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Death was never the end. It was the only thing I knew to be true as I opened my eyes to the bright lanterns above, streaks of light blinding me as I gasped what felt like my first breath in this world.
I was then immediately accosted with words that hit me like a bullet, sounding distorted and uncoupled before a bag was fitted over my head and I was dragged through dirty cobblestone streets. My head swam, and my stomach fell over itself as the white noise around me threatened to split me in two. The screams around me may have come from my own throat or perhaps they were the ghosts of the ones that came before me. All I knew was that I was soon tossed within a cell, the lights doused, and the locks turning with a resounding click.
I was alone without even my own name for comfort.
Knees curled to my chest, I stared steadily ahead. Whether it was shock or the desire for this moment to be nothing more than a hazy dream, I didn’t know. But I had been sitting here, my legs and feet numb with cold, willing the door before me to open or for my body to simply wake up. Time ticked by at a slowed rate, passing until it meant nothing anymore. The world around me was solidifying in very real ways as my senses heightened in the silence, but time was slipping away, becoming meaningless.
[[I was scared]]
[[I was confused]]
[[I was angry]]Truth was, I was terrified. Hugging my knees close to my chest, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember the moments before the bright lights and the cobbled together alley. I could feel it, as if a thought or a memory was swimming just at the edge of my mind, something soft and saturated in color that I was unable to grasp. It was as if they were slipping from me like rivulets of tainted water. The only thing I seemed to remember was an impression more than anything else. A soft feeling of comfort and warmth. Like coming home to a tender embrace. Or maybe being wrapped in a blanket that smelled of home. It did not keep my heart from pounding though. It did not keep the sharp pain that was arcing across my chest from making me feel as if I were being ripped in two.
There was nothing, in the end. Until hands gripped me tight, words I couldn’t quite understand ringing through my ears, I had nothing concrete I could cling to. Nothing but these strangers that looked at me like an inconvenience to their day. Swords were belted at their hips and as my words continue to clog my throat, their hands gripped the hilt of their blades. At the first sign of tears, they had put a cloth bag over my head and hauled me to my feet.
It now lay discarded in the center of the cell. It took me far too long to gather the courage to pull it from my head and face my surroundings.
My cell was dimly lit by a single flickering flame that danced across the cold steel of the door. The only way in or out of my small confines. The room was devoid of furniture, not even big enough to fit a small bed comfortably inside. The walls were made of a rocky mixture of what looked like limestone and clay, while the floor was packed dirt smelling heavily of the sea. A trickling stream of water glistened directly across from me, trickling down the wall before disappearing amid a crack in the floor. The cell was devoid of windows. The door itself had a slatted grate but it was rusted shut. And in the end, the faint scurry of rats somewhere within the walls, was my only company.
[[I hated rats]]
[[Rats didn’t bother me]]
<<set $introemotion to "fear">>Truth was, I was confused. Resting my forearms on my bent knees, I quietly searched my memories for how I had gotten here. The answer was there, just out of my reach. As if a thought or a memory was swimming at the edge of my mind, something soft and saturated in color that I was unable to grasp. Brief images and feelings slipped down the planes of my mind in rivulets of murky water as if my mind was nothing more than an oil painting, ruined with time. What I could gather felt insignificant. A soft feeling of comfort and warmth. Coming home to a tender embrace. Or maybe being wrapped in a blanket that smelled of home. It did nothing to clear my confusion, however. Nor did it really offer me anything more than an unreliable image that could very well mean nothing in the end. The first clear memory I had was of those who pulled me from the cobblestone streets, swords belted at their hips and words tumbling towards me in tones that were too bright and made no sense.
I blinked at them. I hadn’t recognized them or the alley I was in and for a moment, I was almost certain I was dreaming. But as they continued to shout, their hands reaching for their weapons, I realized that the situation I was being presented with was grave. When they threw a cloth bag over my head and hauled me to my feet, a soft sound of uncertainty escaped me. From there, everything was a blur.
The cloth bag was the only thing left in the cell with me now. I had pulled it from my head after they had tossed me in here, the door shutting with a click behind me.
My cell was dimly lit by a single flickering flame that danced across the cold steel of the door. The only way in or out of my small confines. The room was devoid of furniture, not even big enough to fit a small bed comfortably inside. The walls were made of a rocky mixture of what looked like limestone and clay, while the floor was packed dirt smelling heavily of the sea. A trickling stream of water glistened directly across from me, trickling down the wall before disappearing amid a crack in the floor. The cell was devoid of windows. The door itself had a slatted grate but it was rusted shut. And in the end, the faint scurry of rats somewhere within the walls, was my only company.
[[I hated rats]]
[[Rats didn’t bother me]]
<<set $introemotion to "confused">>Truth was, I was pissed. Leaning against the cell wall, my legs spread lazily before me, I stared expectantly at the shut door. I willed the answers as to who I was and how I had gotten here to show themselves, but there was nothing. Just brief flashes of being ripped from comfort. As if I had been wrapped in the arms of what I considered home only to be tossed down to the dirty streets, my knees skidding across uneven rock. I didn’t know how I was. I didn’t know my name. I certainly didn’t know where //this// was. My first clear memory began only hours before as I knelt in a dirty alley panting, three men looming over me and shouting at me in a language I didn’t understand.
With a curled fist I had struck out, connecting with the jaw of someone at least twice my size. Heavy swords hung from their belt and their hands had been twitching far too close to the hilts for my comfort. So I fought.
Unfortunately, they fought better.
A bag was shoved over my head and I was hit from behind. By the time I had the opportunity to rip it back off, I had already been shoved in this cell and the door had clicked shut.
My cell was dimly lit by a single flickering flame that danced across the cold steel of the door. The only way in or out of my small confines. The room was devoid of furniture, not even big enough to fit a small bed comfortably inside. The walls were made of a rocky mixture of what looked like limestone and clay, while the floor was packed dirt smelling heavily of the sea. A trickling stream of water glistened directly across from me, trickling down the wall before disappearing amid a crack in the floor. The cell was devoid of windows. The door itself had a slatted grate but it was rusted shut. And in the end, the faint scurry of rats somewhere within the walls, was my only company.
[[I hated rats]]
[[Rats didn’t bother me]]
<<set $introemotion to "angry">>The thing was, I hated rats.
Like, really hated rats.
They had these beady little eyes and these twitching whiskers that I was almost positive gave them a boost of intelligence that should not be allowed within a creature so small and dirty. When I was younger, one had gotten into my bedroom. I had awoken in the middle of the night to it sitting on my chest, cleaning its face. I screamed and threw it across the room where it skittered into the unknown. For weeks, I thought I saw the thing everywhere I went. My brother assured me that it was more afraid of me than I was of it, and that it had most likely scurried back into the outdoors. I knew better, though. I knew that little thing was sitting in the shadows somewhere, just waiting for me.
On the darkest nights I was convinced it still was.
I frowned. Well, that was a memory. Not an incredibly useful one but one nonetheless. It was startlingly clear in my mind too. As if I could still see it. I shifted a little, my muscles sore from disuse. Part of me was convinced the rat was staring at me from the corner. Waiting.
“Oh thank the gods, you are alive.”
I startled at the voice, whipping my head back and forth for the source of it. I knew I was alone though. Darkened cell or not, I would have seen if I had a cellmate.
“Sorry,” the voice called again. “Over here.”
Slowly, I turned, narrowing my gaze. There, next to the trickling stream of water, was a small hole. One that I had dismissed before. The water had slowly eroded the stone, leaving a black and jagged opening that I had assumed only contained more of my cell wall. But as my eyes begun to adjust, I was surprised to see one lone blue eye staring back at me from the depths.
[[Speak to the man cautiously]]
[[Greet the man kindly]]
[[Speak to the man hurriedly]]At least rats didn’t bother me. Most people found their beady eyes off-putting, but overall they were harmless.
When I was younger, I used to toss cheese to them. Sitting in the shadowed corners of an alley, I would lay out bits of food, seeing how close they could get before their eyes inevitably landed on mine and they scurried away. After a while, they didn’t run when they saw me. I was able to even get a few of them eating out of the palm of my hand.
I frowned. Well, that was a memory. Not a very useful one but it did give me the small benefit of at least feeling safe if there were rats lurking in the corners. Not that the cell was even wide enough to provide sanctuary for the little creatures. If I laid down in here, I was almost certain the span of my arms could touch either side of the walls. I shifted a little, my body aching from sitting in the same position for too long. Laying down seemed like a distant luxury.
“Oh thank the gods, you are alive.”
I startled at the voice, whipping my head back and forth for the source of it. I knew I was alone though. Darkened cell or not, I would have seen if I had a cellmate.
“Sorry,” the voice called again. “Over here.”
Slowly, I turned, narrowing my gaze. There, next to the trickling stream of water, was a small hole. One that I had dismissed before. The water had slowly eroded the stone, leaving a black and jagged opening that I had assumed only contained more of my cell wall. But as my eyes begun to adjust, I was surprised to see one lone blue eye staring back at me from the depths.
[[Speak to the man cautiously]]
[[Greet the man kindly]]
[[Speak to the man hurriedly]]
“Hello,” I started carefully. I could see no other features than the blue eye that was pressed flush to the cell wall. Even through the dim, it was clear to see the wall that separated us was incredibly thick. It would have taken years for the water to erode this much of the stone, along with some helpful hands of previous prisoners.
“Hello. Hi.” I could hear a huff of breath from him. “It’s nice to hear another voice. I haven’t heard one in– well, admittedly I //have// spoken to a lot of people since being here but it’s still nice to hear a fresh voice.” His eye flitted around, as if trying to see further into my cell. Slowly, I stood, keeping my back pressed to the wall. I wasn’t sure if I assumed this man would be bursting through the wall at any moment or what, but a bit of caution was probably warranted.
“Do you know how you got here?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, actually. I’m not really sure what’s going on at all, to be honest.”
“Oh, tough luck that. I hate it when that happens.”
I raised a brow at him. “Experience?”
“I got more experience than I know what to do with,” the man laughed. “I’m known for that, in fact. People have something they need knowing they go ‘hey, where’s that guy with all the experience’, and then I come dancing out with my arms open wide and go ‘it’s me’.”
There was a timber to his voice and as I stared at him, I tried to decide if he had perhaps been in this cell far longer than I had. As it stood, he was my only course for answers at the moment.
[[What's your name?]]
[[How'd you get here?]]
[[Is there a way out of here?]]I could see no other features than the blue eye that was pressed flush to the cell wall. Even through the dim, it was clear to see the wall that separated us was incredibly thick. It would have taken years for the water to erode this much of the stone, along with some helpful hands of previous prisoners. “Hello,” I started, trying to keep my voice kind. “It’s nice to hear another voice,” I confessed.
“Hello. Hi.” I could hear a huff of breath from him. His eye flitted around, as if trying to see further into my cell. It followed me as I stood to my feet. “Wow. You aren’t throwing rocks at me.”
“Do people often throw rocks at you?” I asked, a bit confused.
“No. Well, they used to. Not now. I just had these thoughts while you were sitting there trying to get your bearings. A lot of rock throwing thoughts. Do you know how you got here?” He spoke in quick tones, mind and words jumping from one subject to the next.
I shook my head. “No, actually. I’m not really sure what’s going on at all, to be honest.”
“Oh, tough luck that. I hate it when that happens.”
I raised a brow at him. “Experience?”
“I got more experience than I know what to do with,” the man laughed. “I’m known for that, in fact. People have something they need knowing they go ‘hey, where’s that guy with all the experience’, and then I come dancing out with my arms open wide and go ‘it’s me’.”
There was a timber to his voice and as I stared at him, I tried to decide if he had perhaps been in this cell far longer than I had. As it stood, he was my only course for answers at the moment.
[[What's your name?]]
[[How'd you get here?]]
[[Is there a way out of here?]]“Hi, yes. Hi. I’m here.” I scrambled forward, trying to somehow get closer to the man in the next cell. But even through the dim I could see that the walls were incredibly thick. It would have taken years for the water to corrode this much of the stone, along with some helpful hands of previous prisoners. “You’re real,” I breathed. “Oh, you’re real.” There was so much relief that washed over me that I nearly felt lightheaded. “I don’t know how I got here,” I continued. I was desperate for some sort of understanding. “I don’t even know where here is or what I did or if I’m dreaming.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Slow down. We got time and I haven’t talked to anyone in - well it really hasn’t been that long, but I’m a talker. A poet, actually. It is not in my nature to go this long without conversation. Did you know that a person cannot survive in isolation? It’s true. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. They have done tests, and it shows that if you live in complete isolation you’ll go mad. Probably why they make these cell walls so thick. That and they don’t want anyone escaping.”
I blinked at him, unsure how I was supposed to respond to something like that. His cadence was quick and lilting, and he sounded entirely too comfortable for being locked up in a cell.
“They didn’t tell me anything,” I said. “I couldn’t even understand what they were saying to begin with.”
“Really? That’s a bit odd. Not the not saying anything thing. They are notorious for that. But you should have been able to understand them. Unless you were hit on the head. You know, they say a head injury is the most dangerous thing in the entire world. Just under getting hit by a falling star. Have you ever been hit by a falling star? Have you been a star?” He was quiet for a beat, waiting for my answer. Surprisingly, this was a legitimate question he was actually looking for an answer to.
“No?” I said slowly.
“Good. Good. Just making sure.” His eyes blinked a few times, clearing sediment from it as bits of dirt brushed up against his eye. I continued to stare back at him, not as close, but willing for this to not be a dead end.
[[What's your name?]]
[[How'd you get here?]]
[[Is there a way out of here?]]“What’s your name?” I asked. “Mine’s…”
“Nope!” His voice cut through the room, interrupting me. “No. We don’t exchange names. Not now. Not ever.”
I paused. “Why?” It seemed like a rather strange rule to adhere by.
“It’s a personal thing of mine. Let’s just say I’ve gotten burned by people knowing my name. And I kind of figure, if you don’t know my name, it’s not really fair for me to know yours. Plus, what if you have ancient secrets locked away in your brain, and they take me and torture me for information of your whereabouts? If I don’t know your name, I won’t even know who they are talking about.”
“Well, that’s okay. I was going to tell you that I don’t even know mine.” There was a blank spot in my mind where my own name should have been.
“You don’t know your name?” he asked confused.
“I don’t know much of anything, actually. Everything up to a few hours ago is muddy.”
The man gave a slow hiss of sympathy. “That is a new kind of torture I hadn’t thought of. Though you could pick one. It could be exciting. Like a new hat. One you wear when you are in jail time situations.”
[[Is there a way out of here?]]
[[How'd you get here?]]“You wouldn’t know a way out of here, would you?” I was only partially joking when I asked, looking towards him hopefully.
“Of course I do,” he said. My heart stuttered in surprise as I perked up, looking at the wall that separated us. “Although, I don't think it’ll work for you.”
“What do you mean?” I was willing to do anything, really. I refused to rot inside this cell.
“Well, you see, I have connections. Friendly guards that I pay off with coin and services. Familiar passages where I know they’ll let me through as long as I promise them a few favors in the future. And, well, I got a buddy. He has influence in this section of the market. When he knows I’m in here, he a lot of the times just comes and gets me. Most evenings in here end with me just waiting for him.”
“How many times have you been in here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Not a lot, really. No more than forty-seven times.”
I choked on the blasé answer. “Forty seven times and you don’t have a key? An alternate route out of here?” At this point I had to wonder just what kind of criminal I was even talking to.
“I don’t. Sorry.”
I felt that brief bit of hope leave me at that. If a man that was practically a native here in these cells couldn’t tell me how to get out, I didn’t know how I was supposed to be able to do it myself.
“Hey, look, I… I maybe shouldn’t have said that. I can’t see much of you, but I’m getting the sense that you are pretty down.”
[[Tears threatened to overwhelm me|I’m sad]]
[[Rage consumed me, a scream threatening to erupt from my throat|I’m angry]]
[[My heart skipped a beat as terror raced down my spine|I’m scared]]
Despite being in a cell, the man seemed unconcerned with his position. In fact, he seemed down right giddy while speaking. Either he had long ago lost hope in ever escaping, or he had been here so long that he had forgotten the outside world. I tried not to draw any similarities between the two of us.
“How did you get here?” I asked. What I was really searching for, was what kind of criminal this man was.
“Now that is a tale,” he said, dragging out his words. “One full of heartache, I assure you. Only if you have the time will I bestow on you my woes, dear friend. For I would not want you to weep in such a foul and dusty place.”
[[On second thought...]]
[[I stifled my laughter as I looked at this man|Go on][$calibanstale = "amused"]]
[[I tried to keep myself from looking too interested|Go on][$calibanstale = "intrigued"]]
“I don’t think I really need to hear this story.” What I needed, was information. And a way out of here. I didn’t need to listen to the potential ramblings of a man that they may have forgotten was even locked in these cells.
“I get it,” though his voice was tinged with disappointment. I tried not to let it bother me. “You look scared. I was just trying to help."
"Answers would help," I told him.
He hummed in response. "You don’t know how you got here? Not at all?”
“No." That was the most frustrating part. But every time I tried to recall the moments that led me here, I saw nothing but a white scar across my vision. “It’s all blank.” The problem was, I knew there were images. Little bits of my past lingering just on the other side of the blank spot that was my memories. I just couldn’t figure out how to reach them.
The way the man went quiet made me think he might have known more. It was clear that whoever he was, he was at the very least someone who collected tales. “I’m sorry,” he settled on. “That must be scary.”
“How many times have you been in here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Not a lot, really. No more than forty-seven times.”
I choked on the blasé answer. “Forty seven times and you don’t have a key? An alternate route out of here?” At this point I had to wonder just what kind of criminal I was even talking to.
“I don’t. Sorry.”
I felt that brief bit of hope leave me at that. If a man that was practically a native here in these cells couldn’t tell me how to get out, I didn’t know how I was supposed to be able to do it myself.
“Hey, look, I… I maybe shouldn’t have said that. I can’t see much of you, but I’m getting the sense that you are pretty down.”
[[Tears threatened to overwhelm me|I’m sad]]
[[Rage consumed me, a scream threatening to erupt from my throat|I’m angry]]
[[My heart skipped a beat as terror raced down my spine|I’m scared]]
<<if $calibanstale == "amused">>I cocked my head to the side, unable to help the small smile that twisted my lips. The man was nuts. That much was clear. But for some reason, I found his humor one that was beginning to settle the nerves that were fluttering in my gut.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll bite. Tell me a story.” I could see his one eye widen in delight. \
<<elseif $calibanstale == "intrigued">>There wasn’t a single thing about this man that didn’t scream some sort of delusional insanity. He was, after all, talking to me from the other side of a cell wall. But not only was he my only source of information for the time being, he was also sparking curiosity. Maybe it was simply because I could only see his eye, or maybe it was because I wasn’t sure when the next bout of human contact would be, but I found myself incredibly intrigued by this nameless man.
“I’m listening,” I said. I could see his eye widen in brief surprise, but he spent little time on the emotion as he jumped headfirst into his tale.<</if>>
He cleared his throat loudly, settling against the wall more comfortably. I could no longer see his eye, but saw the curve of a shoulder. Small raven colored feathers made up the collar of whatever he wore
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and I, dear friend, had fallen in love. She was a beauty, let me tell you. Legs for miles and hair that went down to her curvaceous hips. I should have known then that she was going to be trouble. The kind that wraps you up in her bosom and never lets you go.”
Settling against the wall, I leaned next to the hole. My only point of connection with another soul at this point. The sound of trickling water and the lilt of this man's voice was comforting somehow.
“It was a dark night here in the Night Market. One of those pitchless ones where the stars are dull, and the lanterns have all been wrecked. Only the candles from the book district and the pink hues of the silken lanterns from the pleasure square, lit the way. I was walking home, my pockets lined with the wins of lesser men, when I saw her. She stood near a broken wall, her black hair falling over her shoulder in waves. Coyly, she looked at me from beneath a set of curved lashes. I was besotted. Those green eyes pierced through me and I felt my very heart stutter.”
[[She sounds lovely]]
[[You sound easy]]
[[On second thought...]]I could almost see the woman he was describing. Green eyes that darkened with the oncoming storm and hands that dug deep within the earth, calling on roots and vines for sanctuary. I wondered if she truly did exist or if this was just another pretty tale he told his cellmates in order to pass the time. Either way, I found myself sighing a little, tilting my head back against the wall.
“She’s sounds lovely,” I said.
“As a crisp autumn day. Nails as red as wine and eyes as green as moss. I don’t know if I’ll ever meet another quite like her.”
“What happened then?” I asked.
“Next thing I know, we were running through the market proper,” he continued. “Her hand in mine. I couldn’t help myself. I knew nothing about her, but as she tugged me close she whispered the most salacious words I had ever heard.”
His voice turned husky, dropping into something throaty and vaguely feminine. “Let’s get dumplings.”
I covered my mouth to keep the laughter from bursting forth. I was thankful that the surrounding cell was dark enough to hide my reaction on the off chance that this man did take himself seriously.
“Of course, I thought dumplings was code word for something entirely different. Especially with the way her dress slit halfway up her thigh. So I followed her. We spent the evening dining on the local fare, laughing and tipping our heads together. I have never seen a woman pack away so much food in one go. She was a vision. Stuffing little globs of stuffed noodles into her mouth and asking for more each time her plate fell empty. A woman like that is powerful. There is no denying it. You know if they can manage to fill their stomach to the brim and keep going, there is nothing in the world that will stop them.”
My own stomach rumbled in protest as I became aware that I didn’t even know when I had last ate. The man either didn’t hear my hunger, or thankfully ignored it.
“So, there we were, this little piece of fried dough and I. Dumpling, I would call her. We were walking through the markets, holding hands, the world set before us, paved in gold. I leaned in, sure that my dumpling would forever be at my side. But just as my lips were about to press against her own, it happened.”
“What did?” I asked.
“The wind and the sky cracked open with a shout, and there, from up above, a giant snake descended.”
[[Liar]]
[[Oh no!]]
[[On second thought...]]I snorted in laughter as I pictured this stranger, wandering down the streets and quite literally stumbling into such an infatuation. “You sound incredibly easy,” I told him.
I could almost feel his grin through the wall. “You have no idea.” It felt like a point of pride. Or maybe a cloak he wore. Either way, I caught a flash of him meandering through a busy street with an easy and knowing smile.
“Next thing I know, we were running through the market proper,” he continued. “Her hand in mine. I couldn’t help myself. I knew nothing about her, but as she tugged me close she whispered the most salacious words I had ever heard.”
His voice turned husky, dropping into something throaty and vaguely feminine. “Let’s get dumplings.”
I covered my mouth to keep the laughter from bursting forth. I was thankful that the surrounding cell was dark enough to hide my reaction on the off chance that this man did take himself seriously.
“Of course, I thought dumplings was code word for something entirely different. Especially with the way her dress slit halfway up her thigh. So I followed her. We spent the evening dining on the local fare, laughing and tipping our heads together. I have never seen a woman pack away so much food in one go. She was a vision. Stuffing little globs of stuffed noodles into her mouth and asking for more each time her plate fell empty. A woman like that is powerful. There is no denying it. You know if they can manage to fill their stomach to the brim and keep going, there is nothing in the world that will stop them.”
My own stomach rumbled in protest as I became aware that I didn’t even know when I had last ate. The man either didn’t hear my hunger, or thankfully ignored it.
“So, there we were, this little piece of fried dough and I. Dumpling, I would call her. We were walking through the markets, holding hands, the world set before us, paved in gold. I leaned in, sure that my dumpling would forever be at my side. But just as my lips were about to press against her own, it happened.”
“What did?” I asked.
“The wind and the sky cracked open with a shout, and there, from up above, a giant snake descended.”
[[Liar]]
[[Oh no!]]
[[On second thought...]]“You expect me to believe you were walking through a random market, with the most beautiful woman on your arm, about ready to kiss her, and a snake appeared from the heavens and stopped you?”
A pause. Then. “Yes.”
“There’s no way,” I blurted out. The man sounded charming but he was still telling me a tale through a corroded hole in the wall.
“Were you there?”
I narrowed my eyes, twisting my head to look suspiciously at the outline of his shoulder through the hole. He had to be having me on at this point. “Continue. But I’m warning you, if this gets much more outrageous, I am definitely calling bullshit.”
He wasted no time before launching back into his tale, a flash of his hand blurring shadows across the opening as he began to animatedly keep up his story.
“As the sky split in two all I could see was my fate in the snapping jaw of this reptilian creature. An opalescent snake that fell from the heavens, maw agape with rage. Because, you see, this girl of mine, was no ordinary girl. She was his bride to be. They had run away to the Night Market together with the intent to be wed. Back home, they were royals in their courts but due to a terrible war, neither of them could take the other's hand in matrimony. So, on the eve of the final and bloodiest battle, they ran here. But, the snake, upon reaching the Night Market, turned gluttonous with greed. She was no longer enough for him, and he ran off, leaving her desolate and alone. When I met her, she was looking for someone to fill that void.”
Suddenly, his eye snapped back into place, blinking at my through the hole. Somehow, through the course of his insanity, I felt myself begin to ease.
“Oh, but if I had known what that void would have cost me,” he continued. “I never would have taken her hand. For, you see, the snake hadn’t actually abandoned her. He had fled for her safety, having been followed by dastardly men. So, upon his return, when he saw her in the arms of another, more attractive, and definitely more stable, man, he became consumed with rage.”
[[I am at the edge of my seat]]
[[Do people actually believe your stories?]]
[[On second thought...]]“A snake?” I gasped, appropriately.
“And a dreadful one at that,” he said.
“What did it look like? Why was it here?” I flexed my feet, arching them against the stone floor while grinning a bit at the tale that was being woven.
“Patience, my friend. Patience,” he soothed. Then he launched back into his story in such a hurry that his words tumbled over each other in one long, drawn out crashing wave.
“As the sky split in two all I could see was my fate in the snapping jaw of this reptilian creature. An opalescent snake that fell from the heavens, maw agape with rage. Because, you see, this girl of mine, was no ordinary girl. She was his bride to be. They had run away to the Night Market together with the intent to be wed. Back home, they were royals in their courts but due to a terrible war, neither of them could take the other's hand in matrimony. So, on the eve of the final and bloodiest battle, they ran here. But, the snake, upon reaching the Night Market, turned gluttonous with greed. She was no longer enough for him, and he ran off, leaving her desolate and alone. When I met her, she was looking for someone to fill that void.”
Suddenly, his eye snapped back into place, blinking at my through the hole. Somehow, through the course of his insanity, I felt myself begin to ease.
“Oh, but if I had known what that void would have cost me,” he continued. “I never would have taken her hand. For, you see, the snake hadn’t actually abandoned her. He had fled for her safety, having been followed by dastardly men. So, upon his return, when he saw her in the arms of another, more attractive, and definitely more stable, man, he became consumed with rage.”
[[I am at the edge of my seat]]
[[Do people actually believe your stories?]]
[[On second thought...]]I found myself leaning forward, my hands now braced in the dirt floor beneath me. “Were you scared?”
“Scared? Me?” He barked out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a bird's caw. “Of course I was. Who wouldn’t be scared when being persuaded by a giant snake that was a prince among the fae courts?”
I nodded in consent. He had a point.
“So there I was, standing there, with a beautiful beast of a man in my arms, looking down the throat of this terrible snake…”
“Man?” I asked.
“Yes. Man. Keep up, my friend. Keep up.”
I laughed a little, smiling at the hole in the wall. “Sorry. Please, continue.”
“As I said, I had this beast of a man safe in my arms, his red hair spilling across my shoulders as he looked up at his would be betrothed and screamed. He cursed him, telling him to leave him be. That he no longer loved him and that their life together had been a sham. But then, the most peculiar thing happened. The snake, who had previously thrashed three city blocks and ate at least six dozen people, paused.” His voice dropped to that of a whisper, and I found myself straining forward just to hear him. “Ever so gently, he coiled around my love, his tail caressing him lovingly, before morphing into a man.”
I jumped as he raised his voice to full volume again, displacing a few loose pebbled near his eye. “Now this man was a tiny man with strange colored hair and a terrible fashion sense, but my beauty of the night fell into his arms all the same. I protested, telling him that the snake/man/boy would only leave him again. For I, at the time, didn’t know the truth of the story. They both turned cold eyes to me then. And that’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I had made a mistake. The Velvet Guard came running from the shadows and tackled me to the ground. They took my worldly possessions while my lover and his snake husband stood by, laughing at the downtrodden mess I had become. And that,” he said with a huff of a breath, “is how I made it here, deep within the Night Market prison. Because I trusted a woman who later turned into a man, who was in love all along, with a snake.”
[[Applaud him]]
[[Let out a whistle of disbelief]]
“I’m calling it,” I said. “There’s no way this is true. No one in their right mind would believe this.”
“Aw, but isn’t that story telling?” His blue eye creased at the corners in what I imagined to be a rakish smile. “Equal parts bullshit and insanity with a sprinkling of truth.”
I shook my head. At this point, I was so vested, I didn’t want him to stop. Truth or not, he was making me forget. “You might as well finish your story,” I said with a laugh. “We’ve come this far.”
“So there I was,” he said, launching immediately back into it. “Standing there, with a beautiful beast of a man in my arms, looking down the throat of a terrible snake.”
“You’re just testing me now, aren’t you?” The pronoun switch was subtle and yet, entirely deliberate on his part. He answered far too quickly for it not to be.
“A man can be in love with a man and a woman. A woman can be in love with a woman or a man. Or they can form any possible, numerous combinations of the sort as long as all parties are consenting. The end of my story will highlight just that.”
I cracked a smile at him, waving my hand to indicate that I conceded. I was at his mercy for whatever this tale may be. “Sorry. Please, continue.”
“So there I was, standing there, with a beautiful beast of a man in my arms, looking down the throat of this terrible snake…”
“Man?” I asked.
“Yes. Man. Keep up, my friend. Keep up.”
I laughed a little, smiling at the hole in the wall. “Sorry. Please, continue.”
“As I said, I had this beast of a man safe in my arms, his red hair spilling across my shoulders as he looked up at his would be betrothed and screamed. He cursed him, telling him to leave him be. That he no longer loved him and that their life together had been a sham. But then, the most peculiar thing happened. The snake, who had previously thrashed three city blocks and ate at least six dozen people, paused.” His voice dropped to that of a whisper, and I found myself straining forward just to hear him. “Ever so gently, he coiled around my love, his tail caressing him lovingly, before morphing into a man.”
I jumped as he raised his voice to full volume again, displacing a few loose pebbled near his eye. “Now this man was a tiny man with strange colored hair and a terrible fashion sense, but my beauty of the night fell into his arms all the same. I protested, telling him that the snake/man/boy would only leave him again. For I, at the time, didn’t know the truth of the story. They both turned cold eyes to me then. And that’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I had made a mistake. The Velvet Guard came running from the shadows and tackled me to the ground. They took my worldly possessions while my lover and his snake husband stood by, laughing at the downtrodden mess I had become. And that,” he said with a huff of a breath, “is how I made it here, deep within the Night Market prison. Because I trusted a woman who later turned into a man, who was in love all along, with a snake.”
[[Applaud him]]
[[Let out a whistle of disbelief]]I clapped my hands together loudly, the sound of it echoing all around me in a cell that didn’t seem quite so lonely anymore. The entire thing was of course devoid of even an ounce of truth. However, I had somewhere along the way, come to the realization, that the more outlandish this man became, the more I could feel my own emotions calming.
“That is the best story I have ever heard,” I told him.
“I know.”
“And,” I softened, looking at the one blue eye that peered back at me. “Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything to that but I could see his own gaze grow sympathetic and kind.
I knew what the man had been doing, and I couldn’t fault him. His outlandish tale had banished every course emotion that threatened to consume me while the silence lingered at my back. The man may have been a liar, but he was a savvy individual through and through.
Shifting, he pressed his face close to the wall again, peering at me. “Your turn. How’d you end up here?”
“I don’t know, actually.” I let out a huff of air. My thoughts were at least a little calmer now. My head not whirling as much. “I don’t even know what this Night Market is. Every time I try to think about what led me here, I draw a blank.”
“Ah, did you hit your head?”
“Maybe.” I couldn’t remember that either. But there was a dull ache between my eyes. Maybe I had hit something. It would explain away a lot of the confusion at least. My vision had been blurry when I had first opened my eyes to the cobblestoned alley. The lights overhead had been blinding. It fell in line with a head trauma.
“Blow to the head will get you every time,” the man was saying “I’m sure it’ll come back in time though.”
“You wouldn’t know a way out of here, would you?” I was only partially joking when I asked, looking towards him hopefully.
“Of course I do,” he said. My heart stuttered in surprise as I perked up, looking at the wall that separated us. “Although, I don't think it’ll work for you.”
“What do you mean?” I was willing to do anything, really. I refused to rot inside this cell.
“Well, you see, I have connections. Friendly guards that I pay off with coin and services. Familiar passages where I know they’ll let me through as long as I promise them a few favors in the future. And, well, I got a buddy. He has influence in this section of the market. When he knows I’m in here, he a lot of the times just comes and gets me. Most evenings in here end with me just waiting for him.”
“How many times have you been in here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Not a lot, really. No more than forty-seven times.”
I choked on the blasé answer. “Forty seven times and you don’t have a key? An alternate route out of here?” At this point I had to wonder just what kind of criminal I was even talking to.
“I don’t. Sorry.”
I felt that brief bit of hope leave me at that. If a man that was practically a native here in these cells couldn’t tell me how to get out, I didn’t know how I was supposed to be able to do it myself.
“Hey, look, I… I maybe shouldn’t have said that. I can’t see much of you, but I’m getting the sense that you are pretty down.”
[[Tears threatened to overwhelm me|I’m sad]]
[[Rage consumed me, a scream threatening to erupt from my throat|I’m angry]]
[[My heart skipped a beat as terror raced down my spine|I’m scared]]
<<$calibanstory to "true">>I let out a long and low whistle. “That is quite the story,” I said.
“I know.”
“I’m sorry about all that.”
“It’s okay. I’ve come to peace with it. My heart still aches, but I am a survivor. I will learn to love again one day.”
I knew what the man had been doing, and I couldn’t fault him. His outlandish tale had banished every course emotion that threatened to consume me while the silence lingered at my back. The man may have been a liar, but he was a savvy individual through and through.
Shifting, he pressed his face close to the wall again, peering at me. “Your turn. How’d you end up here?”
“I don’t know, actually.” I let out a huff of air. My thoughts were at least a little calmer now. My head not whirling as much. “I don’t even know what this Night Market is. Every time I try to think about what led me here, I draw a blank.”
“Ah, did you hit your head?”
“Maybe.” I couldn’t remember that either. But there was a dull ache between my eyes. Maybe I had hit something. It would explain away a lot of the confusion at least. My vision had been blurry when I had first opened my eyes to the cobblestoned alley. The lights overhead had been blinding. It fell in line with a head trauma.
“Blow to the head will get you every time,” the man was saying “I’m sure it’ll come back in time though.”
“You wouldn’t know a way out of here, would you?” I was only partially joking when I asked, looking towards him hopefully.
“Of course I do,” he said. My heart stuttered in surprise as I perked up, looking at the wall that separated us. “Although, I don't think it’ll work for you.”
“What do you mean?” I was willing to do anything, really. I refused to rot inside this cell.
“Well, you see, I have connections. Friendly guards that I pay off with coin and services. Familiar passages where I know they’ll let me through as long as I promise them a few favors in the future. And, well, I got a buddy. He has influence in this section of the market. When he knows I’m in here, he a lot of the times just comes and gets me. Most evenings in here end with me just waiting for him.”
“How many times have you been in here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Not a lot, really. No more than forty-seven times.”
I choked on the blasé answer. “Forty seven times and you don’t have a key? An alternate route out of here?” At this point I had to wonder just what kind of criminal I was even talking to.
“I don’t. Sorry.”
I felt that brief bit of hope leave me at that. If a man that was practically a native here in these cells couldn’t tell me how to get out, I didn’t know how I was supposed to be able to do it myself.
“Hey, look, I… I maybe shouldn’t have said that. I can’t see much of you, but I’m getting the sense that you are pretty down.”
[[Tears threatened to overwhelm me|I’m sad]]
[[Rage consumed me, a scream threatening to erupt from my throat|I’m angry]]
[[My heart skipped a beat as terror raced down my spine|I’m scared]]
<<set $calibanstory to "true">>I felt tears thicken my throat. The uncertainty that was falling down around me left me feeling helpless. The cell was cold and the world around me unfamiliar, and all I had in the way of information, lay with a man who was nothing more than an eye through a stone wall.
“I just wish I remembered what happened?” I whispered. “Maybe if I knew, then I could make sense of this but…” I trailed off. Not even sure of my own words at this point in time.
“But by not remembering, this all seems like some sort of nightmare,” he finished for me. There was such truth to his statement that I only found myself nodding in response. “I’ve been there. More times than you know. I wish I could help.”
“Look, why don’t you tell me about yourself,” he suggested. “If we both get out of here, and we meet up in the market, I’d like to know you. That way, I can give you a nod of solidarity or something. Tell me what you look like.”
I cocked my head at him. We had been having a conversation for the better side of twenty minutes. I had figured he had been able to make out more features on me than I could of him at this point. “Can’t you just see that?”
“I’ve got the eyesight of a bird,” he said.
“I thought birds had good eyesight.”
“I got the eyesight of a really dumb bird,” he continued. “Come on. What color is that gaze of yours?”
“I can’t even remember my name. How would I remember the color of my eyes?”
“Try,” he urged. “I know it’s dark but look if you have to. There’s got to be broken glass around. Cells have that right?”
I don’t know why I looked around. I already knew that there were no reflective surfaces within my cell. But, my gaze ticked to the four corners of the room anyway, as I scrambled for the simple knowledge of what my eye color even was.
[[My eyes are amber|Eyes][$eyecolor to "amber"]]
[[My eyes are blue|Eyes][$eyecolor to "blue"]]
[[My eyes are brown|Eyes][$eyecolor to "brown"]]
[[My eyes are green|Eyes][$eyecolor to "green"]]
[[My eyes are gray|Eyes][$eyecolor to "gray"]]
[[My eyes are hazel|Eyes][$eyecolor to "hazel"]]
[[My eyes are lavender|Eyes][$eyecolor to "lavender"]]
A fire bubbled deep within my belly. It threatened to erupt in a scream the longer I sat within the confines of these four walls.
“Down? No. I’m not down. I’m pissed.” I felt myself shaking with anger. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. No one has said a damn thing to me. They tossed me in this cell, and then they walked away.”
I turned towards the door. The one that had remained closed all this time. “Cowards! Can’t even come in here and face me, huh? What kind of guards are you? I didn’t do anything.” I took a handful of the pebbles that had fallen from the wall and threw them at the door. They scattered with a soft plink on the ground, wholly unsatisfying with their lack of noise.
“I’m sorry,” the voice from the other cell said once I settled. “I really wish there was something I could do. Though, I almost feel bad for the next guard that comes in here. That’s not to say I won’t watch you verbally berate them with great joy.”
“Look, why don’t you tell me about yourself,” he suggested. “If we both get out of here, and we meet up in the market, I’d like to know you. That way, I can give you a nod of solidarity or something. Tell me what you look like.”
I cocked my head at him. We had been having a conversation for the better side of twenty minutes. I had figured he had been able to make out more features on me than I could of him at this point. “Can’t you just see that?”
“I’ve got the eyesight of a bird,” he said.
“I thought birds had good eyesight.”
“I got the eyesight of a really dumb bird,” he continued. “Come on. What color is that gaze of yours?”
“I can’t even remember my name. How would I remember the color of my eyes?”
“Try,” he urged. “I know it’s dark but look if you have to. There’s got to be broken glass around. Cells have that right?”
I don’t know why I looked around. I already knew that there were no reflective surfaces within my cell. But, my gaze ticked to the four corners of the room anyway, as I scrambled for the simple knowledge of what my eye color even was.
[[My eyes are amber|Eyes][$eyecolor to "amber"]]
[[My eyes are blue|Eyes][$eyecolor to "blue"]]
[[My eyes are brown|Eyes][$eyecolor to "brown"]]
[[My eyes are green|Eyes][$eyecolor to "green"]]
[[My eyes are gray|Eyes][$eyecolor to "gray"]]
[[My eyes are hazel|Eyes][$eyecolor to "hazel"]]
[[My eyes are lavender|Eyes][$eyecolor to "lavender"]]
I tucked my face towards my curled knees, taking deep breaths. I could feel the panic swelling, closing around my heart in a vice-like grip. I just wanted to go home, wherever that may be. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Hey,” the voice soothed from the other side of the wall. “It’s okay. It really is. This place isn’t that bad. Not really. I mean, it is,” he amended quickly. “It’s really really bad if you get on the Velvet Guard's bad side, but if you are agreeable things can turn out okay.”
“You’re not helping,” I whispered.
“Sorry. Sorry, I…. right.”
“Look, why don’t you tell me about yourself,” he suggested. “If we both get out of here, and we meet up in the market, I’d like to know you. That way, I can give you a nod of solidarity or something. Tell me what you look like.”
I cocked my head at him. We had been having a conversation for the better side of twenty minutes. I had figured he had been able to make out more features on me than I could of him at this point. “Can’t you just see that?”
“I’ve got the eyesight of a bird,” he said.
“I thought birds had good eyesight.”
“I got the eyesight of a really dumb bird,” he continued. “Come on. What color is that gaze of yours?”
“I can’t even remember my name. How would I remember the color of my eyes?”
“Try,” he urged. “I know it’s dark but look if you have to. There’s got to be broken glass around. Cells have that right?”
I don’t know why I looked around. I already knew that there were no reflective surfaces within my cell. But, my gaze ticked to the four corners of the room anyway, as I scrambled for the simple knowledge of what my eye color even was.
[[My eyes are amber|Eyes][$eyecolor to "amber"]]
[[My eyes are blue|Eyes][$eyecolor to "blue"]]
[[My eyes are brown|Eyes][$eyecolor to "brown"]]
[[My eyes are green|Eyes][$eyecolor to "green"]]
[[My eyes are gray|Eyes][$eyecolor to "gray"]]
[[My eyes are hazel|Eyes][$eyecolor to "hazel"]]
[[My eyes are lavender|Eyes][$eyecolor to "lavender"]]
“I have $eyecolor eyes,” I told him. I knew it to be true the second the words slipped from my mouth. It felt odd to be describing myself and yet, it somehow made me feel more real. As if the very act of it was solidifying me and keeping me grounded to this world.
“Very nice. I like that.” Outside, I could hear a commotion. Someone was walking down the hall, arguing at a loud volume, though I could not make out the words. I could hear the sound of booted feet and quite a few cell doors squeaking loudly open as they searched for someone. They sounded distant and I couldn’t tell if they were coming my way yet.
“Okay, what about hair? Skin tone? I’m going to need those little identifiers if I want to buy you some food when I see you next.” His tone had a sense of urgency to it and I could see his own eye tick towards the door. I got the sense time was about to run out. “Maybe take you out on the town. Show you around?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I said, “but I’m hoping that I won’t be here that long.” Not in the jail, not in whatever city I had landed in. If I could manage to get out of here, I was taking the quickest route I could, back to my home.
“For your sake $eyecolor eyes, I hope so too. But come on. Tell me more.”
[[My hair color is brown|Hair][$haircolor to "brown"]]
[[My hair color is black|Hair][$haircolor to "black"]]
[[My hair color is red|Hair][$haircolor to "red"]]
[[My hair color is ginger|Hair][$haircolor to "ginger"]]
[[My hair color is blonde|Hair][$haircolor to "blonde"]]
[[My hair color is gray|Hair][$haircolor to "gray"]]
[[My hair color is blue|Hair][$haircolor to "blue"]]
[[My hair color is green|Hair][$haircolor to "green"]]
[[My hair color is pink|Hair][$haircolor to "pink"]]
[[My hair color is white|Hair][$haircolor to "white"]]
<<set $details to "true">>[[My complexion is fair|Skin][$skincolor to "fair"]]
[[My complexion is tan|Skin][$skincolor to "tan"]]
[[My complexion is brown|Skin][$skincolor to "brown"]]
[[My complexion is dark brown|Skin][$skincolor to "dark brown"]]
[[My complexion is olive|Skin][$skincolor to "olive"]]
[[My complexion is dark|Skin][$skincolor to "ebony"]]
“I have $haircolor hair and my complexion is $skincolor,” I told him. Again, it felt real. Like I was forming with each word I spoke. Looking down at my hands I could see the $skincolor skin stretched across my fingers. I felt my heart beat a bit slower. My eyes ticked towards the door again. The booted feet sounded louder. It wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.
“Lovely $haircolor hair and $skincolor skin. Got it.” His voice took on an urgency that I hadn’t quite heard from him yet, as he filed away as much as he could about me. “When I see you within the market, I’ll make sure to come and say hi.”
It was then that I heard the shouting get closer, a commanding voice with a southern drawl growling at whoever they stood beside as the shrill sound of my companion's cell door swung open.
“Reese,” he called happily. There was something familiar in his tone. “Was wondering when you’d show.”
“Don’t fucking say my name where people can hear, bird,” a man growled. Someone else walked away, the jangling of keys clattering behind him. “You lose at cards again?”
The man, bird, gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, uh. Yeah. Kind of. Wasn’t my fault. I swear. The other guy was a cheat, for sure.”
“Just shut up. Let’s get out of here. I hate the cellblock.”
There was a brief shuffle before the eye peaked back in again. “Well, I guess this is it $eyecolor eyes. I’ll be seeing ya!”
“Hey, wait!” I called, as he was about to slip out of view. “Please, you have to take me with you.”
I saw hesitancy cross him for the first time and I wondered how one eye in the darkness of a five by five room, could be so expressive.
“No, bird,” I heard the other man say. The one that was bailing him.
There was a sadness there. I could all but see his features hunch in on himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But I promise, if I see you within the market, I’ll help you. However I can.”
“Let’s go,” the other man barked, growing impatient.
The lone eye looked at me one last time before disappearing from view. I could hear the sound of his cell slam shut and the clatter of feet echo through the corridor before disappearing all together.
And just like that, silence was my only companion once more.
[[Sit down and wait]]
[[Bang on the cell door]]
I slid down to sit with my back to the wall. My eyes stared blankly ahead as the silence began to creep in once more. That man, whoever he was, had been my source of sanity. Something to focus on while the rest of my mind tumbled with questions and confusion. But just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone.
I felt the darkness begin to press in on me. It felt so much thicker than it had before. The candle that dripped from a sconce by the cell door was burnt down to the wick, soft white wax pooling below.
I don’t know when I fell asleep.
Or for how long.
The passage of time had been taken from me. Moments or days passed in a designated effort to break my mind and mold it into something more palatable. For them. Not me. My lids felt heavy with grit, my eyes tight with impatience. The possibility that this was all a nightmare was starting to fade with each ticking second and the notion that I may never get out of here had begun to settle on my shoulders with a pressing weight.
That’s when the creaking slide of the steel door greeted me, and my cell opened.
“Warden wants to see you.” A woman stood before me, her gaze sharp as she looked me up and down. I could see the tension coiled upon her shoulders and wondered what it was about me that even warranted the look. <<if $introemotion == "angry">> I had fought when I first game in but I doubted a hit to a coworkers jaw was enough to spark such trepidation.<</if>>
[[Who is the Warden?]]
[[I don't even know why I'm here]]
[[I don't want to see them]]I wasn’t about to let them disappear without a fight. I didn’t just spend the better part of who knew how long, listening to that man, for him to just walk away from me. Storming over to the door, my hands curled in fists, I began banging against the steel, shouts of anger rushing from my throat.
“Hey! You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to walk away from me!”
But that was the thing. He did. Because, as he had said, he had friends. He had been here forty odd times and knew how the system worked.
He was self-sufficient in this world while I was sitting here relying on someone, anyone else, to come and bail me out.
I don’t know how long I yelled. Only that my hands were red and angry and my voice was suddenly raw.
With a heaving sigh, I let my forehead fall against the door. I felt the darkness begin to press in on me. It felt so much thicker than it had before. The candle that dripped from a sconce by the cell door was burnt down to the wick, a white film gathering in a puddle upon the floor.
I don’t know when I fell asleep.
Or for how long.
The passage of time had been taken from me. Moments or days passed in a designated effort to break my mind and mold it into something more palatable. For them. Not me. My lids felt heavy with grit, my eyes tight with impatience. The possibility that this was all a nightmare was starting to fade with each ticking second and the notion that I may never get out of here had begun to settle on my shoulders with a pressing weight.
That’s when the creaking slide of the steel door greeted me, and my cell opened.
“Warden wants to see you.” A woman stood before me, her gaze sharp as she looked me up and down. I could see the tension coiled upon her shoulders and wondered what it was about me that even warranted the look. <<if $introemotion == "angry">> I had fought when I first game in but I doubted a hit to a coworkers jaw was enough to spark such trepidation.<</if>>
[[Who is the Warden?]]
[[I don't even know why I'm here]]
[[I don't want to see them]]Slowly, I got to my feet, wary of the person before me and the sword sheathed at their hip. Their eyes tracked my movements, searching me over as if I was an anomaly. One they certainly did not expect when they first opened the door.
“The Warden?” I asked. “So this is a prison.”
“Of course it is,” the woman snapped. “Now, you can either walk there unassisted or I can take you there by force. But either way, you are leaving the cell.”
I stared at her. She wore a crimson uniform with an insignia upon her right shoulder. The only weapon I could see on her was her sword but she looked to have the kind of hands that were used to combat. By the look in her eye, I didn’t think she would hesitate to attack. For all the world she looked to be someone who didn’t even want to be standing here and was looking for an excuse to immobilize me in hopes of making her own job easier.
[[Agree to go with her]]
[[Try to run past her]]
[[I doubt your Warden is going to want me roughed up]]Rising to my feet, remained wary of the person before me and the sword sheathed at their hip. Their eyes tracked my movements, searching me over as if I was an anomaly. One they certainly did not expect when they first opened the door.
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” I told her.
“Sure you don’t.” There was a sneer to her lips that felt unwarranted given the information I had.
“I’m telling the truth. I– something happened. I don’t even know who I am.”
It was as if I hadn’t even spoken for the amount of reaction she had towards me. Instead, she shifted, her sword clanging against her hip. “You can either walk out of this cell unassisted or I can take you there by force. The Warden didn’t specify how he wanted to see you, just wanted you in his office.”
[[Agree to go with her]]
[[Try to run past her]]
[[I doubt your Warden is going to want me roughed up]]“That’s great,” I said. “I don’t think I really want to see him.” My eyes ticked past her shoulder and I wondered if there was a way I could make a break for it. Perhaps run through the labyrinth I knew they had brought me through and find my way towards freedom. Whatever that was. The woman in front of me pulled her sword from her sheath just enough so I could see the edge of the blade.
“I don’t really want trouble. I’m supposed to escort you to him for processing. You can either come with me, conscious or not. Doesn’t matter.”
Standing, I looked at her. She wore a crimson uniform with an insignia upon her right shoulder. The only weapon I could see on her was her sword but she looked to have the kind of hands that was used to combat. By the look in her eye, I didn’t think she would hesitate to knock me out. It was clear she had drawn the short stick when it came to who would come and get me. It left the question of just what I did, heavier in my mind.
[[Agree to go with her]]
[[Try to run past her]]
[[I doubt your Warden is going to want me roughed up]]Slowly, I stood, making sure to keep my hands where she could see them. I had no doubt that she was looking for an opportunity to attack. Given that I didn’t know where I was, erring on the side of caution felt like the only safe path to take.
“I’ll go with you,” I said. “I don’t want any problems.”
The woman nodded, looking as if she wanted to say more, but instead, she stepped aside. I tried to keep myself steady as I slipped by her, into the dim light of a long tunnel lined with steel doors.
“That way,” the guard said, motioning me to my left. Swallowing, I nodded, willing to do whatever these people said at this point if it would provide me with answers.
Wind whipped through the passage before me, brushing against my cheeks in a cool balm. Up until now, I hadn’t realized just how humid my surroundings were. The tunnel was straight and long and felt as if it was gradually leading downwards but there was no way of knowing. The orange flames lining the hall did little to light my way and I found myself stumbling forward whether I wanted to go that way or not.
[[Where am I?]]
[[Why have I been arrested?]]
[[Stay silent]]Slowly, I stepped forward, trying to feign cooperation. I watched her step to the side to let me out and that’s when I took the opportunity. Bolting forward, I reached to grapple her, knocking her sword arm from her first and pinning it to the wall. She came up with her other hand to pull me off and I ducked under it. I just needed to run. It didn’t matter if I could fight or not, as long as I was quicker than her.
But despite getting the immediate hit in, she was still a trained guard. I felt the air slip from my lungs as she hauled me upwards and slammed me against the wall. Steel bands wrapped around my wrist and a jolt went through me. My stomach suddenly felt sick and my mind fuzzy. My cheek scraped against the stone wall as she knocked my legs apart, immobilizing me.
“Not that strong, huh?” she whispered in my ear. “Don’t worry. Probably a good thing. Means we won’t have to do away with you. Word to the wise though, I wouldn’t keep up this attitude with him. He’ll send you straight to the flesh pits if you do.”
Shoving me forward, she faced me towards an endless passage. Flickering flames burned in the sconces between doors. When I tried to turn again, she grabbed the back of my shirt, twisting me into her grip.
I had little choice but to go forward.
Wind whipped through the passage before me, brushing against my cheeks in a cool balm. Up until now, I hadn’t realized just how humid my surroundings were. The tunnel was straight and long and felt as if it was gradually leading downwards but there was no way of knowing. The orange flames lining the hall did little to light my way and I found myself stumbling forward whether I wanted to go that way or not.
[[Where am I?]]
[[Why have I been arrested?]]
[[Stay silent]]
<<set $cuffs to "true">>
My eyes ticked down towards the sword hooked at her waist, wondering how quickly she could pull it out. When my gaze traveled upwards, I watched her hand twitch. There was little doubt that if I made any sudden movement, that blade would be at my throat.
“I doubt your Warden is going to want me roughed up,” I said slowly. They were taking an interest in me and while I didn’t know why, it was enough for me to know that I might be able to use that to my advantage.
The guard shifted on her feet. “The Warden is a busy man. He might not even notice you missing.”
“You were specifically sent for me,” I pointed out.
“Accidents happen.”
She looked as if she were hoping for an accident, in fact. Desperately willing for me to move so she could take action.
[[Agree to go with her]]
[[Try to run past her]]
<<set $perception ++>>Looking back over my shoulder, I squinted at the woman sent to escort me. “Where am I?” I asked. Maybe a name would spark some familiarity within me. Give me something to go off of. But the woman remained silent. Poking me in the back occasionally to get me to move faster but saying nothing. Her job was to escort me to this Warden and it ended there.
We walked far longer than I thought we would, ducking several times as the shadows crept down from the ceiling, looking as if they were stretching out to touch me. Several times, I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye as the flames flickered in just such a way, sending barely seen visages of lurking forms scattering into the dark.
We stopped in front of a closed door, no different from the rest aside from a faded insignia painted at eye level. The woman reached around me, knocking twice before shoving open the door. I squinted at the sudden burst of bright light. The glow of the room nearly knocking me back.
“Prisoner 47b, Warden.”
I looked towards the guard, realizing they were talking about me.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Vansito.”
In the back half of the room sat a cluttered wood desk, piled with files and papers, all of which looked as if they were spilling to the ground. A man sat amidst it all, looking down at a black bound ledger, his head resting upon his hand.
The woman paused. “It’s Valence, sir.”
He didn’t even look up. “Thank you for bringing them. You are dismissed.”
Lieutenant Valence nodded, pushing me forward into the room a bit more. When the door shut behind me, I was left in silence, staring at the man across the way. His skin was deep in complexion, a stark contrast to the bright lights within the room. Black hair was swept back from his face, showcasing the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw. He wore a coat different from his guards, made of a dark blue instead of crimson. It was highlighted with silver metal and adornments denoting his position.
I waited for him to look at me, watching as he took his time with whatever he was jotting down. When his gaze finally did turn towards mine, it was after a quick signature and the meticulous actions of him putting away his quill. Grey eyes locked onto my own, his gaze a hardened point as he looked me over.
“You are not what I expected.”
[[Please. I did nothing wrong]]
[[I'm not what I expected either]]
[[Greet the Warden with respect]]Looking back over my shoulder, I squinted at the woman sent to escort me. “What have I even been arrested for?” I asked. Maybe a name would spark some familiarity within me. Give me something to go off of. But the woman remained silent. Poking me in the back occasionally to get me to move faster but saying nothing. Her job was to escort me to this Warden and it ended there.
We walked far longer than I thought we would, ducking several times as the shadows crept down from the ceiling, looking as if they were stretching out to touch me. Several times, I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye as the flames flickered in just such a way, sending barely seen visages of lurking forms scattering into the dark.
We stopped in front of a closed door, no different from the rest aside from a faded insignia painted at eye level. The woman reached around me, knocking twice before shoving open the door. I squinted at the sudden burst of bright light. The glow of the room nearly knocking me back.
“Prisoner 47b, Warden.”
I looked towards the guard, realizing they were talking about me.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Vansito.”
In the back half of the room sat a cluttered wood desk, piled with files and papers, all of which looked as if they were spilling to the ground. A man sat amidst it all, looking down at a black bound ledger, his head resting upon his hand.
The woman paused. “It’s Valence, sir.”
He didn’t even look up. “Thank you for bringing them. You are dismissed.”
Lieutenant Valence nodded, pushing me forward into the room a bit more. When the door shut behind me, I was left in silence, staring at the man across the way. His skin was deep in complexion, a stark contrast to the bright lights within the room. Black hair was swept back from his face, showcasing the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw. He wore a coat different from his guards, made of a dark blue instead of crimson. It was highlighted with silver metal and adornments denoting his position.
I waited for him to look at me, watching as he took his time with whatever he was jotting down. When his gaze finally did turn towards mine, it was after a quick signature and the meticulous actions of him putting away his quill. Grey eyes locked onto my own, his gaze a hardened point as he looked me over.
“You are not what I expected.”
[[Please. I did nothing wrong]]
[[I'm not what I expected either]]
[[Greet the Warden with respect]]Briefly, I looked over my shoulder at the guard. Their face remained passive, eyes forward. We passed no one else in the tunnel aside from closed doors. I wondered how many prisoners were located behind them, rotting away without the knowledge of who they were or where they were even at.
We walked far longer than I thought we would, ducking several times as the shadows crept down from the ceiling, looking as if they were stretching out to touch me. Several times, I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye as the flames flickered in just such a way, sending barely seen visages of lurking forms scattering into the dark.
We stopped in front of a closed door, no different from the rest aside from a faded insignia painted at eye level. The woman reached around me, knocking twice before shoving open the door. I squinted at the sudden burst of bright light. The glow of the room nearly knocking me back.
“Prisoner 47b, Warden.”
I looked towards the guard, realizing they were talking about me.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Vansito.”
In the back half of the room sat a cluttered wood desk, piled with files and papers, all of which looked as if they were spilling to the ground. A man sat amidst it all, looking down at a black bound ledger, his head resting upon his hand.
The woman paused. “It’s Valence, sir.”
He didn’t even look up. “Thank you for bringing them. You are dismissed.”
Lieutenant Valence nodded, pushing me forward into the room a bit more. When the door shut behind me, I was left in silence, staring at the man across the way. His skin was deep in complexion, a stark contrast to the bright lights within the room. Black hair was swept back from his face, showcasing the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw. He wore a coat different from his guards, made of a dark blue instead of crimson. It was highlighted with silver metal and adornments denoting his position.
I waited for him to look at me, watching as he took his time with whatever he was jotting down. When his gaze finally did turn towards mine, it was after a quick signature and the meticulous actions of him putting away his quill. Grey eyes locked onto my own, his gaze a hardened point as he looked me over.
“You are not what I expected.”
[[Please. I did nothing wrong]]
[[I'm not what I expected either]]
[[Greet the Warden with respect]]
Taking a deep breath, I stood awkwardly in the middle of the office. It was clearly an old cell, fashioned with fresh lighting and a new floor that was peeling in the corners. “Please. I did nothing wrong. I - I don’t even know why I’m here.”
The man nodded in that generic way that one would when listening to the filled conversation of someone highly unimportant.
“That is what we will be discussing today. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to a chair across from him. One of the only surfaces that was not covered in paperwork. Slowly, I walked forward, lowering myself onto the creaking wooden chair. “Can I have your name, please,” he asked, pulling out another ledger and pen before looking at me expectantly. The quill was dwarfed in his hands and it was becoming increasingly clear just how big this Warden truly was. It now seemed almost laughable that he had sent the guard instead of collecting me himself. Though, I supposed a man of his stature wasn’t going to be bothering himself for anything so trivial.
When he cleared his throat, my gaze snapped towards him. I was unaware that my gaze had been wandering, trying to come to terms with my surroundings and the sinking sensation that I had perhaps done something wrong. “What?” I asked numbly.
“Your name,” he said simply. “I need it for the books. I would prefer not to lock you in as prisoner 47b.”
[[I don't know my name]]
[[You can call me prisoner 47b]]
[[I knew I needed to answer but fear consumed me]]I stared at him with a weak smile. “To be honest, I’m not what I expected either.” It was my attempt at a joke. The man seemed unaffected by this, as he only nodded at me in that slightly generic way one did when listening to conversation they deemed unimportant.
“Please, have a seat.” He gestured to a chair across from him. One of the only surfaces that was not covered in paperwork. Slowly, I walked forward, lowering myself onto the creaking wooden chair. “Can I have your name, please,” he asked, pulling out another ledger and pen before looking at me expectantly. The quill was dwarfed in his hands and it was becoming increasingly clear just how big this Warden truly was. It now seemed almost laughable that he had sent the guard instead of collecting me himself. Though, I supposed a man of his stature wasn’t going to be bothering himself for anything so trivial.
The pen he held hovered above the page, the ink dripping down in crisp lines, forming words without the tip even touching the parchment. “How does it do that?” I asked.
“You would have to ask the artificer. Name please.”
“So I will be getting out of here to ask the artificer?” I was trying to ease the tension in the room. The tension predominantly coming from me. But the man before me looked unamused.
“Your name,” he said simply. “I need it for the books. I would prefer not to log you as prisoner 47b.”
I nodded, as if I understood, when it was clear that I truly did not.
[[I don't know my name]]
[[You can call me prisoner 47b]]
“Hello,” I stated, trying to give him a weak smile. I kept my palms facing outwards, as if to try and denote to him that I was not a threat. Not to the likes of him at least. It was clear that the man behind the desk was large just with the way the quill had been dwarfed within his hand.
“Afternoon,” he greeted in return. “Can you please take a seat?” He gestured to a chair across from him. One of the only surfaces that was not covered in paperwork. Slowly, I walked forward, lowering myself onto the creaking wooden chair. “Can I have your name, please,” he asked, pulling out another ledger and pen before looking at me expectantly.
“Can I ask where exactly here is?” What little I had seen of the streets had not been recognizable. Nor had the face of the men who had dragged me here. Even the smells from beneath the cowl were foreign as the night air was filled with spices and floral scents that I had yet to know.
“The holding center of the Night Market,” he said, as if that was enough explanation. Brushing the lint from his tailored jacket, he looked as if he was merely humoring my questions. “Name?”
“I don’t even know what I am being detained for.”
“Your name,” he said again, blatantly ignoring my attempts for information. “I need it for the books.”
I frowned. “Wait. The Night Market?”
“Your name, please.”
The Night Market. There was no familiarity to it, and yet swaths of information tried to unravel in the corners of my mind, clawing out from beneath a blanket of cobwebs. But the more I tried to cling to them, the further away they seemed. I pinched the bridge of my nose. I could have sworn that one eyed man had mentioned it though. I know he had said it at least once, and it brought forth nothing but a holding title for where I was.
“Look,” he said with a sigh. “I am sure you have plenty of questions. However, I am not the one to answer them for you. You are in processing. I simply need a name for the records. I would prefer not to clock you as prisoner number 47B.”
[[I don't know my name]]
[[You can call me prisoner 47b]]
I felt my heart pound against my chest, twisting my insides into knots. “I don’t know,” I said truthfully. That elicited a frown from him.
“You do not know what?”
“My name. I don’t know my name.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” I protested. “I don’t know my name. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how I got here.”
With a sigh, he set his pen aside. “You mean to tell me, that you have somehow infiltrated our market, something, I may add, is nearly impossible to do, and you have no knowledge of who you are or where you are from?”
“Yes,” I told him, a desperate plea to my voice.
He leaned back in his chair, looking me over once again. So far, everyone I had met kept doing that. As if I were something new. Something they had never seen before. “I would like to work with you,” he told me earnestly. “I would like to believe that your presence here within the market is merely a mistake. But in order to do that, I am going to need you to tell me the truth.”
“I am telling you the truth,” I insisted.
Reaching out, he turned the piece of paper he had before him around to face me. “Do you know what this is? It is a forum. Credentials, if you will. A way to log you into our system. Everyone within the market has a set of these papers. If you do not have a set of these papers, you are considered an enemy to our livelihood. I am trying very hard to keep you from falling into the category where I have deemed you unfit to be within our realm. But in order to do so, I need you to be truthful with me. So, let's try this one last time. What is your name?”
[[I am telling you the truth]]
[[Lie and make up a name|Name]]
[[I am prisoner 47b then]]The truth was, I didn’t actually know my name. It struck me hard at that moment that even if I wanted to, I had nothing to give him.
“Prisoner 47B has a nice ring to it,” I said, trying to give myself a moment to think. So far, all I knew, was I had landed within a place that I had no knowledge of, with not even my name to cling to.
The man's lips thinned. I could see his fingers tightening on the quill while the other ones drummed beneath the binding of the book he held. “I see. I don’t suppose if I asked you why you were here, you would tell me that either?”
"Would you believe me if I told you I didn't know?" The pinched look onhis face said he clearly would not.
Reaching out, he turned the piece of paper he had before him around to face me. “Do you know what this is? It is a forum. Credentials, if you will. A way to log you into our system. Everyone within the market has a set of these papers. If you do not have a set of these papers, you are considered an enemy to our livelihood. I am trying very hard to keep you from falling into the category where I have deemed you unfit to be within our realm. But in order to do so, I need you to be truthful with me. So, let's try this one last time. What is your name?”
[[Lie and make up a name|Name]]
[[I don't know who I am]]
[[Isn't it more important to discuss why I'm here?]]“I am telling you the truth,” I practically shouted. I didn’t know how else to get it through to this man that I didn’t remember anything. There was a growing amount of frustration on both our ends from it and while I wanted to be able to answer him, I didn’t know what the repercussions would be if I tried to lie.
With a put out sigh, he snapped his book shut. For a moment, I thought I saw his grey eyes flash silver. There was something different about them that made me wish to recoil while simultaneously falling into a form of supplication and bowing for his respect. The odd feeling was gone as soon as it came.
“If you do not wish to cooperate, I will not make you,” he said pragmatically. “However, I do have to tell you that if you do not start cooperating, I will be forced to escort you to the flesh pits.”
My stomach rolled at the title. “Flesh pits?”
“Oh, yes,” he said sagely. I could see his nostrils flaring with a barely concealed temper though. “I do believe that you are not from around here. You, prisoner 47B, are now a ward of the Night Market. What that means is that you have been taken in for due processing and based on our conversation here, a price for your bail will be set. Now normally, after the price has been set, we put you on the bail block where people can bid for your debt. Once bought, you will work it off in their company before you are released back into the world once more, a reformed citizen without a debt hanging over your head. If then, you choose to go home, that is fine by us. But we do wish to have compensation for the trouble you have caused us first.”
He allowed a moment for that to sink in, staring at me silently as he watched the horror cross my eyes.
“But,” he continued. “Since you are refusing to cooperate, it does show me that you will be trouble for whoever buys your debt. That is not something that we like here. In situations like this it is easier to put you within the flesh pits where you will be sold off for body parts.” He looked me up and down, as if appraising an item rather than a living, breathing individual. “You could probably fetch us a decent price.”
[[Respond in anger]]
[[Respond in horror]]
[[Lie and make up a name|Name]]“My name is $name,” I told him. Despite it being a lie, it still slotted against me in a way that felt right. As if it were something that now clung to me like a second layer of skin
“Thank you for your cooperation. I can see your skin color is $skincolor and that your eyes are $eyecolor.” Little notations were jotted down on the paper. “Do you have any preferred pronouns to speak of?”
The paper before him was slowly becoming my only form of identification. The slip of parchment had more information about my own person on it than my own thoughts had contained upon first arriving in my cell. I stared at it, trying to make sense of the situation I had gotten myself into. How could one little piece of paper somehow make me feel more real?
The Warden cleared his throat, pulling my attention back to him. <<if $cuffs == "true">> "Would you like the cuffs off? I see no reason to keep them on if you are cooperating." Truth was, I almost forgot they were on myself. They were light and had warmed to my skin. But I nodded all the same, holding my bound hands out. They clicked open and fell to the desk without the man even moving. "Your pronouns, please."<<elseif $cuffs == "true">> “If you could please focus. We can get the preliminaries of the paper work done and have you on your way. Pronouns please.”<</if>>
[[I identify as Male|Pronouns][$pgen to "0"]]
[[I identify as Female|Pronouns][$pgen to "1"]]
[[I identify as Non binary|Pronouns][$pgen to "2"]]“I do not know who I am,” I said firmly. “So if you need a name, it’s going to be prisoner 47b. I have nothing else for you.”
Disappointment colored the man's features at my words. Slowly, he reached out, taking the paper and crumpling it in his hand. It dropped to the floor with a whisper. In one fluid motion he rose, tucking his book inside his jacket pocket. A sigil could be seen there. One made of red velvet. The details were lost as he let the material fall closed.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
In three quick strides, he was before me, snatching my hands up in his hold. I could feel my wrists being crushed beneath his grip, the delicate bones beneath my skin rubbing together and threatening to snap. Pain and surprise raced equally across my face as I looked up at him. His eyes glowed a bright silver, the whites of which were nothing more than a layer of blinding light spilling into the room.
I wanted to run. I wanted to fight. To do anything but stand there and gawk at the man before me. But I couldn’t move. With nothing more than his fingers wrapped around my wrists, I was immobilized.
As the smell of burnt flesh filled the room, pain rolled through me. I could see grey tendrils of something sticky and crackling with magic seep from beneath his fingers, wafting up towards my sweaty face and filling my nose with the smell of my own seared skin. My knees buckled at the pain, but he kept me on my feet.
I didn’t know how long we stood there. The passage of time was lost to the rolling slide of a knife’s edge that crept across me. I could feel either tears or sweat wet my cheeks, my body a live wire far outside the bounds of my control.
When he let me go, I gasped.
[[Throw up]]
[[I will myself not to be sick]]
[[The fight has left me and I begin to cry]]I felt the words stick in my throat. He was demanding something of me I didn’t even have an answer to. Because the second he asked me the question, it hit me squarely in the chest. I didn’t have a name. Not one I remembered. And that was the most terrifying feeling in the world right now.
The man's lips thinned. I could see his fingers tightening on the quill while the other ones drummed beneath the binding of the book he held. “I see. May I caution you that silence will not work in your favor?”
Opening my mouth, I tried to force the words out. To tell him absolutely anything. Tears began to fill my eyes though as my heart pounded loudly in my chest.
Reaching out, he turned the piece of paper he had before him around to face me. “Do you know what this is? It is a forum. Credentials, if you will. A way to log you into our system. Everyone within the market has a set of these papers. If you do not have a set of these papers, you are considered an enemy to our livelihood. I am trying very hard to keep you from falling into the category where I have deemed you unfit to be within our realm. But in order to do so, I need you to be truthful with me. So, let's try this one last time. What is your name?”
[[Lie and make up a name|Name]]
[[I don't know my name]]“That’s unfair. I don’t even know why I’m here.” I felt my blood boil at the audacity of this man. With the simple refusal of my name the society in which he worked in deemed me unworthy of their time and was willing to sell me for parts.
“Don’t you?” he quirked a brow at me. It was clear this man wasn’t believing a single word of what I was trying to say.
“You don’t get to take that tone with me. You chop people up and sell them for parts because they don’t have a name to give you,” I shouted. He seemed unfazed by my outburst and other than a brief moment where I thought I had seen a flash of concealed temper, the man overall looked rather bored with me now.
I took a calming breath, trying to regain control of the situation. Not that I ever had it to begin with. “You haven’t even told me why I have been arrested,” I reasoned.
“Because you have entered the Night Market without permission and are refusing to cooperate with me now.”
“Then kick me out,” I said, filing my hands to the side. “I don’t even know what the Night Market is. Kick me out of here, and I’ll happily be on my way.”
“I’m afraid it doesn't work that way.”
“You can’t arrest me for being in a place I don’t want to be, against my own will.”
“We can. And we did.” With a deep breath, he let his grey eyes look at me in false sympathy, as if to move the process along with a thin threat of understanding. “So now my question to you, is would you like to make this easy on yourself or are these papers pointless?”
[[Lie and make up a name|Name]]
[[Take your chance in the flesh pits]]“You sell people for body parts?” I felt myself recoiling back into my chair, trying to put some distance between us.
“The ones who don’t cooperate, yes.”
I felt my stomach roll in horror. Suddenly I was realizing just how bad of a situation I was in. I had done nothing, absolutely nothing but not share my name with this man, and it was an offense punishable by dismemberment. I looked up at him, my eyes wide with shock and disgust. He remained impassive, clearly having been on the receiving end of such a look many times before.
“I don’t even know how I got here,” I said numbly.
“Whether that is true or not is not up for debate. You are here without invitation. If you would like to cooperate with me, perhaps we could come to a better understanding of your situation.”
“You can’t arrest me for being in a place I don’t want to be, against my own will.”
“We can. And we did.” With a deep breath, he let his grey eyes look at me in false sympathy, as if to move the process along with a thin threat of understanding. “So now my question to you, is would you like to make this easy on yourself or will I be escorting you to the flesh pits?”
[[Lie and make up a name|Name]]
[[Take your chance in the flesh pits]]“You know what?” I said, my voice wavering with anger. “You can go fuck yourself.”
Disappointment colored the man's features at my words. Slowly, he reached out, taking the paper and crumpling it in his hand. It dropped to the floor with a whisper. In one fluid motion he rose, tucking his book inside his jacket pocket. A sigil could be seen there. One made of red velvet. The details were lost as he let the material fall closed.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
In three quick strides, he was before me, snatching my hands up in his hold. I could feel my wrists being crushed beneath his grip, the delicate bones beneath my skin rubbing together and threatening to snap. Pain and surprise raced equally across my face as I looked up at him. His eyes glowed a bright silver, the whites of which were nothing more than a layer of blinding light spilling into the room.
I wanted to run. I wanted to fight. To do anything but stand there and gawk at the man before me. But I couldn’t move. With nothing more than his fingers wrapped around my wrists, I was immobilized.
As the smell of burnt flesh filled the room, pain rolled through me. I could see grey tendrils of something sticky and crackling with magic seep from beneath his fingers, wafting up towards my sweaty face and filling my nose with the smell of my own seared skin. My knees buckled at the pain, but he kept me on my feet.
I didn’t know how long we stood there. The passage of time was lost to the rolling slide of a knife’s edge that crept across me. I could feel either tears or sweat wet my cheeks, my body a live wire far outside the bounds of my control.
When he let me go, I gasped.
[[Throw up]]
[[I will myself not to be sick]]
[[The fight has left me and I begin to cry]]<<if $pgen == "0">>"I identify as male," I told him, watching as he marked down a small check on his paper. <<elseif $pgen == "1">>"I identify as female," I told him, watching as he marked down a small check on his paper. <<elseif $pgen == "2">>"I identify as non binary," I told him, watching as he marked down a small check on his paper.<</if>>
"Thank you for your cooperation," he said blandly. "It does make the process far easier. Now, just a few more minutes and we can set your bail." I could see him scribbling something, glancing up at me at me occasionally. There was something different about him that made me wish to recoil while simultaneously falling into a form of supplication and bowing for his respect. The odd feeling was gone as soon as it came.
"Reason for being in the Night Market?”
[[I don't know]]
[[I don't know where here is and I'm scared]]
[[Because I fucked up in a past life]]“Look, I’m really not trying to be difficult in this situation,” I said. “But I really do not know where I am or why I’m here.” I tried to make my face seem as open and honest as possible. The situation I was faced with was a mistake. Nothing more. But in order to prove that I needed someone on my side.
The man looked at me, something akin to resign on his face. He didn’t look too surprised by my statement, but I doubted it would lead me to being released so easily.
“You see, that is a problem for me and one of the main reasons why you are here now. Either you are lying to me which has implications that are far more detrimental than you seem to understand. Or, you are telling the truth which causes me great concern given how you entered our realm.”
“I’m not lying,” I said once more. I felt broken and on repeat.
The man shifted in his seat, clearly resigning to himself to what he deemed my lies. “Well then, there is nothing left to do than to escort you down to the beachfront where you will be detained until someone buys your bail. From there, you will be watched. I will be taking a personal interest in your market activities from this point forward and advise you to tread lightly. Because with the slightest infraction, I will not hesitate to bring you back within these walls.”
It didn’t matter what I said at this point. Whoever this man was had made up his mind. My voice was nothing more than scattered words.
[[Next|Set bail]]“You are not listening to me,” I said in desperation. “I don’t know where I am. This place is not my home. I’m not even sure where home is.” I could hear the tremor within my own voice and wished I was strong enough to cover such a weakness. But the terrifying reality of my situation was pressing down on me and threatening to bring me to my knees.
The man looked at me, his mask of apathy faltering. “I do wish you would tell me the truth,” he said sadly. “I believe you when you say you are frightened and I do wish to help you. But when you are dishonest with me, I am forced to assume that this is all a ploy.”
“That is inhumane,” I protested. “I haven’t even been given a chance to defend myself.”
“Your chance to defend yourself comes with your obedience. Serve out your time and do not repeat the same mistake.” His voice had gentled as we spoke, pitching down into a softer cadence. Despite this, it was clear that there were still charges being brought against me. Ones that made little to no sense.
“I need you to answer a question for me,” he said. His eyes had turned kinder somehow. Was this a trick? “And I need you to do it as honestly as you can. It will be off the books, of course.”
I didn’t nod, nor did I give him an indication of ill cooperation. I continued to stare at him, my face feeling hot and flushed and my desire to scream for something familiar shaking me to my core.
“You say you are not from around here,” he began. He closed his book and tucked his pen away. “Are you working for someone? Nod your head if you feel in danger.” I felt in danger. But not from some faceless form elsewhere in my mind. But from the very situation that I found myself in.
I wasn’t sure what it was that he saw in my eyes, but his face fell and he nodded, as if gleaming some information that I did not have. “If at any point you change your mind, please come tell me.”
Tears began to waver against my vision. It didn’t matter what I said at this point. This man had made his mind up about who I was and why I was here. And it didn’t fit into the safe narrative he had for the world he commanded.
[[Next|Set bail]]“It is becoming increasingly clear to me that I perhaps fucked someone over in a past life, and this is their cute little way of getting me back.” The thought had crossed my mind that I was cursed somehow. It was about as good of an explanation as I was going to get given my lack of memory.
The Warden’s lips twisted into something unpleasant at my statement.
“What?” I said. “Don’t want to write it down in your book?” I supposed the idea that I was cursed was not one he wanted on record. Probably would be more hassle than it was worth to explain to his superiors.
“Are you quite done?” he asked. The mask of indifference upon his face was beginning to crack in irritation. He didn’t wish to be in this cell any more than I did.
“I mean, do I even get to decide that?” I bit out. “It’s clear that you people don’t care about who is innocent or guilty. Something doesn’t fit within whatever parameters you all have in your brainwashed heads, and you toss it in a cell. Isn’t that right?”
“You entered the Night Market through improper channels,” he repeated.
“I know! I fucking know already.”
Again with the lip pursing. Apparently, Mr. Cleancut and Proper didn’t like my cursing. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows upon my knees. “Does this do it for you?” I asked, daring to push the envelope. “Does locking people away in these cells for no other reason than your guards were fucking bored give you a sense of completion at night? Or, are you just so fucking warped that you can’t find it in yourself to even question what you’re doing anymore.”
Something cold flickered within his eyes, the surrounding room dimming into a chilled silver. “Who are you working for?”
His question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I could only stare at him.
“Answer the question,” he gritted out. “Who are you working for?”
“I don’t have to tell you shit,” I snarled. I hated this man. I knew nothing of him other than he had a face that looked like it was carved from stone and one I wished to crack with my fists. I hated him for what he represented. I hated him for keeping me here. I hated him for the standard responses that he peeled off as if they were nothing more than stickers in a children's book.
“So,” he said, “how about we set your bail and get you on your way.”
[[Next|Set bail]]“After evaluation, I wish to set you at an open bail. You are relatively clean and whole, so you should fetch a decent price. We will put you up on the bail block this afternoon and see if there are any takers. From there, we can discuss with the buyers personally how much your debt should be. As long as you manage to keep your mouth shut, your penance shouldn’t last for more than a month.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
My mind was reeling at all the information that had been thrown at me so far. It was as if I had all the pieces to what they were saying but didn’t know how to put them together in a way I understood.
“I do apologize that no one came to inform you of our proceedings earlier, but we are a bit short-staffed today. There was a culling.” Standing, straightened out his coat before reaching for the sword hanging on the wall near him. Pale scars littered his knuckles, traversing beneath his sleeves. I eyed them as he sheathed his sword, buckling it in place before he turned to me again.
“You are a prisoner of the Night Market. You have been taken in for due processing and your bail will be set accordingly based on your worth and the extent of your crime.”
“You’ve said all that,” I said numbly.
He ignored me, continuing his spiel. “You have been found guilty of entering the Night Market without the proper papers or an invitation. In the last twenty-four hours no one has stepped forth on your behalf, and you will now be deemed as an invader of the market itself.”
I stared at him blankly. I had been in bed. There had been a silver light cast from the moon inching in through my window. I had just been so tired. So confused. Then it was gone. The blank spot that was my memories felt like a bottomless void, too painful to dwell on.
“While it is unclear how you managed to sneak in, the finer details are not something we are interested in. Information you may have been able to trade in exchange for your freedom is not something we will be interested in at this time. It is unclear whether your mind is your own or if it has been tampered with.”
“Tampered?” Why did my tongue feel so thick all of a sudden? And why was my heart beating in an off brand stutter?
“Blessedly, I have found no true corruption within you and therefore, you will be given a second chance within society.” His words would have sounded arrogant from anyone else. From him, they sounded bland. As if he were reading from a worn out list while his mind thought about what it was he would do for dinner that evening. “From here, I’ll send you to the bail block where the general public can come and buy an allotted number of days that we feel you should serve in penance. You will work off that debt with them and be free to go where you please afterward. In the interim, they will feed you and house you. If you renege on your debt, if you try to leave, or if you cause bodily harm to the person or persons who own your papers, you will be tossed into the mines without due course. From there, may the Knowing have mercy on your soul.”
[[This is your legal system?]]
[[Please, I need help]]I would have fallen to my knees if it was not for the strong arm that wrapped around my waist, while a hand cupped the back of my sweaty head. I could hear him whispering something against my skin but did not recognize the words. Looking down, two black bands were etched into my flesh, nearly an inch thick and still bubbling with inky heat. <<if $cuffs == "true">>The cuffs that had been wrapped around me before were now only faint bits of metal, coating my wrists in a sheen of metalic paint.<</if>>
Slowly, he pushed me away.
I bent at the waist, emptying what little contents of my stomach I still had, into the corner of the room. My skin felt hot and too tight, and my heart raced against my chest as everything in me told me to run.
Yet, I couldn’t. For reasons that I hadn’t quite figured out yet, I was just standing there.
Numbly, I stood in the middle of the room, blinking owlishly at the Warden. He looked nothing more than a man. His appearance was impeccable. Not a trace of whatever had happened left upon him. As if he had not just seared a mark into my skin.
“To the flesh pits, then,” he said evenly.
Walking past, he did not wait for me as he opened the door and I soon found it did not matter. Whatever he burned into my skin compelled me forward. My feet stumbled after him without thought, my wrists bound together by something I could not see as I followed the man walking stalwart in front of me.
The passage outside his office was lit only by low burning torches embedded into the jagged rock faces around us. I could hear the weeping of men and women, some of them crying for help. Voices that sounded entirely too young echoed around me, causing my head to swim as we continued to walk. It didn’t matter how hard I fought, the sand packed dirt beneath me did little when I dug my toes in. The bands around my wrist stung with something electric, the sharp smell of a cauterized wound wafting towards me.
“I have a desire to prepare you for what is to come,” the Warden was saying as I tripped over the sensation of my feet moving without my accord. “Yet, I doubt it matters. Though, I do find myself compelled to tell you that it did not have to be this way. A little cooperation would have saved you from this fate.”
He looked over his shoulder at me. The firelight from the nearby torch caught across his face in a harsh arc. It made him look ancient and ethereal. Something cruel that had crawled from the depths to pass judgement on my soul. I could no longer tell if his words denoted true sorrow, or if he simply felt so irate over my actions that he was hoping to catalog the hatred within my own eyes for something personal and dark.
“I do hope that what happens to you is quick. I hear they can sometimes draw it out for days.”
I swallowed. There was nothing else I could say. As I watched the man duck beneath a low point in the cavern's ceiling, it was clear that I had pushed him too far. When he straightened, his shoulders squared and his steps became clipped and purposeful. There was no more opportunity to sway this man. I was beginning to wonder if there ever had been.
As we passed an open cell, I spied the dirty rags of another huddled in the corner. The delicate hand that peeked from the cloaks folds was pale and covered in boils. They were gone from this world and had been left to rot. The guards too busy to promptly give them a burial and instead, they had been left on display for people like me to see. It was then that I vowed something silent and true within my own mind. If I made it out of this, I would find whoever this Warden was, and destroy him. Wherever I was, whatever this place claimed to be, it needed to burn to something ashy and forgotten.
As the passage sloped upwards, I tilted my head up in defiance. I would not meet the unknown afraid. I would face it with the knowledge that until I could find my way back home, I would tear down the Night Market, brick by brick.
“What’s your name, Warden?” I asked, my voice echoing around the desolate cavern.
“Why would you want to know?”
[[So I can kill you one day]]
[[So I know who is responsible for my fate]]
[[You owe me an answer after everything]]
I would have fallen to my knees if it was not for the strong arm that wrapped around my waist, while a hand cupped the back of my sweaty head. I could hear him whispering something against my skin but did not recognize the words. Looking down, two black bands were etched into my flesh, nearly an inch thick and still bubbling with inky heat. <<if $cuffs == "true">>The cuffs that had been wrapped around me before were now only faint bits of metal, coating my wrists in a sheen of metalic paint.<</if>>
Slowly, he pushed me away.
My skin felt too hot and tight around the edges. A familiar roll was wavering in my stomach and threatening to emerge at the slightest tilt, but I pushed it down. It was with this refusal alone that I was able to keep myself under control, not wanting to show this man even an ounce of weakness.
Numbly, I stood in the middle of the room, blinking owlishly at the Warden. He looked nothing more than a man. His appearance was impeccable. Not a trace of whatever had happened left upon him. As if he had not just seared a mark into my skin.
“To the flesh pits, then,” he said evenly.
Walking past, he did not wait for me as he opened the door and I soon found it did not matter. Whatever he burned into my skin compelled me forward. My feet stumbled after him without thought, my wrists bound together by something I could not see as I followed the man walking stalwart in front of me.
The passage outside his office was lit only by low burning torches embedded into the jagged rock faces around us. I could hear the weeping of men and women, some of them crying for help. Voices that sounded entirely too young echoed around me, causing my head to swim as we continued to walk. It didn’t matter how hard I fought, the sand packed dirt beneath me did little when I dug my toes in. The bands around my wrist stung with something electric, the sharp smell of a cauterized wound wafting towards me.
“I have a desire to prepare you for what is to come,” the Warden was saying as I tripped over the sensation of my feet moving without my accord. “Yet, I doubt it matters. Though, I do find myself compelled to tell you that it did not have to be this way. A little cooperation would have saved you from this fate.”
He looked over his shoulder at me. The firelight from the nearby torch caught across his face in a harsh arc. It made him look ancient and ethereal. Something cruel that had crawled from the depths to pass judgement on my soul. I could no longer tell if his words denoted true sorrow, or if he simply felt so irate over my actions that he was hoping to catalog the hatred within my own eyes for something personal and dark.
“I do hope that what happens to you is quick. I hear they can sometimes draw it out for days.”
I swallowed. There was nothing else I could say. As I watched the man duck beneath a low point in the cavern's ceiling, it was clear that I had pushed him too far. When he straightened, his shoulders squared and his steps became clipped and purposeful. There was no more opportunity to sway this man. I was beginning to wonder if there ever had been.
As we passed an open cell, I spied the dirty rags of another huddled in the corner. The delicate hand that peeked from the cloaks folds was pale and covered in boils. They were gone from this world and had been left to rot. The guards too busy to promptly give them a burial and instead, they had been left on display for people like me to see. It was then that I vowed something silent and true within my own mind. If I made it out of this, I would find whoever this Warden was, and destroy him. Wherever I was, whatever this place claimed to be, it needed to burn to something ashy and forgotten.
As the passage sloped upwards, I tilted my head up in defiance. I would not meet the unknown afraid. I would face it with the knowledge that until I could find my way back home, I would tear down the Night Market, brick by brick.
“What’s your name, Warden?” I asked, my voice echoing around the desolate cavern.
“Why would you want to know?”
[[So I can kill you one day]]
[[So I know who is responsible for my fate]]
[[You owe me an answer after everything]]
I stared at him incredulously, pushing down the nausea and fear that were beginning to well within my stomach. “This is your legal system?” I asked.
“It is the system that allows each culture that inhabits this portion of the multiverse the most amount of due process while still maintaining a fair and just stance on the state of sentient life cohabiting with utmost harmony.”
He stared at me blankly as he rattled off the familiar spiel. The one that he obviously had practiced or the one that he had to give so often that it now became background noise. It was clear I would not be getting sympathy from this nameless man and at this point, I was unclear whether he even had the capacity to do so.
“Are you ready then?” The book was tucked away into the inner lining of his dark blue coat. I noticed a small sigil within the inner lining. Something embossed in red velvet and arcing up towards his lapel.
I stood on wobbly legs, the blood returning to my feet with pins and needles. “I suppose so.” It was clear that his question was not one with a choice.
“Good.” For the first time, he sounded pleased. Whether that was because he was excited for what came next, or simply because he was happy to be done with this interview, was unclear. “Then let's get you to the bail block. I hear there will be quite the crowd today.”
My eyes had adjusted while inside his office and as I stepped out into the dim lit tunnel again, I found myself needing a moment. The halls were low arcing tunnels that wound through torch lit corners lined with heavy metal doors. The Warden locked his door and walked past me with the clear expectation that I would follow. It was with a sinking sensation that I realized he only did this because there was nowhere to run.
As my eyes adjusted in the halls, I took a better look at the man. He was tall and stood with squared shoulders; a sure sign that he had served in some sort of army or infantry before. He had a tight jaw that often looked clenched, and cold grey eyes that I swore flashed silver in the dark. Beneath the silver buttoned coat he wore was a body that was muscular and solid. I doubted anyone tried hard to fight him on much of anything.
A few times, we had to stop, as the man spoke lowly to a few of the other guards that passed us by. Like the first guard, they donned red velvet tunic like coats and black trousers. A standard issue sword was belted to their hips. More than once, I saw their eyes tick down to an odd shape that was held between my captor’s hands. He seemed non the wiser to their curiosity as he fiddled with it, exchanging small pleasantries or orders. As far as I could tell, the man before me was mild-mannered and calm, and yet everyone seemed absolutely terrified of him.
[[Try to get a better look at what is in his hand]]
[[Ask the man's name]]
[[Stay quiet and accept your fate]]“Please.” It came out a shaken whisper.
His head snapped up at that, and for the first time, the man looked at me. Truly looked at me. His grey eyes hovered over the worried lines of my face, tracing down my bare arms to the dirt that was now lodged beneath my fingers from where they had curled against the dirty cobblestone streets. He had sat across from me for a small-time now. He knew my story and had shown very little desire to care. Yet that one word, please, compelled him more than any of my other displays of distress.
Swallowing, I took advantage of that. “I need help. I’m not lying. I don’t know where I am or how I got here. You can’t punish me for crimes I didn’t even know I was committing.” Tears welled within my eyes, and I knew that the sob that stuck within my throat was layered with every inch of fear I was feeling.
The moment was so brief I didn’t know if I had fabricated it. I thought I saw understanding though. A desire to be a more benevolent force than he had been. It was gone within seconds, the rigid lines of his face smoothing into the defined features of a tired man.
“I wish I could help you,” he said, his voice hushed. But he added nothing more.
I didn’t understand the weight of those words, or the way his eyes seemed to tick away with guilt. All I knew was that I was going to be sold off to the highest bidder within the next few hours and right now, the only one standing in the way of my freedom was him.
“I’m begging you,” I urged. “Please help me. You don’t have to get me home. Just turn a blind eye. Let me run.”
His fingers curled against the cobalt lines of his uniform. For a moment, I entertained the thought of trying to just slip past him. Walk out and hope that he did not try to stop me. But I was too frozen in fear and confusion to try.
“There will be plenty of people interested in you,” he said quickly. His gaze laid intensely upon mine, demanding that I listen. “Pay attention to them. While most in the market are truly just looking for workers, there are some with much less pure intentions. Make yourself undesirable to them.”
“How do I do that?”
“Don’t react. When they say something, trying to keep calm. Those types thrive off of fear, anger, any type of emotion that is heightened. Remain cool and they will lose interest in you.”
I felt a tear slip down my cheek. This was happening. We would be marching down to that bail block in a moments time, and I was supposed to rely on the happenstance of strangers to approach me for my freedom.
“Isn’t there anything else you can do?” I asked.
Slowly, he tilted his eyes up to me. They were steel grey and wavering around the edges. They peeled from beneath a set of dark lashes, his features suddenly looking tortured and grim. He said nothing though. Instead, he gestured for me to follow him.
My eyes had adjusted while inside his office and as I stepped out into the dim lit tunnel again, I found myself needing a moment. The halls were low arcing tunnels that wound through torch lit corners lined with heavy metal doors. The Warden locked his door and walked past me with the clear expectation that I would follow. It was with a sinking sensation that I realized he only did this because there was nowhere to run.
As my eyes adjusted in the halls, I took a better look at the man. He was tall and stood with squared shoulders; a sure sign that he had served in some sort of army or infantry before. He had a tight jaw that often looked clenched, and cold grey eyes that I swore flashed silver in the dark. Beneath the silver buttoned coat he wore was a body that was muscular and solid. I doubted anyone tried hard to fight him on much of anything.
A few times, we had to stop, as the man spoke lowly to a few of the other guards that passed us by. Like the first guard, they donned red velvet tunic like coats and black trousers. A standard issue sword was belted to their hips. More than once, I saw their eyes tick down to an odd shape that was held between my captor’s hands. He seemed non the wiser to their curiosity as he fiddled with it, exchanging small pleasantries or orders. As far as I could tell, the man before me was mild-mannered and calm, and yet everyone seemed absolutely terrified of him.
[[Try to get a better look at what is in his hand]]
[[Ask the man's name]]
[[Stay quiet and accept your fate]]The ground sloped upwards and with each step, the air became cleaner; far less muggy than the stifling surroundings I had very nearly gotten used to. Not for the first time, my eyes ticked down to what the Warden was fiddling with. He had retrieved it from his pocket as we walked and was running his thumb across it almost mechanically. The item itself was oblong and jagged, looking akin to a gem of some sort.
I quickened my steps, hoping the torchlight would fall across it in such a way that I could maybe get an idea of what it was. The Warden looked at me over his shoulder and spying where my eyes had swayed, quickly tucked it away.
“Something important?” I asked.
“A trinket,” he responded, turning his gaze forward.
“Your men keep staring at it.” I couldn’t quite understand why I was attempting to make conversation with this man other than to fill the oppressive void that filtered through the tunnels.
Not that it mattered. He didn’t answer me anyway. Just kept walking, head tilted forward, back straight.
We walked in silence for what felt like hours but in reality, was only a scant handful of minutes. I could feel the tunnels moving upwards, the dirt beneath our feet becoming firm before leaching into cracked stone. Cool and salty air brushed against my cheeks as the gentle roar of crashing waves began to make themselves known. The torches became more ornamental as we walked, their light far from necessary as filtered moonlight began to light our way.
“I would suggest you prepare yourself,” he said.
“For what?” When I looked up, I realized we had emerged from the tunnels. The sky above us was dotted with stars and below churned an ocean teeming with life.
Breathing in the fresh air, I felt the world around me tilt. There was no way for me to know what was to come. If I would make it out of here. The moment that had led to this moment felt dreamlike; nothing more than a confusing thought that was quickly passing me by. I knew that the next few hours would be crucial to my escape, but I had no basis on just what laid before me.
As I looked down towards the expanse of beach stretching into the night, my breath caught in my throat.
While I had no idea how why I had arrived in the Night Market, it was becoming clear that what my future held, far exceeded what I was capable of doing.
“Come along,” the Warden said, giving me no time to adjust. And just like that, the world around me became solid, and my heart felt like a leaded weight, barely beating in my chest.
[[Chapter One]]We walked in silence for what felt like hours but in reality, was only a scant handful of minutes. I could feel the tunnels moving upwards, the dirt beneath our feet becoming firm before leaching into cracked stone. Cool and salty air brushed against my cheeks as the gentle roar of crashing waves began to make themselves known. The torches became more ornamental as we walked, their light far from necessary as filtered moonlight began to light our way.
I felt something flip inside my chest. The impending knowledge that everything was about to change began to rattle against me. As I stared at the back of this man, I felt something overwhelm me, fighting inside my chest until it burst out.
“Can I ask you your name?” I didn’t know why it suddenly felt so important. Maybe it was simply because I had so little control over everything else. But his name, maybe if I knew his name, I could…
I looked down. I could what? What was a name going to give me that my previous words had not?
“Gabriel.”
His voice was soft, caught on the wind and taken into the night. When I looked up at him, I realized we had emerged from the tunnels. The sky above us was dotted with stars and below churned an ocean teeming with life.
“Gabriel,” I repeated. It felt odd on my lips.
Breathing in the fresh air, I felt the world around me tilt. There was no way for me to know what was to come. If I would make it out of here. The moment that had led to this moment felt dreamlike; nothing more than a confusing thought that was quickly passing me by. I knew that the next few hours would be crucial to my escape, but I had no basis on just what laid before me.
As I looked down towards the expanse of beach stretching into the night, my breath caught in my throat.
While I had no idea how why I had arrived in the Night Market, it was becoming clear that what my future held, far exceeded what I was capable of doing.
“Come along,” the Warden said, giving me no time to adjust. And just like that, the world around me became solid, and my heart felt like a leaded weight, barely beating in my chest.
[[Chapter One]]We walked in silence for what felt like hours but in reality, was only a scant handful of minutes. I could feel the tunnels moving upwards, the dirt beneath our feet becoming firm before leaching into cracked stone. Cool and salty air brushed against my cheeks as the gentle roar of crashing waves began to make themselves known. The torches became more ornamental as we walked, their light far from necessary as filtered moonlight began to light our way. I stared down at the ground, watching as it gradually became lighter and the marks of booted feet were almost engrained in the dirt below.
This was it. I felt as if I had just breathed life and it was already going to be snuffed out. Whatever this world was, it felt hostile and unkind, as if some sort of sickness plagued it. I could feel it hovering over my skin and seeping into my bones.
“I would suggest you prepare yourself,” he said.
When I looked up, I realized we had emerged from the tunnels. The sky above us was dotted with stars and below churned an ocean teeming with life.
Breathing in the fresh air, I felt the world around me tilt. There was no way for me to know what was to come. If I would make it out of here. The moment that had led to this moment felt dreamlike; nothing more than a confusing thought that was quickly passing me by. I knew that the next few hours would be crucial to my escape, but I had no basis on just what laid before me.
As I looked down towards the expanse of beach stretching into the night, my breath caught in my throat.
While I had no idea how why I had arrived in the Night Market, it was becoming clear that what my future held, far exceeded what I was capable of doing.
“Come along,” the Warden said, giving me no time to adjust. And just like that, the world around me became solid, and my heart felt like a leaded weight, barely beating in my chest.
[[Chapter One]]<img src="images/Chapter header 1 smaller.png"
height="300" width="900">
The sky above was stretched taut with stars, a miasma of swirling pinpoints of silver that made up an expanse far grander than anything I could fathom. The sky stretched outwards, limitless and bright, pulling my gaze out to sea until my vision blurred. The cosmos swirled just out of reach, tinged blue and soft pink at the edges, before cascading towards a distant fall somewhere just out of view.
“Please try to keep up.”
Gabriel. The first name in the blank tendril of the white noise that was my mind. Leading me towards a bail block to pay off a debt that was questionable at best. The path ahead sloped downwards from the opening maw of the cave that made up the cell block. Packed sand and jutting beach grass were clumped sporadically about while a cliffs edge fell to my right, dropping towards a roaring ocean that sparked with flashing electric waves. I glimpsed a tail flick from the water before diving back down, the entirety of the blue-black ocean vibrant and alive with short bursts of cerulean blue.
“It’s to make anyone think twice about jumping,” Gabriel said casually. My eyes snapped towards him. He was waiting for me impatiently, a few feet down the path. When I looked back at the ocean, I saw the snap of electricity light it once more. “Eels,” he explained. “Imported to the market. Another precaution to help with the comings and goings of our realm.”
I looked out towards the sea, wondering just how far you would have to swim to escape them, and if there was even anything beyond the horizon that offered a prisoner's salvation.
“We have a schedule to keep,” Gabriel said tiredly. Without waiting, he continued on down the path. I stumbled after him, my eyes trying to take in my surroundings.
A long white stretch of beach sat at the bottom of the sloping path we were on. Across the way, there was a line of tilted buildings, their windows open to let music and laughter spill out across the sand. The buildings themselves looked to be run down but lively as people milled in and out of open archways. All of this was in stark contrast to the crashing waves that lapped upon the shore, knocking against rickety old cages that were encrusted with brine. The worn pens were piled on top of each other, some having tumbled into the water when the height became too ambitious. Most were filled with people and creatures I was struggling to recognize, their features swimming in and out of my view as I tried to understand what all I was seeing. Horned beings, humanoid shapes with odd colored skin, and sentient looking animals all sat within the cages themselves. Some looked terrified, clinging to the bars with wide eyes. While others looked bored at the proceedings. More than one looked as if they were taking this opportunity to catch up on their sleep. The individuals on the outside of the cages would occasionally stop to talk to the prisoners within. It left a divide upon the beach between the market goers and the commodities they were here to buy.
“Please try to keep up.”
[[The world around me was fascinating to see]]
[[What I was seeing caused me to become angry]]
[[I was terrified of what I saw]]
<<set $route to "nofleshpits">>I would have fallen to my knees if it was not for the strong arm that wrapped around my waist, while a hand cupped the back of my sweaty head. I could hear him whispering something against my skin but did not recognize the words. Looking down, two black bands were etched into my flesh, nearly an inch thick and still bubbling with inky heat. <<if $cuffs == "true">>The cuffs that had been wrapped around me before were now only faint bits of metal, coating my wrists in a sheen of metalic paint.<</if>>
The sob that ripped from my throat then was one born of pain and fear. The fight that I had held so dear suddenly was shattered at my feet as I leaned against his chest, trembling.
Keeping his hands steady on me, he pushed me away from him, watching as I bent at the waist, trying to regain my composure. Everything felt as if it was splitting in two, my body and mind tearing apart as the sounds of my own cries echoed in my ears.
“It will be over soon,” the Warden tried to tell me. The words only made me cry harder as I became unsure of what they truly mean.
Slowly, my tears subsided and as I looked up at him, there was no change in his expression. I managed to stay on my own two feet as he released me, and only stood numbly in the middle of the room. The Warden looked nothing more than a man. His appearance was impeccable. Not a trace of whatever had happened left upon him. As if he had not just seared a mark into my skin.
“To the flesh pits, then,” he said evenly.
Walking past, he did not wait for me as he opened the door and I soon found it did not matter. Whatever he burned into my skin compelled me forward. My feet stumbled after him without thought, my wrists bound together by something I could not see as I followed the man walking stalwart in front of me.
“Please.” It came out a shaken whisper, prompting him to stop in his tracks. When he turned to look at me, it was as if he was seeing me for the first time. His grey eyes hovered over the worried lines of my face, tracing down my bare arms to the dirt that was now lodged beneath my fingers from where they had curled against the dirty cobblestone streets. He had sat across from me. He knew my story and had shown very little desire to care. Yet that one word, //please//, compelled him more than any of my other displays of distress.
Swallowing, I took advantage of that. “I need help. I’m not lying. I don’t know where I am or how I got here. You can’t punish me for crimes I didn’t even know I was committing.” Tears welled within my eyes, and I knew that the sob that stuck within my throat was layered with every inch of fear I was feeling.
The moment was so brief I didn’t know if I had fabricated it. I thought I saw understanding though. A desire to be a more benevolent force than he had been. It was gone within seconds, the rigid lines of his face smoothing into the defined features of a tired man.
“I wish I could help you,” he said, his voice hushed. “But it is clear you are beyond that.”
“I’m begging you,” I urged. “You don’t have to get me home. Just turn a blind eye. Let me run.”
His eyes flicked downwards towards the marks on my skin. Thick bands of ink that were controlling my every move now. It was helpless, sinking towards his whims. My fate was entirely within this stranger's hands.
“You should have considered that before,” he told me, though there was no cruelty to his voice. Just the resigned decision that I was not worth saving.
The passage outside his office was lit only by low burning torches embedded into the jagged rock faces around us. I could hear the weeping of men and women, some of them crying for help. Voices that sounded entirely too young echoed around me, causing my head to swim as we continued to walk. It didn’t matter how hard I fought, the sand packed dirt beneath me did little when I dug my toes in. The bands around my wrist stung with something electric, the sharp smell of a cauterized wound wafting towards me.
“I have a desire to prepare you for what is to come,” the Warden was saying as I tripped over the sensation of my feet moving without my accord. “Yet, I doubt it matters. I do hope that what happens to you is quick. I hear they can sometimes draw it out for days.”
I swallowed. There was nothing else I could say. As I watched the man duck beneath a low point in the cavern's ceiling, it was clear that I had pushed him too far. When he straightened, his shoulders squared and his steps became clipped and purposeful. There was no more opportunity to sway this man. I was beginning to wonder if there ever had been.
“What’s your name, Warden?” I asked, my voice echoing around the desolate cavern.
“Why would you want to know?”
[[So I know who is responsible for my fate]]
[[You owe me an answer after everything]]
[[Maybe if you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine]]I stared steadily at his back. He didn’t even bother to turn around while addressing me. And why would he, with his magic crackling against my skin. I had nowhere to go that wasn’t of his choosing.
“I’d like to know the name of the man I intend to kill when I get out of here,” I said.
There was no laughter from him. No fear. Barely even an acknowledgement that he heard my words. The Warden only walked at a steady pace upwards, his hand loose at his side. As cool salt air began to filter inwards, clearing the smokey haze that was the innermost parts of the tunnels, he cleared his throat.
“Gabriel,” he said. “And I look forward to seeing you try.”
And just like that, the tunnels ended, and we emerged onto a cliffside, wet with the crashing waves beneath. The night sky hung heavy overhead and as I sucked in my first breath of fresh air, I felt a moment of steady relief. The walls that had clung to me with a cloying sense of silence were gone.
Yet, dread took its place only a moment later as I looked down, seeing what my fate had in store.
“Come along,” the Warden said, giving me no time to adjust. And just like that, the world around me became solid, and my heart felt like a leaded weight, barely beating in my chest.
[[Chapter One|Chapter One Flesh Pits]]I stared steadily at his back. He wasn’t even bothering to turn around. And why would he, with his magic crackling against my skin. I had nowhere to go that wasn’t of his choosing.
“I’d like to know the name of the man responsible for my fate.” Who was this man that had deemed me unworthy in this life for simply disagreeing with him.
The Warden showed little acknowledgment that he had even heard me. He walked at a steady pace upwards, his hand loose at his side. As cool salt air began to filter inwards, clearing the smokey haze that was the innermost parts of the tunnels, he cleared his throat.
“Gabriel,” he said. “And you are the one responsible for your own fate. Not I.”
Upon his words, the tunnels ended and we emerged onto a cliffside, wet with the crashing waves beneath. The night sky hung heavy overhead and as I sucked in my first breath of fresh air, I felt a moment of steady relief. The walls that had clung to me with a cloying sense of silence were gone.
Yet, dread took its place only a moment later as I looked down, seeing what my fate had in store.
“Come along,” the Warden said, giving me no time to adjust. And just like that, the world around me became solid, and my heart felt like a leaded weight, barely beating in my chest.
[[Chapter One|Chapter One Flesh Pits]]I stared steadily at his back. He didn’t bother to turn around. And why would he, with his magic crackling against my skin. I had nowhere to go that wasn’t of his choosing.
“After everything that just happened, after what is about to come, don’t you think I am owed at least that much?” It felt like a desperate grab for control. Nothing else was within my reach. But perhaps this one little thing could be given.
The Warden showed little acknowledgment that he had even heard me. He walked at a steady pace upwards, his hand loose at his side. As cool salt air began to filter inwards, clearing the smokey haze that was the innermost parts of the tunnels, he cleared his throat.
“Gabriel,” he said. “And while it is too late for the sentiment, I would still impart one piece of advice to you.” Stopping, he turned to look at me. “The world owes you nothing.”
And just like that, the tunnels ended, and we emerged onto a cliffside, wet with the crashing waves beneath. The night sky hung heavy overhead and as I sucked in my first breath of fresh air, I felt a moment of steady relief. The walls that had clung to me with a cloying sense of silence were gone.
Yet, dread took its place only a moment later as I looked down, seeing what my fate had in store.
“Come along,” the Warden said, giving me no time to adjust. And just like that, the world around me became solid, and my heart felt like a leaded weight, barely beating in my chest.
[[Chapter One|Chapter One Flesh Pits]]I stared steadily at his back. He didn’t even bother to turn around while addressing me. And why would he, with his magic crackling against my skin. I had nowhere to go that wasn’t of his choosing.
“Maybe if you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine,” I said with a thin smile. I heard a small laugh from him. No more than an amused huff escaping his lips.
“Isn’t it a little too late for that?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Probably. Though it doesn’t have to be this way.”
My words hung heavy between us, my wrists still stinging. Part of me wondered if he even could be changed. If there was a certain set of words that would make him reconsider. If we could just go back to that office of his and fill out his arbitrary paper work.
It was doubtful, but I entertained the hope of it briefly.
“Gabriel,” he said after a moment. “My name is Gabriel. And whether you give me a name or not will not change your fate. But, I somehow do appreciate the effort.”
Nothing had changed. I still did not have a name to give him, but I very nearly spoke one. It hovered at the tip of my tongue. But just like that, the tunnels ended, and we emerged onto a cliffside, wet with the crashing waves beneath. The night sky hung heavy overhead and as I sucked in my first breath of fresh air, I felt a moment of steady relief. The walls that had clung to me with a cloying sense of silence were gone.
Yet, dread took its place only a moment later as I looked down, seeing what my fate had in store.
“Come along,” the Warden said, giving me no time to adjust. And just like that, the world around me became solid, and my heart felt like a leaded weight, barely beating in my chest.
[[Chapter One|Chapter One Flesh Pits]]“I am telling you the truth. I don’t know who I am. I have no memories prior to your guards picking me up on the street. If I could give you a name.” I didn’t know how else to get it through to this man that I didn’t remember anything. There was a growing amount of frustration on both our ends from it and while I wanted to be able to answer him, I didn’t know what the repercussions would be if I tried to lie.
“You expect me to believe you do not know your own name and yet you converse with me perfectly fine?”
“I am not sure what one has to do with the other,” I pointed out to him. His answering expression was tight and non too amused.
“Your story is rather convenient. Are you truly not going to give me your name?” I stared back at him, unsure what I was even supposed to say.
With a put out sigh, he snapped his book shut. For a moment, I thought I saw his grey eyes flash silver. There was something different about them that made me wish to recoil while simultaneously falling into a form of supplication and bowing for his respect. The odd feeling was gone as soon as it came.
“If you do not wish to cooperate, I will not make you,” he said pragmatically. “However, I do have to tell you that if you do not start cooperating, I will be forced to escort you to the flesh pits.”
My stomach rolled at the title. “Flesh pits?”
“Oh, yes,” he said sagely. I could see his nostrils flaring with a barely concealed temper though. “I do believe that you are not from around here. You, prisoner 47B, are now a ward of the Night Market. What that means is that you have been taken in for due processing and based on our conversation here, a price for your bail will be set. Now normally, after the price has been set, we put you on the bail block where people can bid for your debt. Once bought, you will work it off in their company before you are released back into the world once more, a reformed citizen without a debt hanging over your head. If then, you choose to go home, that is fine by us. But we do wish to have compensation for the trouble you have caused us first.”
He allowed a moment for that to sink in, staring at me silently as he watched the horror cross my eyes.
“But,” he continued. “Since you are refusing to cooperate, it does show me that you will be trouble for whoever buys your debt. That is not something that we like here. In situations like this it is easier to put you within the flesh pits where you will be sold off for body parts.” He looked me up and down, as if appraising an item rather than a living, breathing individual. “You could probably fetch us a decent price.”
[[Respond in anger]]
[[Respond in horror]]
[[Lie and make up a name|Name]]“Shouldn’t we be discussing why I’m here? I don’t even know why I have been arrested or what I have done wrong.”
“Your curiosities are not what is important to me at the moment,” he responded.
“It is not a curiosity,” I protested. “It is a right. I should be able to know what it is I have done to deserve being here. I don’t know who I am, I have no memory of what has led me to this prison. I can’t answer any of your questions without you answering some of mine.”
“You expect me to believe you do not know your own name and yet you converse with me perfectly fine?”
“I am not sure what one has to do with the other,” I pointed out to him. His answering expression was tight and non too amused.
“Your story is rather convenient. Are you truly not going to give me your name?” I stared back at him, unsure what I was even supposed to say.
With a put out sigh, he snapped his book shut. For a moment, I thought I saw his grey eyes flash silver. There was something different about them that made me wish to recoil while simultaneously falling into a form of supplication and bowing for his respect. The odd feeling was gone as soon as it came.
“If you do not wish to cooperate, I will not make you,” he said pragmatically. “However, I do have to tell you that if you do not start cooperating, I will be forced to escort you to the flesh pits.”
My stomach rolled at the title. “Flesh pits?”
“Oh, yes,” he said sagely. I could see his nostrils flaring with a barely concealed temper though. “I do believe that you are not from around here. You, prisoner 47B, are now a ward of the Night Market. What that means is that you have been taken in for due processing and based on our conversation here, a price for your bail will be set. Now normally, after the price has been set, we put you on the bail block where people can bid for your debt. Once bought, you will work it off in their company before you are released back into the world once more, a reformed citizen without a debt hanging over your head. If then, you choose to go home, that is fine by us. But we do wish to have compensation for the trouble you have caused us first.”
He allowed a moment for that to sink in, staring at me silently as he watched the horror cross my eyes.
“But,” he continued. “Since you are refusing to cooperate, it does show me that you will be trouble for whoever buys your debt. That is not something that we like here. In situations like this it is easier to put you within the flesh pits where you will be sold off for body parts.” He looked me up and down, as if appraising an item rather than a living, breathing individual. “You could probably fetch us a decent price.”
[[Respond in anger]]
[[Respond in horror]]
[[Lie and make up a name|Name]]<<set $perception to "0">>
<<set $nameself to "false">>
<<set $gabrielro to "false">>
<<set $miloro to "false">>
<<set $belladonnaro to "false">>
<<set $hazelro to "false">>
<<set $asexual to "false">>
<<set $gbpoly to "false">>
<<set $asexual to "false">>
<<set $dailyattire to "false">>
<<set $sleepwithmilo to "false">>
<<set $sleepwithhazel to "false">>
<<set $sleepwithbelladonna to "false">>
<<set $sleepwithgabriel to "false">>
<<set $cuffs to "false">>
<<set $blackbands to "false">>
<<set $inthepits to "false">>
<<set $gabrielname to "false">>
<<set $pits to "false">>
<<set $fleshpits to "false">>
<<set $tentacleman to "false">>
<<set $ever to "false">>
<<set $key to "false">>
<<set $workforhazel to "false">>
<<set $workforgabriel to "false">>
<<set $bloodmoney to "false">>
<<set $mcbreakslock to "false">>
<<set $milobreakslock to "false">>
<<set $hazelsavesmc to "false">>
<<set $cagemilo to "false">>
<<set $workforhazel to "true">>
<<set $milomeet to "false">>
<<set $malcolmdead to "false">>
<<set $rainkiss to "false">>
<<set $milodance to "false">>
<<set $malcolmdeath to "false">>
<<set $celestial to "false">>
<<set $relationship to "false">>
<<set $platonic to "false">>
<<set $bellavamp to "false">>
<<set $celestial to "false">>
<<set $climb to "unknown">>
<<set $shot to "unknown">>
<<set $freethedonkeys to "false">>
<<set $miloring to "false">>
<<set $deepwounds to "false">>
<<set $miloring to "false">>
<<set $milosex to "false">>
<<set $hazelsex to "false">>
<<set $gabrielsex to "false">>
<<set $belladonnasex to "false">>
<<set $calibanmad to "false">>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "false">>
<<set $intervention to "false">>
<<set $bite to "false">>
<<set $selkies to "false">>
<<set $askmilo to "false">>From our vantage point, I saw a hulking beast lumbering across the sand below. Each step he took impounded deep crater-like dips into the ground which quickly filled with water, leaving small tide pools in his wake. Near him, a small creature stood, humanoid in stature but with nine tails swishing along its backside. I drank in the sights around me, caught up for a moment in the vast differences between the individuals roaming the beach. Forgetting, at least momentarily, that I was soon to be a part of their cells.
“What kind of world is this?” I asked, staring at one particular creature with long curling horns and shimmering green scales. They looked like they were far more interested in what was being washed ashore than who was being contained in the cages at their side.
The Warden didn’t look over his shoulder. “The Night Market welcomes all life forms, if that is what you are referring to.”
There was a loud clatter as one of the cages, perched precariously on top of several others, tumbled into the ocean. It had thankfully been empty, but it was enough to inject a small dose of reality into what I was seeing. “And the pens?” I presumed they were the ones I was currently being escorted to.
“Simple containment vessels.”
The way he said it denoted very clearly that not only was this a normal sight for him, but he saw nothing wrong with this kind of event.
[[What is the best way to get through this?]]
[[Is there no other way to pay off debt?]]
[[Does all crime have the same value?]]
From our vantage point, I saw a hulking beast lumbering across the sand below. Each step he took impounded deep crater-like dips into the ground which quickly filled with water, leaving small tide pools in his wake. Near him, a small creature stood, humanoid in stature but with nine tails swishing along its backside. They, along with many others, eyed the occupants of each cage hungrily, viewing them far more like a commodity than any sort of living, breathing individual.
“What kind of world is this?” I asked, staring at one particular creature with long curling horns and shimmering green scales.
The warden, Gabriel, didn’t even look over his shoulder. “The Night Market welcomes all life forms, if that is what you are referring to.”
There was a loud clatter as one of the cages, perched precariously on top of several others, tumbled into the ocean. Thankfully, it had been empty. “I was more referring to the idea of you buying and selling lifeforms, actually.”
“We are not in the business of buying and selling. This system is designed for simple debt repayment. Nothing more.”
“And cages are necessary for this process?”
“They are not cages,” he said, sounding the slightest bit irritated. “They are containment vessels.”
I didn’t know if that was a safer word for what was clearly happening here or if the man needed the delusion to continue his day. “Just because you dress the word up prettier doesn’t make the situation any better.”
Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer.
[[What is the best way to get through this?]]
[[Is there no other way to pay off debt?]]
[[Does all crime have the same value?]]
From our vantage point, I saw a hulking beast lumbering across the sand below. Each step he took impounded deep crater-like dips into the ground which quickly filled with water, leaving small tide pools in his wake. Near him, a small creature stood, humanoid in stature but with nine tails swishing along its backside. Fear began creeping along my spine the more I looked around. No one seemed bothered by what was before us. Other than a few occupants in the cage, no one even seemed to care.
“What kind of world is this?” I asked, staring at one particular creature with long curling horns and shimmering green scales. While I had no idea of the world I had come from, the one I was stepping into felt unexpectedly terrifying.
The Warden didn’t even look over his shoulder when answering my question. “The Night Market welcomes all life forms, if that is what you are referring to.”
There was a loud clatter as one of the cages, perched precariously on top of several others, tumbled into the ocean. Thankfully, it had been empty. “I’m afraid I don’t quite believe what I’m seeing,” I whispered.
There was a small and bitter laugh that escaped the man before me. “I say that to myself at least once a day.”
[[What is the best way to get through this?]]
[[Is there no other way to pay off debt?]]
[[Does all crime have the same value?]]
This was a nightmare that could not be shaken. As I struggled to keep up with the long strides of the Warden, I kept expecting for the world around me to wash away in a dream. The closer we got to the sandy shores, however, the more it was becoming clear that while I may not understand what was going on, the world was not about to provide shelter for me. If I wanted to make it out of this, I would need to stay alert.
“Is there anything I’m supposed to be doing?” I called after Gabriel. His shoulders tensed, as if he had almost forgotten I was there. Maybe he wasn’t used to his prisoners speaking as much while he escorted him. That, and he seemed as if he were a man of few words.
“There are plenty of individuals within the market looking for reliable help. Hold the intention to be useful and you will have no problems finding someone to buy off your debt.
“Intention? That is all you have for me?”
His eyes flickered to mine. “You have wound up within these cells due to breaking the social contract throughout the market. What more do you wish for me to give you?”
<<if $introemotion == "angry">>”No, wouldn’t want you to help me out in this entirely unjustified situation,” I bit out at him. “Nevermind that it is clear the only thing I have done wrong is not remember why I’m here to begin with.”
“You should perhaps work on that. Along with controlling your anger a bit more. Your mouth will get you into trouble with the wrong sort.”
[[Maybe everyone needs to get a bit angrier]]
[[Do you get off on seeing people in cuffs?]]
[[I’ll take that into advisement]]
<<elseif $introemotion == "fear">>I was looking for something to provide comfort. Anything to make the unknown that was settling before me a not as terrifying as it seemed. I didn’t know why I looked towards this man for answers, however. He saw very little wrong with the fate he was escorting me towards.
Suddenly, he stopped, turning to face me. “I am not blind to your fear,” he told me with a surprising amount of softness. “And perhaps you have just wound up in a bad situation without meaning to. However, there is nothing I can do now. Those pens are what will be awaiting you. If you are looking for something to make this experience better my only suggestion would be to try and make yourself look useful to the ones that seem kind and give nothing to the ones you fear.”
“And if I fear them all?” I asked.
He sighed but said nothing.
[[Continue|Stay quiet and follow]]
<<elseif $introemotion == "confused">>”I am just trying to understand,” I told him. Whoever this Warden was merely thought my lack of memories a ruse. Or at the very least, a cover up for something far greater.
“As of now, it is not your job to understand. Instead, it is your job to provide whatever service you are being hired to do.”
[[Right. No speaking]]
[[But I’m not being hired]]
[[Do you get off on seeing people in cuffs?]]<</if>>
I followed him as best I could, wracking my brain for some way out of the inevitability of him walking me right into one of those cages. Several empty ones loomed within my periphery and I had the sinking sensation that one of them was to belong to me.
“Is there no other way to pay off debt?” I asked. This could not be the only system set in place. It seemed far too grand to be a staple within their society. I truly hoped the bonfires that lit the beach were not lit day in and day out.
“Why would we provide another way when this is effective?” he asked. “A crime is committed. A price is set and instead of clogging our jails with individual’s for an arbitrary amount of days, we teach them how to become a productive member within society.”
<<if $introemotion == "angry">>”You are not teaching anyone to become anything. You are taking people off the streets, interrogating them, and then selling them to the highest bidder. Are you really so delusional to think that everyone down there has good intentions?”
“If they do not I am going to assume that I will be escorting them to the bail block one day. This is a system that has yet to be thwarted.”
“Your logic is flawed and instead of helping people, you are harming innocents just because you don’t want to put in the extra work of actually investigating their so-called crimes.” Whatever he had put down in that ledger of his, whatever the reason was for my arrest, had not even been called into question. I had been guilty from the moment his guards had laid eyes on me.
“You should perhaps work on controlling your anger. Your mouth will get you into trouble with the wrong sort.”
[[Maybe everyone needs to get a bit angrier]]
[[Do you get off on seeing people in cuffs?]]
[[I’ll take that into advisement]]
<<elseif $introemotion == "fear">> Whatever was happening here felt far from that. The sound of the cages rattling in the wind was an eerie backdrop to what I was being escorted towards. It left me feeling helpless. Soon to become the caged animal they were deeming me to be. I swallowed thickly, trying to quell the knot in my stomach, but felt it instead settle against me like a lead weight.
Suddenly, he stopped, turning to face me. “I am not blind to your fear,” he told me with a surprising amount of softness. “And perhaps you have just wound up in a bad situation without meaning to. However, there is nothing I can do now. Those pens are what will be awaiting you. If you are looking for something to make this experience better my only suggestion would be to try and make yourself look useful to the ones that seem kind and give nothing to the ones you fear.”
“And if I fear them all?” I asked.
He sighed but said nothing.
[[Continue|Stay quiet and follow]]
<<elseif $introemotion == "confused">>”I am just trying to understand,” I told him. Whoever this Warden was merely thought my lack of memories a ruse. Or at the very least, a cover up for something far greater.
“As of now, it is not your job to understand. Instead, it is your job to provide whatever service you are being hired to do.”
[[Right. No speaking]]
[[But I’m not being hired]]
[[Do you get off on seeing people in cuffs?]]<</if>>
I followed him as best I could, wracking my brain for some way out of the inevitability of him walking me right into one of those cages. Several empty ones loomed within my periphery and I had the sinking sensation that one of them was to belong to me.
“Do all crimes have the same value?” I asked. Everyone seemed to be lumped together on the beach with no real indication of ones incarceration being worse than the other.
“Of course not. One crime does not hold the weight of another. That is why we decide a price. The higher priced debt is a clear indication of what you have done to wind up here. It also provides the buyer with a longer term employee.”
<<if $introemotion == "angry">> “So the more dangerous individuals are within someones service for longer? Who would even buy a debt like that?”
“You would be surprised.”
“No, what surprises me is that you will put murderers on the same scale as someone like me who merely entered your market confused. You see the flaw in that, right?”
He didn’t answer. From the look on his face he was barely even listening to me. “Your anger and quick tongue may be something you should consider curbing while prospective buyers come to observe your debt.”
[[From what I can see, not enough people are getting angry|Maybe everyone needs to get a bit angrier]]
[[Do you get off on seeing people in cuffs?]]
[[I’ll take that into advisement]]
<<elseif $introemotion == "fear">> The sound of the cages rattling in the wind was an eerie backdrop to what I was being escorted towards. It left me feeling helpless. Soon to become the caged animal they were deeming me to be. I swallowed thickly, trying to quell the knot in my stomach, but felt it instead settle against me like a lead weight.Suddenly, he stopped, turning to face me. “I am not blind to your fear,” he told me with a surprising amount of softness. “And perhaps you have just wound up in a bad situation without meaning to. However, there is nothing I can do now. Those pens are what will be awaiting you. If you are looking for something to make this experience better my only suggestion would be to try and make yourself look useful to the ones that seem kind and give nothing to the ones you fear.”
“And if I fear them all?” I asked.
He sighed but said nothing.
[[Continue|Stay quiet and follow]]
<<elseif $introemotion == "confused">>”What happens if at the end of the day, your debt has not been bought?” I couldn’t imagine the ones with the higher price tag being snatched up quickly.
“They will be placed back within their cells and will go on a list for private bidding,” he said succinctly. Private bidding sounded far worse than whatever was taking place here. Though neither of the punishments felt as if they fit the crime. To be released back into the world after working off a heinous crime felt counterproductive to whatever edict this man obviously followed.
“I don’t understand,” I said with a shake of my head. “What if–”
“As of now, it is not your job to understand,” he said, cutting me off. “Instead, it is your job to provide whatever service you are being hired to do.” My mouth snapped shut.
[[Right. No speaking]]
[[But I’m not being hired]]
[[Do you get off on seeing people in cuffs?]]<</if>>
“Given what I am seeing, I think anger is the correct response. In fact, maybe everyone here needs to get a bit more angry than they are. Because all of this?” I gestured around me. To the toppling cages and the lit stage I could see further down the beach. The one that had prisoners on display for the audience to make bids upon. “This is wrong. I can’t be the only one who sees it either.”
“Anger often directs individuals to my door,” he said pointedly. “So, while you believe anger is warranted, I would think most are far more interested in living their lives as opposed to acquiring a debt that takes them from their families.”
“Are you even listening to yourself?” I couldn’t help but look at him with wide eyes. Families were being torn apart in the name of capitalism. Because that’s what it was. It was doubtful that the proceeds from today were injected in meaningful ways back into society. Meanwhile, others got cheap labor.
Perhaps I was being cynical, but the man before me certainly didn’t care about changing my mind.
The closer we got to the flat stretch of beach, the more I noticed the Warden sticking to my side. Unlike before, his hands began to hover, as if to grab me if I decided to bolt. The shore stank strongly of salt and fish, with the occasional waft of an expensive perfume meant to cover the stench of rot. No matter the amount of people before us, I noticed how they all parted respectfully for the Warden, sparing me with only a cursory glance. Even the ones who turned a sneer towards the man at my side, didn’t let their gazes linger for long. Whoever this man truly was, had gained more than his fair share of respect within the market. Or perhaps fear.
A man was being dragged from one of the nearby pens by two guards dressed in the red velvet uniform that I had seen earlier. The prisoner shouted at them in a language I did not recognize, attempting to buck one of the men with small nubs like horns. It allowed enough of a distraction that I didn’t hear the creak of the door as the Warden opened it.
“Perfect,” the Warden said. “Step inside please.”
[[Run]]
[[Step inside]]
I couldn’t help but look at this straight laced man with his uniform buttoned to perfection and his hair slicked back. I wanted to anger him. I wanted more than anything to shake the stonewall expression upon his face. “Do you just get off on seeing people in cuffs?” I asked. “This one big kink to you?”
Turning on his booted heel he stopped me in my tracks. He looked larger somehow, backlit by the moon and the roar of the ocean. “You are about to go up on a bail block for your crimes against the Night Market. I would suggest, if you want to make it out of there with a kind patron, not to run your tongue so thoroughly.”
I smirked at him. Apparently, my hunch had been correct. Commenting on policy was not going to rile him, but calling his own tendencies into question was going to get his jaw to clench rather nicely. “What’s wrong, warden? Making things hard for you?”
His eyes ticked down over my body, his face remaining expressionless. For a moment, I thought he would reach out. His hands twitched in such a way that I thought he was either going to pull me to him or push me over the cliff. But they remained stoically by his side, not even reaching for the sword at his belt.
“Please,” he said. “You’re not my type.” Turning, he continued on down the path. “I have a schedule to keep. Believe it or not, you are not the most important part of my day. Come along.”
The closer we got to the flat stretch of beach, the more I noticed the Warden sticking to my side. Unlike before, his hands began to hover, as if to grab me if I decided to bolt. The shore stank strongly of salt and fish, with the occasional waft of an expensive perfume meant to cover the stench of rot. No matter the amount of people before us, I noticed how they all parted respectfully for the Warden, sparing me with only a cursory glance. Even the ones who turned a sneer towards the man at my side, didn’t let their gazes linger for long. Whoever this man truly was, had gained more than his fair share of respect within the market. Or perhaps fear.
A man was being dragged from one of the nearby pens by two guards dressed in the red velvet uniform that I had seen earlier. The prisoner shouted at them in a language I did not recognize, attempting to buck one of the men with small nubs like horns. It allowed enough of a distraction that I didn’t hear the creak of the door as the Warden opened it.
“Perfect,” the Warden said. “Step inside please.”
[[Run]]
[[Step inside]]
“I’ll take that into advisement.” I cast my $eyecolor eyes downwards. At this point I was wondering if it was best to stay quiet all together. Anything I said or did within this city was bound to provide me with more trouble and far more confusion.
“It would be best if you did,” he said, seemingly pleased that I was finally cooperating. The notion did little for me, however. The entrance to the cave and the cells below was not that far behind me and yet I felt weary with the passage of time. There was a part of me, one that was nagging at the back of my mind, that kept wishing to fall into acceptance. As if I too simply agreed that this was how the world worked. As if the punishment I was receiving fit the crime.
“I know this seems confusing and a bit unsettling. However, I assure you, most of the bail block clients I deal with go on to lead perfectly normal lives. You are simply conducting a community service due to a misstep within society. Nothing more.”
It may have done more to put me at ease if the sound of the water lapping against the wooden slats of the cages, were not echoing across the wind.
The closer we got to the flat stretch of beach, the more I noticed the Warden sticking to my side. Unlike before, his hands began to hover, as if to grab me if I decided to bolt. The shore stank strongly of salt and fish, with the occasional waft of an expensive perfume meant to cover the stench of rot. No matter the amount of people before us, I noticed how they all parted respectfully for the Warden, sparing me with only a cursory glance. Even the ones who turned a sneer towards the man at my side, didn’t let their gazes linger for long. Whoever this man truly was, had gained more than his fair share of respect within the market. Or perhaps fear.
A man was being dragged from one of the nearby pens by two guards dressed in the red velvet uniform that I had seen earlier. The prisoner shouted at them in a language I did not recognize, attempting to buck one of the men with small nubs like horns. It allowed enough of a distraction that I didn’t hear the creak of the door as the Warden opened it.
“Perfect,” the Warden said. “Step inside please.”
[[Run]]
[[Step inside]]
My voice failed me. The feeling of defeat was beginning to settle across me and I couldn’t tell if I was slowly falling into a state of shock or if I was accepting what was before me as if it was all my own desire.
I heard a huff of breath from in front of me as two booted feet came into view. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. My apologies.”
I nodded my head once, but still didn’t look up. When a gloved hand came down on my shoulder, I nearly jumped. Gabriel was ducking his head low, his voice pitched downward, despite the fact that there was no one else around to hear us.
“I know this seems confusing and a bit unsettling. However, I assure you, most of the bail block clients I deal with go on to lead perfectly normal lives. You are simply conducting a community service due to a misstep within society. Nothing more.”
It may have done more to put me at ease if the sound of the water lapping against the wooden slats of the cages, were not echoing across the wind.
Gabriel’s hand fell away as he looked towards where my eyes had wandered. Squaring his shoulders, he began to walk forward again without a word, expecting me to follow.
The closer we got to the flat stretch of beach, the more I noticed the Warden sticking to my side. Unlike before, his hands began to hover, as if to grab me if I decided to bolt. The shore stank strongly of salt and fish, with the occasional waft of an expensive perfume meant to cover the stench of rot. No matter the amount of people before us, I noticed how they all parted respectfully for the Warden, sparing me with only a cursory glance. Even the ones who turned a sneer towards the man at my side, didn’t let their gazes linger for long. Whoever this man truly was, had gained more than his fair share of respect within the market. Or perhaps fear.
A man was being dragged from one of the nearby pens by two guards dressed in the red velvet uniform that I had seen earlier. The prisoner shouted at them in a language I did not recognize, attempting to buck one of the men with small nubs like horns. It allowed enough of a distraction that I didn’t hear the creak of the door as the Warden opened it.
“Perfect,” the Warden said. “Step inside please.”
[[Run]]
[[Step inside]]
I quirked a brow towards him. “So subservience is what you aim for within your society?”
There was something there, something I couldn’t quite place. Like he wanted to say yes but couldn’t figure out how without it sounding like the terrible thing it actually was. Instead, he settled on his mask of disinterest again. “Do what you want. My job is simply to get you to the bail block so you don’t occupy the cells any further. Now, if you don’t mind, I would very much like to do that.”
“What?” I laughed, only the slightest tremor of the unknown in my voice. “You have a schedule to keep?”
He looked tiredly out at the throng of people that milled below. I could see his hand twitch towards his pocket, as if to reach for something, but thought better of it in the end. “The process itself should go fairly quick. The auction is already underway. I will come and check on you in a few days. Make sure you are acclimating and that your employer has no issues with you.”
The closer we got to the flat stretch of beach, the more I noticed the Warden sticking to my side. Unlike before, his hands began to hover, as if to grab me if I decided to bolt. The shore stank strongly of salt and fish, with the occasional waft of an expensive perfume meant to cover the stench of rot. No matter the amount of people before us, I noticed how they all parted respectfully for the Warden, sparing me with only a cursory glance. Even the ones who turned a sneer towards the man at my side, didn’t let their gazes linger for long. Whoever this man truly was, had gained more than his fair share of respect within the market. Or perhaps fear.
A man was being dragged from one of the nearby pens by two guards dressed in the red velvet uniform that I had seen earlier. The prisoner shouted at them in a language I did not recognize, attempting to buck one of the men with small nubs like horns. It allowed enough of a distraction that I didn’t hear the creak of the door as the Warden opened it.
“Perfect,” the Warden said. “Step inside please.”
[[Run]]
[[Step inside]]
“I’m not being hired,” I told him. “This is forced.”
There was no change in his expression. “Your service was a choice,” he said firmly. “You made a choice that led you to my precinct and in doing so, will now be fulfilling the obligations your choice has brought forth.”
“But I can’t make a choice not to do that.”
“You could,” he said. “It just would have ended with you in a much different area on this beach. Believe me, you made the correct one. If there are other areas of employment that you will have to neglect due to this choice, I apologize for the inconvenience.”
Frustration rolled within me. This man had a narrative and it felt as if it didn’t matter what I said or how I challenged him. He just needed to get me to the pens. “I am not from here,” I said once again.
“Then, this really does work well in your favor.” He looked tiredly out at the throng of people that milled below. I could see his hand twitch towards his pocket, as if to reach for something, but thought better of it in the end. “The process itself should go fairly quick. The auction is already underway. I will come and check on you in a few days. Make sure you are acclimating and that your employer has no issues with you.”
The closer we got to the flat stretch of beach, the more I noticed the Warden sticking to my side. Unlike before, his hands began to hover, as if to grab me if I decided to bolt. The shore stank strongly of salt and fish, with the occasional waft of an expensive perfume meant to cover the stench of rot. No matter the amount of people before us, I noticed how they all parted respectfully for the Warden, sparing me with only a cursory glance. Even the ones who turned a sneer towards the man at my side, didn’t let their gazes linger for long. Whoever this man truly was, had gained more than his fair share of respect within the market. Or perhaps fear.
A man was being dragged from one of the nearby pens by two guards dressed in the red velvet uniform that I had seen earlier. The prisoner shouted at them in a language I did not recognize, attempting to buck one of the men with small nubs like horns. It allowed enough of a distraction that I didn’t hear the creak of the door as the Warden opened it.
“Perfect,” the Warden said. “Step inside please.”
[[Run]]
[[Step inside]]
<<set $perception ++>>I tried to run. As the Warden gestured for me to step inside, my instincts took over and I bolted towards the crowd with little idea of where I was going. Only that I was not going to go in that cage without a fight. A strong pair of gloved hands wrapped around me though, grabbing me in a rough grip, yanking me backwards.
The Warden only looked at me with vague indifference as he dragged me back to the cell with little thought to the fight I was giving, before tossing me unceremoniously inside.
Closing the door behind me, he turned a small wooden cog lock. The click felt like a bolt driving right through me as freedom was locked away. “Your service to the Night Market will be set at one month. If you complete your contract during that time, you will be free to go wherever it is you wish.”
“You can’t do this to me,” I protested.
He was walking away before I had even finished my sentence. “Good luck. May you learn your lesson and become a productive member of our society.”
Wooden slatted bars blocked a clear line of sight to the nighttime shoppers. I watched as they milled about, talking and laughing, ignoring the spectacles within the cages for the most part. I wondered if the blue-eyed man was down here somewhere, watching my fate. Or if he had forgotten about me the second his friend had bailed him out of his cell.
I looked around in a half-hearted attempt to find him. I couldn’t just sit here. As the night breeze blew in from the dark and endless waters at my back, my brain began to spin in every direction. A small but nagging part kept asking me to accept my fate and simply wait. But then there was another part that screamed to fight.
To try.
To not give up.
I couldn’t just curl up in the corner of this cell and wait for this misguided world to decide what they should do with me. I was a fighter. Or at least I hoped I was one. The sickening reminder of how little my mind felt my own clung starkly to my thoughts.
Shaking my head, I walked towards the bars, curling my fingers around them. They felt smooth with the passage of water but there was steel beneath the driftwood slats. Magic perhaps. Or a special design. There was no way to simply break them, though.
The longer I waited, the more it became clear that I really only had two options going forward. I could either try and break out myself, calling upon skills that I may or may not have had. Or, I could vet a buyer for myself, ensuring that whoever posted my bail was someone that could possibly guide me through whatever mess the Night Market actually was.
[[I wasn't going to wait for someone to save me. I would save myself|Break out]]
[[I needed to find someone to help me|Seek out a buyer]]
[[I was going to listen to The Warden and wait and see who showed interest in me]]
I blinked at him. “Just like that?”
“It is dry and clean and saves us the long walk of finding you another pen.” He made to guide me in, his gloved hand light on my elbow. I jerked away though and for reasons beyond any rational thought, walked inside.
Closing the door behind me, he turned a small wooden cog lock. The click felt like a bolt driving right through me as freedom was locked away. “Your service to the Night Market will be set at one month. If you complete your contract during that time, you will be free to go wherever it is you wish.”
“How long until people usually make bail?” I asked.
He was walking away before I had even finished my sentence. “Good luck. May you learn your lesson and become a productive member of our society.”
Wooden slatted bars blocked a clear line of sight to the nighttime shoppers. I watched as they milled about, talking and laughing, ignoring the spectacles within the cages for the most part. I wondered if the blue-eyed man was down here somewhere, watching my fate. Or if he had forgotten about me the second his friend had bailed him out of his cell.
I looked around in a half-hearted attempt to find him. I couldn’t just sit here. As the night breeze blew in from the dark and endless waters at my back, my brain began to spin in every direction. A small but nagging part kept asking me to accept my fate and simply wait. But then there was another part that screamed to fight.
To try.
To not give up.
I couldn’t just curl up in the corner of this cell and wait for this misguided world to decide what they should do with me. I was a fighter. Or at least I hoped I was one. The sickening reminder of how little my mind felt my own clung starkly to my thoughts.
Shaking my head, I walked towards the bars, curling my fingers around them. They felt smooth with the passage of water but there was steel beneath the driftwood slats. Magic perhaps. Or a special design. There was no way to simply break them, though.
The longer I waited, the more it became clear that I really only had two options going forward. I could either try and break out myself, calling upon skills that I may or may not have had. Or, I could vet a buyer for myself, ensuring that whoever posted my bail was someone that could possibly guide me through whatever mess the Night Market actually was.
[[I wasn't going to wait for someone to save me. I would save myself|Break out]]
[[I needed to find someone to help me|Seek out a buyer]]
[[I was going to listen to The Warden and wait and see who showed interest in me]]
The likelihood that I was being watched felt low. From what I had observed, once tossed in a cage, you were forgotten until someone meandered by, perusing what was being offered. When I had first been escorted to the cage, I had seen a group of people, looking through the slats at a few individuals down the way. My cell was at the beginning of a long line of cages and it didn’t look as if many were doubling back. If I wanted to take a chance, now was going to be the time.
Reaching around, I felt the lock that the Warden had clicked shut. It felt odd beneath my fingers. Round and wooden and held together by what felt like toothpicks. With a curiousary tug, it did not budge. Like the structure of the cage itself, it was far stronger than what it seemed.
The outer shell of it was smooth and upon further exploration, I could feel three smaller rings encased inside the large round one, each one woven together in some sort of gear and cog fashion. If I could just figure out how it all clicked together I was almost certain I could slide the plate faces in just the right way to pop the door free. From there, I could run. It didn’t strike me as the best idea but as guards moved down the line, dragging prisoners to the auction block up ahead, I didn’t have the luxury to sit and think anything through.
Leaning heavily against the door as if in defeat, I tried to make myself look as small as possible. All the while my fingers ran over the cog faces in a coaxing manner.
“Bold.”
I jumped, stumbling away from the cage door and directing wide eyed towards the unfamiliar voice.
A sandy haired man with curling locks stood before me, his shirt open comically wide with suspenders up over his shoulders in wide strips of brown leather. His skin was freckled and ruddy while his eyes were a warm amber. He had a smiling set of lips that was quirked in perpetual amusement.
“Breaking out while dozens of people mill about. Not to mention the set of plain clothed guards that are watching you as we speak.” He barely ticked his gaze towards the set of dilapidated buildings across the beach. Men and women who I had thought were nothing more than patrons of whatever those establishments were, had their eyes on me.
“Didn’t notice them, did you?” The man hissed through his teeth sympathetically, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Well, what are you going to do now? Because you are faced with a bit of a choice here. Either, you stop, and they begin to stand down and you take your chances on the auction block. Or, you continue and see who has the quicker hand. You or the sharpshooters.”
I eyed the man questionably. “They have sharpshooters.”
“Sugar, this is the Night Market. They have everything.” He kicked at the sand, his shined boots coated with a fine layer of the salty grain. “So, what’s it going to be?”
[[Can you help me?]]
[[Are you a guard?]]
[[(Action) Back away from the door]]It would have been so easy to sit back and wait. To fall into the trap of what the Warden wished from me, sitting silent a docile while someone came to determine my worth. But I didn’t wish to leave my chances up to fate. While I couldn’t change the fact that I was sitting within a cage, I could perhaps control a bit more who got me out of here. Wrapping my fingers around the bars, I stared out at the crowd, trying to keep my face from being too eager. My stomach rolled at what I saw. Souls of varying degrees wandered through the beach with large pouches. All ready to purchase someone as if it were another check off of their to do list.
A group of large horned creatures lingered near a cluster of cages, jeering at the small and cowering forms inside. While another group sat, lounging on plush velvet chairs circling a large fire, goblets of wine in their hands. They swirled them, their pale faces looking ghoulish behind the flickering blue flames. Women with large parasols made of questionable material and lined with silk, laughed behind delicately turned hands while a few men curled up close to their side. They held out their palms expectantly as coin was dropped into them with a small plink before they scampered off. One rushed by a man with sandy brown hair and a wide open shirt. He was drinking uproariously with a crowd of people, but I noticed how his eyes scanned the sea of creatures before him. Not the pens. But the people surrounding the pens.
He was a possible target if I could just get him closer. He looked dangerous with the amount of metal hanging from his person, but he looked far more concerned with the buyers than with what the cages held. I pressed the heel of my hand to my tired eyes. Briefly, I wondered if this was home. If before I had lost my memories to the night sky, if this was where I had belonged. I wondered if I was the kind of person who wandered the sands with a thick pouch and bought people within cages to help with menial tasks.
A headache was edging at the base of my spine and as I opened my eyes again, a clear determination settled over me to gain the attention of someone that could help me. Not just a buyer I could endure, but one who could actually help me find out what exactly had happened to me.
I startled at the sight of a very plain looking man standing before me. He had not been there before.
“Gooood eveninnnng.” He sang his words, his willowy body swaying back and forth. Somehow, he had grown taller as he peered through the bars, one hand reaching inwards as if to grab me. Long, suckered tentacles protruded from its fingertips. The light from the bonfire caught his face when he shifted and I watched as it flickered between soft and kind and stretched and shredded.
[[Back away]]
[[Try to talk to him]]
[[Be combative]]The world around me was an active stranger. It was filled with sights and sounds that I did not understand along with a system of legality that I knew I was struggling to navigate. I did not think myself deserving to be within these cages but now that I was here, I didn't know what else to do.
The only thing I could think of was to sit back and wait. Listen to the Warden's advice and hope that whoever showed interest in me had far more empathy than him.
A headache pounded behind my eyes and briefly, I shut them, trying to drown out the world and center myself for what was to come. I was trying to make the best of a bad situation and doubted that I was acheiving it.
I startled when I opened my eyes again. A plain looking man stood before me. He had not been there before.
“Gooood eveninnnng.” He sang his words, his willowy body swaying back and forth. Somehow, he had grown taller as he peered through the bars, one hand reaching inwards as if to grab me. Long, suckered tentacles protruded from its fingertips. The light from the bonfire caught his face when he shifted and I watched as it flickered between soft and kind and stretched and shredded.
[[Back away]]
[[Try to talk to him]]
[[Be combative]]“Can you help me get out of here?” I asked. My fingers were quite literally on the locks when he approached me. It wasn’t as if I could hide what I was doing.
“Are you asking?” There was an ever present sense of amusement that curled at the edge of his lips. While the Velvet Guards seemed to mill entirely too close for my comfort, this man seemed completely at ease.
“Yes,” I said.
Stepping up to the locked door, he tilted his head to the side. The light from a nearby torch danced across his face, highlighting the strong bridge of his nose and reflected something heated in the depths of his honeyed eyes.
He had a rakish smile and an easy gait to his walk. Well-defined arms peaked out from beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt while the chains around his neck dangled against an expanse of bare skin. There was something in the way he was looking at me though. A slight narrow to his eyes, as if he was waiting for me to say something.
“How’d you wind up here, darlin’?” he asked, eyes searching my form.
“Wrong place at the wrong time,” I explained. I didn’t wish to go into it with a stranger. Especially one that was stalling my chances to get out of here. “Please, I could really use your help.”
“No. Nonono. You, darlin’, are going to help yourself.” With one large step, he pressed himself up against the cage door, curling his fingers suggestively around the bars. “Break the lock.”
“What?”
“Break. The lock,” he repeated. “You can’t tell me you don’t know how to do something as simple as that.”
[[(Action) Break the lock]]
[[Can't you just do it?]]
[[On second thought, I think I'll take my chances with the bail block]]I eyed the man suspiciously. “Are you a guard?” The Warden’s clothes had been different than the rest of the ostentatious fellows that I could see milling about, their shoulders clad in velvet and their swords clanking loudly against their hips. It stood to reason that they had at least a few plain clothed individuals wandering the streets to keep things in order.
Although, the laugh that erupted from the man's throat said otherwise. It was full bodied and came deep from his belly as he tilted his head back and let out a bark of amusement that caught more than just a little attention.
Quickly, I backed away from the cage in case anyone saw my hand sneaking through the bars.
“Sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Sorry. I just… a guard?” He laughed again, holding his stomach and looking at me with abandon. “I’m gonna need you to suggest that to one of them. I just want to see their expressions when their tight laced service is compared to me.”
The firelight from a nearby torch played across his face, catching the wetness on his cheeks from his laughter and mirroring the heated expression playing in his honey brown eyes. When his laughter settled, he returned his curious gaze towards me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he thought I was just going to walk right out of the cage myself. Like this was some sort of ruse.
“How’d you wind up in here?” he asked, raising a brow. “Doesn’t seem to fit.”
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I told him. “Can you help me?”
“I’m almost certain you are powerful enough to help yourself,” he mused. With one large step, he pressed himself up against the cage door, curling his fingers suggestively around the bars. “Break the lock.”
“What?”
“Break. The lock,” he repeated. “You can’t tell me you don’t know how to do something as simple as that.”
[[(Action) Break the lock]]
[[Can't you just do it?]]
[[On second thought, I think I'll take my chances with the bail block]]I backed away from the door, shoving my hand behind me as if to hide my actions. He looked at me with a raised brow, his lips rolling into his mouth as he took a step towards the pen itself.
“Oh, interesting. Brave enough to try to break out of a cage, but timid enough to back down upon being caught.” Taking the cigarette from his mouth, he tucked it behind his ear, starting to circle the pen, as if to assess me. “Not what I expected.”
“Are you wanting to buy my bail?” I asked hesitantly.
His laugh was slightly bitter as he stopped in front of the cage door again. “No,” he said. “No, that is not my intention with you at all.” He tipped his head towards me, eyes narrowing a bit.
The light from a nearby torch danced across his face, highlighting the strong bridge of his nose and reflected something heated in the depths of his honeyed eyes. He had a rakish smile and an easy gait to his walk. Well-defined arms peaked out from beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt while the chains around his neck dangled against an expanse of bare skin. There was something in the way he was looking at me though. A slight narrow to his eyes, as if he was waiting for me to say something.
“How’d you wind up here, darlin’?” he asked, eyes searching my form.
“Wrong place at the wrong time,” I explained. I didn’t wish to go into it with a stranger. Especially one that was stalling my chances to get out of here. “Please, I could really use your help.”
“No. Nonono. You, darlin’, are going to help yourself.” With one large step, he pressed himself up against the cage door, curling his fingers suggestively around the bars. “Break the lock.”
“What?”
“Break. The lock,” he repeated. “You can’t tell me you don’t know how to do something as simple as that.”
[[(Action) Break the lock]]
[[Can't you just do it?]]
[[On second thought, I think I'll take my chances with the bail block]]There wasn’t time to spare. Taking one last look at him, I turned my attention back to the lock, running my fingers over the face of it. A low chuckle came from the man as he rounded towards the front of the cage, leaning against the bars with his hands tucked in his pocket. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, unlit and slightly soggy from the ocean air.
“It’s a three cog system, with the third cog actually being the first,” he said. He had positioned himself in such a way that onlookers would not be able to spy what my hands were doing. To the wandering eye, he looked like a patron inquiring about what types of services I could provide if he took my bail. “Don’t let it fool you. They are designed not to click, so you are going to have to feel the shift in tumblers to know that you’ve unlocked anything. Not the most sophisticated of systems once you know what you’re looking for.”
I tried to focus on what I was doing, my heart pounding in my ears as I followed his directions. “If its that easy, how come more people don’t break out?” I asked.
“Because the Velvet Guard and their messed up system is one that most people fearfully respect,” he said casually, though there was a bitterness beneath his words. “It’s amazing what someone will do just because the unknown is far more terrifying.”
I smoothed my thumb across the lock, following the cogs just like he said. I could feel the shift and more than once, knew I had lost it completely.
“Easy,” he muttered.
“You could help,” I pointed out.
“I could,” he said. “But, I feel like that would be disrespectful to what you and I both know you are.”
“And what is that?” I asked, feeling the second cog shift.
He looked at me over his shoulder, confused. When the third cog shifted just right, the lock snapped open. My hand froze, almost as if I were expecting the guards to begin flooding the beach. Slowly, I turned my eyes up towards the man.
“Well done,” he murmured.
“Now what?” I whispered.
The glee that filled him was palpable as he swung open the door for me, watching as it hit the side of the cage with an echoing clang. “Run.”
[[Follow him]]
[[Set out on your own]]
<<set $mcbreakslock to "true">>
<<set $perception ++>>When my fingers fumbled across the cogs again, I looked up at the man before me in frustration. “If you know how to do this, couldn’t you just get me out?”
“I could,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “But I’m kind of curious to see if you can do it yourself. Consider it a test of skills.”
“I don’t have time for a test of skills.” Desperation was seeping into my voice. I could see the guards removing people from the pens not even six cells down. The time I had to open my door was very little. “Look,” I dropped my hand. “What do I need to do to have you help me here?”
He shrugged. “I mean, you could just ask.”
There was a teasing lilt to his voice that said he obviously didn’t think this as serious as I did. But I wasn’t sure what my options were at the moment. Either, I could ask this man and hope that he would lead me to safety, or I could try to open the door on my own and hope that the guards didn’t get to me in time.
[[I ask him for help]]
[[I break the lock on my own]]I slumped against the wood slates. What was I even doing? Even if I could break the lock, where was I supposed to go? I could run blindly through the streets but there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t end exactly as it had before. Defeat began to sink into me with a bitter weight. Pushing back from the bars, I shook my head.
“I’ll wait for a buyer,” I told the man.
There was something about the way he was looking at me. Either he had expected more of a fight or he too was realizing just how close the guards were getting. With a muffled curse, he went up to the lock and began fiddling with it. I watched silently as he began twisting the cogs, saying something about shoddy craftsmanship.
“What?" he asked, catching the look I was giving him. "You expect me to just leave you in there? You and I both know I’d be a shitty person if I did that.” Not even four yards from us, a group of guards meandered. They looked towards the cage, their eyes catching on the man before me.
“Nice night, isn’t it Thomas? Glad to see you up and working. Man has to earn a paycheck in order to take care of all those venereal diseases.”
“The fuck did you say to me, Next?” The guard stepped forward and I felt myself stumble back, expecting the man to be thrown into the cage next to me.
“I said, man has to earn a paycheck in order to take care of all those veterinarian diseases. You have a dog, right? Little floppy eared thing with a limp?”
The man was the only person standing between me and that guard right now and while the guard's eyes were not on me, I could feel my heart hammering against my chest. “Get away from the cages, Next,” the guard grunted.
“Will do after I decide if I’m buying. The Albright girl needs a new shophand.” His smile was warm, an unlit cigarette hanging between chapped lips, while his hands were placed nonchalantly in his pocket. I’m not sure what the guard saw, or if he really just didn’t care, but he ended up moving on after looking at the man one final time. He waved towards the guard, bidding him adieu with a little flourish.
“Asshole,” he muttered, turning back to me. “Let’s get you out of here, yeah?”
I swallowed. “Yeah.”
Pressing himself against the cage, his hands began working over the lock. “Eyes on me. Ignore whatever else is going on around us,” he said with an easy grin. “Why are you here, darlin’? This a joke of some sort?”
“A joke?” I asked. “I don’t even know where here is.” It gave him pause for some reason as he glanced up at me, his expression unreadable. But it was gone as quickly as it came. His fingers worked deftly on the strange lock while his dark eyes flicked occasionally towards me. To anyone passing by, it looked as if he was scrutinizing a potential purchase. They couldn’t see the way his fingers flashed over the cogs on the outer portion of my cage.
“You have a plan right? For getting me out of here?”
“Of course I have a plan,” he scoffed.
“Was insulting that guard part of your plan?” I asked. Distraction was usually the best bet in situations like this. Though I didn’t know how it was going to be much of a distraction given that the guard in question was seeming a bit more riled up as the moments went on and his buddies chuffed his shoulder in what looked like encouragement.
“No,” the man snorted. “That was just fun. Albeit, gives me a little less time to pick this lock but I like a challenge.” The cigarette hanging from his mouth was now damp, sticking to the inner lining of his lip as he furrowed his brows and concentrated on the tumblers before him. “How’d you get caught?”
[[I’m not sure I understand what it is I am being ‘caught’ for]]
[[I apparently have entered the market illegally]]
[[Feels like I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time]]
<<set $milobreakslock to "true">>I looked at him incredulously. “Can you please help me get out of here?”
He perked up. “Oh! I never thought you’d ask. Of course I can.” He began to dance around the cage, walking around it in skipping strides, hopping over sandy puddles that dipped down around the cracked plank flooring. Interested eyes began to turn towards us. While I was doing my best to not be noticed, the man before me looked to be doing the exact opposite.
“Slim pickings today, huh?” he called out to one of the more interested looking parties. They had been hovering for quite some time now. A woman and an individual with an elongated snout and dull set eyes, both looking into my cage and whispering behind turned hands. “I’m pretty certain this one has gout,” Milo said with a sigh. “Can’t find anything decent anymore. The Velvet Guard needs to step up their game.”
It was loud enough that one said guard turned towards the man with a scowl, a tankard halfway to his lips.
He smiled back at him as he waved at the man dressed in the crimson uniform. “Yes, I’m talking to you, good ser. Maybe put down the booze and find us some creatures worth our coin. No? Off duty, you say? I can see that. Enjoy doing a mediocre job in life.”
The guard in question put his tankard down while the two interested buyers moved on with a quick pace.
Turning back to me, the man with the amber eyes pressed himself close to the cage, his hands working in small flicks of the wrist that I could not see.
“Eyes on me. Ignore them,” he said with an easy grin. “Why are you here, darlin’? This a joke of some sort?”
“A joke?” I asked. “I don’t even know where here is.” It gave him pause for some reason as he glanced up at me, his expression unreadable. But it was gone as quickly as it came. His fingers worked deftly on the strange lock while his dark eyes flicked occasionally towards me. To anyone passing by, it looked as if he was scrutinizing a potential purchase. They couldn’t see the way his fingers flashed over the cogs on the outer portion of my cage.
“You have a plan right? For getting me out of here?”
“Of course I have a plan,” he scoffed.
“Was insulting that guard part of your plan?” I asked. Distraction was usually the best bet in situations like this. Though I didn’t know how it was going to be much of a distraction given that the guard in question was seeming a bit more riled up as the moments went on and his buddies chuffed his shoulder in what looked like encouragement.
“No,” the man snorted. “That was just fun. Albeit, gives me a little less time to pick this lock but I like a challenge.” The cigarette hanging from his mouth was now damp, sticking to the inner lining of his lip as he furrowed his brows and concentrated on the tumblers before him. “How’d you get caught?”
[[I’m not sure I understand what it is I am being ‘caught’ for]]
[[I apparently have entered the market illegally]]
[[Feels like I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time]]
<<set $milobreakslock to "true">>I didn’t need his help. There was no guarantee that the man that stood before me now had anything but ill intentions towards me. So far, he had only looked on with amusement while I was trapped on the other side of a cage. If I was going to get out of there, I was going to do it on my own.
Reaching around, I traced the lock, logging each groove and curve or metal in order to form a picture of what I was dealing with. There were three distinct cogs that acted as if they all connected together and I had a suspicion that if I could just…
The click echoed so loud in my own ears that I was certain it was heard all up and down the beach. There was a soft sinking sensation beneath my fingers as the cogs turned slowly, the pressure between the plates creating a tension within the air that wrapped around my neck like a noose. The air wavered with crackling static, popping in my ears as I smelled something burnt. And then there was nothing. A pressure that I didn't know was there lifted from my chest as a brief shimmer of something translucent hovered in the air before dissipating into a fine dust that mixed with the sand. Then, the door clicked open.
I looked up at the stranger, my eyes in shock. He stared back at me unsurprised, his smile wide and toothy.
“Now what?” I whispered.
The glee that filled him was palpable as he swung open the door for me, watching as it hit the side of the cage with an echoing clang. “Run.”
[[Follow him]]
[[Set out on your own]]
<<set $mcbreakslock to "true">>
<<$perception ++>>The sound of his belt jangled dully against the wood slates of the cage. A series of keys hung from his hip, connected to a large bronze key ring. The irony that he was breaking me out with all those keys at his fingertips, was not lost on me.
“I’m not sure I understand what it is I am being ‘caught’ for,” I told him.
“Must have done something.” The laughter that followed his own statement was bitter. “Scratch that, on bail block days you don’t need to do a damn thing. If the Guard is short on money, they’ll snatch anyone off the streets.”
“I don’t even know how I got onto the streets, though,” I tried to impress on him. There was a small part of me that was desperate for someone, //anyone// to just listen.
He paused, tipping his head up towards me. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly as it sounds. I have no memory of anything before getting dragged to the cells by this Velvet Guard.”
For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to believe me. Why would he? There was a certain apprehension filling his eyes that I thought was going to translate into him calling for the guards. Or at the very least, leaving me here. Instead, he nodded his head slowly. “Sounds like you might need a bit of guidance then.”
“I just want to get somewhere safe.” Guidance could come when I felt like I had a moment to think.
Nodding his head, he popped open the cell door. “Well, let’s do that then.”
With a few more flicks of his wrist, I heard a distinct pop before the cage itself became lighter, making it easier to breathe. I hadn’t even noticed the oppressive atmosphere until it began to dissipate. Taking a closer look at the wood slats that contained me, I saw how they shifted as a thin layer of air wavered around them.
“Get ready to run,” the man said. “As soon as that field of magic is down, you need to get out of here. Stick close and follow me. If we get separated, whatever you do, don’t take the main road out of here. You’ll be right back in the pens or worse if you fall for that trap.”
“What about the guards?”
There was a resounding snap and the door swung open. “I’ll handle the guards.”
I slipped past the man with the amber eyes the moment the guard was upon us. The velvet red of his uniform brushed against my arm as the jangle of keys echoed around me, the man who had freed me blocking me from the guards path.
“Well, hello, Voit. It is Voit, isn’t it? How’s the dog - I mean sister!”
It was the last I heard as I took off down the beach, my legs pumping beneath me as I tried to find my way out. He had said not to take the main road but it looked as if it was the only path. Stretching upwards into a city lined street, a well traversed road was splayed before me. Granules of sand filled in the cracked lines of the pavement, muddying the path upwards. To the right of me was a roaring ocean lit only by the flickering tails of eels and to the left, half sunken structures with bawdy music and where loosely slung drinks awaited. Slipping inside one of those establishments may not have been a bad idea if I wasn’t so far from their doors.
I cursed beneath my breath, the strangers words to stay away from the main road ringing through my ears. I saw no other option however and as a bell began to ring loudly somewhere behind me, I felt my heart beat in an uneven rhythm against my chest and my eyes darken around the edges. Adrenaline fueled panic clutched at me with a fever, refusing to loosen its grip.
With little time to think, I began to run towards the city block, skirting around large pockets of patrons, hoping that if a guard had eyes on me, I would be able to disappear into the crowd.
[[Take the main path]]
[[Try to find another way]]“I entered the market illegally,” I told him. “The only problem with that is I don’t actually remember entering the market.”
He paused, tipping his head up towards me. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly as it sounds. I have no memory of anything before getting dragged to the cells by this Velvet Guard.”
For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to believe me. Why would he? There was a certain apprehension filling his eyes that I thought was going to translate into him calling for the guards. Or at the very least, leaving me here. Instead, he nodded his head slowly. “Sounds like you might need a bit of guidance then.”
“I just want to get somewhere safe.” Guidance could come when I felt like I had a moment to think.
Nodding his head, he popped open the cell door. “Well, let’s do that then.”
With a few more flicks of his wrist, I heard a distinct pop before the cage itself became lighter, making it easier to breathe. I hadn’t even noticed the oppressive atmosphere until it began to dissipate. Taking a closer look at the wood slats that contained me, I saw how they shifted as a thin layer of air wavered around them.
“Get ready to run,” the man said. “As soon as that field of magic is down, you need to get out of here. Stick close and follow me. If we get separated, whatever you do, don’t take the main road out of here. You’ll be right back in the pens or worse if you fall for that trap.”
“What about the guards?”
There was a resounding snap and the door swung open. “I’ll handle the guards.”
I slipped past the man with the amber eyes the moment the guard was upon us. The velvet red of his uniform brushed against my arm as the jangle of keys echoed around me, the man who had freed me blocking me from the guards path.
“Well, hello, Voit. It is Voit, isn’t it? How’s the dog - I mean sister!”
It was the last I heard as I took off down the beach, my legs pumping beneath me as I tried to find my way out. He had said not to take the main road but it looked as if it was the only path. Stretching upwards into a city lined street, a well traversed road was splayed before me. Granules of sand filled in the cracked lines of the pavement, muddying the path upwards. To the right of me was a roaring ocean lit only by the flickering tails of eels and to the left, half sunken structures with bawdy music and where loosely slung drinks awaited. Slipping inside one of those establishments may not have been a bad idea if I wasn’t so far from their doors.
I cursed beneath my breath, the strangers words to stay away from the main road ringing through my ears. I saw no other option however and as a bell began to ring loudly somewhere behind me, I felt my heart beat in an uneven rhythm against my chest and my eyes darken around the edges. Adrenaline fueled panic clutched at me with a fever, refusing to loosen its grip.
With little time to think, I began to run towards the city block, skirting around large pockets of patrons, hoping that if a guard had eyes on me, I would be able to disappear into the crowd.
[[Take the main path]]
[[Try to find another way]]“I’m starting to suspect I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I told him. This was all beginning to spiral into one big misunderstanding. One I couldn’t clear up simply because I didn’t have the memory to do so.
“Yup, that’ll do it.” His tongue was tucked between his teeth as he listened to the shifting cogs.
The sound of his belt jangled dully against the wood slates of the cage. A series of keys hung from his hip, connected to a large bronze key ring. The irony that he was breaking me out with all those keys at his fingertips, was not lost on me.
“Do me a favor, would you darlin’? Look over my shoulder and tell me if that big man with the smashed nose is coming our way.”
I looked towards the sand blasted stoop the man had been standing on. Sure enough, he had since vacated it, his hand resting on the pommel of his silver sword.
“He’s about halfway to us,” I said.
With a few more flicks of his wrist, I heard a distinct pop before the cage itself became lighter, making it easier to breathe. I hadn’t even noticed the oppressive atmosphere until it began to dissipate. Taking a closer look at the wood slats that contained me, I saw how they shifted as a thin layer of air wavered around them.
“Get ready to run,” the man said. “As soon as that field of magic is down, you need to get out of here. Stick close and follow me. If we get separated, whatever you do, don’t take the main road out of here. You’ll be right back in the pens or worse if you fall for that trap.”
“And the guard?”
There was a resounding snap and the door swung open. “I’ll handle the guard.”
I slipped past the man with the amber eyes the moment the guard was upon us. The velvet red of his uniform brushed against my arm as the jangle of keys echoed around me, the man who had freed me blocking me from the guards path.
“Well, hello, Voit. It is Voit, isn’t it? How’s the dog - I mean sister!”
It was the last I heard as I took off down the beach, my legs pumping beneath me as I tried to find my way out. He had said not to take the main road but it looked as if it was the only path. Stretching upwards into a city lined street, a well traversed road was splayed before me. Granules of sand filled in the cracked lines of the pavement, muddying the path upwards. To the right of me was a roaring ocean lit only by the flickering tails of eels and to the left, half sunken structures with bawdy music and where loosely slung drinks awaited. Slipping inside one of those establishments may not have been a bad idea if I wasn’t so far from their doors.
I cursed beneath my breath, the strangers words to stay away from the main road ringing through my ears. I saw no other option however and as a bell began to ring loudly somewhere behind me, I felt my heart beat in an uneven rhythm against my chest and my eyes darken around the edges. Adrenaline fueled panic clutched at me with a fever, refusing to loosen its grip.
With little time to think, I began to run towards the city block, skirting around large pockets of patrons, hoping that if a guard had eyes on me, I would be able to disappear into the crowd.
[[Take the main path]]
[[Try to find another way]]The sand sunk beneath my feet, making my movements slow and hindering. Above me glowed the soft light of a series of swaying lanterns, all of which were strung together on a thick cord fastened between buildings. They cast an inviting amber glow down towards the beach where I still remained somewhat hidden in shadow. It looked like salvation, however, and as sweat began to gather across my brow, I wanted to believe that the man had been wrong.
The second my feet hit the pavement, my movements quickened. I ran up the slope, squeezing my eyes shut as I put on a burst of speed, not daring to look behind me. When the ground evened out I snapped them open again.
And immediately sucked in a sharp breath of air.
There was no city street. There was no meandering pathway that led out towards freedom. There was a circular facade of buildings, all of which were lit but housed no one. A show for the ones brave enough to escape and stupid enough to think that it would be that easy. Standing at each alleyway was a guard, clad in the velvet lined uniform I was coming to recognize, their weapons at the ready. Six sets of eyes turned to me, none of them moving. They knew they had me trapped. They knew there was nowhere I could go.
[[Turn around and run for the saloons]]
[[Look for the man who had set me free]]
[[See if I could bluff my way out]]The world tilted around me as I wove through towering individuals with wide set horns and smaller, daintier souls with scaled arms and piercing eyes. Disappearing in a sea of lace and finery it was clear that on the other side of the cages, this was a party. The elite were out, taking a stroll for the evening, while others wept behind enforced bars. The contrast was startling and as I fumbled down the shore line, looking for any sign of safety, I didn’t dare look back to see if anyone was following me.
The main road began to unfold before me and I frantically looked around. It presented itself as the only clear path out of the beach, but even I knew that when something looked too good to be true, it was because it probably was. If I ran up there now, I had a growing suspicion they would not be kindly escorting me back down to my open cage. But I couldn’t see where else to go. To the right of me was a storming ocean with sunken cages and flickering eels. To the left, dilapidated buildings that looked like forsaken saloons, housing guards and interesting parties who would snatch me up with a leer and nothing more. And behind me, the bail block, where a man was shouting obscenities because no one was bidding on him.
The world I found myself in felt as if it were cornering me and driving me to my knees.
“Can I help you?” I froze, the sound of jangling bells carried towards me on the wind. Turning, I found an average sized man with gray hands, wearing a bone mask. Horns curled up from either side, littered with metal bells. “You look lost,” he commented.
I backed away. “I’m fine,” I told him. Eyes began to tick towards our direction and I knew if I didn’t keep moving, someone was going to figure out that I was not where I belonged.
“Are you sure?” I couldn’t tell, but I thought he may be grinning. “You look as if you don’t recognize a lick of what’s around you.”
[[Just trying to find my way home]]
[[I’m new to the market]]
[[Get out of there quick]]
Stumbling backwards I felt my breath catch icily in my throat, stabbing through my lungs in small shards of something that felt achingly like defeat. My feet fumbled backwards as I kept my eyes on the group of soldiers before me, a few of which had donned amused expressions on their faces as they leisurely made their way towards me. Without thinking, I turned and ran.
I could hear their laughter behind me as I made my way back towards where I had come, this time veering off towards the saloons instead. I couldn’t go back towards the bail block and found no other option than the one that only moments before, had seemed nye impossible to breach.
The steps up to the saloons were worn by the constant onslaught of sea salt and heavy boots. I kept my head down, spying the velvet coats of the guards out of the corner of my eye. So far, no one seemed to have noticed I was gone. Or they didn’t care. Sidestepping a group of them up to their elbows in ale and some sort of card game, I ducked into the first saloon I could fit in, where the door was crooked but still operational.
The room was awash with music. A strange plinking noise came from a few minstrels emerging from a cloud of sweet smelling smoke. Round tables stained with stale ale and gun oil were filled to capacity as patrons gathered around, kicking dirty boots up and flinging their heads back in raucous laughter. Heat wove through the small room in sweltering waves, sending immediate pins of sweat dotting across my skin while the occasional scent of body odor told me that I was not alone in this state.
I wove my way through the loose-limbed bodies without anyone glancing my way. Outside people were being sold off, some for parts, but here they drank and ate, making merry while time allowed them to.
I pushed myself through the crowd, growing a bit bolder, knowing that I could not let my caution falter despite the relative air of heedless concern. There had to be a back door I could slip through. Some place much less in the open. As I passed a table full of drunken fauns, I grabbed a leather duster from the back of one of their chairs. It smelled of cigarette smoke and was three sizes too big, but I pulled it on as I made my way through the room, flipping the collar up.
Upon reaching the back, a narrow hallway loomed before me. I braced my hand on the wall to keep myself upright as the floor crept up towards the edge of the wall in a deep curve. I could hear the clanging of a kitchen and saw the bright lights from an open archway above. Next to it, was a large steel door, cracked open to ease some of the sweltering heat.
That was my way out.
Trying to remain as unassuming as possible, I bypassed the kitchen and pushed open the door. The relief that washed over me was immediate, ridding my skin of the stench of sweat and cigar smoke that now permeated my clothes. Three broken stone steps led me down onto a flat expanse of alley, the likes of which looked as if it meandered outwards and away from the saloon lined beach behind me.
A thick stone wall stood as a solid figure a good dozen paces away, fencing off the glowing lights that I could see swinging on the other side. In front of that, stood three guards, dressed in red velvet.
They stared back at me, an amber bottle clutched in the biggest one’s hand. Next to him, stood a portly man with a bristled mustache and a lanky kid that looked too young to be a part of any sort of guard.
“Evenin’.” The bristled mustache spoke first, his eyes tracing me in a way that was searching for weapons or some sort of threat. “Out for a smoke?”
[[(lie) Yes]]
[[(lie) Headed home, actually]]
[[Ignore them and try to move passed them]]Stumbling backwards, I felt my breath catch icily in my throat, stabbing through my lungs in small shards of something that felt achingly like defeat. My feet fumbled beneath me as I kept my eyes on the group of soldiers, most of their expressions twisting into amusement as they leisurely made their way towards me. In an effort to get away, I slipped off the side of the path, tumbling down a slope of crab grass and rubble before landing hard on wet sand. My knees splashed in a small tributary of water, soaking my already sweat and dirt stained clothes.
I could hear the guards' laughter up above and as I looked behind me, I realized that no one was following from the bail block. At least the stranger, whoever he was, had managed to save me there. His own fate would be something I would think about if I was given the chance later.
Standing, I leaned back against the moss laden stone of the embankment supporting the road. Closing my eyes, I quickly tried to come up with my next course of action. But short of jumping into eel infested waters, I was no longer sure what direction I could go. As per what my memory now held, my life had become nothing but one tumbling move into the next, and it had finally dominoed to a broken end.
Until a hand wrapped around my mouth and yanked me backwards.
[[Scream]]
[[Bite down on the hand]]
[[Stay frozen in fear]]Swallowing my fear, I stepped forward. If I turned and ran now, it would only cause suspicion. As confidently as I could, I walked towards them, hoping that what I was wearing was not some form of prisoner uniform. The fact that I was covered in sand was doing me no favors already.
“Evening,” a woman called out. She wore the crimson uniform and stood at the mouth of an alley. “Can I help you?”
“Just leaving for the night,” I said. I didn’t know what was beyond this courtyard but I could figure that out later. I just needed to get past her.
“Enjoy the festivities?”
“I did,” I told her. “But, it’s getting late. Time to get home.”
She cocked her head to the side, looking at me with growing suspicion. “It’s afternoon,” she said slowly. The sky was pitch black overhead but I felt my heart sink. I tried to plaster on a joking smile. Something that said both her and I were in on the joke, but her hand was reaching for her sword.
“Can I see some identification papers tonight?” she asked. A few alleys down, another guard stepped forward.
“I–” I had nothing. No papers. No actual name. No memories of how this was supposed to go. Why had I thought I could bluff my way past them?
[[I left them in the saloon. Let me go get them]]
[[I left them at home]]
[[My partner has them]]
I let out a muffled scream as I was pulled back behind a curtain of ivy. It stuttered out of me as I was held against a strong chest and the grip tightened around my waist so I was unable to move.
“Shh… It’s me.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized it was the man from the cages and while my body did not lessen in tension, I didn’t fight him. He loosened his hold then, his hand dropping from my mouth. Before us, shadowed figures stopped. Two guards looked around, mumbling to each other on the other side of a dripping green curtain of ivy and moss, wet with fresh water trickling somewhere in the cavern.
Tugging on my hand, the man began pulling me backwards, uninterested in what the guards were saying. He motioned for me to hug the wall, keeping my wet shoes from splashing against the water, and silently, the two of us moved into the tunnel we now stood in, the guard's shadowed forms disappearing behind us.
The tunnels were unlike the ones up above. These were dark and narrow, and I could feel the damp settling into my lungs. We walked for a while in silence, me occasionally stumbling, catching myself on the smooth texture of the outer walls, while this stranger seemed sure footed, knowing the route well. Or at least I assumed he did by his pace. I could barely see in front of me, relying instead on the jangling of the keys from his belt to get anywhere.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice sounding too loud in the dark.
“Shit,” he laughed. “Yeah. Guess you wouldn’t know that, huh. Milo. Milo Next. You got a name yet?”
I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see me. “It’s $name. No last one. For now, at least.”
“Last names are overrated. Plus it makes the uppity ones within the market have a field day. No, Ms. that or Mr. this. Watch when you speak to a guard next. Drives them fuckin’ wild.”
We walked in silence then, our feet stomping over what felt like mud and broken pavement. I thought for sure I saw a door, moss growing over the outline of it. But we passed it too quickly for me to even give it a second though .A fair distance in, Milo stopped, fishing a lighter from out of his pocket. I heard a small click before a single flickering flame appeared before me. I squinted, having been in the dark so long at this point that even that small light seemed massive.
“So,” Milo started. “You escaped. Well done.” I stared at him, the curls of his hair illuminated in dark strands across his forehead, while the flame cast a dancing shadow across the ridiculous expanse of skin not covered by his shirt.
[[Are you going to take me back?]]
[[Where are you taking me?]]
[[Are you going to kill me?]]
A curtain of ivy and lichen fluttered closed in front of me as I was pulled back against a strong chest. My arms were promptly pinned to my side so I would not flail, the grip around my waist unrelenting as a hand came up and covered my mouth. Instinctively, I bit down, feeling the skin break beneath my teeth.
“Ow! Fuck.”
My eyes widened as I whipped around. I could barely see the man through the filtered light from the moon outside but by the voice alone I knew it to be the man from earlier. The one who had helped free me. He was waving his hand around, looking at me in shock.
“It’s you?” I whispered, needing the confirmation.
“Yes it’s me. Who the hell else would it even be?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know where I am or who you even are,” I hissed back. “And you shouldn’t just go around dark tunnels grabbing-”
He grabbed me again, pulling me deeper into the tunnel. Before us, the shadowed form of two guards stood just on the other side of the mossy overhang. My eyes went wide and my breath stuttered to a halt. I looked towards the man in askance and he just nodded his head once, putting a finger to my lips.
Silently, we began to make our way further underground.
The tunnels were unlike the ones up above. These were dark and narrow, and I could feel the damp settling into my lungs. We walked for a while in silence, me occasionally stumbling, catching myself on the smooth texture of the outer walls, while this stranger seemed sure footed, knowing the route well. Or at least I assumed he did by his pace. I could barely see in front of me, relying instead on the jangling of the keys from his belt to get anywhere.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice sounding too loud in the dark.
“Shit,” he laughed. “Yeah. Guess you wouldn’t know that, huh. Milo. Milo Next. You got a name yet?”
I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see me. “It’s $name. No last one. For now, at least.”
“Last names are overrated. Plus it makes the uppity ones within the market have a field day. No, Ms. that or Mr. this. Watch when you speak to a guard next. Drives them fuckin’ wild.”
We walked in silence then, our feet stomping over what felt like mud and broken pavement. I thought for sure I saw a door, moss growing over the outline of it. But we passed it too quickly for me to even give it a second though .A fair distance in, Milo stopped, fishing a lighter from out of his pocket. I heard a small click before a single flickering flame appeared before me. I squinted, having been in the dark so long at this point that even that small light seemed massive.
“So,” Milo started. “You escaped. Well done.” I stared at him, the curls of his hair illuminated in dark strands across his forehead, while the flame cast a dancing shadow across the ridiculous expanse of skin not covered by his shirt.
[[Are you going to take me back?]]
[[Where are you taking me?]]
[[Are you going to kill me?]]
My heart leapt somewhere in my throat as I went completely limp against the muscled chest behind me. The only thing holding me up was the arm that pinned me in place.
“It’s me.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized it was the man from the cages and while my body did not lessen in tension, I didn’t fight him. He loosened his hold then, his hand dropping from my mouth. Before us, shadowed figures stopped. Two guards looked around, mumbling to each other on the other side of a dripping green curtain of ivy and moss, wet with fresh water trickling somewhere in the cavern.
Tugging on my hand, the man began pulling me backwards, uninterested in what the guards were saying. He motioned for me to hug the wall, keeping my wet shoes from splashing against the water, and silently, the two of us moved into the tunnel we now stood in, the guard's shadowed forms disappearing behind us.
The tunnels were unlike the ones up above. These were dark and narrow, and I could feel the damp settling into my lungs. We walked for a while in silence, me occasionally stumbling, catching myself on the smooth texture of the outer walls, while this stranger seemed sure footed, knowing the route well. Or at least I assumed he did by his pace. I could barely see in front of me, relying instead on the jangling of the keys from his belt to get anywhere.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice sounding too loud in the dark.
“Shit,” he laughed. “Yeah. Guess you wouldn’t know that, huh. Milo. Milo Next. You got a name yet?”
I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see me. “It’s $name. No last one. For now, at least.”
“Last names are overrated. Plus it makes the uppity ones within the market have a field day. No, Ms. that or Mr. this. Watch when you speak to a guard next. Drives them fuckin’ wild.”
We walked in silence then, our feet stomping over what felt like mud and broken pavement. I thought for sure I saw a door, moss growing over the outline of it. But we passed it too quickly for me to even give it a second though .A fair distance in, Milo stopped, fishing a lighter from out of his pocket. I heard a small click before a single flickering flame appeared before me. I squinted, having been in the dark so long at this point that even that small light seemed massive.
“So,” Milo started. “You escaped. Well done.” I stared at him, the curls of his hair illuminated in dark strands across his forehead, while the flame cast a dancing shadow across the ridiculous expanse of skin not covered by his shirt.
[[Are you going to take me back?]]
[[Where are you taking me?]]
[[Are you going to kill me?]]
“Are you going to take me back?” My voice sounded dull and cracked as I spoke to him. I was tired, the day beginning to catch up to me. To have it all end here, now, as some sort of ruse by this stranger, seemed oddly fitting.
“Why would I help you escape if I was going to take you back?” he asked. There was nothing deceitful that I could glean from his words. If anything, it sounded like an honest question. One that seemed far more logical than what I had asked but given the kind of day I had, I wasn’t surprised.
“I’m assuming there would be money in it for you,” I said. It was not a far leap to make to assume that the Velvet Guard wouldn’t pay handsomely for returned prisoners. And this Milo seemed like the kind of con man who would take advantage of that.
“All good points but it seems rather counterproductive. Work smart. Not hard.” I couldn’t see his expression, and maybe that was for the best, because when he gestured for me to follow him, I did without question. I had no reason not to believe this strange man. And the tunnels were beginning to get cold now that my heart had stopped racing in my chest.
Our pace slowed now that it was clear the danger had passed, his lighter casting small shadows along the darkened tunnel. I kept a steady distance from him to give myself the opportunity to run if need be, but the trepidation that I had been feeling was beginning to ebb.
[[Stay quiet and continue to walk]]
[[Thank him for helping]]
[[Stay wary and don't trust him entirely]]“Where are you taking me now?” I asked after a moment. The only sound within the tunnels were the jangling of the keys loose on his belt, and our wet footsteps.
“Up.”
I dumbly looked upwards, but saw only darkness.
“I’m not taking you back to the docks,” he said simply. “Believe it or not, I don’t really condone what they do there. Barbaric practices that have been in place for longer than anyone can probably remember, and no one is brave enough or dumb enough to cause a bit of anarchy and burn it all to the ground.” He looked over his shoulder at me. Or at least, I think he did. “When I saw you trying to break yourself out, I figured I would help.”
“Why?” From what I had seen, there were hundreds of pens. Some of them crumbled with huddled figures cowering in corners. Others looked pristine but still harbored fearful faces. I was only one in a long line of many, and yet he had chosen me to break free.
“Isn’t that what good people are supposed to do?” he asked. There was a note of bitterness in his voice. I wondered if he didn’t see himself as a good man.
[[Stay quiet and continue to walk]]
[[Thank him for helping]]
[[Stay wary and don't trust him entirely]]“Are you going to kill me?” My voice sounded dull and cracked as I spoke. I was tired, the day beginning to catch up to me and desperately I wanted to trust this man. To find in him some sort of ally that could help me navigate this strange place I now found myself in. Common decency didn’t seem to entirely be a thing here. Not with the general acceptance of locking people in cages for the most minor provocation.
But as the lighter flickered on, coming close to my face, I got a look at his expression and saw something akin to horror reflected in his eyes. “You– shit. You really don’t know who you are. You just walked down this tunnel with a stranger, hoping I wouldn’t leave you down here to die?”
“Why does everyone look so shocked when I say I can’t remember who I am?” I asked.
He took a few steps back from me, huffing out a breath of mirthless laughter. “Don’t know. Guess we all just assume.”
“You’re not answering my question,” I reminded him. Though he didn’t look like a killer in the dim light of the tunnel. In fact, he looked uncomfortable with the mere suggestion.
“Why do you think I’m going to kill you, darlin’?” HIs voice was flat as he asked and it did little to comfort me.
<<if $tentacleman == "true">>”So far, most of what I have encountered looks like they want to kill me,” I told him, thinking of the man with the goat-like eyes and tentacle fingers. “And you seem to look at it all like a joke.”
Milo shook his head, his shoulders dropping. “Look, that was… well… okay yeah. How I’ve been acting towards you probably doesn’t look great for me, but I knew what I was doing.”
“And what exactly were you doing?”
“With Dragul? He’s an idiot. An absolute moron. I just needed to get you away from him so he wouldn’t sound the fucking alarm. By making you seem like you were dangerous or damaged goods, he was going to leave you alone. He’s a coward if there ever was one and is severely lacking the intelligence to see through even a simple ruse. I thought it the best option.” <<elseif $tentacleman == "false">> “I watched you practically berate the Velvet Guard the entire time I was in a cage,” I told him. “The very people who tossed me in there, you were trying to provoke.”
“And that means I’m going to kill you?”
“I don’t know what it means,” I told him. “But I think it’s a pretty logical question to ask given the day I’ve had.”
The light went out for a minute, extinguishing with the huff of my breath. When Milo flicked it back on, I thought I saw the grim mask of death pass across his eyes. “Believe me, after having met you, I don’t want to kill you.”
“You did before?” I asked, feeling my world beginning to spin.
“Fuck. I– it’s a saying, okay? I don’t want to kill you. There is no desire to off you. Stabbing you is a last resort to a long list of unfortunate events that maybe you and I will never have to find ourselves in. Just stop asking the question. It’s making both you and I sound paranoid.”<</if>>
I blinked at him. I had no idea why, but I believed him. Maybe because of the genuine look on his face, or maybe because the entire thing sounded too insane to work, and yet it did. Either way, I nodded once to him, letting my shoulders uncurl from their hunched position near my ears. After a moment of silence where I offered him no protest, he turned and began walking again.
Our pace slowed now that it was clear the danger had passed, his lighter casting small shadows along the darkened tunnel. I kept a steady distance from him to give myself the opportunity to run if need be, but the trepidation that I had been feeling was beginning to ebb.
[[Stay quiet and continue to walk]]
[[Thank him for helping]]
[[Stay wary and don't trust him entirely]]I had no time to think. With the door wideopen, I bolted. The stranger was right on my heels with a whoop of laughter.
It took no time for him to pass me, weaving through the crowd as if he knew this dance well. I pumped my legs in an effort to follow but he was quick and the sand made my own movements sluggish. Keeping my head ducked, I tried to make it seem like I hadn’t just burst from a cage with the Velvet Guard milling about. The man wore a pair of worn, heavy boots and as we ran, I tried to keep them in my sight. They stood out in heavy contrast to the velvet slippers and shiny loafers adorning everyone else's feet. The evengings events were seen as a party to everyone on the other side of the slats. A night of revelry and an excuse to dress up. That very knowledge twisted in my stomach. Human life was a commodity to be traded among the rich while the rest had to duck their head and stay out of their way.
As the man's feet skirted around a large group of people, I tried to control my breathing. As long as I didn’t look suspicious, it was doubtful anyone would know I was meant to be sold. I wore no brand and my clothes, while nondescript, didn’t look as if they matched the other prisoners. For the first time since waking in the market, I felt as if I might have the chance at freedom.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” A sticky hand wrapped around me. The man in question had jowls hanging from his sallow face and slitted eyes that blinked at odd intervals. My gaze skirted downwards to where he had a hold of me. The suckered tips of his fingers were pulsing against my bare skin and I could feel the bruises blooming beneath his grip. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a cage, pretty one? I could have sworn I saw you just in one. Was going to come over and talk to you.”
[[Yank my arm away]]
[[Look for help]]
[[Stomp on his foot]]“Thanks,” I said, stepping around him. “But I think I’d rather take my chances on my own.” Grabbing him by the shoulders, I pivoted and pushed with all my might, sending the man crashing into the recently vacated pens. Without thinking, I slammed the cage door shut, just as he slammed against it in an effort to push me out of the way.
We stared at each other, both of us wide-eyed and in shock. His fingers flexed around the bars, the tarnished band he wore on his thumb drumming ominous against the wood. “Unexpected,” he murmured. There was a smile on his lips but one that was full of much more eager vengeance than I was comfortable with.
“Sorry.” It was a reflex apology as I continued to stare at him, still unaware of when I had even made the decision to turn the table like this.
“No you’re not,” he said with a shake of his head.
I nodded in agreement. “I’m not.”
Pushing away from the cage, I ran, taking off down the beach and disappearing into the crowd. Later, I could think about what I had just done, dooming a mans fate to one I had refused to accept. Later, I could decide if I had any other option. But for right now, freedom was within my grasp and it was the only thing I could focus on.
As far as I could tell, my options of escape were limited. Behind me, was the bail block. A wide stage that butted up against a jutting cliffside wall that reached up towards the gray night before disappearing among the stars. To my left, was a series of tilted buildings, structures that leaned against each other in support before reaching the last building that was nothing more than a crumpled heap of wood and trash. Then, to the right, the ocean that offered only sunken cages and electric pulses.
Up ahead, towards the winding stretch of pavement that looked more lit and welcoming, milled a crowd of people. Ones that had just begun their evening of perusing what the bail block had to offer. While I entertained the idea of disappearing into the crowd, I doubted that luck would be on my side. It hadn’t been so far.
“The saloons it is,” I muttered to myself.
[[Next|The saloons]]
<<set $cagemilo to "true">>I yanked my arm away, feeling the harsh suction of tentacles rip at my skin. Purple blotches in the shape of puckered stars were forming across my $skincolor skin as tendrils of pain snaked across my nerves in licks of fire.
“Feisty,” the creature leered, taking another step forward. I matched their approach with a firm step back. “Now what would the Velvet Guard say, if they saw something as pretty as you outside your pen?”
Red clad soldiers wandered the beach, either uncaring of my open cell or simply having not noticed it yet. So far they had done far less policing and far more drinking. It didn’t mean I wanted to take my chances with them.
“Why don’t you come with me, pretty. I’ll buy your bail outright and we can,” he licked his lips, the suckers on his fingers pulsating. “Work something out.”
I knocked into a hard body, almost toppling over as I stumbled backwards. The creature laughed while the woman I had barrelled into huffed in annoyance at the things that were now spilled across the ground. I took the moment of distraction to run, though, weaving my way through the crowd and trying to put as much distance between me and that creature as possible.
We walked close together, shifting around others as individuals drunkenly swayed across the beach. The crowd began to thin the further away from the cages we got and I saw a main path leading up towards a courtyard surrounded by well lit buildings. This stranger, however, veered to the right, taking me away from the shimmering lanterns I could see ahead and towards the wet dark. A small trickle of water glistened down a stone wall that made up the foundation of the main road. It dripped in a single rivulet down the side before forming a long line in the sand. It was too small to be considered a tributary. More like the run-off after a hard rain. But it was quick, and it was fresh and that meant, it had to come from somewhere. That was where we were headed.
“We are being followed,” the man next to me muttered, picking up our pace. We stepped into the more watery parts of the path before us, hiding our footsteps as we jumped from each tide pool “When I say duck, do it without reacting.” Our footsteps quickened as we moved towards the shadows. With a quick glance over my shoulder I could see the outline of two guards, curiously following our footsteps. “Duck.”
I crouched down low before being tugged behind a curtain of moss. A long dark tunnel loomed behind me while at my front was a blanket of lichen so thick that I could barely see through it. Moments later, the silhouettes of the guards walked by. I ticked my gaze towards the one person I realized I had put all my trust in. I could barely see him in the dim light. Taking a few steps back, he motioned for me to follow.
[[Next|Down the tunnels]]
<<set $tentacleman to "true">>My skin tightened beneath his grip, breaking open as small drops of blood began to drip down my arm. Pain lashed through me and I heard myself cry out involuntarily while my eyes searched the market for some degree of help.
“Feisty,” the creature leered.
“Let me go,” I tried. With each struggle I felt myself getting drawn nearer and nearer, the creature reeling me in.
“Without bail?” the creature crooned. “I don’t think the Velvet Guard would like that very much. I hear they are running low on funds.”
Panic took hold like a dull ache, clenching my heart until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Freedom had felt momentarily within my grasp. The idea of having to go back to the briney slats of the cages or the darkness of the cells above sent my head swimming. All I could see though was where those suckered fingers gripped me. The one obstacle within my sight that was holding me down and I was too scared to even move.
An arm wrapped around my shoulders, heavy and reassuring. It shocked me out of the odd reverie I had been spiraling towards and brought my gaze upwards to look upon a now familiar set of amber eyes.
“Tough luck,” he said, staring at the man with the goat eyes. “You didn’t consume any of the blood yet, did you?” he winced a bit in sympathy. “You have. Let me get a good look at you. See if I can see it.” He leaned in close, nose touching the other man's sharp jaw.
The man looked startled and I could feel his grip loosening. “What are you going on about, Next. Another one of your lies.”
With his arm still heavy around me, the man with the amber eyes shook his head, tsking a bit in disappointment. “Oh, you poor, shar pei looking, fool,” he mocked. His laughter rang out loudly, a trait I was noticing was as much a part of the man as his jangling keys. “You know what? I’m not even going to fight you on this one. Take your prize. Go ahead. I’ll come collect your things in the morning.”
The creature looked at me, his gaze flickering over my body as if to try and discern what exactly was being insinuated.The arm fell from my shoulder then as he began to walk away, twirling that cigarette between his fingers. Cold fear filled me the further he got. This stranger with the crooked grin.
“You’re not worth it,” the creature suddenly spat, his tone filled with disgust. His fingers unlatched from me and I could see the telling sign of purpling bruises. I stumbled backwards though and ran, catching up to the man as I begun to wonder if he was my best course of action.
“Don’t look suspicious,” he said, cigarette now dangling from his mouth. “Just keep on walkin’ like you own the place. No one is going to give you a second look."
We walked close together, shifting around others as individuals drunkenly swayed across the beach. The crowd began to thin the further away from the cages we got and I saw a main path leading up towards a courtyard surrounded by well lit buildings. This stranger, however, veered to the right, taking me away from the shimmering lanterns I could see ahead and towards the wet dark. A small trickle of water glistened down a stone wall that made up the foundation of the main road. It dripped in a single rivulet down the side before forming a long line in the sand. It was too small to be considered a tributary. More like the run-off after a hard rain. But it was quick, and it was fresh and that meant, it had to come from somewhere. That was where we were headed.
“We are being followed,” the man next to me muttered, picking up our pace. We stepped into the more watery parts of the path before us, hiding our footsteps as we jumped from each tide pool “When I say duck, do it without reacting.” Our footsteps quickened as we moved towards the shadows. With a quick glance over my shoulder I could see the outline of two guards, curiously following our footsteps. “Duck.”
I crouched down low before being tugged behind a curtain of moss. A long dark tunnel loomed behind me while at my front was a blanket of lichen so thick that I could barely see through it. Moments later, the silhouettes of the guards walked by. I ticked my gaze towards the one person I realized I had put all my trust in. I could barely see him in the dim light. Taking a few steps back, he motioned for me to follow.
[[Next|Down the tunnels]]
<<set $tentacleman to "true">>My skin tightened beneath his grip, breaking open as small drops of blood began to drip down my arm. I kicked out blindly, stomping my foot down hard on the shiny pair of loafers the creature wore. It was enough for him to break his hold on me, though the smile he gave me in return was one that slid down my spine like rot.
“Feisty,” the creature leered. “Did you treat the Velvet Guard the same? Or are you one of the ones they picked up for free? I hear they are running low on funds.”
Anger gripped me. So far within this market, most of who I had run into had taken the liberty of grabbing me. Pulling me. Shoving me in cells and cages. Threatening me just because they could. I wanted to fight against it, show them the same kind of pain and fear they tried to pull from me. Starting with whatever his man was.
An arm wrapped around my shoulders, heavy and reassuring. I shrugged it off immediately but as I looked up to see just who else was laying hands on me, I locked onto a set of familiar amber eyes.
“Is this individual bothering you, my liege.” I blinked at him, watching as he bowed to me shifting his entire demeanor the second I had shoved him off. “Shall I call the guard?”
The creature before us snorted in laughter. “Come off it, Next. You mean to tell me that this urchin here is someone important? The guard comes over here and they are going to take one look at how I’m dressed and one look at–” The next thing either of us knew, the man with the jangling keys held a knife up to the creature's neck. His grin was wide and his eyes glinted in the firelight around us. The heat from the bonfires suddenly flt sweltering at my back.
“Should we try?” he mused.
The creature ticked their gaze back towards me, weighing their options. When they spit upon the ground, they pushed away from the two of us, sneering at what they clearly thought was the denial of their brand of fun. “Not worth it,” he said, looking me up and down. “Useless.”
Next to me, the stranger grinned broadly, his knife already being concealed. “Have a nice night!” Then, more quietly. “Sorry for gettin’ handsy. Follow me, yeah?”
I stared at him out of the corner of my eyes, not sure what to do with whatever just happened. But, I knew that I felt better with someone who obviously knew the tricks of the market, than without.
We walked close together, shifting around others as individuals drunkenly swayed across the beach. The crowd began to thin the further away from the cages we got and I saw a main path leading up towards a courtyard surrounded by well lit buildings. This stranger, however, veered to the right, taking me away from the shimmering lanterns I could see ahead and towards the wet dark. A small trickle of water glistened down a stone wall that made up the foundation of the main road. It dripped in a single rivulet down the side before forming a long line in the sand. It was too small to be considered a tributary. More like the run-off after a hard rain. But it was quick, and it was fresh and that meant, it had to come from somewhere. That was where we were headed.
“We are being followed,” the man next to me muttered, picking up our pace. We stepped into the more watery parts of the path before us, hiding our footsteps as we jumped from each tide pool “When I say duck, do it without reacting.” Our footsteps quickened as we moved towards the shadows. With a quick glance over my shoulder I could see the outline of two guards, curiously following our footsteps. “Duck.”
I crouched down low before being tugged behind a curtain of moss. A long dark tunnel loomed behind me while at my front was a blanket of lichen so thick that I could barely see through it. Moments later, the silhouettes of the guards walked by. I ticked my gaze towards the one person I realized I had put all my trust in. I could barely see him in the dim light. Taking a few steps back, he motioned for me to follow.
[[Next|Down the tunnels]]
<<set $tentacleman to "true">>The tunnels were unlike the ones up above. These were dark and narrow, and I could feel the damp settling into my lungs. We walked for a while in silence, me occasionally stumbling, catching myself on the smooth texture of the outer walls, while this stranger seemed sure footed, knowing the route well. Or at least I assumed he did by his pace. I could barely see in front of me, relying instead on the jangling of the keys from his belt to get anywhere.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice sounding too loud in the dark.
“Shit,” he laughed. “Yeah. Guess you wouldn’t know that, huh. Milo. Milo Next. You got a name yet?”
I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see me. “It’s $name. No last one. For now, at least.”
“Last names are overrated. Plus it makes the uppity ones within the market have a field day. No, Ms. that or Mr. this. Watch when you speak to a guard next. Drives them fuckin’ wild.”
We walked in silence then, our feet stomping over what felt like mud and broken pavement. I thought for sure I saw a door, moss growing over the outline of it. But we passed it too quickly for me to even give it a second though .A fair distance in, Milo stopped, fishing a lighter from out of his pocket. I heard a small click before a single flickering flame appeared before me. I squinted, having been in the dark so long at this point that even that small light seemed massive.
“So,” Milo started. “You escaped. Well done.” I stared at him, the curls of his hair illuminated in dark strands across his forehead, while the flame cast a dancing shadow across the ridiculous expanse of skin not covered by his shirt.
[[Are you going to take me back?]]
[[Where are you taking me?]]
[[Are you going to kill me?]]
“I’m just trying to find my way home,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. No one needed to know where home was. Especially since I was shaky on the entire concept itself.
“Well, if you are looking for home, I would suggest a main road like the one up there. But, then again, there is a lot of traffic going through there. And you’d have to pass a checkpoint. Might not want to deal with the hassle.”
I stared at the man. There was no way he could have known who I was and yet his advice felt like the confirmation I needed. “Thanks,” I tried. “I’m sure I’ll find it.”
“Bit too much to drink tonight, perhaps,” he said, stomping his cane on the ground. “Good luck. Good to see our dear market is still open to others.” I didn’t wait around to see if he said anything more. Turning, I made my way through the crowd, hoping he was not following me.
Moving away from the bonfires that riddled the beach, I began to feel the cold set in. My skin raised under the onslaught pouring in from the ocean waves. Ducking towards an area that looked as if it was deserted, I began to take stock of my surroundings. It all felt like a dead end. Nothing but tide pools and rock walls that reached up towards an expanse of land that I was sure housed the Velvet Guard.
Running a hand across my face in frustration, I tried to keep my wits about me. I was so close. Safety had to be within my reach but I just wasn’t seeing it. But then, something caught my eye. A slow shift of moss against a rock wall. It had been subtle. Normally, it would have been something most anyone would dismiss. Except, I had to have hope.
Walking towards it, I reached out, brushing my fingers across the curtain of moss. It moved like silken fabric against my fingers and there, on the other side, was a long dark tunnel.
I stepped inside without looking. I didn’t know if I was being followed and at this point, I didn’t care. The beach was too crowded and if this tunnel led to nowhere, at least I was guaranteed to be alone. Or, at least that was the comfort I continued to tell myself.
With a deep breath, I began to set off down the dark corridor, leaving the chaos of the bail block behind me.
[[Next|solo tunnels]]“I’m new to the market,” I said, trying to put a smile behind my words while silently hoping that visiting the Night Market was a common thing.
“I can see that,” he said with a nod. The bells chimed with each move he made. “Well, my only advice to give you is to trust carefully. You never know the sorts that are lurking in dark corners,” he laughed. A few others around him laughed as well and while I laughed nervously with him, I made sure to end the conversation there, backing away.
Moving away from the bonfires that riddled the beach, I began to feel the cold set in. My skin raised under the onslaught pouring in from the ocean waves. Ducking towards an area that looked as if it was deserted, I began to take stock of my surroundings. It all felt like a dead end. Nothing but tide pools and rock walls that reached up towards an expanse of land that I was sure housed the Velvet Guard.
Running a hand across my face in frustration, I tried to keep my wits about me. I was so close. Safety had to be within my reach but I just wasn’t seeing it. But then, something caught my eye. A slow shift of moss against a rock wall. It had been subtle. Normally, it would have been something most anyone would dismiss. Except, I had to have hope.
Walking towards it, I reached out, brushing my fingers across the curtain of moss. It moved like silken fabric against my fingers and there, on the other side, was a long dark tunnel.
I stepped inside without looking. I didn’t know if I was being followed and at this point, I didn’t care. The beach was too crowded and if this tunnel led to nowhere, at least I was guaranteed to be alone. Or, at least that was the comfort I continued to tell myself.
With a deep breath, I began to set off down the dark corridor, leaving the chaos of the bail block behind me.
[[Next|solo tunnels]]“I really am good,” I told him. Before he could follow up on what was clearly a lie, I moved away, making a point to step between big swaths of the crowd. Moving away from the bonfires that riddled the beach, I began to feel the cold set in. My skin raised under the onslaught pouring in from the ocean waves. Ducking towards an area that looked as if it was deserted, I began to take stock of my surroundings. It all felt like a dead end. Nothing but tide pools and rock walls that reached up towards an expanse of land that I was sure housed the Velvet Guard.
Running a hand across my face in frustration, I tried to keep my wits about me. I was so close. Safety had to be within my reach but I just wasn’t seeing it. But then, something caught my eye. A slow shift of moss against a rock wall. It had been subtle. Normally, it would have been something most anyone would dismiss. Except, I had to have hope.
Walking towards it, I reached out, brushing my fingers across the curtain of moss. It moved like silken fabric against my fingers and there, on the other side, was a long dark tunnel.
I stepped inside without looking. I didn’t know if I was being followed and at this point, I didn’t care. The beach was too crowded and if this tunnel led to nowhere, at least I was guaranteed to be alone. Or, at least that was the comfort I continued to tell myself.
With a deep breath, I began to set off down the dark corridor, leaving the chaos of the bail block behind me.
[[Next|solo tunnels]]I didn’t know how long I stumbled through the dark. I could barely see a hand's width in front of my face. The ground beneath me was subtly changing from the soft pressure of sand into pebbled gravel and with the way my legs ached, I had a suspicion I was moving upwards. When a small light appeared in the distance, I didn’t know if I would sob in relief, or stand frozen in fear. On either side of me were thick walls of impenetrable damp stone. I had brushed a hand across most of it during my journey and had felt no dips or turns. I either moved forward or found myself backtracking towards a place that held no compassion for me.
Cautiously, I moved towards the light, reminding myself that anything else that may be using this tunnel, was probably also escaping.
The light turned out to be nothing more than a faint ember. One that flickered in and out of view as the head of a lighter was clicked on and off. I locked eyes with the flame, however, still moving towards it. When I saw it hover near the familiar soggy end of a cigarette, I came to a stop.
“So,” Milo started. “You escaped. Well done.”
I swallowed. “You.”
“Me.”
“You were down here the entire time?”
“A good few yards ahead of you, but yeah. Boy, can you run fast. Thought for sure you’d barrel into me a few times.”
I stared at him, the curls of his hair illuminated in dark strands across his forehead, the skin peeking from behind his ridiculously open shirt dancing with shadow from his own lighter.
[[Are you going to take me back?]]
[[Where are you taking me?]]
[[Are you going to kill me?]]
The world felt muffled and drowsy as my feet continued to plod through the dark after a relative stranger. Perhaps I should have thanked him. Or maybe I should have run. But I found myself unable to do anything but follow because the reality was, I didn’t know where I was. The mechanics of what I had seen were all familiar. The sky was night, the beach was cold, and the sand was coarse against my skin. I understood the words spoken to me with clarity and while some of the forms around me seemed unreal, they were not unfamiliar in the sense that I had never seen it before.
Yet, despite all of this, none of it fit.
It was like I could see what was before me and categorize it properly, but nothing quite stuck together the way it should have in my empty brain. Everything was shaped too large or oblong and didn’t fall neatly into a designated box. None of it conformed with the rules of the world that I thought I knew.
Then again, the world I thought I knew seemed to be slipping from me with every step I took.
Stumbling, I hit against the tunnel wall with a loud smack, feeling the flesh of my palms slice open in thin ribbons. This was supposed to be a dream. Something vivid and slightly horrible, but one I would tell to my friends over a drink that evening. But as the dream kept going and the stakes became higher, I never woke up. At some point, I had been forced to admit that what I was seeing was my reality, and the danger I was in was very very real.
[[Get ahold of yourself]]
[[Succumb to panic]]
[[Become angry at the world you find yourself in]]Through a series of entirely unlucky events, somehow, a small glimmer of hope had come about in the form of this man. Life had a way of sometimes throwing those small grains of hope in the path of what looked like convoluted despair. I was just fortunate that I had recognized it when I did.
“Thank you,” I told him. It felt like such a hollow thing to say considering what he had done. “I don’t… obviously, I don’t have any money or anything like that. I’m not sure how I can repay you.”
“Don’t worry about it. Money’s the last thing I need. Besides, Night Market doesn’t really deal in money. It’s more service based.”
The world tilted with a hazy edge. It wasn’t the first time I heard that name. Everyone said it with such reverence, and I couldn’t imagine why.
“You’ll get used to things,” he continued, unaware of the way my hand stretched out to steady myself.
“I don’t want to get used to things,” I said. I could feel my words skitter like broken pebbles around us. “This isn’t my home. I don’t even know where my home is anymore. I just have a handful of missing memories, and no matter how much I try to tell people that, they keep on talking like I should understand the way my world works now. But this doesn’t feel real. None of this does. I literally woke up in an alley and had a bag shoved over my head. Who does that?”
My breath came out in ragged pants around us as a cold sweat began to soak the collar of my shirt. Milo stopped, looking at me carefully.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Now that most of the danger had seemed to pass, I could feel myself beginning to shake with the panic of it all. I had thought this to be a dream. Something vivid and horrible, but one I would tell to my friends over a drink the next evening. But as the dream kept going and the stakes became higher, I never woke up. At some point, I had been forced to admit that what I was seeing was my reality, and the danger I was in was very very real.
[[Get ahold of yourself]]
[[Succumb to panic]]
[[Become angry at the world you find yourself in]]“Forgive me if I’m finding it hard to trust today.”
He laughed. It was a sound that was oddly comforting in the dark. It eased some of the tension I hadn’t realized was gathering in my spine. While the man before me looked as if he meant me no harm, I still remained wary. I was thankful he was walking ahead instead of standing at my back.
“Fair,” he said. “Very fair. And before you ask, I’m not looking for payment of any sort for helping you break out.”
“Good, because I have no money.” I had been deposited here with only the clothes on my back. They seemed ill fitting however and were now caked in dirt and sand.
“Night Market doesn’t really deal in money. More service.”
I screwed my face up at that. Thus far, everyone seemed to be speaking as if I should know their terms and conditions. No one had stopped to tell me what the hell was going on. No one was explaining where I was or why or even how such a place existed. “Everyone keeps saying that. Night Market.”
“It’s just what we refer to this place as. Don’t think it has a proper name,” he said.
“But I don’t even know where here is,” I started. My voice echoed through the surrounding tunnel. “This isn’t my home. This isn’t even anywhere near my home. Everyone keeps looking at me and saying the damn term Night Market as if I should not only know what that means, but somehow live within its rules. I literally woke up in an alley and had a bag shoved over my head. Who does that?”
My breath came out in ragged pants around us as a cold sweat began to soak the collar of my shirt. Milo stopped, looking at me carefully.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Now that most of the danger had seemed to pass, I could feel myself beginning to shake with the panic of it all. I had thought this to be a dream. Something vivid and horrible, but one I would tell to my friends over a drink the next evening. But as the dream kept going and the stakes became higher, I never woke up. At some point, I had been forced to admit that what I was seeing was my reality, and the danger I was in was very very real.
[[Get ahold of yourself]]
[[Succumb to panic]]
[[Become angry at the world you find yourself in]]My back hit the tunnel wall with a muffled thud, and the coolness of the stone seeped through my thin shirt. Cold sweat beaded upon my forehead, slipping down to pool against the dip of my collar bone. Beneath me, my feet felt numb and useless, refusing to step even an inch further despite being so close to freedom. Or at least freedom from the pens I had escaped from.
Pressing the palm of my hand to my eyes, I took a deep breath, slowly sucking the air in and out, in and out, waiting for the walls to stop moving and for my own heart to come back to a calm staccato.
“Easy,” I heard Milo soothe, yet his voice sounded far away. It wasn’t until I felt gentle hands on my shoulder that I opened my eyes again. Honey brown ones looked back at me in concern. “You alright?”
Up close, I could smell the spice from his cologne. Cardamom and something sweet like pipe tobacco or vanilla. Behind me, I felt something shift, realizing I had landed against an old wood door. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a burnt out light hanging just off to the right.
Swallowing, I blinked at him, my eyelids feeling sticky and my movements sluggish. “It’s just– this is all a lot,” I explained.
He nodded and whether he understood I really didn’t care. Now that the imminent danger had passed, I felt myself succumbing to exhaustion. A look that must have shown clearly on my face, despite the darkness around us.
“We need to get you some place you can rest.”
Rest. It suddenly looked like an old and broken down couch with a threadbare rug beneath. Curled up against a warm body, beneath a heavy blanket. I wondered if it was a memory of simply a desire.
“Come on.” He didn’t let go of me until he knew I was steady on my feet. “Not much further, and then we’ll be out into the city proper. I’m going to take you up into the middle of the Spice District. They have some of the best damn dumplings around.”
“Won’t they be looking for me?” I fell against him a little as I struggled to convince my legs to work. If he cared, he didn’t show any sign of it.
“Velvet Guard isn’t going to give two shits about you now that you are out of the docks. We’ll get you some papers, and you’ll be able to wander free. If anyone gives you any trouble again, you just need to flash them some dead tree’s, and they’ll be on their merry way.”
“This is insane,” I muttered. “I may have gone insane.”
“I hear ya on that,” he said. “But I think we’re all just a little insane here.”
“That’s not comforting.” My cheeks felt heated, but the vice around my lungs was beginning to ebb. I latched onto his voice as my only savior, concentrating on it as the ground sloped upwards and the air around me cooled.
“Come on, a new day awaits. And by day I mean night. Get it? Night Market?” The boyish charm that seemed such a part of his smile fell away at the pained look I was giving him. “Right. Serious. No time for jokes. Not now when we are questioning our sanity.”
I sighed. “Just lead the way.”
He gave me a salute and a stomp of his foot, but turned and continued to walk.
[[Next|To the Night Market]]“Whoa, whoa. Easy.” I hadn’t realized I had stopped walking until gentle hands fell on my shoulders. I was gasping, sucking in mouthfuls of air that felt sticky against my throat. “Deep breaths,” Milo said. “In and out, alright?”
Damp air filled my lungs. Walls that had seemed so solid before now felt as if they were pressing against me from every which way and my body seemed directionless. The weight of Milo’s palms on my shoulders felt like the only thing keeping me from flying utterly apart. His thumbs drew soothing circles near my collar bone and for a moment, I nearly tipped forward with fatigue, my eyes drooping with the exhaustion of the day.
“We need to get you some place you can rest,” he said quietly.
I laughed. The idea alone seemed like an unattainable one. “I was resting,” I murmured. “On an old green couch with patches. A thick blanket on top of me.”
“What?” I didn’t know where it had come from and the very idea of the unbidden worlds caused hysterical laughter to bubble from my throat. “Come on.” He ignored the nonsensical thoughts spilling from my mouth. I couldn’t even blame him. Instead, he pushed me forward a bit, ensuring my legs could still support me on their own. “Not much further, and then we’ll be out into the city proper. I’m taking you up right to the middle of the Spice District, and they have some of the best damn dumplings around.”
“Velvet Guard isn’t going to give two shits about you now that you are out of the docks. We’ll get you some papers, and you’ll be able to wander free. If anyone gives you any trouble again, you just need to flash them some dead tree’s, and they’ll be on their merry way.”
“This is insane,” I muttered. “I may have gone insane.”
“I hear ya on that,” he said. “But I think we’re all just a little insane here.”
“That’s not comforting.” My cheeks felt heated, but the vice around my lungs was beginning to ebb. I latched onto his voice as my only savior, concentrating on it as the ground sloped upwards and the air around me cooled.
“Come on, a new day awaits. And by day I mean night. Get it? Night Market?” The boyish charm that seemed such a part of his smile fell away at the pained look I was giving him. “Right. Serious. No time for jokes. Not now when we are questioning our sanity.”
I sighed. “Just lead the way.”
He gave me a salute and a stomp of his foot, but turned and continued to walk.
[[Next|To the Night Market]]“I fucking hate this.” It burst from me with a force as I lashed out, smacking my fist against the wall. It echoed hollowly as I realized I was standing by a door. A locked piece of wood that existed alone somewhere in the dark.
“Whoa, whoa. Easy.” Milo started, hands in the air as if soothing a wild beast. “No one blames you for that, darlin’.”
Damp air filled my lungs. Walls that had seemed so solid before now felt as if they were pressing against me from every which way and my body seemed directionless.
“I don’t understand,” I told him. “How does someone just lose their memories and no one notices? I mean, do I have a family out there? Anyone that cares for me? Is anyone even looking for me?”
Milo didn’t answer. How could he really? He was just as much at a loss to my identity as I was. “We need to get you some place you can rest,” he told me. “Maybe something will come back then.”
Rest. It struck a chord in me, visions of a home that was blurred around the edges coming to mind. “A green couch,” I said quickly. “I think I have a green couch. It’s ugly but it’s mine.”
Milo quirked a brow towards me. “Well then, we got something in common. Because I also have an ugly green couch.”
I didn’t know where it had come from and the very idea of the unbidden worlds caused hysterical laughter to bubble from my throat.
“And a blanket. One that’s heavy and kind of smells like– like almonds?” I was trying so hard to keep a hold of the watery senses but they were blurring far to quickly until they were nothing once more.
“Come on.” Milo ignored the nonsensical thoughts spilling from my mouth. I couldn’t even blame him. Instead, he pushed me forward a bit, ensuring my legs could still support me on their own. “Not much further, and then we’ll be out into the city proper. I’m taking you up right to the middle of the Spice District, and they have some of the best damn dumplings around.”
“Velvet Guard isn’t going to give two shits about you now that you are out of the docks. We’ll get you some papers, and you’ll be able to wander free. If anyone gives you any trouble again, you just need to flash them some dead tree’s, and they’ll be on their merry way.”
“This is insane,” I muttered. “I may have gone insane.”
“I hear ya on that,” he said. “But I think we’re all just a little insane here.”
“That’s not comforting.” My cheeks felt heated, but the vice around my lungs was beginning to ebb. I latched onto his voice as my only savior, concentrating on it as the ground sloped upwards and the air around me cooled.
“Come on, a new day awaits. And by day I mean night. Get it? Night Market?” The boyish charm that seemed such a part of his smile fell away at the pained look I was giving him. “Right. Serious. No time for jokes. Not now when we are questioning our sanity.”
I sighed. “Just lead the way.”
He gave me a salute and a stomp of his foot, but turned and continued to walk.
[[Next|To the Night Market]]
Musty underground gave way to something warm and herbaceous as the air grew lighter and the walls became more defined. I felt the day settle heavily against my shoulders as I walked side by side with this stranger, the two of us navigating the rest of the way through the tunnel in relative silence.
What exactly had happened to me remained unclear, and I had a feeling it would take some time to unravel. Transported from what I assumed had been my home and tossed within a world that so far seemed dark and unwelcoming, I was now left with nothing other than the firm belief that I did not belong here. Thus far, my only point of contact that had stuck around was a man half dressed and with a mop of hair in desperate need of a comb. I had no money. No place to stay. And no indication of who I was.
The odds were not looking well, yet despite this, I no longer felt as if they were as dire.
Cracked asphalt began to appear in patches beneath our feet, with struggling bits of moss and dandelions growing from the crevices. As the tunnel widened, the pavement became smoother, until the sound of boisterous conversation reached my ears. I could hear laughter and could feel the steady pound of moving feet reverberate across the ground, a thrum that called me forward.
We burst out into a city street, the tunnel ending abruptly to open into a market lined alleyway filled to the brim with bustling people and savory smelling food. Ramshackle stalls lined either side of the passage before us, as sweaty men and women stood behind their counters, serving food and selling small pouches of flavorful smelling spices. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. Overhead, paper lanterns swayed softly, casting the alley in hues of orange and pink, while bright fires roared in hearths with simmering pots. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Milo turned to me with a broad grin, his arms spreading wide. A few people shuffled around him, tossing him halfhearted glares before continuing their conversation, side skirting the tunnel we had just emerged from.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking around at the vibrant vision displayed before me.
As I looked at Milo, blinking under the filtered paper light from above, I watched as he tilted his head back with a grin. “Welcome to the Night Market.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Milo tunnel escape]]“I am,” I said. Though I had no cigarette on me. Nor a lighter. “Needed some fresh air. Getting a little stuffy in there tonight.”
I tried to keep my body loose as I continued the rest of the way down those steps. As if my pause was nothing more than the overwhelming relief of fresh air. There was a possibility I could move past them with nothing more than a quick pleasantry. If they pushed, I could feign drunken stupor and claim I forgot my cigarettes inside.
“Join us,” the lanky man said. He was scrawny and his coat looked as if it belonged to a much more stout gentleman. The cuffs were stretched up past his wrists, the right sleeve missing a golden button. The glowing lamplight and fire lit torches of the beach were absent within the alley, and I couldn’t make out his features past the basics, but the crack in his voice had definitely confirmed my suspicions that he was no more than a kid.
[[Join them]]
[[Decline and move past them]]“I’m just headed home,” I said, taking the last few steps down to the alley. I gave them a brief nod, trying to discern if I could move past them or not.
“From here?” The taller one asked.
I looked over my shoulder at the now closed door to the saloon. “Busy night out at the docks,” I commented. “Didn’t want to deal with all the people after having a bit to drink.”
The man chuckled at that, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a swig. “I hear ya there. Docks are ridiculous tonight. Don’t know what new blood they got caged up in there, but must be something good.”
The portly man shook his head. “Nah, it’s not that. It’s the Dollmaker. Wiped out half the work crew in another one of his tantrums. Everyone’s looking for healthy replacements.”
The bottle was passed between the three of them, but they still stood, an unmoving force between me and my way out.
“Well, it looks like there are plenty to choose from tonight,” I said, hoping for some sort of end to the ‘pleasantries’ so I could move on. I walked forward, willing for them to move. When none of them did, my steps faltered.
“Sorry. I hate to do this to you. I know we’re off work and all, but I’m going to have to ask for your identification papers.” The tall man, the one who looked barely more than a kid, passed off the bottle to mustache and held out his hand for my forms.
[[Continue to lie about your papers|Lie about your papers]]
[[Fight your way to freedom|Fight solo route]]
[[Try to continue on your way]]I smiled at them, shoving my hands in my pocket and trying to look unassuming. They were nothing more than a couple of drunk men off work. Nothing to worry about.
Taking the steps down, I moved to walk past them, hoping that as I approached they would shift out of the way. They remained a brick wall, the scent of rum heavy on their breath. I cringed inwardly. This was not going to go well.
“Where are you going, mate?” The taller kid asked, handing off the bottle. “Not quite normal for someone to be out back here. Especially with all the excitement out at the docks.”
I didn’t answer him. I didn’t even know how. I was unclear how much of the docks were sanctioned to people milling about or if I had even been marked in some way before being shoved into the pen. For all I knew, they already knew I was supposed to be one of their bail prisoners and were just having me on.
“You got your identification papers on you?” The one with the mustache asked.
[[Lie about your papers]]
[[Try to continue on your way]]I looked at them for a beat before shrugging. “Sure. Nice night. Could use a bit of company.” Inside, I was screaming. I could see the silver lengths of swords belted at their waist and while I had yet to see one of them use their weapons, it didn’t mean I wanted to put that theory to a test.
The taller man passed me the bottle, gesturing for me to take a drink. I raised it to my lips and took a small swig. The rum flooded my tongue in notes of toasted sugar and oats. I didn’t dare drink enough to do anything but paint my breath, but it seemed to be enough to satisfy the group before me.
“What are you all doing out here?” I asked, not wishing to let the silence linger. “I would think with everything going on out front it would be all hands on deck.”
The shorter one laughed loudly, bouncing his mustache up and down, along with his belly. He composed himself quickly at his companion's looks. The bigger of the three rolled his eyes at him, leaning against the discolored slats of the saloon walls.
“Supposed to be,” he said. “If Caine had anything to do with it, we’d be doing the whole song and dance out there. But the fucking Warden has a stick shoved up his ass on most days, and we’re just a bit sick of dealing with his shit, you know?”
The Warden. Caine. It was definitely the man who escorted me to the pens. Ass stick and all. I nodded in understanding. “I hear ya. Men like that aren’t exactly the best to work under.”
“You got a boss like that?”
[[I used to work for the guard]]
[[Yeah. A long time ago]]
[[Work for myself now]]“Oh, uh. Not tonight. Thanks. I really need to get going.” I didn’t want to linger. If I just kept my head down and remained uninteresting, they would have to let me pass. The hand that gripped me when I tried to step around them though was firm.
“Can I see your identification papers?” The bigger of the men asked. He appeared fairly sober, unlike the other two.
My papers. I balked at that. “Afraid I misplaced them,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said with a nervous laugh. “You know how it goes.”
“Lay off them, man. How many times have you lost your papers?” I could have kissed mustache. As it was, I was holding my breath when it came to the bulky stranger that still held me within his grasp.
But something fell across his face at his companions' words. “Alright,” he said. “We can do it the other way, if you like.”
I cleared my throat. “The other way?”
“Yeah. Lot of people have been slipping on through the gates that haven’t been invited. They got no business here. So, just prove to me that you belong here in the Night Market, and I’ll let it go for tonight. Don’t really want to be working right now anyway,” he held up the half empty bottle in explanation.
Prove I lived in the Night Market. Sure. Prove that I live in a place that I was thrown in and had, thus far, only seen the seedy underbelly of their trafficking. I could do that.
“Anything in particular you want to know?”
“Dealer’s choice,” the man said with a shrug. His grip had not loosened on my arm.
[[Tell him about the warden]]
[[Tell him about the eels]]
[[Tell him the truth]]I tried not to show panic. “Sure. Not a problem,” I said. I made a show of patting down my newly stolen jacket, reaching inside each pocket as if I would miraculously find them. When it was clear I was coming up empty, I frowned, laughing nervously a little. “I uh- I seem to have left them at home.
Mustache laughed. “Done that before.” He quickly shut up though as the taller kid smacked him in the stomach, looking nervously at the bulky guard next to them. The one obviously in charge.
“Hell of a night to be without them,” the bigger guy said. “Especially given the crowd that’s out there. One might start to think something else is going on.”
I swallowed. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I came here for a drink and…”
“Aw, lay of them,” Mustache piped up. “Just because you’ve been busted a few times this month doesn’t mean you get to pick on someone else. Show a little compassion.”
I could have kissed mustache if I wasn’t trying to hide that I was sweating so profusely.
“Alright,” the man conceded. “We can do it the other way, if you like.”
I cleared my throat. “The other way?”
“Yeah. I lost my papers twice this month. No one can be expected to have it on them at all times. So, I’ll trust ya. Just prove to me that you belong here in the Night Market, and I’ll let it go for tonight. Don’t really want to be working right now anyway,” he held up the half empty bottle in explanation.
Prove I lived in the Night Market. Sure. Prove that I live in a place that I was thrown in and had, thus far, only seen the seedy underbelly of their trafficking. I could do that.
“Anything in particular you want to know?”
“Dealer’s choice,” the man said with a shrug. His grip had not loosened on my arm.
[[Tell him about the warden]]
[[Tell him about the eels]]
[[Tell him the truth]]“Look, I really don’t have time for this,” I said, trying to muscle my way past them. The bigger guy grabbed me by the arm, pushing me back towards the dingy side of the building.
“Nope. You know the drill.”
“I’m just trying to get home.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie.
“Don’t doubt it,” Mustache said, perking up a little whenI didn’t immediately comply. “But this here alley is for business owners only. Not for taking a shortcut home.”
I looked between the three of them, wondering if I could outrun them all.
“Your papers,” the big guy asked again.
[[Fight your way past them|Fight solo route]]
[[Tell him the truth]]
[[Run|Run solo route]]“The one you’re talking about, actually,” I stated boldly.
The men froze for a moment, the bottle hanging halfway towards the short one's lips. “You don’t look like you’re part of the Velvet Guard.”
“I’m not. Freelance,” I said. “Not enough warm bodies are being brought into the pens and capital is down. I bring them in without having to go through the red tape you guys have to.”
They eyed me suspiciously. Each of them exchanging small looks from beneath wary eyes. “Why have I never heard of you, then?” the bigger man asked.
“I doubt the illegal runner taking people off the streets is someone you would hear a lot about,” I laughed mirthlessly. When they didn’t join in, I let my smile freeze before allowing it to slowly crack in a display of dawning horror. “Wait. Are you three serious? You haven’t been told what’s going on?”
Dumbly, they shook their heads.
“Oh shit. I… I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I tried to move past them and the three of them stumbled somewhat out of the way. I could see the alley stretching before me. Freedom. It had to be. After tonight. After everything I had been through. There had to be freedom on the other side.
“Wait,” it was the taller man that called out. The one that looked as if he should still be sitting at his mama’s table. I froze, trying not to hunch my shoulders. “Are we about to be out of a job?”
[[I don't know. I'm just doing my job]]
[[Department is going to get cut. I’m sorry]]The genuine concern in their eyes made me feel the slightest bit bad. Mainly because I knew these were men that were going to have to go into work tomorrow, realizing they had either been duped, or living in genuine fear that they were about to lose their paycheck. Then again, they weren’t the ones in danger of being thrown in a cage and sold to the highest bidder.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job here. Afraid I don’t know much about the Velvet Guard.” I tried to continue on down the alley, hoping they would drop it. They either weren’t drunk enough or I was not a good enough liar, because the taller one began to follow me.
“Hey, what did you say your name was again?” I didn’t answer. Which was probably another mistake in a long line of many; the first being that I even tried to fool these men to begin with. “I’m going to have to ask for your papers.”
[[Run|Run solo route]]
[[Fight|Fight solo route]]Slowly, I turned, my expression sympathetic while my eyes ticked nervously about. I made a show of trying to see who was listening before stepping back towards them. “Look, the Velvet Guard will never just go away,” I started. I could hear my own words and was unaware of even where I was going with them. I just hoped it was good. “But, the need for your order isn’t as widespread anymore. Yes, they need guards to wander about and impose order, but when it comes to getting people in the pens, my kind are much more efficient.”
“How many of you have they employed?” Mustache looked down right mad now, eyeing me as if he was willing to drag me to his boss and demand some answers. Wouldn’t that be ironic.
“I don’t know. Dozens? It’s all very hush hush. But I can tell you that they are only going to keep the guards that excel at their duties. The rest of them are going to get turned loose and quick.”
The kid began to panic. “Gil, I can’t do that. I can’t. I got a baby on the way. I need this job.”
Gil, clearly the leader of the bunch, had a pinched look upon his face. He reached out and gave a compulsory pat to the panicked kid's shoulders, but his expression was elsewhere. “I know. I… fuck.” He looked at me, handing me the bottle. “Here. Have it. We better get back out front before the Warden see’s us missing. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Yeah. Not a problem. Thanks for the booze.”
And just like that, they were disappearing through the heavy stone door, leaving me alone in the alley way.
I held my breath for a solid minute after they had gone, sure that they would burst back through and call me a liar. When they didn’t and the cool air continued to sooth my reddened cheeks, I started to feel a shaky amount of relief course through me. I had done it. Somehow, I had done it.
Turning, I didn’t look back. I ran through the alley and continued running, my head filled with a silent scream but the taste of freedom mingling with the strong tang of the drunken rum. It no longer mattered where I was headed, just that I was far from whatever horror lay behind me. But as I turned down a narrow passage, I felt myself slide short.
A woman was walking towards me. Ginger hair fell in perfect waves across her pale shoulder, her lips bright crimson and gleaming wetly even in the dark. She wore a dress that seemed to be made of shadows. Clinging to her like smoke and slitting high up either thigh where it was banned at her hip with leather cords.
I froze.
“Evening,” she said. Her steps did not falter as she stepped past me, down where I had just run from. I could see her golden eyes glint in the dark.
I scarcely breathed as she slipped by, only nodding my head at her with a frozen smile on my lips that I hoped she wouldn’t think too much of. As the sounds of her stiletto heels clicked down the alleyway and into the night, I let out a sigh of relief.
“I’d get those papers, if I were you,” her lilting voice came from all around. “Never know who is lurking around the corner.”
Turning, I stared down the alley with wide eyes. But she was nowhere to be seen. Even the echoing sound of her steps had been swallowed by the silence. I didn’t wait. As the world around me fell into a quiet calm, I refused to wait for another soul to come meandering my way.
Hurriedly, I made it down the alleyway, searching for a way into the Night Market.
[[Chapter Two|Solo stab]]I ran. For the second time that night, I took off and tried not to look back as I made my way down a dirty alleyway of broken cobblestones and forgotten trash. I could hear the men behind me as I twisted and turned around each bend, the alcohol in their system not slowing them down. Hopping over a broken crate, I tried to find a place to hide, veering off into any alleywayI could when I saw the opportunity. It didn’t matter. They were only inches from my heels, and my legs were burning with exertion.
When the taller man knocked into me from behind, I went down, skidding against the dirty pavement and feeling the warmth of blood burst across my stomach and arm. I twisted in his hold, trying to kick out but to no avail. He was bigger than me in every way and now, up close, I could see a banded tattoo that ran up the side of his arm, glowing faintly.
I tried to scramble away, my fingers digging into the cobbled stones beneath me, but the man had me pulled up into a hold with little effort. I screamed, letting my voice echo out in some hope that someone would hear me, but as my head hit the stone fence that hugged either side of the alley, I saw white. Blood rushed in front of my eyes, obscuring my vision as vomit rolled through my stomach. I clawed at the arms around me but could feel myself beginning to slip.
As the world became dark, a laugh burst from my lips. Perhaps this was what I needed. Maybe this was all just a bad dream after all and I would wake up tucked away in a loft bed somewhere with the scent of hay coming in from the open window.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
Something ashy filled the air. I tried to open my eyes to see what was going on, but I only felt the grip of the man holding me fall away completely and the cool, pungent scent of a dirty alleyway now smashed beneath my face.
I could hear a few muffled words exchanged and a cut off cry that was guttural and wet. Then the world went silent for a long moment. Not even the tap of retreating feet filled my ears. Just the distant murmur of the bail block and the ending notes to a song somewhere inside the saloon.
“Can you walk?” Cool hands cupped my face, tipping my head upwards. A swath of ginger hair fell into view, along with a pair of crimson lips. I tried to answer but felt a stab of pain in my chest and my world tilt with a smear.
The woman sighed, laying my head back down in the alley. “Pity.”
Something sharp and bestial screamed in my ears then, causing me to jerk my hands over my face as if to protect myself. A flutter of what felt like wings skidded across my back and something akin to sulfur permeated the surrounding air.
The last thing I saw before I passed out was the guard, the one who looked like a kid, nodding reverently to the shadows before scooping me up.
A cool finger touched my face then, just as I slipped away. “Welcome to the Night Market, dear heart. May your time here sway from the eternal.”
[[Chapter Two|Solo stab]]Panic raced through me. The taller one was obviously not drunk enough to be fooled like the others. “Yeah, sure. I got them right here,” I lied, patting down my coat pockets. The man stepped closer. I could see banded tattoos starting at his wrist and disappearing into the sleeves of his coat. They glowed gently in the dim light of the narrow alley.
Curling my hand within my pocket, I waited for the man to get close before I swung. Yanking my hand from the stolen jacket I lashed out, hitting the man right beneath the nose and feeling his teeth split the flesh of my knuckles. The man’s head snapped back but he seemed undeterred by the violence and only blinked, wiping away the blood spurting from his nose.
“Right then.” He drew his sword without question, swiping it outwards. I jumped back, curling my body away from the point. With the stone fencing on either side of me and the saloons blocking any passage back to the streets, I had little to no option but to fight or run.
Ducking, I spun out of the way of the next swipe, eyeing the other two men as they began to come up from behind. All of this for some papers.
[[Continue to fight]]
[[Run|Run solo route]]I lashed out, making sure to jump out of the way with each twist and parry, feeling the edge of the blade catch my shirt. My fists connected with the man again, knocking him to the side and sending the sword clattering to the ground. I scrambled forward. If I could just get to the weapon, I would have the upper hand.
The knife from one of his friends sank into my side with a tearing push.
I fell to my knees, white pain lashing up my spine and lingering like a scream inside my head. I didn’t feel the kick to my ribs or the way I fell to the floor. Just the way the blade dug into me, sliding to the left as I rolled instinctively to try and stay out of the way of the booted heel that stomped down on my hand.
As the world became dark, a laugh burst from my lips. Perhaps this was what I needed. Maybe this was all just a bad dream after all and I would wake up tucked away in a loft bed somewhere with the scent of hay coming in from the open window.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
Something ashy filled the air. I tried to open my eyes to see what was going on, but I only felt the grip of the man holding me fall away completely and the cool, pungent scent of a dirty alleyway now smashed beneath my face.
I could hear a few muffled words exchanged and a cut off cry that was guttural and wet. Then the world went silent for a long moment. Not even the tap of retreating feet filled my ears. Just the distant murmur of the bail block and the ending notes to a song somewhere inside the saloon.
“Can you walk?” Cool hands cupped my face, tipping my head upwards. A swath of ginger hair fell into view, along with a pair of crimson lips. I tried to answer but felt a stab of pain in my chest and my world tilt with a smear.
The woman sighed, laying my head back down in the alley. “Pity.”
Something sharp and bestial screamed in my ears then, causing me to jerk my hands over my face as if to protect myself. A flutter of what felt like wings skidded across my back and something akin to sulfur permeated the surrounding air.
The last thing I saw before I passed out was the guard, the one who looked like a kid, nodding reverently to the shadows before scooping me up.
A cool finger touched my face then, just as I slipped away. “Welcome to the Night Market, dear heart. May your time here sway from the eternal.”
[[Chapter Two|Solo stab]]“I did once,” I said, keeping my answers vague. This was nothing more than a conversation of pleasantries. If I kept my wits about me, I’d be able to go free in no time. “Is yours a real hard ass?” I asked, thinking of the man that escorted me down to the pens.
Mustache snorted. “You have no idea. Gabriel Caine. The poster boy for the Velvet Guard.”
“Is he in charge of it or something?” While the Warden had not worn the velvet uniform I had seen everyone else in, it was clear that he was a man commanding respect.
“Guess so. He says he has a boss but I’ve never seen ‘em.”
The kid shrugged a little. “Think he probably just answers to the Barons. If they can managed to come down from their ivory towers to do anything. At least Caine gets shit done.”
“Yeah,” the bigger guy agreed. “And he does it in the driest way possible. I swear to all that is holy, that man doesn’t know what laughter or a smile is. Must be a fucking bore in bed.”
Mustache raised a brow at that. “Thinking about him in bed, eh? All hard muscle and surly looks.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
I watched as the three bantered, the bottle being passed about. Taking one last swig, I nodded towards all of them. “Thanks for the drink, but I really should get going.”
When I made to move past them, the bigger guy frowned. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” I answered.
“That’s all trade routes down there. No houses.”
I swallowed. “I know a shortcut.”
The three of them exchanged a look, something significant passing between them. “Right,” big guy said. He handed the bottle off to the kid, rolling up his sleeves. “Mind if I see your identification papers?”
[[Run|Run solo route]]
[[Fight|Fight solo route]]
[[Tell them the truth]]My brain scrambled for an overheard piece of information or an observation that would be specific enough to buy my freedom. The limited amount of time I had pent within the Night Market had offered me nothing but fear and intimidation. Describing the bail block would have been too easy, and may have tipped me off as an escapee. The same with describing the process of getting to the pens itself.
The Warden, however, their //boss//, might be enough to ease their suspicions.
“Your Warden is a taciturn man who is incredibly bored and jaded with his job,” I started. The three men stared at me, the bottle they shared sloshing as they moved it to their lips. With an air of confidence I wasn’t sure I should be feeling, I continued.
“While he is a man of obvious position, he is stuck doing menial tasks like taking down prisoner stats for books and escorting others to the pens. An odd duty for a man who widely commands respect from his co-workers, or at the very least, intimidates them into acting with respect.” Not a single person had passed him without a nod of their head. While the Warden himself had walked through the tunnels and down the beach with barely any acknowledgement for anyone aside from myself, every individual we passed paused and waited for him to go by. Some with sneers on their face, but ones in which they hid with a ducked head.
“He never draws his sword unless he has to,” I continued. “Exudes confidence that borders on hubris. And his eyes glow silver when you’ve hit a particular nerve.”
I held my breath. That had to be enough. That had to be…
“Are you the one?” the kid asked. Mustache elbowed him in the side, eliciting a pained grunt from him.
“Huh?” I nearly kicked myself. Great job, $name. Give an eloquent lie like that and follow it up with a ‘huh?’
“It’s nothin’,” Mustache said. “An old story that the lads like to toss around about our Warden. Lost love and all that.”
The bigger of the three took another long drink. “They say someone stole his smile.” He rolled his eyes. “Bunch of romanticized bullshit if you ask me. But,” he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “That was way too much detail about a man I work with every day. I can’t say I could even produce that shit. So, other than me being incredibly curious with how you came up with all that, I’d say you live in the Night Market and you're free to go.”
Relief threaded through me as he gave a flourished bow and stepped out of the way. The alley that offered freedom looked narrow and under lit, but somehow it still felt safer than traversing back through the saloon and up the well-worn path towards the swaying lantern light.
“Have a nice night,” I said with a smile.
[[Next|Solo walk free]]Turning, I made my way quickly through the alley and continued my fast clip, my head filled with a silent scream but the taste of freedom mingling with the strong tang of the drunken rum. It no longer mattered where I was headed, just that I was far from whatever horror lay behind me. But as I turned down a narrow passage, I felt myself slide short.
A woman was walking towards me. Ginger hair fell in perfect waves across her pale shoulder, her lips bright crimson and gleaming wetly even in the dark. She wore a dress that seemed to be made of shadows. Clinging to her like smoke and slitting high up either thigh where it was banned at her hip with leather cords.
I froze.
“Evening,” she said. Her steps did not falter as she stepped past me, down where I had just run from. I could see her golden eyes glint in the dark.
I scarcely breathed as she slipped by, only nodding my head at her with a frozen smile on my lips that I hoped she wouldn’t think too much of. As the sounds of her stiletto heels clicked down the alleyway and into the night, I let out a sigh of relief.
“I’d get those papers, if I were you,” her lilting voice came from all around. “Never know who is lurking around the corner.”
Turning, I stared down the alley with wide eyes. But she was nowhere to be seen. Even the echoing sound of her steps had been swallowed by the silence. I didn’t wait. As the world around me fell into a quiet calm, I refused to wait for another soul to come meandering my way.
Hurriedly, I made it down the alleyway, searching for a way into the Night Market.
[[Chapter Two|Solo Route]]My brain scrambled for an overheard piece of information or an observation that would be specific enough to buy my freedom. The limited amount of time I had spent within the Night Market had offered me nothing but fear and intimidation. There had to have been something though, something I had seen that was obscure enough that only a resident of the Night Market might be able to describe.
“The eels,” I blurted.
The bigger man raised a brow. “Eels?”
“In the water. They were put there for jumpers.” The Warden had seemed quite proud to share that failsafe. Briefly, I did wonder how many had jumped before they had put something in place to dissuade them.
The bottle clinked gently as it was placed on the ground. All three men stood a bit straighter and I could see the kid's hand hovering over his weapon.
“Eels have moved in for the winter from a snowy port out east,” the big man said. “They do it for a few months every year to escape the cold. They’re not native here, and we certainly didn’t put them there. Warden just likes telling that tale to exert a little control over the ones he’s escorting down to the pens.”
I balked. The flashing blue water that had rolled into white capped waves roared in my ear as if it was still right behind me. As the three men stepped closer, I felt that familiar feeling begin to pound behind my ribcage. I had no other option.
[[Run|Run solo route]]
[[Try to fight your way to freedom|Fight solo route]]
[[Tell them the truth]]My brain scrambled for an overheard piece of information or an observation that would be specific enough to buy my freedom. The limited amount of time I had spent within the Night Market had offered me nothing but fear and intimidation. There had to have been something though, something I had seen that was obscure enough to denote my residency without raising suspicion.
As my shoulders slumped and my eyes fell shut, I knew that there wasn’t.
Maybe the fight had finally gone out of me. Or I simply knew that I was a terrible liar. When the truth started spilling from my mouth, I couldn’t even fault myself for my actions. I was backed into an impossible scenario, and I had never known a lie to make that any better.
“I don’t have papers,” I said. “I was arrested earlier by your guards and thrown into the pens. I managed to break out and because I have no idea where I am or what this world is, I blindly chose these bars to go through and hoped that I wouldn’t find an alleyway filled with the very people I’m running from.”
The three of them stared back at me, perhaps dumbfounded with my candor. When Mustache raised the bottle, I thought he would be taking a big swig of it. Instead, he offered it to me. I took it before I could think better, taking a larger swig than I should have. There was a small hope that it would numb any upcoming pain.
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re off duty,” Mustache was saying.
My eyes snapped open. I could see the bigger of the three look slightly annoyed at his companion, but he didn’t move to correct him either. The kid looked back and forth between the older men, clearly waiting for direction.
Mustache chuckled a bit as I handed the bottle back. “Anyone that can escape the Warden, the pens, and the bail block all in one go, isn’t going to be escorted back by a dottering old man. I got nothing to prove to my boss, and I don’t work for free.”
The bigger guy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just go,” he said to me. “Before I think better of it. And get some damn papers.”
A huff of air left me as I didn’t wait another beat. I slipped by the three of them without another word, huddling within the coat I had stolen. Behind me, I could hear Mustache chuckle a bit and the kid ask a quick succession of questions. I didn’t dare look back.
[[Next|Solo walk free]] ]]As my shoulders slumped and my eyes fell shut, I knew that there wasn’t.
Maybe the fight had finally gone out of me. Or I simply knew that I was a terrible liar. When the truth started spilling from my mouth, I couldn’t even fault myself for my actions. I was backed into an impossible scenario, and I had never known a lie to make that any better.
“I don’t have papers,” I said. “I was arrested earlier by your guards and thrown into the pens. I managed to break out and because I have no idea where I am or what this world is, I blindly chose these bars to go through and hoped that I wouldn’t find an alleyway filled with the very people I’m running from.”
The three of them stared back at me, perhaps dumbfounded with my candor. When Mustache raised the bottle, I thought he would be taking a big swig of it. Instead, he offered it to me. I took it before I could think better, taking a larger swig than I should have. There was a small hope that it would numb any upcoming pain.
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re off duty,” Mustache was saying.
My eyes snapped open. I could see the bigger of the three look slightly annoyed at his companion, but he didn’t move to correct him either. The kid looked back and forth between the older men, clearly waiting for direction.
Mustache chuckled a bit as I handed the bottle back. “Anyone that can escape the Warden, the pens, and the bail block all in one go, isn’t going to be escorted back by a dottering old man. I got nothing to prove to my boss, and I don’t work for free.”
The bigger guy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just go,” he said to me. “Before I think better of it. And get some damn papers.”
A huff of air left me as I didn’t wait another beat. I slipped by the three of them without another word, huddling within the coat I had stolen. Behind me, I could hear Mustache chuckle a bit and the kid ask a quick succession of questions. I didn’t dare look back.
[[Next|Solo walk free]]“I work for myself,” I said. “Found it to be a much more fulfilling.”
“Yeah?” the kid asked, a tad bit eager. “What do you do?”
I had nothing. Out of all the jobs I could have pulled from my head I was drawing a blank. Silently, I willed myself to speak, to say //anything// but each time I tried to force the words past my lips, they stuck in my throat.
The men looked at me, watching the way I swayed. “Right,” the taller man said slowly. “Look, it’s been a long night and I really hate to do this to you. But do you think I could just see some identification papers? Flash them to me and you can be on your way.”
My fingers twitched at my side. Identification papers. Proof that I belonged in the market.
[[Run|Run solo route]]
[[Fight|Fight solo route]]
[[Tell them the truth]]The steps up to the saloons were worn by the constant onslaught of sea salt and heavy boots. I kept my head down, spying the velvet coats of the guards out of the corner of my eye. So far, no one seemed to have noticed I was gone. Or they didn’t care. Sidestepping a group of them up to their elbows in ale and some sort of card game, I ducked into the first saloon I could fit in, where the door was crooked but still operational.
The room was awash with music. A strange plinking noise came from a few minstrels emerging from a cloud of sweet smelling smoke. Round tables stained with stale ale and gun oil were filled to capacity as patrons gathered around, kicking dirty boots up and flinging their heads back in raucous laughter. Heat wove through the small room in sweltering waves, sending immediate pins of sweat dotting across my skin while the occasional scent of body odor told me that I was not alone in this state.
I wove my way through the loose-limbed bodies without anyone glancing my way. Outside people were being sold off, some for parts, but here they drank and ate, making merry while time allowed them to.
I pushed myself through the crowd, growing a bit bolder, knowing that I could not let my caution falter despite the relative air of heedless concern. There had to be a back door I could slip through. Some place much less in the open. As I passed a table full of drunken fauns, I grabbed a leather duster from the back of one of their chairs. It smelled of cigarette smoke and was three sizes too big, but I pulled it on as I made my way through the room, flipping the collar up.
Upon reaching the back, a narrow hallway loomed before me. I braced my hand on the wall to keep myself upright as the floor crept up towards the edge of the wall in a deep curve. I could hear the clanging of a kitchen and saw the bright lights from an open archway above. Next to it, was a large steel door, cracked open to ease some of the sweltering heat.
That was my way out.
Trying to remain as unassuming as possible, I bypassed the kitchen and pushed open the door. The relief that washed over me was immediate, ridding my skin of the stench of sweat and cigar smoke that now permeated my clothes. Three broken stone steps led me down onto a flat expanse of alley, the likes of which looked as if it meandered outwards and away from the saloon lined beach behind me.
A thick stone wall stood as a solid figure a good dozen paces away, fencing off the glowing lights that I could see swinging on the other side. In front of that, stood three guards, dressed in red velvet.
They stared back at me, an amber bottle clutched in the biggest one’s hand. Next to him, stood a portly man with a bristled mustache and a lanky kid that looked too young to be a part of any sort of guard.
“Evenin’.” The bristled mustache spoke first, his eyes tracing me in a way that was searching for weapons or some sort of threat. “Out for a smoke?”
[[(lie) Yes]]
[[(lie) Headed home, actually]]
[[Ignore them and try to move passed them]]I scrambled to the far back corner of the cage, my shoes coated with a thick layer of wet sand.
“Whaaaat caaaaan youuuuu dooo?”
I shook my head, unsure what the thing was asking of me. I knew within seconds that whatever this creature was, it was not the kind I wanted to be indentured to. Staying silent only felt like an invitation for it to continue to get closer to my cage. Continue to ask things of me. Despite the Warden’s suggestion, silence felt as if it made me more interesting. And that was something I did not want to present. But any words I may have spoken hit the back of my throat and turned to dust. I tried to gather them but there was nothing.
“Anssswerrr.” I felt something spear the base of my neck. Small needle like barbs dug into the soft flesh beneath my $haircolor hair and burrowed within me. My mouth opened in pain as I felt something cold trickle up through my jaw, passed my ears and towards my eyes. The flickering face before me turned cruel and spider-like, multiple eyes blinking in off beaten tandem as he materialized through the bars to right in front of me. I could feel his breath hot on my lips as his tongue flicked outwards and despite trying to scream, all I could do was sit there, paralyzed.
“Yoooooouuuuu willllll answerrrrr.”
“I can do whatever is needed,” I responded. My words felt dull. Not my own. They slipped from my lips like heavy drops of spit that splattered at our feet. The answer made the creature smile. A broad grin that looked as if it were to split his gray face in two with a swath of red.
“Goooood.”
And just like that, I could breathe. The thing was already wandering off, his steps slightly off kilter as he wove towards the next few cages, peering inside to see if he liked what he saw. I could feel my heart beat erratically against my chest. He would not be the one buying me. I could not let that happen. The Warden had said these were not the flesh pens, but I got the distinct impression that wasn’t always a mercy. Anyone could buy you here. And they could do whatever they wanted once they had you in their grasp.
[[Next|Hazel's entrance]]I moved far enough away so his tentacled hands couldn’t latch onto me. I felt my spine straighten as I faced whatever this creature was. I could not be afraid. If I wanted out of this hellscape, I needed to do it myself. There would be no one coming to rescue me when I was doing nothing worthy of rescuing.
“Are you buying?” I asked, tilting my chin upwards.
“Whaaaat caaaaan youuuuu dooo?”
“Many things,” I said. “What is it that you need?” The Warden had said to keep my mouth shut to ensure a good buyer, but it was clear to me that keeping my mouth shut might also land me with something like this. At least if I learned a little about this thing, I could possibly escape. I just needed someone to buy out my debt first. Then I could focus on how to get away from them.
“Eaaaaaat.”
I nodded cautiously. “You want me to cook for you?”
A grin spread across its face as it shook its head. “Eaaaat,” it moaned. Something pierced the base of my neck. Small needle like barbs dug into the soft flesh beneath my $haircolor hair and burrowed within me. My mouth opened in pain as I felt something cold trickle up through my jaw, passed my ears and towards my eyes. The flickering face before me turned cruel and spider-like, multiple eyes blinking in off beaten tandem as the creature materialized through the bars to get near my face. I could feel its breath hot on my lips as its tongue flicked outwards and despite trying to scream, all I could do was sit there, paralyzed.
“Smelllll goooood,” it purred.
Just as quickly as it got me in its grasp, it let me go, and I could breathe again. The thing was already wandering off, his steps slightly off kilter as he wove towards the next few cages, peering inside to see if he liked what he saw. My eyes were wide and my heart beat erratically against my chest. These may have not been the flesh pens, but it was clear that the title was a formality alone. Anyone could buy at the auction block. It was just here, they could pick their prey.
[[Next|Hazel's entrance]]My fingers curled around the tentacled appendages, twisting forcefully as the thing tried to grab me. I felt a small offshoot of it wrap around my wrist, pulsing against the sensitive skin. I didn’t balk, though. I didn’t even flinch.
“Back off,” I said.
If possible, its grin stretched into something mangled and split. Jagged teeth glinted beneath translucent skin thick with blue veins.
I don’t know how, but it moved into the cage with me, floating through the bars and pushing against me until I was pressed to the back slats. I kicked out, stomping on what I assumed was a foot. But it didn’t matter. The more I fought, the more excited this creature became.
Something pierced the base of my neck. Small needle like barbs dug into the soft flesh beneath my $haircolor hair and burrowed within me. My mouth opened in pain as I felt something cold trickle up through my jaw, past my ears and towards my eyes. The flickering face before me turned cruel and spider-like, multiple eyes blinking in off beaten tandem as it materialized through the bars to loom before me. I could feel its breath hot on my lips as its tongue flicked outwards. All I could do was stand there, paralyzed.
“Lovely,” it purred. It pressed a sticky cheek to mine, rubbing up against me like a cat. I struggled against the invisible hold, trying to lash out, to scream, to do anything but just sit there calmly. “I wiiiilllll buuuuuy yooouuuuu.”
Just as quickly as it had gotten a hold on me, it let me go, and I could breathe again. The thing was already wandering off, its steps slightly off kilter as it wove towards the next few cages, peering inside to see if it liked what it saw. My eyes were wide, and my heart beat erratically against my chest. These may have not been the flesh pens, but it was clear that the title was a formality alone. Anyone could buy at the auction block. It was just here, they could pick their prey.
[[Next|Hazel's entrance]]I couldn’t let that thing be my only bidder. With a renewed set of determination, or perhaps overwhelming fear, I stumbled towards the front of the cage. I began to seek out the man I had seen earlier. I was desperate enough that waving my hands about seemed like a viable option. But he was gone. His drinking buddies stood in various states of inebriation, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen.
“Shit,” I hissed.
Frantically, I looked out onto the trampled beach for a kind face. Any kind face would do. I just needed to find someone and then sell it to them that I was the right person for whatever job they needed. Though, as I looked around I was becoming increasingly aware just how out of my element I truly was. No one would want to buy someone that knew nothing of this world. I was going to be a complication. It was with sickening horror that I realized that was why the Warden had said to keep silent. I had a better shot at getting bought if it was based on my physical attributes alone.
“Hello!”
I jumped. A woman stood in front of me. Her tanned face was heart shaped and dotted with a strange white ink. Thick dark hair was gathered in a swath high on top of her head, and tied off with a bright kerchief that looked frayed around each visible edge.
I blinked at her, still shaken from my previous experience and almost certain that she would turn into a fiend if I got too close.
“You look strong? Are you strong? And by strong, I mean can you push a broom and carry a cauldron?” She blinked at me with dewy brown eyes. The bow of her mouth was turned into something pleasant and on a normal day, I would have smiled at her. But today had turned out to be anything but normal.
[[Talk to her. She looks kind]]
[[Shoo her away. She doesn't look like she has enough money]]
[[Stay silent like the Warden suggested]]“I…” I swallowed my words, hesitant to speak. But the woman before me didn’t look anything like the monster that I could see wobbling down the beach. In fact, in the sea of people before lingering about, she looked the most out of place.
“Oh,” she said softly, approaching the cage. “It’s okay. You look scared.”
The way her voice ticked lower, into a soft hush meant strictly for me, made the overwhelming ball of nerves in my gut from my previous encounter begin to unravel. There was an honesty to her face that was striking. With soft, downturned eyes and nervous wringing hands, she didn’t look to be the kind of person who should be perusing the contents of these cages.
Stepping forward, she locked eyes with me, as if to approach and sooth a wild animal as opposed to a prisoner of the bail block. Or maybe they were one in the same. “It’s going to be alright,” she said soothingly. “I know that the bail block can be pretty scary for a first timer, but I promise you, there are people here to help.”
Reaching inside the folds of her skirts, she brought out a wrapped parcel, handing it to me through the bars. “Are you hungry? You probably haven’t eaten much, have you.”
[[I was starving]]
[[Deny the food]]My stomach growled loudly at the smell of fresh baked bread. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten, and it took every bit of strength of will not to snatch it from her desperately. She seemed to understand that as she held her hand out a little more.
Slowly, I reached out and took the food. The warmth of it seeped through the calico print cloth it had been wrapped in.
“Thank you,” I told her, trying to give her a small smile.
“Manners,” she clapped her hands in delight. “Those are few and far between here.”
“So I’ve noticed,” I said, thinking of the Warden. I bit into the loaf of bread, nearly moaning at the taste. It was buttery and soft, and it sent my stomach clawing for more.
The woman waited until I gobbled everything down before speaking again, this time her tone was a bit more serious as she edged forward. Her eyes darted around, wary of eavesdroppers. I could see a few give her a sideways glance, but nothing more.
“You aren’t from here, are you?” she asked
I shook my head subtly, my eyes ticking around the busy beach.
<<if $introemotion == "scared">> “Please,” I whispered, swallowing thickly. I for some reason needed this woman to understand me. I need someone to acknowledge how terrifying all this was. “I just want to go home.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she took a step forward but I could see determination behind them. “Okay, say no more to that,” she said. “We can talk later when you are somewhere safe. I own a little shop. I can get you all set up there with a room until we find out where you are supposed to be.”
“Really?” My hands curled around the bars of the cage. I could scarcely believe that this woman was standing here, somehow willing to help me despite knowing nothing about me at all.
Reaching out, she curled her hand against my own. “What’s your name?”
“$name”
“$name,” she repeated softly. “I’m Hazel. And I promise you. I will get you home.” <<elseif $introemotion == "anger">>“Why is that the first thing that everyone seems to be asking me?” My voice was bordering on angry hysterics. “It’s obvious. I get it. But I did not sneak my way into this forsaken place. I just want to get home.” My voice was a hissed whisper towards this woman, each word etching her face in further concern.
“Okay, say no more to that,” she said. “We can talk later when you are somewhere safe. I own a little shop. I can get you all set up there with a room until we find out where you are supposed to be.”
I sighed tiredly, knowing I needed to retain control of myself for just a little while longer. When my hands curled around the bars of the cage, I let my forehead drop against them. I startled when I felt smooth fingers encircling my own.
“What’s your name?” She stood on the other side of the bars, her hands wrapped around mine, squeezing them tightly.
“$name”
“$name,” she repeated softly. “I’m Hazel. And I promise you. I will get you home.” <<elseif $introemotion == "confused">>
“I just need to get home,” I told her. “And I am willing to do what I need to if you can get me out of here.” While it sounded as if the woman needed heavy lifting done more than anything else, I was willing to go above and beyond if it meant safe passage away from this infested beach. The continuous sound of the gavel upon the bail block was beginning to make my head pound.
“Okay, say no more to that,” she said with a resolute nod. “We can talk later when you are somewhere safe. I own a little shop. I can get you all set up there with a room until we find out where you are supposed to be.”
I sighed tiredly, knowing I needed to retain control of myself for just a little while longer. When my hands curled around the bars of the cage, I let my forehead drop against them. “Thank you. I promise, I’ll help you in return.” I startled when I felt smooth fingers encircling my own.
“What’s your name?” She stood on the other side of the bars, her hands wrapped around mine, squeezing them tightly.
“$name”
“$name,” she repeated softly. “I’m Hazel. And I promise you. I will get you home.” <</if>>
“Looking for a new rat, Hazel?” A group of jeering creatures laughed loudly, clinking their drinks together. Hazel shriveled under the onslaught of it, kicking at the sand. “Oh, come on, witch. Nothing to say? You had a lot to say the last time around, didn’t ya?”
The man in question came sauntering over. He was nearly twice her height, covered in thick bands of tattoos that twisted beneath the sleeves of his tunic. I could smell the ale on him from my position within the cage and could see the stain of it on the front of his clothes. He slung an arm over the woman's shoulder, Hazel’s, leaning into her heavily. Hazel looked uncomfortable as she tried to shrug him away, but his hand had a tight grip upon her waist.
“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m just joking with you.”
“A joke I surely do not appreciate,” she said, turning her chin from him as he tried to nuzzle her close.
The man tsked but his smile was dangerous, his fingers drumming against her. “That brother of yours liked jokes. All kinds of jokes.”
At that, she curled out from under his arm, taking a few steps towards safety. The distance between them I doubted would do much to dissuade him.
[[Try to help her]]
[[Stay out of it|Hazel’s fight]]
“I’m not very hungry.” It was a lie. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten and the smell of fresh baked bread had my stomach complaining loudly. There was little doubt that I could keep any food down, and despite trusting the woman in front of me, I didn’t want to risk the deceit.
She nodded at me in understanding, tucking the bread away. “For later then.” Her voice was soft and reassuring, barely a whisper against an uproarious crowd. Behind her, the beach looked like a battlefield of deep footprints and dotted bonfires. The night of the bail block was more of a festival than anything else. At least for the ones outside of the pens.
“You aren’t from here, are you?” she asked
I shook my head subtly, my eyes ticking around the busy beach.
<<if $introemotion == "scared">> “Please,” I whispered, swallowing thickly. I for some reason needed this woman to understand me. I need someone to acknowledge how terrifying all this was. “I just want to go home.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she took a step forward but I could see determination behind them. “Okay, say no more to that,” she said. “We can talk later when you are somewhere safe. I own a little shop. I can get you all set up there with a room until we find out where you are supposed to be.”
“Really?” My hands curled around the bars of the cage. I could scarcely believe that this woman was standing here, somehow willing to help me despite knowing nothing about me at all.
Reaching out, she curled her hand against my own. “What’s your name?”
“$name”
“$name,” she repeated softly. “I’m Hazel. And I promise you. I will get you home.” <<elseif $introemotion == "anger">>“Why is that the first thing that everyone seems to be asking me?” My voice was bordering on angry hysterics. “It’s obvious. I get it. But I did not sneak my way into this forsaken place. I just want to get home.” My voice was a hissed whisper towards this woman, each word etching her face in further concern.
“Okay, say no more to that,” she said. “We can talk later when you are somewhere safe. I own a little shop. I can get you all set up there with a room until we find out where you are supposed to be.”
I sighed tiredly, knowing I needed to retain control of myself for just a little while longer. When my hands curled around the bars of the cage, I let my forehead drop against them. I startled when I felt smooth fingers encircling my own.
“What’s your name?” She stood on the other side of the bars, her hands wrapped around mine, squeezing them tightly.
“$name”
“$name,” she repeated softly. “I’m Hazel. And I promise you. I will get you home.” <<elseif $introemotion == "confused">>
“I just need to get home,” I told her. “And I am willing to do what I need to if you can get me out of here.” While it sounded as if the woman needed heavy lifting done more than anything else, I was willing to go above and beyond if it meant safe passage away from this infested beach. The continuous sound of the gavel upon the bail block was beginning to make my head pound.
“Okay, say no more to that,” she said with a resolute nod. “We can talk later when you are somewhere safe. I own a little shop. I can get you all set up there with a room until we find out where you are supposed to be.”
I sighed tiredly, knowing I needed to retain control of myself for just a little while longer. When my hands curled around the bars of the cage, I let my forehead drop against them. “Thank you. I promise, I’ll help you in return.” I startled when I felt smooth fingers encircling my own.
“What’s your name?” She stood on the other side of the bars, her hands wrapped around mine, squeezing them tightly.
“$name”
“$name,” she repeated softly. “I’m Hazel. And I promise you. I will get you home.” <</if>>
“Looking for a new rat, Hazel?” A group of jeering creatures laughed loudly, clinking their drinks together. Hazel shriveled under the onslaught of it, kicking at the sand. “Oh, come on, witch. Nothing to say? You had a lot to say the last time around, didn’t ya?”
The man in question came sauntering over. He was nearly twice her height, covered in thick bands of tattoos that twisted beneath the sleeves of his tunic. I could smell the ale on him from my position within the cage and could see the stain of it on the front of his clothes. He slung an arm over the woman's shoulder, Hazel’s, leaning into her heavily. Hazel looked uncomfortable as she tried to shrug him away, but his hand had a tight grip upon her waist.
“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m just joking with you.”
“A joke I surely do not appreciate,” she said, turning her chin from him as he tried to nuzzle her close.
The man tsked but his smile was dangerous, his fingers drumming against her. “That brother of yours liked jokes. All kinds of jokes.”
At that, she curled out from under his arm, taking a few steps towards safety. The distance between them I doubted would do much to dissuade him.
[[Try to help her]]
[[Stay out of it|Hazel’s fight]]“I…. look, sorry. Not to be rude. But I really need to find someone to buy my bail.” I hated saying those words more than anything. The woman was not the embodiment of the sort of person I needed in this situation. Despite my bluntness, she didn’t seem to get that, however.
“Well yes. So, again, hello.” This time she greeted me with a small wave.
I looked her up and down. Her broomstick skirt was long and patched, one end tied up at the hip to reveal another, equally shabby layer underneath. She wore a billowing blouse of deep orange with a missing button near her navel. And if that was not enough of an indication, the worn through leather boots, stained with all manners of greenish splotches, was enough of a tip off that this woman did not have coin. Not the kind of coin I needed in order to ensure I was given to the right hands.
“Look, I’m sure you’re nice,” I started. “But if I’m being honest, I really don’t want to be bought by whatever the hell just came into my cage.”
She nodded her head in agreement, her eyes ticking off in the direction the monster had wandered. “I don’t blame you. Those things are not the most sanitary of creatures.”
Taking a deep breath, I drew on my patience. “So, I’m going to need to find someone who can pay more than that thing can.”
Again, the woman nodded.
“So, I’m going to need to look,” I started slowly. Pointedly. “And it is hard to look with you standing right there.”
At that, she frowned in confusion. Glancing down at herself, it was as if she were contemplating her lack of transparency. It then clicked with a resounding snap. “Oh,” she said sheepishly. One wide step back and I could see the way her hands wrung in front of her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…” she blushed a little, running her hands nervously over her worn skirts. It caused the tonics on her belt to jingle “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t… you’re right. I’ll leave you alone.”
[[Call for her to come back]]
[[Let her go]]“Wait!” I called out. The woman paused, one arm wrapped low around her waist, while her free hand wandered towards her peach lips. She chewed on her thumb thoughtfully. “I’m sorry,” I said.
The woman's eyes ticked back and forth, searching for something in the crowd, before she made her way back to the cage. Angling herself, so we could have a bit more privacy than before, she let her hands drop in front of her as a conscious effort not to nervously twist.
“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re not from around here, I take it? You seem to be having a bit of culture shock.”
It was an understatement, but I didn’t want to say anything that might make me undesirable. I already may have messed up my chances. Or, got the only chances that would even dare come my way.
“I’m Hazel, by the way. Hazel Albright.”
She smiled at me, though it was with less empathy than before as hesitation filled her green brown eyes. I realized, after a moment, that she was treating me like some sort of skittish animal. To her, I probably looked the part.
“If you can push a broom and carry a cauldron, I would like to employ you.” Behind her, I could see creatures beginning to circle my pen. There seemed to be a slight unspoken rule that you did not interrupt a potential bail buyer when they were speaking with the client. It left for other interested parties to circle like vultures.
I skirted my eyes back towards Hazel. “How do we go about doing that?”
“Oh,” she brightened. “It’s easy really. I’ll just out bid anyone that tries to snag you when you go up on the bail block.”
“There isn’t a way to just outright buy me.”
“If you were near death, there would be. The guard usually doesn’t want to put those individuals on display. But since you look pretty hardy and healthy, I think that you’ll probably be one of the keynote items.” She looked apologetic, her hands beginning to nervously twist in her skirts again. “I’m sorry. I really don’t like speaking of you in a way that makes it sound like you are a commodity, I’m just unsure how else to go about explaining it to you.”
[[And yet you don’t seem to mind buying me]]
[[It’s okay]]
“And yet you are standing down here, surrounded by people in cages, willing to buy one of us to help you with remedial tasks.” I gritted a smile out as a blush colored her cheeks. She took a step back again. This girl was certainly not one to like confrontation but to stand back and just pretend like what she was doing was right was not in my nature.
“I- I truly am sorry. I simply want to help.”
“Then get me out of here,” I said through gritted teeth. I was trying my hardest to keep calm but my emotions were fraying with each passing moment.
She frowned, her brows furrowing in such a way that denoted that she was now unsure of just how much she wished to help me. That was fine. I was probably going to try and run from her the second I could. That is if she succeeded in buying me.
“Looking for a new rat, Hazel?” A group of jeering creatures laughed loudly, clinking their drinks together. Hazel shriveled under the onslaught of it, kicking at the sand. “Oh, come on, witch. Nothing to say? You had a lot to say the last time around, didn’t ya?”
The man in question came sauntering over. He was nearly twice her height, covered in thick bands of tattoos that twisted beneath the sleeves of his tunic. I could smell the ale on him from my position within the cage and could see the stain of it on the front of his clothes. He slung an arm over the woman's shoulder, Hazel’s, leaning into her heavily. Hazel looked uncomfortable as she tried to shrug him away, but his hand had a tight grip upon her waist.
“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m just joking with you.”
“A joke I surely do not appreciate,” she said, turning her chin from him as he tried to nuzzle her close.
The man tsked but his smile was dangerous, his fingers drumming against her. “That brother of yours liked jokes. All kinds of jokes.”
At that, she curled out from under his arm, taking a few steps towards safety. The distance between them I doubted would do much to dissuade him.
[[Try to help her]]
[[Stay out of it|Hazel’s fight]]“It’s fine,” I intoned. She didn’t seem like someone who enjoyed the abuse of power or the degradation that came with it. I may have been too harsh on her earlier with my snap judgements.
I felt a bone weary tiredness come over me then as I slumped against the cage. Hazel was looking back at me in concern. “Just, please. Get me out of here,” I said tiredly. I was in over my head and turning to the first decent person I had met felt like my only course of action. At least it did leave me with my heart beating in my throat.
“What’s your name?” she asked softly.
“$name.”
Hazel nodded. “I promise you, $name. I am here to help and I have done this more times than I can count. You are in good hands.”
“So you have a lot of coin? Or whatever the currency is here?” Appearances could have been deceiving. I was well aware that I knew nothing about this woman. Hope began to bloom at the thought of actually getting out of here.
“What?” she laughed loudly. “No. I own the local herbalist shop. I have very little coin.”
Or appearances were exactly what I thought them to be.
“But coin is not the only way to get you out of here,” she said with a grin. “I’d explain more but it’s best if you don’t know the full details. Not yet.”
There was a mischievous glint in her eyes that I couldn’t help but notice, along with a pleasant turn to her lips. The woman was striking, of that there was no doubt. Hands on her hips, head tilted slightly to the side, she observed me with a kindness that asked for nothing in return.
Running a hand down my face, I wiped away the sweat and cool salt air that had gathered against my cheeks. “When do I go up on the bail block?” I asked.
She tilted her head to the side, listening to whatever was being shouted on stage. “Soon. Looks like you are marked as forty-seven. They’re on forty-five now.”
I was a bit surprised at how quickly everything was moving. I had no idea if what awaited me outside these cages would be good or bad. Hazel didn’t give me much time to question it either. Catching my eye, she tried to give me an encouraging smile.
“It’ll be over soon,” she said, reaching through the bars of the cage and squeezing my hand encouragingly. Despite her being a literal stranger, the action filled me with some amount of hope. “And I promise to feed you so much food when we get out of here.”
“Looking for a new rat, Hazel?” A group of jeering creatures laughed loudly, clinking their drinks together. Hazel shriveled under the onslaught of it, kicking at the sand. “Oh, come on, witch. Nothing to say? You had a lot to say the last time around, didn’t ya?”
The man in question came sauntering over. He was nearly twice her height, covered in thick bands of tattoos that twisted beneath the sleeves of his tunic. I could smell the ale on him from my position within the cage and could see the stain of it on the front of his clothes. He slung an arm over the woman's shoulder, Hazel’s, leaning into her heavily. Hazel looked uncomfortable as she tried to shrug him away, but his hand had a tight grip upon her waist.
“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m just joking with you.”
“A joke I surely do not appreciate,” she said, turning her chin from him as he tried to nuzzle her close.
The man tsked but his smile was dangerous, his fingers drumming against her. “That brother of yours liked jokes. All kinds of jokes.”
At that, she curled out from under his arm, taking a few steps towards safety. The distance between them I doubted would do much to dissuade him.
[[Try to help her]]
[[Stay out of it|Hazel’s fight]]I didn’t respond. Despite the Warden and his less than friendly attitude, I was beginning to think the advice he had given had some weight behind it. I needed to look the part of whatever this woman wanted. She had said something about a cauldron? A broom? The presentation of an able body was more important than words alone.
Her lips turned downwards when I didn’t respond. With stained boots, she stepped forward, bumping the worn toes against the wooden slats that separated us. I could see the patchwork of her skirts up close now. Along with the many pockets that lined them and the tonics that hung from her belt.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” she whispered. “I know all of this can be jarring, but I am here to help. I saw who was in your cage. I won’t let him buy you.”
My eyes ticked towards where that creature clearly still sauntered, wandering from pen to pen, peeking inside each. When given my two options at the moment, the woman before me was without a doubt the better choice.
[[Continue your silence]]I stayed silent, unsure what I could say. Thus far, opening my mouth had offered me little respite. The path laid before me was tumbling in a downward spiral faster than I could keep up , and it didn’t seem to matter how much I screamed or shouted or begged, it continued to unfold. Looking at this woman now, her patchwork skirts fluttering in the ocean breeze, I wanted to believe that she could help. I also didn’t want to say anything to make her move on.
Understanding began to dawn in her eyes. Sadness twisted the corners of her gaze downwards as she worried her hands together, eyeing the surrounding patrons as if they were hanging on our every word.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, stepping forward. “You don’t need to speak. I understand. Just know that I am here to help you. I’ll get you out of here.”
I felt the words catch in my throat. Reaching forward, I wrapped my hands around the bars, and stared at her with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Trust would be a welcome emotion at this point, and I was desperate to believe this woman.
As her hand fell on mine, she gave me a soft smile. “I’m Hazel, by the way.”
“$name,” I said, the sound of it whispered and croaked. She smiled at it though, as if it were the most precious thing she had obtained.
“$name,” she repeated. “That is lovely.”
“Looking for a new rat, Hazel?” A group of jeering creatures laughed loudly, clinking their drinks together. Hazel shriveled under the onslaught of it, kicking at the sand. “Oh, come on, witch. Nothing to say? You had a lot to say the last time around, didn’t ya?”
The man in question came sauntering over. He was nearly twice her height, covered in thick bands of tattoos that twisted beneath the sleeves of his tunic. I could smell the ale on him from my position within the cage and could see the stain of it on the front of his clothes. He slung an arm over the woman's shoulder, Hazel’s, leaning into her heavily. Hazel looked uncomfortable as she tried to shrug him away, but his hand had a tight grip upon her waist.
“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m just joking with you.”
“A joke I surely do not appreciate,” she said, turning her chin from him as he tried to nuzzle her close.
The man tsked but his smile was dangerous, his fingers drumming against her. “That brother of yours liked jokes. All kinds of jokes.”
At that, she curled out from under his arm, taking a few steps towards safety. The distance between them I doubted would do much to dissuade him.
[[Try to help her]]
[[Stay out of it|Hazel’s fight]]“Hey,” my voice rang out, shifting the man's gaze towards me. He was the type that liked small women, exerting his power over them with sheer size alone. “She doesn’t seem interested, buddy. And while that may be a blow to your own ego, it’s clear that you’re not getting anything from her tonight.”
A slow, predatory grin crossed his face. “Why Hazel, this one’s got a bit more fire. I’ll look forward to splitting them open.” He licked his lips, his eyes flashing gold as he made to step towards the cage, greedy hunger filling his sights.
I made to ready myself, unsure of what this man could do. But feeling slightly relieved that his attention was off her. Curling my fists to my side, I braced myself.
[[Next|Hazel’s fight]]“Leave,” she demanded. “My transactions here have nothing to do with you.”
“You sure about that?” His pupils dilated, forming oblong slits across a yellowish gaze. “The last one screamed so pretty though.”
From her pockets, Hazel produced a small satchel. It was nothing special. Black and only the size of her slight palm. The smell of lavender and ylang ylang scented the air. It was enough to send the man stumbling back almost instantly, spitting at her feet.
“There’s rules about that kind of stuff within the auction blocks,” he said, nodding down to the velvet pouch in her hand.
She tightened her jaw and held her hand out threateningly. “Ask me how much I care.”
For a moment, I thought the man would rush her or that his friends would at the very least, interfere. Instead, a sneer raced across his overly thinned lips as he turned away. I could hear him muttering something beneath his breath, his hands clenching at his sides as if he were fighting the urge to turn around. Returning to his small group of lackeys he shrugged off their obvious jeers, hitting one of them out of their seat when they started laughing too hard at his plight.
By me, Hazel’s shoulders slumped just a little. Not enough for the men to see her relief but enough that I knew she had not been as confident as she had appeared. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, as if that entire ordeal was her fault.
[[What is that?]]
[[Are you alright?]]
[[That guy deserves to be in here. Not me]]“What is that?” I asked, gesturing towards the sachet still clutched in her hand.
“Oh,” she looked down at it, as if she forgot she had even been holding it. “Nothing, actually. A sleeping aid.”
“Why was he so scared of it?” The scant piece of fabric had sent the man careening back quicker than any weapon I had ever seen.
Hazel ran her thumb over the drawstring, holding the bag close as she shrugged at me. “Because I hexed him to look that unfortunate shade of frog a few months back, and he still hasn’t figured out the antidote. Nor will I sell him one. He is probably a bit sick of running into a series of ribbits each time he tries to bed a woman.”
[[Next|Bail block]]Concern immediately flooded me as the man disappeared and Hazel’s hand, holding the sachet, relaxed. “Are you alright?”
She looked startled for a moment, as if she hadn’t considered her own position in all this. Blindly, she had protected me. I didn’t even know to what extent.
“Yes,” she said, blinking at me. The white dots across her cheeks glowed slightly while her eyes deepened into a blackened storm. Quickly, she turned away, tucking the sachet back into the folds of her skirt and casting her eyes outwards towards the bail block.
“It won’t be long now,” she said. “I better get over there. A lot of attention has been put on you tonight.” She left it at that. It left a feeling of unease within me.
As she turned to me, her smile was thin, stretching tightly across a face that now looked pinched with worry. But her demeanor towards me was still kind. Still caring despite knowing nothing about me other than my name.
“Keep your head down,” she suggested. “I’ll get you out of there soon.”
And with that she was gone, heading towards the direction of the bail block where I could see a crowd beginning to gather.
[[Next|Bail block]]“Don’t apologize. It’s clear he’s the one that should be in here. Not me.” The Night Market was truly becoming a nightmare. One that I desperately needed to escape.
“We have bad blood, him and I,” she murmured. I could see a sadness cross her eyes. One she quickly tried to push away. A furrowed crease appeared above her brow as she looked down at the sachet and shook her head. Whatever was in there was enough to send that man running. It was clear that Hazel Albright was not a woman to be underestimated.
“He doesn’t matter,” she said after a moment. More to herself than me.
Tilting her head upwards, she turned her full attention back at me. Her eyes were bright with careful resignation and her lips were folded into a soft but determined curve.
“Keep your head down,” she suggested. “I’ll get you out of there soon.”
And with that she was gone, heading towards the direction of the bail block where I could see a crowd beginning to gather.
[[Next|Bail block]]The crestfallen look that crossed her face as she walked away was one that sent a twinge of guilt through me. I tried not to think too long about it. I needed someone who was guaranteed to outbid every creep that wandered by. While she looked like a kind soul, I didn’t want to cast my chances in with a woman who wouldn’t be able to hold her own against the monsters that were circling
Sighing, I frantically began to scan the market once more. I was desperate to find anyone who looked as if they had some semblance of money. Eyes prone to look my way were not ones with a favorable gaze, however, and I had no ability to discern whether that was my fault or if I simply was not that interesting. But I continued to try. To rot in these pens or lay down and let fate take these cruel reigns felt like losing heart. While I had very little in this world, I did not want to acquiesce the one thing I had.
“They look like they have all their teeth.” A squat creature bounced from clawed foot to foot, their tufted ears swaying with the movement. A button nose looked sewn onto their face while their black and beady eyes were turned upwards towards an impossibly tall woman. She stood at his side, a pair of upturned lips admiring him fondly. Almost comically, she clutched a small coin purse within her large palms, holding it delicately to her chest.
“Yes,” she said. “Though I do not like their coloring. A bit too avant guard for me.”
“We could change it,” the mouse creature squeaked. They were looking in my direction, making no efforts to hide that they were speaking of me.
“Depends on the price. A creature like that will fetch a decent coin. There are plenty of wannabe Barons in the crowd today. All looking for a piece of flesh to let hang off their arm. I suspect most will return their prize right back into the pens when they are done with them.”
[[They can do that?]]
[[Listen to the conversation]]
<<set $milomeet to "true">>I blinked. "They can do that?”
A brief moment of shock crossed the overly rouged lips of the woman before me, as if speaking to her was unheard of. The action alone titillated her and I could see the excitement high on her brow. “Why yes, my dear. Did you really think that when you were done with whatever inane charge they have you on, you would simply be let go?”
That’s how it had been explained to me. The woman's laughter made me wonder if I was being naive.
“Oh, oh dear,” she mocked, turning to her mouse companion. “?They did. ?They actually thought that. How sad. Belview. Maybe I will buy this one. I can put ?them within my lobby and ?they can sit prettily on a stage and tell silly little jokes like this.”
The mouse continued hopping. “That would be hilarious, m’lady.”
“Oh, and I could dress you up. All cute. Not in whatever rags the guard has put you in.”
I looked down at myself. “These are my clothes.”
The woman’s laughter rang like a gong throughout the rest of the beach, catching the attention of several others who stopped to look curiously at her. Her head was flung back, a jagged set of yellow teeth clacking behind her pink lips. “You are a riot. Yes. I shall want you.” Leaning down, she scritched Belview under the chin. “Put in a word that I am buying this one, darling. I don’t want anyone else thinking that they get to have ?them.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
As Belview scampered off, the woman turned to me. Her eyes were slitted and red. “I’ll be seeing you, my dear. Do try to save your voice for later. I do so like when they scream during decontamination.”
As the woman sauntered away, I leaned back against the back wall of the cage. The barred slats dug into my back and the ocean lashed behind me as the tide began to edge in. I blinked at the retreating form of the statuesque woman, feeling my body vibrate. The idea of going with her filled me with dread.
"In case you were curious, that was your sign that you should not have let Hazel go."
My eyes snapped upwards. I had seen this man already. He had been lingering in the distance for most of the evening. I had caught glimpses of him drinking near the crooked buildings across the way, his eyes on the crowd of the market. He hadn’t seemed interested in any of the compatriots within the pens though.
“Lady Marlene and her henchman Belview are not the most unsavory sort of souls you can come across,” he continued, “though they are not ones I would enjoy the company of for long. Unless you like being a human vase.” His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward to look at me. “You are human, aren’t you?”
His white shirt hung open, revealing lengths of gold and bronze chains with misshapen pendants. Sleeves tucked up around his elbows and suspenders loose across his shoulders, he looked like a man without a care. Yet the glint in his eyes was one that called to danger. And now, they were trained on me.
[[Go away]]
[[Are you going to help me?]]
[[Talk about Lady Marlene and the others of the Night Market]]They spoke as if I were not present and I made little effort to correct that. I didn’t think I could take many more people coming up to the cage and peering in like I was some sort of animal. The woman who I had just sent away was seeming more and more appealing, however.
“I wonder if this one is mute,” the woman mused. The wide set of her forehead was covered in a dotted veil, the lace of which matched the off putting coloration of her rouge. “It would be better if that were the case. The last pet we had was too talkative. Really, the Velvet Guard needs to be a bit more discerning in who they put up for sale.”
“Too right, m’lady! Too right!” The little creature agreed, hopping from foot to foot.
“It is of my belief that if they do not meet a certain criteria, they should just be tossed into the flesh pens,” the woman sniffed. I could feel her pink eyes on me, moving across my arms and legs, looking for something to impress her. “Well, it's not the prettiest,” the woman continued. “But I think there is potential.” With a nod, she turned to her companion. “Belview. Maybe I will buy this one. I can put ?them within my lobby and ?they can stand to the side holding a vase of flowers.”
The mouse continued hopping. “That would be most useful, m’lady.”
“Oh, and I could dress it up,” she gasped. The idea seemingly exciting her more than the idea of me holding a vase of flowers. “All cute. Not in whatever rags are on ?them now.”
I refrained from looking down at myself and acknowledging the insult. The less I responded, the better. The Wardenhad at least been right on that front.
“Put in a word that I am buying this one, darling. I don’t want anyone else thinking that they get to have ?them.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
As Belview scampered off, the woman turned to me. Her eyes were slitted and deepening into a shade of crimson. “I’ll be seeing you, my dear. Do try to save your voice for later. I do so like when they scream during decontamination.”
As the woman sauntered away, I leaned back against the back wall of the cage. Just what exactly had I gotten myself into here?
As the woman sauntered away, I leaned back against the back wall of the cage. The barred slats dug into my back and the ocean lashed behind me as the tide began to edge in. I blinked at the retreating form of the statuesque woman, feeling my body vibrate. The idea of going with her filled me with dread.
"In case you were curious, that was your sign that you should not have let Hazel go."
My eyes snapped upwards. I had seen this man already. He had been lingering in the distance for most of the evening. I had caught glimpses of him drinking near the crooked buildings across the way, his eyes on the crowd of the market. He hadn’t seemed interested in any of the compatriots within the pens though.
“Lady Marlene and her henchman Belview are not the most unsavory sort of souls you can come across,” he continued, “though they are not ones I would enjoy the company of for long. Unless you like being a human vase.” His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward to look at me. “You are human, aren’t you?”
His white shirt hung open, revealing lengths of gold and bronze chains with misshapen pendants. Sleeves tucked up around his elbows and suspenders loose across his shoulders, he looked like a man without a care. Yet the glint in his eyes was one that called to danger. And now, they were trained on me.
[[Go away]]
[[Are you going to help me?]]
[[Talk about Lady Marlene and the others of the Night Market]]Pressing dirty fingers to my $eyecolor eyes, I tried to block out the noises filtering in around me. The ocean crashed strongly at my back, seeping into the loosely packed sand of my cage. The raucous laughter of men and women lingered across the way at the tilted saloons, and the pound of a gavel on a large butcher block, banged in my ear as if a clock, ticking down my fate.
“Go away,” I said tiredly. I didn’t want to do this anymore. Just put me up on that bail block and let the fates have me. It was better than whatever kept filtering in and out of my cage.
“I will.” The man had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, an unlit cigarette hanging from his chapped lips. “I’m going to go wandering into this crowd and find Hazel. Going to try and convince her in fact that she needs to not be the bleeding heart I know her to be. Because here’s the thing. Even though you shoved her off like she was nothing more than a street rat, she’s still going to try and help you. I know that girl. It’s just what she does.”
“Do whatever it is you want,” I told him. “It’s not like I have any choice in all this anyway.”
The look he gave me was one of naked curiosity. I couldn’t understand why as he stared at me, amber eyes flickering across my face as if looking for some hidden meaning. When his gaze met with mine again, I blinked at him. “What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said flatly. “But you should know that Hazel didn’t deserve that. She was actually trying to help.”
[[I felt guilty]]
[[I didn't care]]
[[What about everyone else?]]The sand beneath my feet was beginning to sink. The tide would come in soon and the bottom cages would be half submerged with water. I could already feel my clothes becoming damp with the prospect. Salt caked the lower half of the slats that kept me from freedom while several cages to my right were snapped and in disrepair. Forgotten. Along with anyone unfortunate enough to have been in there.
“Are you going to help me?” My luck was running out and time was ticking towards an inevitable end to my sanity.
The keys that hung precariously from his belt jangled as he moved forward. He had a mop of curly hair and pale freckled skin that was proudly on display. “I can. In fact, I am in a unique position where not only will I help you, but I’ll take a vested interest in your wellbeing after we spring you from here.”
I frowned at that. Not that I could really turn that away but this man didn’t even know my name. “Why?”
“I don’t like the bail blocks,” he said with a shrug. “I certainly don’t like the flesh pens.” He snorted to himself. “And I really hate Gabriel Caine so any chance to fuck him over is one I take gleeful delight in.”
[[I felt guilty]]
[[I didn't care]]
[[What about everyone else?]]“She certainly does not seem like someone I want to spend a lot of time with,” I said. I could see her form looming over the rest of the crowd, the rat creature, Belview, skittering among her skirts. “What is she, exactly?”
“Who knows. Best not to try and categorize too many people within the Night Market. You’ll either be completely wrong or offend someone by figuring it out.”
The man had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, an unlit cigarette hanging from his chapped lips. There was a familiarity in which he looked at me, as if he expected me to greet him in some way.
“Is that what I should expect, then?” I asked. “To be bought and used as a vase?”
He tipped his head to the side. “You want the honest answer?” I didn’t know if I did, but I nodded all the same. “Yes and no. Most people here are harmless. Buying out contracts in order to keep the penal system going in a way that doesn’t just lock everyone up for the slightest infractor. Morally, is it right? Absolutely not. But most people within the Night Market are not all together moral.”
“I heard about the flesh pens.”
His look darkened at that. “That’s a whole other subsidiary of people that should be wiped away, if you want my honest opinion.” I didn’t know why, but it was one that I almost didn’t wish to have, despite agreeing with it wholeheartedly.
Quickly, I steered us away from the subject of the one place I had very nearly gone. “And your opinion on Lady Marlene?”
He snorted, rocking on the balls of his feet. Curly hair fell in messy swaths across his forehead while his mouth curved into a crinkled smile. “She is a rich woman with too much time on her hands and is ultimately lonely. Not the worst person that could buy you. And not the best either.”
As I looked around, I couldn’t imagine a single one of these people being someone I would want to walk out of here with. Except for maybe that woman from earlier. The one with the kind eyes and the heart shaped face.
“There it is,” he said slowly.
“There what is?”
“The realization that you shouldn’t have treated her like shit.”
I didn’t say anything. The man before me was more observant than I had given him credit for. Perhaps most of the people I had come in contact with were.
“Now,” he said, looking at me. “I’m going to go wandering into this crowd and find Ms. Hazel. Going to try and convince her in fact that she needs to not be the bleeding heart I know her to be. Because here’s the thing. Even though you shoved her off like she was nothing more than a street rat, she’s still going to try and help you. I know that girl. It’s just what she does.”
[[I felt guilty]]
[[I didn't care]]
[[What about everyone else?]]Something heavy settled in my gut at the memory of the kind eyes and the way she hung her head as I sent her away. She had been trying to help. I had just assumed the inability to do so because of the way she looked. The guilt must have shown on my face because the man stepped closer.
“Rethinking some actions?” he asked. The unlit cigarette he sported bounced against his lips. He had his hands shoved in his trouser pockets, where a belt of keys hung loose on his hips. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he raised one brow to me. I didn’t need to answer him. The regret was already written on my face.
It was enough to wipe the smirk off his though. “Aw, don’t look like that.” He took the cigarette and tucked it behind his ear. Locks of dirty blonde hair fell in just such a way to cover it. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that bad."
[[Start to cry]]
[[Pull yourself together]]
My shoulders slumped.
“Please just go away.” I was beyond caring at this point. The revolving door of people that seemed interested in me tonight was overwhelming in a way that was either going to leave me shuddering in tears or screaming in rage. It was a toss up which direction I would end up going.
I watched the man shrug, taking his cigarette from his mouth and placing it behind his ear. “Suit yourself,” he said. There was an indifference to his voice that was carefully practiced. “You can thank us when we save your ass here in another hour or so. Unless you want the likes of Belview escorting you out of here.”
I didn’t answer him. I could feel my mind shutting down. I knew he was trying to bait me but I no longer felt the energy to fight back.
There was no way to tell how many cages littered the beach. Some had fallen claim to the ocean waves while others looked in sick disrepair off to the side. I wondered how many bodies littered the ocean floor and how many of their families were still out there, waiting for them to come home.
“I’ll be seeing you soon," I heard the man say.
The crowd folded around him, swallowing him whole as I sank back against the bars. The only thing left to do now was wait.
[[Next|Bail block]]
“What about everyone else here?” Survivors guilt. It was not prevalent enough for me to negate the help being handed to me, but as I looked around and spotted others, looking just as lost as I, I couldn’t help but ask the question.
He turned sympathetic eyes on me, honey brown and warm. “You can’t save them all. You learn that along the way.”
There was a brief scuffle as a younger man was dragged up towards the bail block. He fought valiantly, his curses echoing across to the crowd. It only excited them, causing the people gathered to jeer at the man and the three guards that now had a hold of him.
“It’s best not to look right now.” The man leaned against the cage, his eyes downcast. But I knew he was looking. Following the actions he steered me away from. “You want to do something about this, then you do something about it when you get out of here.”
“And how are we going to go about doing that?” I asked.
The smile that stretched his face was hidden beneath shadows, an eerie mark when placed against the fires that dotted the beach. "Who says I'm not actually doing anything about it?"
A group of guards walked by. They all wore red velvet coats and had swords strapped to their hip. He nodded at each of them, his smile wide and crinkled as he tipped an imaginary hat their way. When they passed, he turned towards me once more, hands in his pockets. Slowly, he began backing away.
“I’ll be seeing you soon.”
The crowd folded around him, taking him from my sight. I slumped back against my cage, feeling incredibly tired. The only thing left to do now was wait.
[[Next|Bail block]]I wiped at my eyes with dirty fingers, vaguely wondering when they had become so unclean and what the rest of me probably looked like at this point. As much as I wanted to keep the tears from coming, I couldn’t. There was something lodged in my chest that I was slowly realizing was fear.
“Oh, hey, no. Don’t cry.” The man looked nervous as a sob bubbled from my chest. “Oh, fuck. Really? Did I break you?” Whatever bravado that had laced his words before were suddenly gone into an awkward metaphorical pat as he looked at me anxiously.
Pressing the heel of my hand against my lips, I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the wetness course down my cheeks and wet my fingers. I just wanted to go home.
“Look, I really need you to stop crying,” he said. “Like, really need it. Simply because I don’t know how to really help you here and you’re making me feel kind of bad.”
His words tipped me over the edge. Big shaking sobs began to wrack my body, racing through me in waves of terrified sorrow. A woman ripped open a cage door not far from us, dragging a young man out by the scruff of his neck. His bare feet left long lines in the sand as he was brought towards the bail block, limp and unresponsive.
Blinking wetly, I looked back towards the man before me. The only one now that could maybe help me after sending the other woman, Hazel, away. I didn’t want the others to buy me. I didn’t want to be a human vase or whatever else they had in store.
I just wanted to wake from whatever nightmare I found myself in, tucked beneath the burnt orange comforter spread across my bed.
“This is really more of Hazel’s job than mine,” he commented, his voice edged with panic. “The crying, that is. I’m more of the guy that is supposed to bolster your confidence.”
I looked at him incredulously.
“Okay, I’m not good at my job. I get it. You don’t have to say it.”
I let myself shudder beneath the weight of the day, the man outside the cage making little aborted noises as he tried to comfort me somehow. When the tears finally did subside, I knew my face looked blotchy and in shock, but I felt confident I could open my mouth now without sobbing.
“Are you going to get me out of here?” I asked.
His face grew serious. “I’m going to try. And usually, I don’t fail.”
Only a few hours had passed since opening my eyes in that cell but I felt like I had already lived a lifetime. “I just want to get out of here,” I said absently. “I’ll do anything.”
There was a mirthless laugh as his fingers curled around the slats of the cage and he leaned in. “Promise?” There was something teasing in his voice, though his eyes ticked across the beach towards the guard presence. It seemed to be growing thicker. “‘Cause, darlin’, I would be making such declarations if you don’t plan to keep them.”
[[Roll your eyes at him]]
[[You want something to happen get me out of here]]
[[Ignore him]]I sucked in a deep breath, counting slowly to ten. I could see a group of men approaching, clad in the velvet red of the guard. One of them looked at me but seemed to ignore what was going on when he saw the man standing in front of my cage.
“Good to see you, Niles. How’s the husband?” The curious man with the open shirt and too many keys waved at the guard, that bravado he clung to present once more.
Niles sneered at the man, but continued to walk, checking the other cages first.
“I used to date his husband,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Or at least I think I did. Who's to say.”
I took a few deep breathes, trying to reach for a sense of calm. I was going to have to trust someone eventually. I may as well start with this guy. If he knew the woman from before, maybe he wasn't all that bad.
“Are you going to get me out of here?” I asked.
His face grew serious. “I’m going to try. And usually, I don’t fail.”
Only a few hours had passed since opening my eyes in that cell but I felt like I had already lived a lifetime. “I just want to get out of here,” I said absently. “I’ll do anything.”
There was a mirthless laugh as his fingers curled around the slats of the cage and he leaned in. “Promise?” There was something teasing in his voice, though his eyes ticked across the beach towards the guard presence. It seemed to be growing thicker. “‘Cause, darlin’, I would be making such declarations if you don’t plan to keep them.”
[[Roll your eyes at him]]
[[You want something to happen get me out of here]]
[[Ignore him]]“The answer to all of that is no,” I said. “A resounding no.”
He didn’t seem put off by my statement. If anything, it amused him. Holding his hands up in defeat, he took a clear step back. “My apologies,” he grinned. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
"I am in the middle of a beach, in a cage, about ready to be sold to someone in a land that I know nothing about. How was that not going to come off as offensive?”
He titled his head to the side. “Okay, fair.”
“But?” I asked. He had the clear advantage and we both knew it. I wondered if he was going to leverage that.
“No buts. Your statement is fair."
I stared at him incredulously. Who the fuck was this man? He looked at me with his stupid open shirt and suspenders holding up a pair of pants weighed down with a bed of jangling bits of metal.
"I'll come back for you," he said, beginning to move away.
“And what if you don’t come back for me?” I asked.
“Well, I suppose you’re just going to have to trust me.” With hands in his pockets, he turned on one booted heel. When he was a few feet away he looked over his shoulder, tossing me a wink as the crowd swallowed him whole.
I stepped back and leaned against the bars tiredly. The tide was coming in, dampening my shoes. The murmur of the crowd mingled with the sound of the lapping waves and slowly, the rest of the world went quiet as I resigned myself to whatever was about to come.
There was nothing to do now, but wait.
[[Next|Bail block]]
<<set $key to "true">>I stepped up to the cage, curling my hand around his fingers as they gripped the slats “You want something to happen? Then get me out of here.”
A slow and predatory grin reached across his face at that, his free hand coming to grip my hip through the bars. Roughly, I was yanked forward. My knees knocked against the bars, bruising at the contact. His grip was soft on my hip though, his thumb tracing soothingly against it. I could feel the heat roll off him in waves as our bodies were pressed tightly against each other, nothing but a few scant pieces of reinforced wood to keep us there.
“Let me make clear that I would get you out of here with or without that promise,” he said gruffly. “Because you, $name, are the most intriguing.”
And just like that, the heat was gone. Hands folded in his pockets, he winked at me, disappearing into the crowd without a word. The entire situation had been jarring at best and left my heart pounding and the air in my lungs feeling thick.
As I stepped back, leaning against the cage wall, I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the crashing ocean behind me sooth the racing of my heart. I could hear the auctioneer calling out a number and the murmur of the crowd. A few guards were fighting near the tilted saloons. And somewhere, I thought I heard the childlike laughter of someone carefree from this life.
Trying to relax, I let my eyes fall shut. There was nothing to do now, but wait.
[[Next|Bail block]]
I ignored him, watching the grin stretch across his face in such a way that said he was rather happy with that. It amused him somehow.
“You are certainly not what I expected,” he said. When I looked back up at him he was already moving back through he crowd. I didn't know if he was going to get me out of here or if that was it. Maybe I'd never see the man again.
I looked around, feeling the tide beginning to wet my boots. Most people seemed to be passing my cage now, moving on down the line towards the new comers. I could see the warden tiredly putting more people within their cells, along with the other guards dressed in red velvet. For the first time since I had awoken in my cell back in the tunnels, I was alone.
There was nothing left to do but wait.
[[Next|Bail block]]
Time passed at a slow inch. The water came up to my ankles, frigid from the cold, stinging with the threat of electricity. As the sky overhead darkened into a thick and viscous weave, the few that were at the beach as mere spectators left. It forced the rest to congregate near the stage, the ocean quite literally pushing at their backs.
I could see the Warden near the path that he had escorted me down from. Gray slate stood firm against his back as he leaned against the prison he lorded over. His arms were barreled over his chest and even from where I waited, I could tell his thoughts were lost somewhere to a memory. I wondered if he stood vigil now in penance for the system he was withholding. Watching the shoddy masquerade he helped create.
“Number 47?”
Their velvet coat was dirty with sand, as if they had tussled upon the shore during the evening. Tired eyes belonging to a member of the Velvet Guard opened my pen, staring at me with a dull sense of duty. Did no one here enjoy their jobs or were they all jaded enough to helpless and terrified eyes that they locked away what humanity they had left.
“This way please,” they said.
No sooner had I stepped out of the pen were two silver bangles placed on my wrist. I could feel something pulse across my skin, the smell of burnt hair lingering in my nose. As the guard walked forward, my feet stumbled after them. Even an experimental tug hurt to try and I was left with little option but to follow or feel electric bolts race down my spine.
The sand cracked beneath my feet, crunching with each step as I was led around the crowd and towards the side of a large block stage. It was made of weathered wood, stained bone white with the passage of time, sea salt caked in a crumbling mass at each corner. A dark man with loose hung braids stood on top of the stage, slamming a gavel down upon a gem faced dais.
“To you, madame! Bail set at two months, thirteen days.”
I stumbled, realizing I had stopped while the guard escorting me kept moving. They were standing at the base of a few rickety looking stairs. I wasn’t sure how they were doing it but with a flick of their wrist, I was stumbling towards them, as if an invisible leash connected us.
“You know how this works?” Eyes snapping towards the guard, I shook my head no. Their voice was bored but I could tell by the slump of their shoulders they were looking forward to the end of their night.
“Didn’t think so,” they said. I was a little surprised at just how forthcoming they were being. Thus far, my experience had been doublespeak and tight lipped guards. I almost wished they had been the one to process me earlier. Maybe I would have been more prepared for the beach.
“Just go up on stage, let them do all the talking. Luckily you have Maddox up there tonight. He at least tries to keep the bail to something reasonable.” The clanging pound of the wooden gavel echoed over the sound of the ocean waves. Another bail complete. “Once time is set for your bail, I’ll come get you. We’ll get you all signed off, and you can head to your new job.” Looking down, they nodded towards the bangles. “Don’t try to run though. Magic in that has been enhanced since the last round of bail. Gem shards won’t disrupt it anymore.”
I looked down at the curved metal against my wrist. Ornate filaments of gunmetal reflected back in a twirling pattern that looked like interlacing chains. “What do these do?”
“Keep you from running. And if you try to fight, well…” they made a gesture that I assumed was to be interpreted as something unsavory.
“Next!”
My head snapped towards the towering form of the bailer Maddox.
[[I was nervous]]
[[I was ready to get this over with]]
[[I was numb]]Sick rolled in my stomach, clawing at my insides in a silent scream. Nothing I could think of would keep me from walking up on that platform and while the absence of choice should have been comforting, I only found myself dizzy with what was to come. The silver bangles were like a vice around my wrists, nudging me forward and onto a stage where countless had been before. With a shuddering breath, I climbed the stairs.
The stage itself was small; barely the breadth of four people. The crowd that swam before me though was vast. A sea of color and horns wavered in front of me, their features washed out by the bright lights that ran across the edge of the stage itself. Deep basins of glowing white emitted the illusion that I was alone with the giant named Maddox. He was holding out a weathered hand.
[[Take his hand]]
[[Refuse to take his hand]]A tendril of something dull and painful rolled through me for one blinding moment before I pushed it aside in search of calm. Running was not an option. Not with the bangles clanging on my wrist. Nor did I think bargaining with the nameless guard at my side would accomplish anything but a humiliating entrance onto the stage as I was dragged there against my will. I had to trust that this was going to be okay.
And if it was not, I had to know that I was strong enough to get myself out of it
Taking the steps upwards, I gave the guard a small glance before my feet landed flat on the vertical planks, creaking with my weight. The stage itself was small; barely the breadth of four people. The crowd that swarmed before me though was vast. A sea of color and horns wavered in front of me, their features washed out by the bright lights that ran across the edge of the stage itself. Deep basins of glowing white emitted the illusion that I was alone with the giant named Maddox. He was holding out a weathered hand.
[[Take his hand]]
[[Refuse to take his hand]]I stared blankly at the set of steps that would take me up towards the flat of the stage. My skin felt too tight and the knot of my spine felt heated and cracked. But fear eluded me. Along with most other emotions. My feet carried me upwards without my very knowledge and somewhere inside the flooding expanse of my mind, I wondered if I had moved on my own volition, or if the Velvet Guards had made me.
The stage itself was small; barely the breadth of four people. The crowd that swarmed before me though was vast. A sea of color and horns wavered in front of me, their features washed out by the bright lights that ran across the edge of the stage itself. Deep basins of glowing white emitted the illusion that I was alone with the giant named Maddox. He was holding out a weathered hand.
[[Take his hand]]
[[Refuse to take his hand]]My own $skincolor hand fell against the darkness of his palm. His fingers curled around me in a surprisingly gentle tug as he moved us both forward, one step closer to the murmuring audience.
“Just breathe, kid,” he said, his voice a low timber that I felt reverberated through my toes. “Most of the sikkos have left for the evenin’.”
I supposed that should have made me feel better and maybe it would have if I had time to register it. But Maddox launched into a spiel almost immediately.
“Up next we have this lovely young arrival. Taken from the street's illegal entrance into the market, we are looking at a minimum contract. No disease, warm blooded, and of fine form. Starting bid will be at three days. We will be capping it at six and a half moons.”
I started to see hands rise as Maddox began calling out numbers. The process was happening so fast that I was almost certain I was about to be sold before I could even catch my breath. My eyes looked for someone familiar, the face that promised my salvation. But the lights were too bright and left me squinting ineffectively into the crowd.
The days rapidly began to climb, turning into weeks, and then a month. I felt the sweat from the lights gather across the crown of my head. There was no way of telling if a friendly face was buying me or if the ghoulish ones from earlier were in the lead. The only thing I could discern was that I was apparently a commodity to be had.
“Sold,” Maddox shouted with a deafening thud from his gavel. I looked at him, my lips parted and eyes wide. “Bail is set at fourteen weeks exactly.” I was being yanked off stage then and while I frantically locked eyes on the moving figure off to the right of the crowd, I could not tell just yet who it was that had bought me. They were nothing more than a shapeless and wobbling form that was weaving through the gathered bodies.
The young guard from earlier had a hand on my forearm, gently guiding me away from the heat of the stage and towards the back. I could see a small processing area set up on a much smaller platform, this one looking more official than the pageantry out front.
Around the other side, I saw my buyer appear. They were a thin man, clad in a vertical lined suit of the deepest green. I hadn’t even seen him that night as a myriad of people had vocally set claim to me. He looked up at me from across the way with jeweled eyes and a foreboding grin.
“Sorry,” the guard said softly.
I snapped my head towards them. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” they shook their head, but at my insistent gaze, let out a long sigh. “I just hear they are grueling with their work. They own the coal mine up on the mezzanine. It’s not exactly a cheerful place.”
[[Approach the buyer timidly]]
[[Approach the buyer with chin held high]]
[[Approach the buyer with venom]]Pointedly, I kept my hands by my side, my fingers rigid as my spine. Maddox only shrugged at the gesture, certainly having worse by now, before taking a large step forward. He splayed his hands out wide to entice the crowd, a ringleader performing to his circus.
“Up next we have this lovely young arrival. Taken from the street's illegal entrance into the market, we are looking at a minimum contract. No disease, warm blooded, and of fine form. Starting bid will be at three days. We will be capping it at six and a half moons.”
I started to see hands rise as Maddox began calling out numbers. The process was happening so fast that I was almost certain I was about to be sold before I could even catch my breath. My eyes looked for someone familiar, the face that promised my salvation. But the lights were too bright and left me squinting ineffectively into the crowd.
The days rapidly began to climb, turning into weeks, and then a month. I felt the sweat from the lights gather across the crown of my head. There was no way of telling if a friendly face was buying me or if the ghoulish ones from earlier were in the lead. The only thing I could discern was that I was apparently a commodity to be had.
“Sold,” Maddox shouted with a deafening thud from his gavel. I looked at him, my lips parted and eyes wide. “Bail is set at fourteen weeks exactly.” I was being yanked off stage then and while I frantically locked eyes on the moving figure off to the right of the crowd, I could not tell just yet who it was that had bought me. They were nothing more than a shapeless and wobbling form that was weaving through the gathered bodies.
The young guard from earlier had a hand on my forearm, gently guiding me away from the heat of the stage and towards the back. I could see a small processing area set up on a much smaller platform, this one looking more official than the pageantry out front.
Around the other side, I saw my buyer appear. They were a thin man, clad in a vertical lined suit of the deepest green. I hadn’t even seen him that night as a myriad of people had vocally set claim to me. He looked up at me from across the way with jeweled eyes and a foreboding grin.
“Sorry,” the guard said softly.
I snapped my head towards them. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” they shook their head, but at my insistent gaze, let out a long sigh. “I just hear they are grueling with their work. They own the coal mine up on the mezzanine. It’s not exactly a cheerful place.”
[[Approach the buyer timidly]]
[[Approach the buyer with chin held high]]
[[Approach the buyer with venom]]While I doubted there was much of a choice, I stepped forward with my eyes steady and clear. I would not show fear to whatever laid ahead. I would accept it with grace.
Apparently the process of buying ones bail was a quick one. Two forms were slid across to the man, small highlighted areas indicating where he needed to sign. The man himself was rail thin and stood at a towering eight feet. The wide set of his pants hid what must have been twig legs, snapable under the barest of pressure. The bone of his ankle was exposed to the night air as he leaned forward to sign my papers. It looked mottled and sickly. For the life of me, I didn’t know how he was keeping himself upright.
Next to me, the guard that had shown me at least a modicum of kindness, was staring straight ahead. I had no doubt they were ready for me to run, however. Such was the nature of their job.
“Will you be requiring charms to get them home this evening?” A curly haired woman sat at the desk, a box of trinkets by her side. Her hand hovered over them, as if she expected all customers to say yes, but the man straightened, adjusting his tie, and shook his head no.
“Will not be necessary.” His voice was high and reedy and as he turned towards me, his eyes flickered into glittering topaz. “Shall we go? I do have a schedule to keep.”
The bangles were taken from my wrists before I could respond, falling to the table, next to the box of trinkets with a clatter. I stared up at the strange man and nodded my head. With a gesture, he beckoned me to follow and we began our journey to wherever he was taking me.
[[Next|Bail Block 2]]What little choice I had was boiled down to how I would respond. Marching forward, I was determined to demand to know just who this buyer was. I could feel the words, hot on my tongue. But when I opened my mouth, nothing.
I turned a furious gaze towards the crackling metal at my wrists, and the guard who had been escorting me.
“Sorry,” they said. Though the words were monotone at best.
Apparently the process of buyings one’s bail was a quick one. Two forms were slid across to the man, small highlighted areas indicating where he needed to sign. The man himself was rail thin and stood at a towering eight feet. The wide set of his pants hid what must have been twig legs, snapable under the barest of pressure. The bone of his ankle was exposed to the night air as he leaned forward to sign my papers. It looked mottled and sickly. It was a good thing to log for when we were alone. It was a possible weak point. A solid kick would do him in.
“Will you be requiring charms to get them home this evening?” A curly haired woman sat at the desk, a box of trinkets by her side. Her hand hovered over them, as if she expected all customers to say yes, but the man straightened, adjusting his tie, and shook his head no.
“Will not be necessary.” His voice was high and reedy and as he turned towards me, his eyes flickered into glittering topaz. “Shall we go? I do have a schedule to keep.”
The woman at the desk looked as if she were about to protest his decision, but one gnarled hand was held up, his fingers flopping down to the meaty part of his palm.
Wordlessly, they took the bangles from me.
I rubbed at my wrists, the absence of magic a fine itch. When I looked up, my buyer was already meandering unconcerned down the beach. It would have been the perfect opportunity to run if I was not already surrounded by guards
[[Next|Bail Block 2]]
With little choice, and the guard’s words ringing in my ears, I stepped forward. The man was rail thin and stood at a towering eight feet. The wide set of his pants hid what must have been twig legs, snapable under the barest of pressure. The bone of his ankle was exposed to the night air as he leaned forward to sign my papers. It looked mottled and sickly. For the life of me, I didn’t know how he was keeping himself upright.
I swallowed, looking towards the guard that had been by my side that night, but they were staring straight ahead. Such was their job, I supposed.
“Will you be requiring charms to get them home this evening?” A curly haired woman sat at the desk, a box of trinkets by her side. Her hand hovered over them, as if she expected all customers to say yes, but the man straightened, adjusting his tie, and shook his head no.
“Will not be necessary.” His voice was high and reedy and as he turned towards me, his eyes flickered into glittering topaz. “Shall we go? I do have a schedule to keep.”
I felt something catch in the back of my throat; a scream or a cry. Perhaps a mixture of the two. As the bangles were taken from my wrists I knew I could run but I had no confidence I would make it far.
The bangles were taken from my wrists before I could respond, falling to the table, next to the box of trinkets with a clatter. I stared up at the strange man and nodded my head. With a gesture, he beckoned me to follow and we began our journey to wherever he was taking me.
[[Next|Bail Block 2]]Maddox’s voice and the sound of his gavel followed us down the beach. The wafting form of the man in front of me was passing the brunt of the crowd, circumventing the pens, and heading upwards towards a stone incline that was littered with displaced sand. As I stared at the back of the swaying figure, I knew he was not human. It was clear that he was something more. A being uncomfortable in his own skin. He was not the oddest thing in the surrounding area by far, but he was strange at that. Almost as if the top half of his body was too heavy for his feet.
As we made our way up the slight incline, towards a series of stringed lights with paper lanterns dangling from their cord, I thought the man would fall backwards. He bent nearly in two, tipping his head back to give me a cheeky grin before righting himself again. The top of his head brushed the underside of the lanterns up above.
Tall, multi-colored buildings surrounded a small courtyard where a topiary of foliage stood at the center, wood benches circling the base. I could see narrow alleyways carved between each building, jutting off into the darkness. The courtyard itself was warm and bright, awash in the soft yellow and pink lights from above. I looked up at the lanterns themselves, each of varying size and color. They fluttered like crisp autumn leaves.
“This a way,” the man said.
[[Follow curiously]]
[[Ask his name]]
[[See if there is a way to escape]]It was with somewhat of a piqued curiosity that I continued following this strange wafting creature. I thought back to the one who had claimed they would buy me before him. I pondered their confidence. The likelihood of seeing them again felt slim. Even slimmer if I tried to run. So far, this creature did not seem to mean me harm, despite the weird foreboding nature that the Velvet Guard had given me. So I would follow. For now at least.
Each passage had a member of the guard standing alert at the entrance. Their swords gleamed in the lantern light and they looked far more equipped with weapons and an eager desire for action. We approached the closest of them, a broad shouldered woman with a severe cut to her jaw and a scar that swept across her lip.
“Papers,” she demanded.
The man nearly toppled as he dug them from the depths of his pinstriped pockets. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he winked upon glancing at me.
Handing them over, we waited as the guard made sure everything was in order. She looked at me for one long and abating moment, making the reality of this not quite being over a looming fear that clung to my shoulders. But upon finding nothing wrong, she shoved the papers back at the nameless man and stepped aside.
The man tittered at her, a high pitched sound that was meant to be laughter, as he tipped an imaginary hat her way. She only rolled her eyes at him, and paid me no mind as I passed. When she stepped back into place, all sounds from the beachfront gavel were gone, as if silence was a door that had just shut at our backs.
[[Next|Bail Block 3]]Despite the foreboding words that that guard had given me, the being before me did not seem to be one of malice. Thinking back to my moments within the pens, his presence would have most likely been a terrifying one to behold. His height and his unnatural eyes were enough to put me in a state of unease. But now, following him to what I hoped was freedom, felt right.
“Do you have a name?” I asked, struggling to keep up with its long strides.
“Timber,” it called out to me, laughing at a joke I was not privy to.
Each passage had a member of the guard standing alert at the entrance. Their swords gleamed in the lantern light and they looked far more equipped with weapons and an eager desire for action. We approached the closest of them, a broad shouldered woman with a severe cut to her jaw and a scar that swept across her lip.
“Papers,” she demanded.
The man nearly toppled as he dug them from the depths of his pinstriped pockets. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he winked upon glancing at me.
Handing them over, we waited as the guard made sure everything was in order. She looked at me for one long and abating moment, making the reality of this not quite being over a looming fear that clung to my shoulders. But upon finding nothing wrong, she shoved the papers back at the nameless man and stepped aside.
The man tittered at her, a high pitched sound that was meant to be laughter, as he tipped an imaginary hat her way. She only rolled her eyes at him, and paid me no mind as I passed. When she stepped back into place, all sounds from the beachfront gavel were gone, as if silence was a door that had just shut at our backs.
[[Next|Bail Block 3]]My eyes darted down the passageways looping before us. There had to be a break somewhere that I could take advantage of. Maybe someplace small that I could crawl in, hindering any sort of pursuit. But each passage between buildings was guarded by the red shoulders of the Velvet Guard. Unlike the ones down at the beach, these ones looked entirely ready to rid themselves of any nuisance.
“No no no,” the wafting man sang. “Bad idea.” His voice sounded odd. Like a bad recording set on loop. There was a sense of discomfort that came along to it that had me stopping in my tracks and considering just taking my chances with running. Disappearing into the crowd didn't seem entirely impractical now that I was out of both my chains and cage.
Long arms wrapped around me, sending me jumping as my gaze skittered towards the man in the pinstriped suit. He leaned comically forward, his noodle-like arms pulling me in slowly. Like molasses dripping down the bark of a tree.
“No no no,” it repeated.
I suddenly realized why he didn’t need charms to keep me. His reach was at least twice the breadth of my own.
Not letting me go, we approached the closest of them, a broad shouldered woman with a severe cut to her jaw and a scar that swept across her lip.
“Papers,” she demanded.
The man nearly toppled as he dug them from the depths of his pinstriped pockets. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he winked upon glancing at me.
Handing them over, we waited as the guard made sure everything was in order. She looked at me for one long and abating moment, making the reality of this not quite being over a looming fear that clung to my shoulders. But upon finding nothing wrong, she shoved the papers back at the nameless man and stepped aside.
The man tittered at her, a high pitched sound that was meant to be laughter, as he tipped an imaginary hat her way. She only rolled her eyes at him, and paid me no mind as I passed. When she stepped back into place, all sounds from the beachfront gavel were gone, as if silence was a door that had just shut at our backs.
[[Next|Bail Block 3]]
Darkness descended.
The lamplight from the courtyard was snuffed out in one slow breath. As I looked back, I could see only the barest outline of the guard who let us pass, but beyond her, nothing. There wasn’t even the blur of color. Instead, the alleyway became cold and biting, the cobblestone beneath my feet slick with fresh rain, and the walls on either side, thick with meandering vines that looked to have grown from a forgotten passage of time.
“Well, that was far easier than I thought it would be.”
I whipped around as the lilting voice of the man I had been following was replaced with the dulcet sweet tones of a tiny little woman.
Hazel.
Her name was Hazel.
The grin she offered me was one filled with relief, her cheeks flushed a darker sunkissed blush as she smoothed her hair back into place, tightening the scarf she had wrapped around her head.
“I thought that last guard had us for sure.”
[[Where did the really tall thing go?]]
[[You kept your promise]]
[[Hug her]]
I looked around, almost certain I was going to see the eight foot creature unsteady on its feet somewhere in front of me. Hazel was short by anyone’s standards but there was no way she had been hiding beneath the pinstripe suit herself.
“What just happened?”
She laughed at that, uncaring if anyone heard. It didn’t seem like there was anyone around to listen. “Come on. I’ll buy you some steamed buns and we can talk.” She turned on the heel of her boot, looking over her shoulder. Her lips were rolled into her mouth in a knowing grin. “Come on,” she said again.
I ducked after her.
While the alley didn’t narrow any further, or darken with shadow, the calm that was settling against me felt eerie. There was a claim the day now had on me that felt unreal despite my body showing physical signs of fatigue.
“It was a construct,” Hazel said after a moment. “Timber was made of woven grapevine and a few enchantments that I probably shouldn’t have. The bailers know me though and they know I like to get people out and set them free. So, I keep my head down and have Mr. Timber do all the work.”
I looked at her incredulously. “The guard said he manages the coal mines.”
“Is that the story they have about him this week?”
I had no answer to that. Unlike her, the concept of Mr. Timber was new and seemed like the cherry on top of a cake that was melting under confusion and exhaustion.
“I know you have questions,” she said, her voice tipping down into something much more soft. “I want to get a little food in your belly. Give you a chance to relax for a moment. This has all got to seem incredibly strange.”
[[I wouldn’t remember even if it was]]
[[(sarcasm) No. Not strange at all]]
[[It is. But thank you for coming to my rescue]]“It’s not like I would remember if it wasn’t,” I said bitterly.
Strange was an understatement of what I had so far gone through. I couldn’t begin to process the day's events or how I even came to be. There was a very real possibility that this was normal for me. With my memories faulty and not even a hint of an explanation as to what made them that way, I was left on uneven ground as I tried to gather what it was that I needed to do.
We turned the corner where the alley started to widen, the presence of overgrowth ebbing away. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I can’t remember a thing. I thought I did. I had a few memories back in the cells. I think. But they just…”
“Slipped away,” she finished for me. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes set straight ahead.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Something must have gone wrong then, when you came through the gate.”
“What gate?” I could see the flickering of lights up ahead as the sky began to glow with amber and the heady scent of spices ambled through. Turning the bend, I was surprised to see a bustling market street open up to us.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I stared at it all in awe.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]“No,” I started, my tone nonchalant. “No, being stuck inside a cage and gawked at for hours, only to be rescued by an imaginary twig man isn’t strange. Not strange at all.”
Hazel snorted a little in laughter, looking at me from the corner of her eye. “Good. Mr. Timber will be happy to hear that.”
“Mr. Timber,” I repeated. “I do like the creative name. Did you make him?”
“There’s this really neat spell that you can buy where you can animate up to twenty four feet of cord. It’s mainly so the fishermen can make self tying knots but I modified it to weave between the fibers of vines and….” she trailed off. “This is probably not helping you come to terms with your day, huh.”
[[Not really. Sorry]]
[[I like listening to you talk]]I took a deep and steadying breath. “No. Not really,” I told her. I wanted to inject some normalcy into the situation but I was starting to feel like that was nearly impossible when I was convinced this was a dream.
We walked in compatible silence for a few more moments. The sounds of life began clattering somewhere along the way. When I glanced at Hazel, however, she seemed unconcerned. I suppose papers weren’t really a thing anymore when you had recently been bailed from the docks. Still, I wasn’t sure how many more surprises I could take. How many more twists and turns would spin beneath my feet before I found a way home, or at the very least, a place to rest.
Turning the bend, I felt myself falter. Before me was a bustling street, lit with the heat from glowing paper lanterns.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]“No,” I assured her quickly. “It’s actually nice listening to someone talk.” Someone who wasn’t concerned about the kind of bail deals they could make that night. I didn’t feel like a prisoner in her presence. The emotions that had been plaguing me and guiding me thus far were beginning to ease. There was something about the woman in front of me that screamed safety and listening to her talk felt like the most normal thing I had done all day.
Glancing over at her, I saw a blush color the tops of her cheeks as she fiddled with the baubles that were slung low on her hip. “People just say that,” she laughed. “But when I really get going I think they regret it.” Her voice was joking but I could hear the underlying hurt beneath her words.
[[No. I mean it. Talk more]]
[[People can be shitty]]I stopped. In the dirty little alleyway, covered in moss and littered with empty bottles, I looked at this woman who I barely knew, feeling a strange sort of affection for her. “I wouldn’t regret it,” I said firmly. “You’ve shown me kindness tonight. The least I can do is listen to you talk. Besides, hearing another voice is much more preferable than listening to the thoughts in my own head.”
Big doe eyes flecked with gold and green stared at me. There was a way in which she held herself in that moment, as if she were trying to decide if I was lying to her. The amount of times that woman had been tricked before was reflected back at me.
“Alright,” she said softly. Almost hesitant. “I’ll keep going.” She screwed her face up into something serious then, placing her hands on her hips. “But you’ll tell me if I’m boring you, right? None of this keeping silent for silence’s sake?”
I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. “I’ll tell you.”
We walked then, words that I hardly understood tumbling out of Hazel’s mouth at a rapid speed. It became clear that it was not about what she was saying but about me listening. I didn’t need to understand her to offer her that gratitude.
I let myself attach to her voice, my feet carrying me forward on their own volition, following her around sharp corners and narrow passages that were crumbling with disuse. But as we turned the last bend, I felt myself falter. Before me was a bustling street, lit with the heat from glowing paper lanterns.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]“Look,” I said, continuing to walk with her through the alley. I had no idea where we were going but knew Hazel would gently guide me the right way. “People can be shitty. Don’t stop doing what you love because they’re miserable.”
Her eyes snapped to me. Big doe eyes flecked with green and gold that held the utmost surprise by my words. “You sound like my brother,” she muttered. There was a sadness there that flickered momentarily but she hid it well. Staring ahead, she tapped at a blue swirling vial at her hip. “You really want to hear me talk?”
“I really do.” If only for the chance to drown out the incessant thoughts in my own head.
“Alright.” It was said in such a hushed and hopeful whisper that I felt my own heart ache a little. When she launched into a story about how she formed Mr. Timber, I didn’t dare interrupt. I only understood every third or forth sentence but it was clear that the act of listening was much more important to her than understanding.
I let myself attach to her voice, my feet carrying me forward on their own volition, following her around sharp corners and narrow passages that were crumbling with disuse. But as we turned the last bend, I felt myself falter. Before me was a bustling street, lit with the heat from glowing paper lanterns.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]“It is,” I told her. The lack of memory alone was enough to send me spinning into a swell of panic and fearful anger. I knew the answers to what had happened to me were lingering somewhere out there, but they were glistening cobwebs that disintegrated within my grasp.
“Thank you,” I said. “You got me out and you didn’t have to.”
“I wish I could do more,” she said sadly. “I hate those bail blocks. I mean, some of it is legitimate. There are people there that this works for and there are certainly a fair amount that should have to pay for what they’ve done. But people like you are far too often slipping between the cracks and being sold off to the unfair and unkind.” She shook her head, waving off anything I might have been about to say. “That’s for later though. If you want to ask about it, that is. Food is far more important. And a soft bed.”
I couldn’t argue with her about that. If I thought I could get away with not eating and going straight to the bed, I would. Though my stomach was protesting loudly at the thought.
I stumbled after her, my head down as I tried to concentrate on the movement of my feet. The steady steps helped to drown out the thoughts swirling within my mind. Soon, the filtered sound of another crowd of people began echoing down the alley towards us. As I lifted my head, I saw that the sky had tinged amber and blush and the delectable scent of fresh cooked food began to wrap around me.
While I knew civilization was at hand, nothing prepared me for when I turned the bend.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]I hadn’t thought I would see her again. There had been a small desire for it to have been her hand that bought me while I was standing among the white lights but when I saw the towering form of whatever that monstrosity in the green suit was, I had felt myself give up hope. She had quickly been denoted to just another knot in a string of people who had shown interest in my services.
But she stood before me now, face flushed, looking incredibly proud of herself. “You came for me,” I said, almost bewildered that a stranger could even care.
“Of course I did.” Her hands were on her hips, her legs spread wide in some power pose that looked more adorable than anything else. Though, I didn't doubt that she would absolutely kick the shit out of me if I tested her. “You stuck out like a sore thumb. It was clear you didn’t belong in those pens like some of the others.”
I was unsure if anyone really belonged in such degradation, but then again, I had only seen a thin slice of what this night was, and my own perception had been easily filtered through my lack of understanding.
“Did you like Mr. Timber?” she asked. A pile of twigs and what looked like broken vines were scattered around her feet. “He’s quite useful, despite his off putting appearance,” she continued. “It’s the eyes. I know the eyes are the creepy element to it all but I haven’t found anything else that quite works.”
“He wasn’t real?” I glanced down at the pile of debris warily, as if it would bounce back up into the swaying form of ‘Mr. Timber’.
“A construct,” she said. “So I suppose that depends on what your definition of ‘real’ is.”
[[I was getting a headache]]
[[This was endlessly facinating]]I pinched the bridge of my nose. The dull throb of something steady thrummed at the base of my skull. It was all just too much.
“Oh,” I heard her breathe. “Right. Calm it down there, Hazel,” she said to herself. “Not of this world, remember? Stupid.”
I heard her booted feet approach as she pressed something cold into my hand. It was a small vial filled with pitch black liquid. A rubber stopper corked the contents in place, and despite it having been on her person, it was still frigid. I stared at it dumbly for a moment, unsure what I was supposed to do.
“It’ll help,” she said. “It’s kafe with a little bit of painkillers crushed up in it. I find it’s good for most aches and pains. Especially headaches.”
“What’s kafe?”
“Oh, uh, the closest equivalent I can think of is espresso. But a tad bit spicier. Carries more of a punch.”
[[Drink it]]
[[No thanks]]I drank it without question. If it was to make me feel better, why wouldn’t I want several?
The liquid was bitter on my tongue, with a hint of cinnamon or some other milder spice mixed in. I couldn’t taste the chalky aftertaste of a pain pill and despite it not being my favorite taste at the moment, I did feel the pain ease almost instantly.
“I still need to perfect it,” she said, taking back the empty vial.
We stood there in silence, awkwardly lingering in the uncertainty of what was supposed to be done next.
“I know you have questions,” she said, her voice tipping down into something much more soft. She rocked on her feet a little, a nervous shift from side to side. “I want to get food in your belly though. Give you a chance to relax for a moment. This has all got to seem incredibly strange. Just follow me and let me take care of you for the night. Tomorrow, if you want to set out on your own, I won’t stop you.”
The idea was both terrifying and appealing and one in which I knew the current state of my addled brain could not handle. So I followed her.
I stumbled after her, my head down as I tried to concentrate on the movement of my feet. The steady steps helped to drown out the thoughts swirling within my mind. Soon, the filtered sound of another crowd of people began echoing down the alley towards us. As I lifted my head, I saw that the sky had tinged amber and blush and the delectable scent of fresh cooked food began to wrap around me.
While I knew civilization was at hand, nothing prepared me for when I turned the bend.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]“No thanks,” I said, handing it back to her. While I had very few reservations about the woman in front of me now, being unsure of small tonics given to me by a stranger seemed like a smart choice. If Hazel was offended by it, she didn't say. Only took the vial back and tucked it away.
We stood there in silence, awkwardly lingering in the uncertainty of what was supposed to be done next.
“I know you have questions,” she said, her voice tipping down into something much more soft. She rocked on her feet a little, a nervous shift from side to side. “I want to get food in your belly though. Give you a chance to relax for a moment. This has all got to seem incredibly strange. Just follow me and let me take care of you for the night. Tomorrow, if you want to set out on your own, I won’t stop you.”
The idea was both terrifying and appealing and one in which I knew the current state of my addled brain could not handle. So I followed her.
I stumbled after her, my head down as I tried to concentrate on the movement of my feet. The steady steps helped to drown out the thoughts swirling within my mind. Soon, the filtered sound of another crowd of people began echoing down the alley towards us. As I lifted my head, I saw that the sky had tinged amber and blush and the delectable scent of fresh cooked food began to wrap around me.
While I knew civilization was at hand, nothing prepared me for when I turned the bend.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]Now that the current round of danger seemed to be over, I felt myself looking around at this world with a little bit of a fresher gaze. Or maybe it was an exhausted one where my second wind was about to have me make a number of poor choices that I would regret after a decent amount of sleep. Either way, I felt myself grow curious, and upon looking at Hazel, it was clear she was all too eager to talk.
“So you made a sentient being to go buy people from the bail blocks?” I asked.
“He does other things,” she protested with a small laugh. “He is very good at getting down the high to reach jars. But essentially, yes. He is my proxy.”
“He’s made out of twigs.”
“Grapevine, actually.” She motioned for me to begin following her and I was not about to protest at putting a bit more distance between me and the beach. “I know you probably have a lot of questions,” she said. “I want to get you some food and sleep and then I’d be willing to answer them all.”
“I’d appreciate that,” I said. I had a feeling the further I dove into the Night Market itself, the more likely I was to need someone to trust.
“The Night Market really isn’t that complicated,” she told me. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. Sounds like your only issue so far has been lack of papers but I’ll have that all in order for you before you know it.”
[[Why are you helping me?]]
[[Do you know how to get my memories back?]]
[[Thank you for helping me]]“Why are you doing all this? You don’t even know me?” The thought of her turning and leaving me in this alley was not a possibility I wanted to face, but I had to know. Just why would she go out of her way and risk her life for a stranger?
Her eyes were distant, ticking downwards as she fiddled with the baubles that hung low on her hip. I spied the way she ghosted over one. It looked like a necklace of some sort. A small gold chain with a pendant tucked into the pockets of her skirt.
“You don’t belong here,” she said after a long moment. “There’s a lot of you that have started popping in and not belonging here. Helping you, helping all of them, gives me purpose.”
I didn’t know what to say after that. How was I to press something that she obviously held dear. Instead, I looked at her softly, nodding my head in what I hoped she realized was appreciation and understanding.
There was a somewhat comfortable silence as the two of us continued to walk. The steady steps of our feet helped to drown out the thoughts swirling within my mind. Soon, the filtered sound of another crowd of people began echoing down the alley towards us. As I lifted my head, I saw that the sky had tinged amber and blush and the delectable scent of fresh cooked food began to wrap around me.
While I knew civilization was at hand, nothing prepared me for when I turned the bend.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]“You wouldn’t know how I could get my memories back, do you?”
Her lips curled into her mouth, a nervous tick I had observed from her a few times now. “How bad are they?”
I tried to grasp onto something of home. Anything that would have been a core memory I could cling to. But other than the feel of a soft green quilt, I had nothing. Nothing but the sweet scent of cranberry muffins and a brief image of a mossy knoll somewhere
“Sometimes I think I remember something,” I confessed. “But it just slips away so quickly.”
She didn’t look surprised by this and that alone felt foreboding. “Are you hungry?” she asked. The switch in subject made me feel all the worse. Though, I also couldn’t ignore the growl of my stomach.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Answers will come.” She motioned me to follow her. “I promise you I’m not trying to keep them from you. Just… maybe wait until you’ve gotten some rest. It’s been a long day.”
The steady steps of our feet helped to drown out the thoughts swirling within my mind as we continued to walk. The passing night was a bit more calm now that I had settled into my position at her side. No longer did I think a member of the guard would be popping from the shadows to drag me back to the pens.
Soon, the filtered sound of another crowd of people began echoing down the alley towards us. As I lifted my head, I saw that the sky had tinged amber and blush and the delectable scent of fresh cooked food began to wrap around me.
While I knew civilization was at hand, nothing prepared me for when I turned the bend.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]“Thank you,” I said. “You got me out and you didn’t have to.”
“I wish I could do more,” she said sadly. “I hate those bail blocks. I mean, some of it is legitimate. There are people there that this works for and there are certainly a fair amount that should have to pay for what they’ve done. But people like you are far too often slipping between the cracks and being sold off to the unfair and unkind.” She shook her head, waving off anything I might have been about to say. “That’s for later though. If you want to ask about it. Food is far more important. And a soft bed.”
I couldn’t argue with her about that. If I thought I could get away with not eating and going straight to the bed, I would. Though my stomach was protesting loudly at the thought.
I stumbled after her, my head down as I tried to concentrate on the movement of my feet. The steady steps helped to drown out the thoughts swirling within my mind. Soon, the filtered sound of another crowd of people began echoing down the alley towards us. As I lifted my head, I saw that the sky had tinged amber and blush and the delectable scent of fresh cooked food began to wrap around me.
While I knew civilization was at hand, nothing prepared me for when I turned the bend.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. The market owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
Hazel reached out, squeezing my hand upon seeing the shock that was clear across my face. “Welcome to the Night Market,” she said with a toothy grin. “Come on. I’ll buy you a bun.”
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two Hazel]]My arms wrapped around her almost instinctively. She was shorter than me but her arms curled around me with a warmth I had yet to feel. My throat became clogged with gratitude as her hand trailed up my back in a slow and comforting line.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. For the first time today, I believed in something. I believed in this random stranger who smelled like basil and cotton. I trusted her to bring me to safety.
Pulling away, I wiped my eyes. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I knew nothing about this woman and yet I was holding onto her like a small child, ready to weep into the folds of her skirts. Her smile was soft and understanding though and she did not back away. The small presence of her comfort was welcomed.
Gathering myself, I swallowed thickly, trying for all the world not to look like someone who had launched themselves at a perfect stranger. Even though that was exactly what I was.
“I know you have questions,” she said, her voice tipping down into something much more soft. “I want to get a little food in your belly. Give you a chance to relax for a moment. This has all got to seem incredibly strange.”
[[I wouldn’t remember even if it was]]
[[(sarcasm) No. Not strange at all]]
[[It is. But thank you for coming to my rescue]]<img src="images/Chapter header 1 smaller.png"
height="300" width="900">
A violent sea fell upon itself, the waves tumbling over each other as they vied to reach the shore in a screaming crash. They stood out starkly against the night, the white caps a boiling starkness against a black backdrop of endless horizon that looked as if it had been hand stitched and hung against a starlit sky. Silver flecks of life burst across a murky fabric sky, dazzling all those it blanketed. It nearly didn’t look real.
The shoreline itself was a mess of wet and worn sand, dotted with wooden cages sinking into the soft foundation below. Three pens stood on top of each other, glorified crates that had been dropped by giants, only to topple into the ocean carelessly. The ones that did stand housed creatures with vaguely humanoid forms. Some were stretched out within their watery boxes while others could barely turn amid their narrow confines.
My breath caught in my throat as I took it all in. Toes curling at the edge of a sheer cliff, I looked down at the world unfolding before me. The Warden had already begun walking down a sloping path made of loose pebble and displaced sand. A tail flicked out of the water below in a curled snap before diving back down and cutting the water with jagged electric cracks. In that brief flash, I saw the writhing masses of hundreds of eels, gyrating in a knotted mess of slippery flesh.
“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to drag you all the way there,” the Warden called out. His tone was an accumulation of the irritation he tried to calm, and a boredom he tried to master.
My eyes snapped towards him, looking past him at the beach below and the piled boxes filled with the condemned. Just beyond, was a row of tilted buildings, crumbling into nothing but with warm lighting spilling from their open doors and windows. Slotted between the row of buildings and the ocean stood a throng of people. They milled about, laughing, speaking among themselves, and looking as if they were attending a ball.
I looked towards the Warden in stark disbelief. This could not possibly be reality.
[[Are all these people for auction?]]
[[Do you realize how fucked up this is?]]
[[What did these people do to deserve this?]]
<<set $pits to "true">> <<set $blackbands to "true">> <<set $workforhazel to "false">> <<set $workforgabriel to "true">> <<set $fleshpits to "true">>“All of these people are prisoners?” My tone was laden with disbelief. The pens were lined up and down the shoreline, some having toppled precariously over and taken by the waves. More than one body floated face down within the water, having chosen death over whatever their future now held.
“We do not refer to them as prisoners,” the Warden said. “They are here for penance. It is a far better system than incarceration and allows people to work off their debt to society.”
That was how he was justifying it then. Community service. Yet, when I looked down at the people I could see within the pens, most did not look like they could afford the time away from their jobs or the life they were cobbling together. Unlike the people who milled before them, they did not look to be made of expensive finery. The ones who did, either looked bored with the tedium of the begging souls before them, or were laughing as if they were in on one large cosmic joke.
“There are so many,” I breathed in disbelief.
“It has been a busier week than normal,” The Warden said in agreement. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were cast forward. Not once had I seen him even look over to the pens.
As our feet hit the ground, I could feel the way the sand gave beneath my shoes. I wondered the fate of the bottom cages as high tide came in.
“You, however, will not be going here,” he was saying. We walked in silence past the holding pens. Past the finely dressed people who laughed and carried parasols of expensive lace. With no choice, I followed the Warden until we came to the auction block itself, a thick wood structure with beaded curtains framing a backboard of gold. He walked behind it, the world around us growing quieter.
[[So does your society thrive on the buying and selling of others]]
[[We got off on the wrong foot]]
[[Apologize to him]]“There is absolutely no way you can look at this and be okay with what is going on,” I said. People were weeping within cages while others looked bored and in various states of sleep. Whether they were guilty or not was not on me to pass judgment, but to be penned and then placed on display seemed barbaric even in light of a crime.
Yet the man in front of me had already shown very little empathy and I doubted that this was anything more than another day of work for him.
“Your attempts at guilting me into morality are sub par at best,” he said.
“Someone has to do it,” I snapped. There was a gnawing pit within me that felt like taking the man and shaking him until he saw some amount of reason. “What happened to you to make you think this is the answer to any situation?” I saw him jerk his hand too late and ended up stumbling forward, falling to the ground. The black bands were stark against my wrist, the faint smell of burnt flesh still lingering.
“Oh. Apologies.” I looked up. He stood over me, his face blank. Before I could get my bearings, he turned on one booted foot and walked away.
[[So does your society thrive on the buying and selling of others]]
[[We got off on the wrong foot]]
[[Apologize to him]]With little choice, I stumbled after him, finding that each time I tugged on the burnt marks against my skin, a more distinct pull carded through me. The Warden didn’t even flinch, though I was unsure if the bond went both ways.
“Do you even know what these people did?” I asked, feeling the desire to continue speaking, to egg him on. I had no control over my body but I had every control over the words that I spoke. “Do you even care?”
A snort of laughter sounded from somewhere before me and I was unsure if it was him or an echo from the beach below. “Do you?” he parried. “You know nothing of the life forms in there. You know not what they’ve done? Your indignation is not altruistic by any means.”
I could feel myself bristle at my words, and as if to make his point, he tugged me forward just a bit further, just to keep my feet uncertain beneath me.
“My only crime is that I walked accidently into your world,” I threw at him. “Your punishment does not fit and you know it.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “But your lack of cooperation leads me to believe that you are to be an unnecessary blight on society and with no way to prove that you are not a threat that has slipped through our gates, I do not feel an indiscernible amount of guilt over simply getting rid of you.”
“That statement alone is so very telling.”
“Yes, well, pity that whatever it tells you will be of no use with where you are going.”
I stumbled after him in silence past the holding pens. Past the finely dressed people who laughed and carried parasols of expensive lace. With no choice, I followed the warden until we came to the auction block itself, a thick wood structure with beaded curtains framing a backboard of gold. He walked behind it, the world around us growing quieter.
[[So does your society thrive on the buying and selling of others]]
[[We got off on the wrong foot]]
[[Apologize to him]]“I’m curious,” I said, my tone indicating absolutely no curiosity other than the desire to piss this man off. “Does your society thrive on the buying and selling of others or is this simply a fun pastime in your culture?”
“We are not buying and selling,” he said. I could nearly feel the roll of his eyes.
“Really? Because I see people locked in cages down there and a big old stage that looks as if they are giving said people, to the highest bidder.”
“You have impeccable eyesight,” he said. “Fantastic. Good eyes always reach a higher price.”
I stumbled, not knowing if it was due to the jerk of his hand or a loose rock beneath my feet. When I reached out to steady myself, I felt my palm scrape against the jagged surface of the cliffside. Beneath that slab of rock and stone I knew housed numerous cells, some with people waiting to get processed. It only fueled my anger.
“So you have simply convinced yourself you are not buying and selling them.”
The Warden stopped, a clear look of annoyance on his face, but for whatever reason, he deemed it necessary to take the time to explain the situation at hand.
“Those people down there are in violation of our laws. Some infractions are ones that no society should willingly allow to roam the streets. As a governing body, we have decided that there are of course people that should never see the light of day again. Those go to the flesh pens. While the ones who have simply offended a different culture or subsect of people unwillingly, due to their ignorance shall just have a bail to be paid. The bail blocks allow penance to be served which eases the offending party, but does not impede on the general quality of life of the person who has enacted the offense. It is a system that for the most part, works.”
“You have people in cages,” I said, speaking slowly and as if to a very small child.
“We do,” he agreed. “Once, we let them just stand in a group together. Fourteen got knifed and seven others went missing at sea.” Patience was thin with this man and as my eyes ticked down to the sword I wondered if he was far more accustomed to getting his way in other ways. “But your concern should not be for the morality of a situation or the bail block itself.”
He waited until I opened my mouth to respond before yanking me forward with whatever magic he had embedded into my wrists.
I stumbled after him in silence past the holding pens. Past the finely dressed people who laughed and carried parasols of expensive lace. With no choice, I followed the Warden until we came to the bail block itself, a thick wood structure with beaded curtains framing a backboard of gold. He walked behind it, the world around us growing quieter.
[[Ask for a second chance]]
[[Continue on, head held high|Flesh pens 1]]
I breathed deeply, staring at the man who kept two feet ahead of me. Maybe I had gone about this all wrong. I was scared and looking at the masses gathered in and out of rickety framed cages did little to calm my nerves. I knew nothing of the world I was in other than the small bits of information I had gleaned from the blue eyed man. And my anger, while warranted, was starting to abate and leave me with a sickening sense of dread.
“Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” I tried. The Warden didn’t look over his shoulder or break his stride. I had to try though. There had to be something I could say to keep me from going down to the flat of that beach and waiting out an undeserving fate.
“Unfortunately, prisoner 47b, I am not a man that gives second chances to those who do not wish to cooperate.”
“And if I would like to cooperate now?”
He acted as if he didn’t hear me. I got the distinct feeling it maybe have been too late for that concession and felt my stomach roll.
[[Ask for a second chance]]
[[Continue on, head held high|Flesh pens 1]]“I’m sorry,” I started. “I should have cooperated. I know that now.” Reality was beginning to set in where it had not before and I was coming to realize if I didn’t do something quick, this life of mine was going to be cut short.
“Funny how quickly you remember manners when faced with looming fear.” His back was still to me as we made the slow journey down the sloping path. Loose pebble and sand ground beneath my feet, causing my steps to be unsteady at best.
“I was scared. I still am. Can’t you understand that?” He said nothing, his back rigid. “I am not a spy or whatever it is that you are worried I am. I swear to you, I am just someone who is confused and lost and wanting to get home.”
Again, nothing. Not even a flinch at my pleas. How many times had he heard something similar? I doubted I was the first to have begged for my life.
I watched his hand curl against his hip but he did not turn to me. Silently, I chose to follow.
He took a clipped turn past the broken down cages and a group of people admiring a brawny looking man inside, debating on how much he could lift and whether or not he was worth the bail price. The bail block loomed ahead. A man with long black braids stood center stage, exciting the crowd. The Warden bypassed him, going behind the large stage and the ramshackle steps that led up to him.
“Please,” I tried again. “You can’t do this. I did nothing wrong.” My heart was starting to skitter in my chest, threatening to burst forward and escape into nothing. “I…” I fell short.
[[Next|Flesh pens 1]]“Can we try this again? I would love to give you a name but I don't remember it,” I breathed out. I had been defeated and if I didn’t do something quick, I wouldn’t have much of a life to reflect on. “If I could, I would happily give it to you.” Or at least, now, I felt like that may have been the better option. Defiance over something I felt was not my fault had seemed so good when I was enacting it. But it did not pan out in my favor. That much was incredibly clear.
“A paltry offering of your name is not going to keep you from your fate,” he commented. There was a slight edge to his voice. I wondered if it was easier to cast prisoners towards their demise when you didn’t have a name to the face.
“I want to try again,” I attempted. “I’ll cooperate. Just please, whatever is down there, I do not wish to be a part of.”
“And yet you were so adamant while in the safe confines of my office that you would face this gladly rather than cooperate when asked simple questions. Questions meant only to give you some form of identification.” Gray eyes flashed to me over a set of broad shoulders. “You have made your own path, I’m afraid.”
“And I am admitting to my mistake,” I almost yelled.
“Unfortunately for you, I do not care. Second chances are not handed out. Not by me.”
“Please,” I tried again. “You can’t do this. I did nothing wrong.” My heart was starting to skitter in my chest, threatening to burst forward and escape into nothing. “I…” I fell short.
[[Next|Flesh pens 1]]The smell hit me first. The scent of sweat and decay was pungent on the night wind. Accompanied by the low sounds of moans and the occasional cry for help. A large pit had been dug in the sand where the occasional wave spilled into the deep basin, drowning out the pained moans momentarily.
I felt my breath leave me.
A few others stood around, looking down into the pit and occasionally pointing at someone specific. There was a woman with coiled green hair piled high on her head that seemed to be orchestrating it all. When a price was finally settled on, she would jot the buyer's name down in a gold embossed book before motioning for a group of soldiers dressed in velvet, to retrieve a prisoner.
A platform was lowered into the pit where the body in question was dragged out and forced to lie flat at the guards feet. Scarred hands reached upwards, making desperate grabs for the wooden planks, both trying to tip the guards down to their level and find a way out. Booted heels came down on their hands and face, knocking them off. A gun cracked loudly as one tried to fight back, only to receive a bullet in return.
“Ah, Warden Caine, so nice to see you.” The green haired woman smiled at us, her two front teeth capped with sapphires. “A new one then?”
“Yes. Bail was insufficient.”
[[Try to appeal to the woman]]
[[Stay silent and small]]
[[Glare at the woman]]“Please,” I started. “This man has taken me off the streets for nothing. I didn’t do anything. I shouldn’t be here. I–” My voice guttered out, my words falling away as the Warden clenched his fist, stealing the sound of my voice. I looked down as the bands around my wrists flared bright.
The woman laughed upon seeing me, her eyes twinkling in delight. “Oh, a feisty one,” she leered. “You know, Caine, no one is going to mind if you keep one for yourself from time to time. I have a night set aside to allow for a quick disposal when you’re done with them.”
Before I could react a spray of blood arced across the back of her hand, small beaded drops falling to the sand at her feet. She covered it quickly, looking up towards the Warden in brief shock before hissing in pain.
“Unnecessary,” she said with a small pout. Obviously, whatever it had been, had not hurt her much.
“So were your comments,” the Warden said. “I would advise that be the last you say them to me and I only give you a warning out of courtesy. A formal investigation will be launched within the upcoming days.”
The woman gave a throaty laugh, as if this was an old joke. “Wouldn’t be the first, Caine. Wouldn’t be the first.” Wiping the blood on the back of her pants, she looked at him. Though I couldn’t help but notice the few steps she now put between them. “Well, you know the drill. It is quite busy here today so just toss them in. We’ve learned to streamline things and we are no longer taking descriptions. Much easier to have the customers just point, don’t you think?” She moved as if to rib him, a camaraderie being forced that was obviously not there. She stopped short with a glance down at her hand. “It’s nice not having to explain when one or two of them get ‘lost’.”
Warden Caine did not smile. He didn’t even blink at her. She was worthless and merely a forgettable part of his day.
“Solia! Got another buyer!”
The woman looked over her shoulder, the tension falling away as the roar of the bail block behind us filtered back in. “Oh, well, Baron Elias is here,” she said with an eager grin. “This will be profitable. Excuse me, Warden.”
The woman walked off, her hand in the air as she waved to get the young man's attention. He looked like a child with skin of porcelain, the ruffled collar he wore around his neck obscuring half his chest.
[[Observe the Warden's actions]]
[[Try to quell your own panic]]
[[Look around for a way out]]I hunched in on myself. There was no real way to disappear. Not with the way the Warden had a hold of me through magical means or with the hungry look eliciting from the green haired woman's eyes. I tried though. I backed away from them as much as the bond could allow and kept my head down.
“Don’t usually see a shy one,” the woman said. I caught the way she leered at me, pleased at the display of obedience. “Honestly, Caine, no one is going to mind if you keep one for yourself from time to time. I have a night set aside to allow for a quick disposal when you’re done with them.”
I heard a snap and the telling sound of a strip of flesh opening. My eyes lifted to see the woman holding her hand. Blood pooled between her fingers despite the Warden not having moved.
“Unnecessary,” she said with a small pout. Obviously, whatever it had been, had not hurt her much.
“So were your comments,” the Warden said. “I would advise that be the last you say them to me and I only give you a warning out of courtesy. A formal investigation will be launched within the upcoming days.”
The woman gave a throaty laugh, as if this was an old joke. “Wouldn’t be the first, Caine. Wouldn’t be the first.” Wiping the blood on the back of her pants, she looked at him. Though I couldn’t help but notice the few steps she now put between them. “Well, you know the drill. It is quite busy here today so just toss them in. We’ve learned to streamline things and we are no longer taking descriptions. Much easier to have the customers just point, don’t you think?” She moved as if to rib him, a camaraderie being forced that was obviously not there. She stopped short with a glance down at her hand. “It’s nice not having to explain when one or two of them get ‘lost’.”
Warden Caine did not smile. He didn’t even blink at her. She was worthless and merely a forgettable part of his day.
“Solia! Got another buyer!”
The woman looked over her shoulder, the tension falling away as the roar of the bail block behind us filtered back in. “Oh, well, Baron Elias is here,” she said with an eager grin. “This will be profitable. Excuse me, Warden.”
The woman walked off, her hand in the air as she waved to get the young man's attention. He looked like a child with skin of porcelain, the ruffled collar he wore around his neck obscuring half his chest.
[[Observe the Warden's actions]]
[[Try to quell your own panic]]
[[Look around for a way out]]I could feel the anger bubbling again. The complete disregard for humanity was sickening at this point and I found biting words quick at my throat. If this was going to be my final moments, I might as well make them count.
The woman laughed upon seeing me, her eyes twinkling in delight. “Oh, a feisty one,” she leered. “You know, Caine, no one is going to mind if you keep one for yourself from time to time. I have a night set aside to allow for a quick disposal when you’re done with them.”
Before I could react a spray of blood arced across the back of her hand, small beaded drops falling to the sand at her feet. She covered it quickly, looking up towards the Warden in brief shock before hissing in pain.
“Unnecessary,” she said with a small pout. Obviously, whatever it had been, had not hurt her much.
“So were your comments,” the Warden said. “I would advise that be the last you say them to me and I only give you a warning out of courtesy. A formal investigation will be launched within the upcoming days.”
The woman gave a throaty laugh, as if this was an old joke. “Wouldn’t be the first, Caine. Wouldn’t be the first.” Wiping the blood on the back of her pants, she looked at him. Though I couldn’t help but notice the few steps she now put between them. “Well, you know the drill. It is quite busy here today so just toss them in. We’ve learned to streamline things and we are no longer taking descriptions. Much easier to have the customers just point, don’t you think?” She moved as if to rib him, a camaraderie being forced that was obviously not there. She stopped short with a glance down at her hand. “It’s nice not having to explain when one or two of them get ‘lost’.”
Warden Caine did not smile. He didn’t even blink at her. She was worthless and merely a forgettable part of his day.
“Solia! Got another buyer!”
The woman looked over her shoulder, the tension falling away as the roar of the bail block behind us filtered back in. “Oh, well, Baron Elias is here,” she said with an eager grin. “This will be profitable. Excuse me, Warden.”
The woman walked off, her hand in the air as she waved to get the young man's attention. He looked like a child with skin of porcelain, the ruffled collar he wore around his neck obscuring half his chest.
[[Observe the Warden's actions]]
[[Try to quell your own panic]]
[[Look around for a way out]]The world around was in a constant state of exchange. Behind us, I could hear the coming and goings as bails were settled and contracts were signed. I tried not to look too long into the pit sinking into the earth. The bodies were starting to pile high enough that clawing hands were peeking up over the side, only to fall back down as loose sand gave way beneath their fingers.
Across the way, I could see Solia speaking with Baron Elias, the boy with the ruffles and a porcelain grin that looked sharp as glass. She fidgeted under his scrutiny which only made him giggle behind an upturned hand. The entire exchange cracked across the backside of the bail block in an awkward dance where Solia looked as if she might throw herself into the flesh pens and the Baron looked as if he’d waltz her to the edge.
Then there was The Warden. While his eyes remained steadfast and forward I could tell he was taking in the actions around us. It was with a small flick of his gaze that he observed our surroundings. Looking at the details rather than the broad sweeping actions itself. His eyes lingered far too long on the Baron, his hands going to his pockets where I could see a small lump of something inside.
“Belladonna will be most pleased with your purchase,” someone was saying behind us. I watched as his gaze snapped backwards, his eyes narrowing. It was a couple near the bail blocks, signing papers that a curly haired woman held out. I had no idea why the exchange itself peeked the man's interest but it was enough to shatter, at least momentarily, that carefully choreographed control.
Whatever flicker of emotion I saw was gone almost as soon as it came. I turned my face away in hopes that he was unaware of my observation. Between the Baron and the mention of the woman, there was a single crack in his armor. Something so deep that it ran like a current beneath his feet, threatening to bring him to his knees. How could a man so intent on tossing innocents to their death feel anything though?
When he turned to me, his gray eyes searched my own. They were flat and devoid of remorse. But he made no move to toss me in like the woman, Solia, had suggested.
He only stood before me, the two of us facing each other, balancing along a knife’s edge.
“I will need your wrists,” he said flatly.
“Why?” Lack of cooperation is what had gotten me in this mess to begin with but I found myself, when faced with the writhing pile of bodies before me, lending myself back towards disobedience. Or at least blatant questioning. Though my voice was softer than it had been before.
“I will need to take the cuffs off.” The black bands around my wrists burned at the mention of them. Tendrils of silver magic wound around my bones, cuffing around tendon and muscle in a way that had me shifting uncomfortably.
Warden Caine advanced towards me, holding out his tanned palms. The intent was clear. He would take them off and I would then be tossed aside into the pit. Any hope of getting out of the Night Market alive took a dive upon that scenario.
Slowly, I set my blackened wrists within his grasp.
[[Try to run]]
[[Beg for mercy]]
[[Jump into the pit]]
Deep breaths. It was the only thing I could think to concentrate on that would allow me a steady pulse and a somewhat clear mind. Behind us, the banging of the gavel upon the bail stage boomed while the moans from the pits were nigh deafening. I tried not to look too long at the dip in the sand. The bodies were starting to pile high enough that clawing hands were peeking up over the side, only to fall back down as loose ground gave way beneath their fingers.
My heart dropped as I turned away. Even if I wanted to, there was no way I would be able to help them seeing as I was only moments from joining the discarded pile. Instead, I focused on the woman Solia. She was speaking with the Baron, fidgeting under his scrutiny. The man hid a giggle behind an upturned hand. The entire exchange cracked across the backside of the bail block in an awkward dance where Solia looked as if she might throw herself into the flesh pens and the Baron looked as if he’d waltz her to the edge.
Then there was The Warden. While his eyes remained steadfast and forward I could tell he was taking in the actions around us. It was with a small flick of his gaze that he observed the surroundings. Looking at the details rather than the broad sweeping actions itself. His eyes lingered far too long on the Baron, his hands going to his pockets where I could see a small lump of something inside.
“Belladonna will be most pleased with your purchase,” someone was saying behind us. I watched as his gaze snapped backwards though, his eyes narrowing. It was a couple near the bail blocks, signing papers that a curly haired woman held out. I had no idea why the exchange itself peeked the man's interest but it was enough to shatter, at least momentarily, that carefully choreographed control.
Whatever flicker of emotion I saw was gone almost as soon as it came. I turned my face away in hopes that he was unaware of my observation. Between the Baron and the mention of the woman, there was a single crack in his armor. Something so deep that it ran like a current beneath his feet, threatening to bring him to his knees. How could a man so intent on tossing innocents to their death feel anything though?
When he turned to me, his gray eyes searched my own. They were flat and devoid of remorse. But he made no move to toss me in like the woman, Solia, had suggested.
He only stood before me, the two of us facing each other, balancing along a knife’s edge.
“I will need your wrists,” he said flatly.
“Why?” Lack of cooperation is what had gotten me in this mess to begin with but I found myself, when faced with the writhing pile of bodies before me, lending myself back towards disobedience. Or at least blatant questioning. Though my voice was softer than it had been before.
“I will need to take the cuffs off.” The black bands around my wrists burned at the mention of them. Tendrils of silver magic wound around my bones, cuffing around tendon and muscle in a way that had me shifting uncomfortably.
Warden Caine advanced towards me, holding out his tanned palms. The intent was clear. He would take them off and I would then be tossed aside into the pit. Any hope of getting out of the Night Market alive took a dive upon that scenario.
Slowly, I set my blackened wrists within his grasp.
[[Try to run]]
[[Beg for mercy]]
[[Jump into the pit]]
My eyes raced around the beach. Darkness stretched beyond the artificial light burning on tall torches around us. I didn’t know what lay beyond it but it looked to be the only non populated area. If I could find a way to escape, that would be where I would have to head. Running back into the crowd was a last resort only.
Across the way, I could see Solia speaking with Baron Elias, the boy with the ruffles and a porcelain grin that looked sharp as glass. She fidgeted under his scrutiny which only made him giggle behind an upturned hand. The entire exchange cracked across the backside of the bail block in an awkward dance where Solia looked as if she might throw herself into the flesh pens and the Baron looked as if he’d waltz her to the edge. There was no cart or mode of transportation behind him though. No chance to stow away in someone else's belongings. From what I had observed on the way down here, I hadn’t seen anything that I could hide in if given the opportunity.
Then there was The Warden. While his eyes remained steadfast and forward I could tell he was taking in the actions around us. It was with a small flick of his gaze that he observed our surroundings. Looking at the details rather than the broad sweeping actions itself. His eyes lingered far too long on the Baron, his hands going to his pockets where I could see a small lump of something inside.
“Belladonna will be most pleased with your purchase,” someone was saying behind us. I watched as his gaze snapped backwards, his eyes narrowing. It was a couple near the bail blocks, signing papers that a curly haired woman held out. I had no idea why the exchange itself peeked the man's interest but it was enough to shatter, at least momentarily, that carefully choreographed control.
Whatever flicker of emotion I saw was gone almost as soon as it came. I turned my face away in hopes that he was unaware of my observation. Between the Baron and the mention of the woman, there was a single crack in his armor. Something so deep that it ran like a current beneath his feet, threatening to bring him to his knees. How could a man so intent on tossing innocents to their death feel anything though?
When he turned to me, his gray eyes searched my own. They were flat and devoid of remorse. But he made no move to toss me in like the woman, Solia, had suggested.
He only stood before me, the two of us facing each other, balancing along a knife’s edge.
“I will need your wrists,” he said flatly.
“Why?” Lack of cooperation is what had gotten me in this mess to begin with but I found myself, when faced with the writhing pile of bodies before me, lending myself back towards disobedience. Or at least blatant questioning. Though my voice was softer than it had been before.
“I will need to take the cuffs off.” The black bands around my wrists burned at the mention of them. Tendrils of silver magic wound around my bones, cuffing around tendon and muscle in a way that had me shifting uncomfortably.
Warden Caine advanced towards me, holding out his tanned palms. The intent was clear. He would take them off and I would then be tossed aside into the pit. Any hope of getting out of the Night Market alive took a dive upon that scenario.
Slowly, I set my blackened wrists within his grasp.
[[Try to run]]
[[Beg for mercy]]
[[Jump into the pit]]
His fingers curled around me, a cooling balm trickling across the raw flesh. I could feel the moment the magic dissipated. My stomach felt empty and I stumbled on my feet as an audible click echoed in my ears.
I didn’t hesitate. When he let me go, I took off down the beach, running past the buyers, past the strange child in ruffles and lace, and past the pit to a wide expanse of sand that stretched out into the dark. I didn’t care that I didn’t know where I was going. Only that I had to escape. I had to get away.
I fell face first into the sand as something slammed into my back. The wind rushed from me in a whoosh as rough hands grabbed me, flipping me around and pinning me to the wet ground beneath. The Captain loomed above me, a coil of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. His fingers flexed around my forearms as he pinned them above my head. Over his shoulder I could see the flesh pits still. No one seemed concerned about my escape.
No one except for this man who was pressing every ounce of muscled torso against me.
“Don’t make me sear my mark back into your skin,” he growled, his voice rumbling across me in a sick twist of a command.
I shivered, glancing down at my wrists. The black bands were a faded grey. So easily they could bruise back to black.
[[Ask for help]]
[[Defy him]]
[[Give up]]
<<set $fleshpits to "false">>
<<set $run to "true">>His fingers curled around me, a cooling balm trickling across the raw flesh. I could feel the moment the magic dissipated. My stomach felt empty and I stumbled on my feet as an audible click echoed in my ears.
His fingers remained curled around the soft flesh of my wrists. He looked like a man that had been done with me for some time now and while I looked up at him with wet eyes, I saw no mercy reflected back.
“Please,” I whispered. I could hear the tremor in my voice. He was immune to my pain. How could he not be when all around us the desperate were crying out for help. “I don’t want to go in there,” I continued. He had to understand that. There had to be some amount of good in this hardened exterior he portrayed.
[[Try to appeal to his good side]]
[[Try to bribe your way to release]]
<<set $fleshpits to "false">>
<<set $run to "true">>I stepped forward, the toe of my shoes pressing against the shine of his black boots. He still held my wrists, albeit looser as he looked at me bewildered. I wondered if anyone had ever used kindness on him before.
“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be this person.” I tilted my chin upwards, looking at him through the thick of my lashes. There was nothing playing across his face. Not flicker of empathy. But I had to try. There had to be something.
“You don’t seem like a cruel man,” I continued. “There has to be something inside you that knows this is wrong.” I could feel the heat curl from his body. The small puff of breath that was released from his parted lips. His gray eyes suddenly seemed darker, dilated and shadowed by the starlight that lit our way from above. Something beautiful swam above us, filled with light and song. An embrace so caring that it filled me with a gentle swell of peace. “You’re not made for this.”
I was jerked forward, the peace crumbling at my feet. The Wardens fingers were wrapping around my wrist in a bruising grip, darkening the bands that he had burned into my skin. My own feet stumbled beneath me, getting caught on wet bits of sand and discarded shoes and coats from the prisoners that now lay behind us. He took me off to the side where guards still lingered but we had some form of privacy.
“What did you just say to me?”
I blinked at him, my brain scrambling for what I had said that suddenly held such importance. “That you’re not a cruel man?”
“No,” he snapped. “The other thing. That I’m not made for this.” I nodded. They were words that had tumbled from my mouth because they sounded like the right thing to say. I had no idea of the affect they would have on him. “Who sent you?” he demanded of me once more.
“No one. I don’t remember who I even am.” They now felt as if they were words getting lost on the wind. A constant repetition from my own throat that didn’t actually matter.
The Warden looked up and down the beach, eyes ticking to his guards. A few of them glanced our way, clearly interested in whatever was happening.
“Say I am beginning to believe you,” he said slowly. “Say you are telling the truth.”
“I am!”
While his expression didn’t change there was something that shifted in him. Like he was second guessing his own decision to toss me away earlier. The sudden change in tone startled me but I wisely bit my tongue and listened. “I cannot simply let you go free in the market. I do not trust you and even if you are claiming the truth there are things about you that I would be remiss not to view as a warning. So,” he stepped towards me, looming over me with silver tinged eyes. “I will escort you to a safehouse. Somewhere you will be safe. But I will be buying your bail. You will work for me."
Instantly, I recoiled. I had suggested to i before but now that it was there, I suddenly wasn't so sure. “So, work for you."
“It would be a show of great trust on your part and may make me more lenient as I continue to form my judgment on you. Which, I might add, will ultimately decide your future within this market.”
"And if I refuse?" I asked.
His eyes wandered back the way we came. I could feel the way he tensed, as if he was expecting me to bolt now.
Crossing my arms, I looked at him wih bitter resentment. "Well, I guess it's not a choice then, is it?"
"You always have a choice," he told me. It was unsaid that it may just not be a good one.
[[Next|Flesh pens 4]]
His fingers curled around me, a cooling balm trickling across the raw flesh. I could feel his magic beginning to dispel around me and an emptiness flood my stomach. If I was going to act, I needed to act now.
Curling my fingers around his wrist I yanked at him, registering the surprise across his face as I flung myself backwards, my hold firm. By the time he realized what I was doing it was far too late. The ground gave away beneath us and we were falling backwards, right into the flesh pits.
His eyes were wide in shock as we hit the writhing mass of bodies beneath us and our limbs became entangled with one another. Anguished moans surrounded us as the other prisoners clawed at my arms and face, trying to push their way to the surface. A scramble of nails and bloody fingers grabbed at every part of me as I tried to wiggle away from the Warden's grip. He had not released me from the bonds seared into my wrists and while it had been used to my advantage, I now needed a way to break his hold.
My head was pushed down, someone using me as leverage to step on my back and climb their way up the side of the pit. My back sung out in pain at the pressure of it, my lungs compressing into something tight. All around me, people scrambled, tearing at each other's flesh as they fought their way to freedom.
[[Call out for him to release you]]
[[Try to keep yourself from getting trampled]]
[[Drag the Warden down to the bottom of the pit]]
<<set $fleshpits to "true">>
“Warden!” I shouted out among the twisting bodies. I could hear others mimic me, echoing my call in some delightful game of cat and mouse. As my hair was yanked back and used for leverage against another body, I felt something hot and wet spill from my scalp. I was determined though. The Warden had put these people here. Had sentenced them to this pit. His presence here was far more detrimental to him than it was me. It was what I was holding on to in order to get out of this pit again.
Up top I could hear the Velvet Guard clambering as they realized their superior was falling beneath a mound of arms and legs and disjointed body parts that had just been tossed in her for decomposition.
“Release me, Warden,” I yelled out in no particular direction. I couldn’t see the dark blue of his coat nor the silver of his sword. “You know very well that they can keep you pulled down in here unless you release me!”
I heard nothing in return, nor did the magic crackle against my skin. The platform was being lowered as three men with velvet coats were brandishing their swords, swiping at anyone who tried to dislodge them from the rudimentary pulley system. Their eyes frantically searched the pile of bodies as they attempted to distinguish their Guard Captain from the prisoners below.
I felt something wrap around my leg then. A tight grip that clung to my thigh and yanked harshly, pulling me down through several bent limbs and beneath the crushing weight of the prisoners above me.
[[Stay calm. He had to release you]]
[[Beging to panic. What if he doesn't release you]]I grabbed onto the nearest shoulder and tried to push myself upwards. I did not wish the fate of this writhing mass of limbs on anyone but I was not about to be pushed beneath their forms in a display of martyrdom that served only my demise. The black bands were still thick around my wrists but I intended to push forward. Eventually, the warden would have to release me. Even if he managed to find me, I intended to kick and scream and use the angry masses around me to my advantage to keep him down here as long as our bond was intact.
Above, I could hear the Velvet Guard clambering forward as they realized their superior had unceremoniously been sucked beneath a mound of arms and legs and disjointed body parts that had just been tossed in her for decomposition. The commotion that was shouted above gave me a small moment of satisfaction before I was crying out in pain once more as an elbow dug into my ribs, ripping the breath from my throat.
Everything was hinged on my release. On the Warden’s magic dissipating so I could claw my way to the surface and run. I knew I was attempting something that hundreds had before but I saw no other option. I did not want to spend what may have been my last moments, on my knees, begging my captor.
The platform was being lowered and three men with velvet coats were brandishing their swords, swiping at anyone who tried to dislodge them from the rudimentary pulley system. Their eyes frantically searched the pile of bodies as they attempted to distinguish their Guard Captain from the prisoners below.
I felt something wrap around my leg then. A tight grip that clung to my thigh and yanked harshly, pulling me down through several bent limbs and beneath the crushing weight of the prisoners above me.
[[Stay calm. He had to release you]]
[[Beging to panic. What if he doesn't release you]]There was an unhinged anger that came over me as I fell within the bodies, the slick feel of flesh against my own skin. The hollow eyes of the trampled dead staring back at me no matter which way I turned. The man up there deserved to see what he was supporting. The system he upheld was barbaric and more than anything, I wanted him to drown in it. Looking at my marred wrists, the ones that had gotten him in here to begin with, I began kicking my way downwards. Down into the bodies below. Down to where they stopped moving and the water sat, fetid with rot. Behind me, the bulk of the Warden struggled as he was dragged down as well, helpful hands pushing him along the way.
Above, I could hear the Velvet Guard clambering forward as they realized their superior had unceremoniously been sucked beneath a mound of arms and legs and disjointed body parts that had just been tossed in her for decomposition. The commotion that was shouted above gave me a small moment of satisfaction before I was crying out in pain once more as an elbow dug into my ribs, ripping the breath from my throat.
Everything was hinged on my release. On the Warden’s magic dissipating so I could claw my way to the surface and run. I knew I was attempting something that hundreds had before but I saw no other option. I did not want to spend what may have been my last moments, on my knees, begging my captor.
The platform was being lowered and three men with velvet coats were brandishing their swords, swiping at anyone who tried to dislodge them from the rudimentary pulley system. Their eyes frantically searched the pile of bodies as they attempted to distinguish their Guard Captain from the prisoners below.
The light was fading though. The silver pinpricks of the stars above were all but snuffed out as I sunk. I felt my body relax as I accepted my fate, knowing I just needed to hold on long enough to drag this Warden down with me. Even if he did release me, the others were not going to let him go without a fight.
Magic pulsed through the pit in a burst of silver light and white hot pain. I felt the breath stolen from my lungs as I dropped several feet below, the bodies around me having been flung to the side of the pit and pinned against crumbling sand as if they were mere flies on a screen. I smacked against a pool of salt water that sat stagnant and murky at the bottom of the pit, foul water splashing up into my mouth.
Silence stilled with a bated breath over us.
On my hands and knees, I lifted my head.
The Warden stood before me, dripping with blood and sea, his dark hair falling before his bright silver eyes.
[[Next|Flesh pens 2]]I struggled against the hold but it was too tight. Boned fingers covered in translucent flesh clawed their way up my leg, pushing me further and further down. I could see prisoners climbing up on the rickety platform and the guards batting them away with the hilt of their swords. Teeth sunk into the uniformed booted ankles, as the men and women able body enough to pull themselves forward used one of the only weapons they had. The last thing I saw before being pulled completely under was a guard losing his footing and a woman grabbing for his discarded sword.
I tried to remain calm. I knew that if I began to panic this would all be over. My muscles ached as I fought my way through the sea of bodies and tried to gain some purchase against an ever moving pile of limbs. If I could only wait it out, surely the Warden would have to release his hold on me simply to ensure his own safety.
Magic pulsed through the pit in a burst of silver light and white hot pain. I felt the breath stolen from my lungs as I dropped several feet below, the bodies around me having been flung to the side of the pit and pinned against crumbling sand as if they were mere flies on a screen. I smacked against a pool of salt water that sat stagnant and murky at the bottom of the pit, foul water splashing up into my mouth.
Silence stilled with a bated breath over us.
On my hands and knees, I lifted my head.
The Warden stood before me, dripping with blood and sea, his dark hair falling before his bright silver eyes.
[[Next|Flesh pens 2]]I struggled against the hold but it was too tight. Boned fingers covered in translucent flesh clawed their way up my leg, pushing me further and further down. I could see prisoners climbing up on the rickety platform and the guards batting them away with the hilt of their swords. Teeth sunk into the uniformed booted ankles, as the men and women able body enough to pull themselves forward used one of the only weapons they had. The last thing I saw before being pulled completely under was a guard losing his footing and a woman grabbing for his discarded sword.
My heart stuttered in my chest as panic shredded my insides, rabid and unkind. My muscles ached as I fought my way through the sea of bodies and tried to gain some purchase against an ever moving pile of hands and feet. It was to no avail. The thick suction of the unknown below had grabbed onto me. My neck was bent at an angle that felt tight with an impending snap, and above me, the light began to blot out.
Magic pulsed through the pit in a burst of silver light and white hot pain. I felt the breath stolen from my lungs as I dropped several feet below, the bodies around me having been flung to the side of the pit and pinned against crumbling sand as if they were mere flies on a screen. I smacked against a pool of salt water that sat stagnant and murky at the bottom of the pit, foul water splashing up into my mouth.
Silence stilled with a bated breath over us.
On my hands and knees, I lifted my head.
The Warden stood before me, dripping with blood and sea, his dark hair falling before his bright silver eyes.
[[Next|Flesh pens 2]]Silver light emanated from all around him as he stood there, sword in hand, eyes solid steel. I had no time to react as he stormed towards me, grabbing me by the wrist and raising me from the ground. Behind us, the platform creaked downwards, inching along to depths it did not often see. The Warden’s gaze burned into me.
Magic thrummed from his very being, weaving through the bands on my wrist in a harsh reminder of who was in control. He did not toss me onto the platform like I assumed he would, but instead dragged to his side, keeping his hands on me as he stepped onto the swaying planks. Without so much of a nod or a look up above, the platform began to rise again. All around us bodies were pinned, their mouths open in silent screams while their eyes followed us. In unison, they locked onto the Warden and I, their gaze moving upwards as we rose to the surface.
I could not struggle. I couldn't move. I couldn’t even sit and suck in the fresh air around me. I was immobilized, silver light binding around me from toe to chest, whipping against my $skincolor skin in tight coils of barely controlled rage. I could feel it as it escaped his fingers, the pulse of his very heart a steady hammer in my own ears for reasons I could not understand.
As we broached the surface, the bodies pinned silently to the walls fell. They lay in stunned repose for an achingly long beat before groaning at the pain of their descent. The Warden yanked me from the platform then. I had no choice but to stumble along with him.
“Warden,” it was a voice I did not recognize. Someone out of breath and clad in red velvet. “Are you alright?”
“I am fine, Emerson. Simply winded.”
My eyes were frozen to the wet and cracked sand beneath us. The effort it would take to raise my head suddenly felt too much. I could feel eyes on me, however. Not just from the guard member, but from the entirety of the beach. The spectacle we must have made was mesmerizing.
“What are we to do with the prisoner?” the guard asked. In the muzzy cotton that clouded my mind, I too was wondering what was to be done with me. There was a small part of me surprised that he had even pulled me from the pits instead of letting the magic die so I could fall beneath the dead.
“I wish to take them in for further questioning,” the Warden stated.
“Why?” It was a sentiment that echoed my own thoughts.
The boots, polished to perfection, moved forward. If possible, the hand that wrapped around me tightened. “Emerson, explain to me when I began answering to you?”
The guard blinked, taking another step back. “Sorry, sir.”
“This prisoner is under my jurisdiction now and–” A cry of pain escaped him. He recoiled, snatching his hand back as the magic that had been bound around my wrists suddenly fizzled away. I stared at the black marks as they began to fade to a dull gray. Then, I bolted. Running off into the dark and feeling my lungs squeeze with the effort.
[[Next|Flesh pens 3]]I sucked in the salt air around me, holding it dear as it cleared the scent of rot from my nose. My legs ached as I took off down the beach, not daring to look behind me and see just how many were following. Propelling myself forward, I knew I could be running to my death still. But I had no other option. I refused to go with the Warden, though. I refused to be his prisoner. The magic that had bound me had dropped with a sharp cry of pain and I doubted I would get the opportunity again. So my feet slapped across sodden sand and towards the unknown in a last attempt to save my own life.
I fell face first to the ground as something slammed into my back. My breath was stolen from me in a grunted whoosh as rough hands grabbed me, flipping me around and pinning me to the wet ground beneath. The Warden loomed above me, a coil of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. His fingers flexed around my forearms as he pinned my wrists above my head. I couldn’t see over his shoulder and was uncertain if he had help at his heels. As every ounce of muscled torso pressed against me, pinning me to the wet ground, I thrashed beneath him, trying to break free.
“Don’t make me sear my mark back into your skin,” he growled, his voice rumbling across me in a sick twist of a command.
I shivered, glancing down at my wrists. The black bands were a faded gray. So easily they could bruise back to black.
[[Ask for help]]
[[Defy him]]
[[Give up]]“Please,” I whispered, my voice cracking. My body ached in ways it never had before and every ounce of fight I had scraped together was beginning to leave me in shallow gasps. “I can’t… you can’t…” I swallowed thickly. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know how I had gotten here and all I wanted was to wake from this nightmare. But it felt like the more I struggled, the more I tried to find my way out, the deeper into all of this I fell.
“I don’t want to die,” I finally said. I looked back at the large pit that marked a good chunk of the beach. A wave had just crashed over the opening and I shuddered at the thought of the bodies, climbing on top of each other to keep from drowning.
Ticking my desperation back towards him, I knew I was close to begging. I didn’t know what I was even asking for at that moment. I was simply overcome with the need to survive. This couldn’t be my end. Against me, I could feel The Warden's shoulders tense and his grip on me turn bruising. The puff of hot air that released towards my ear warmed the frigid stretch of skin. I suddenly realized how cold it was here as the warmth from his body seeped into me.
A growl left his lips as he jerked off of me, sending a sudden rush of cold across my front. I blinked up at him, eyes wide and scared.
“Get up,” he demanded.
And by my own compulsion, I did.
I dusted the sand from my clothes. A strange glow was on the horizon, denoting a bustling city I had not yet seen. Despite their Warden running into the dark, no one had deemed it necessary to follow us. That, or they assumed that their boss had this under control. The temptation to stay here until the crowds cleared was one that grabbed hold of me almost immediately despite the damp air and the shivers now wracking my bones. I wanted to huddle within a small hole somewhere, burrow myself under woven driftwood and fall asleep until the world had quieted. The racing of my heart however, railed vehemently against the idea.
“What now?” The two of us stood with the sound of crashing waves behind us, neither knowing how to even look at each other after what had just transpired. Much less trust the other.
The sword at his hip gleamed in the moonlight as he tapped his hand against the pommel, looking back towards the beach in which we ran from. “Follow me,” he stated. He didn’t wait. His booted feet took off down the shoreline in determination.
“Are the orders a habit for you?” I asked with a nervous laugh, catching up to him.
“I am the Warden of this market.”
I didn’t point out that that wasn’t an explanation. Instead, I followed him across the sand and towards a cliff’s edge that I could barely make out on the unlit shore. The sound of the bail block became louder as I realized we were winding our way back towards it but I took a steadying breath, trying to trust that I wasn’t about to be manhandled back towards the cells. As it was, we were walking steadily away from the pit so I didn’t think that he was trying to trick me.
As we reached the cliff face that butted up against the edge of the tilted saloons he turned to me.
“I have made a decision,” he said firmly. The sudden change in tone startled me but I wisely bit my tongue and listened. “I cannot simply let you go free in the market. I do not trust you and even if you are claiming the truth there are things about you that I would be remiss not to view as a warning. So,” he stepped towards me, looming over me with silver tinged eyes. “I will escort you to a safehouse. Somewhere you will be safe. But I will be buying your bail. You will work for me."
Instantly, I recoiled. “After all of that, why would I ever want to be in your service?”
“It would be a show of great trust on your part and may make me more lenient as I continue to form my judgment on you. Which, I might add, will ultimately decide your future within this market.”
"And if I refuse?" I asked.
His eyes wandered back the way we came. I could feel the way he tensed, as if he was expecting me to bolt now.
Crossing my arms, I looked at him wih bitter resentment. "Well, I guess it's not a choice then, is it?"
"You always have a choice," he told me. It was unsaid that it may just not be a good one.
[[Next|Flesh pens 4]]
I twisted beneath his grip, feeling every muscle in my body ache with the displeasure of it. Though I couldn’t stop now. I fought him, scratching at his chest and his arms, slipping from his hold several times as I fought like some sort of wild animal, desperate to get free.
When he finally pinned me, straddling my backside as I lay flat on my belly, I felt the strength leave me. There was only so much I could give. It was with an aching rush that I realized that I had lost. That I had no other scenario to exhaust as I kicked weakly beneath him.
With my face pressed to a mass of sodden sand, I went limp. I could feel my cheeks heat with the humiliation of defeat. Embarrassment was probably not going to matter much longer. In the end, death was always going to breathe down my neck.
Gently, I was flipped over as the Warden released my hands, staring down at my sand scraped cheeks and wide $eyecolor eyes.
“You truly do not understand how you got here?” he asked, voice gruff with exertion.
“I don’t,” I huffed.
“And yet you are fighting for a life you don’t remember? One that may not want you anymore?”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wasn’t fighting for a life I didn’t remember exactly, but more for the desire //to// remember. Either way, I nodded my head. One slow nod of uncertainty and a tenuous truce began to form.
Bowing his head, he rested his forehead against my shoulder. I could feel his shoulders tense and his grip on me turn nearly bruising. The puff of hot air that released towards my ear warmed the frigid stretch of skin. I suddenly realized how cold it was here as the warmth from his body seeped into me.
A growl left his lips as he jerked off of me, sending a sudden rush of cold across my front. I blinked up at him, eyes wide and scared.
“Get up,” he demanded.
And by my own compulsion, I did.
I dusted the sand from my clothes. A strange glow was on the horizon, denoting a bustling city I had not yet seen. Despite their Warden running into the dark, no one had deemed it necessary to follow us. That, or they assumed that their boss had this under control. The temptation to stay here until the crowds cleared was one that grabbed hold of me almost immediately despite the damp air and the shivers now wracking my bones. I wanted to huddle within a small hole somewhere, burrow myself under woven driftwood and fall asleep until the world had quieted. The racing of my heart however, railed vehemently against the idea.
“What now?” The two of us stood with the sound of crashing waves behind us, neither knowing how to even look at each other after what had just transpired. Much less trust the other.
The sword at his hip gleamed in the moonlight as he tapped his hand against the pommel, looking back towards the beach in which we ran from. “Follow me,” he stated. He didn’t wait. His booted feet took off down the shoreline in determination.
“Are the orders a habit for you?” I asked with a nervous laugh, catching up to him.
“I am the Warden of this market.”
I didn’t point out that that wasn’t an explanation. Instead, I followed him across the sand and towards a cliff’s edge that I could barely make out on the unlit shore. The sound of the bail block became louder as I realized we were winding our way back towards it but I took a steadying breath, trying to trust that I wasn’t about to be manhandled back towards the cells. As it was, we were walking steadily away from the pit so I didn’t think that he was trying to trick me.
As we reached the cliff face that butted up against the edge of the tilted saloons he turned to me.
“I have made a decision,” he said firmly. The sudden change in tone startled me but I wisely bit my tongue and listened. “I cannot simply let you go free in the market. I do not trust you and even if you are claiming the truth there are things about you that I would be remiss not to view as a warning. So,” he stepped towards me, looming over me with silver tinged eyes. “I will escort you to a safehouse. Somewhere you will be safe. But I will be buying your bail. You will work for me."
Instantly, I recoiled. “After all of that, why would I ever want to be in your service?”
“It would be a show of great trust on your part and may make me more lenient as I continue to form my judgment on you. Which, I might add, will ultimately decide your future within this market.”
"And if I refuse?" I asked.
His eyes wandered back the way we came. I could feel the way he tensed, as if he was expecting me to bolt now.
Crossing my arms, I looked at him wih bitter resentment. "Well, I guess it's not a choice then, is it?"
"You always have a choice," he told me. It was unsaid that it may just not be a good one.
[[Next|Flesh pens 4]]
I went limp beneath his grip, feeling every muscle in my body ache with the displeasure of it. There was no point. My body was slowly giving up after the day and it didn’t seem to matter which way I turned, he was always going to be faster and stronger than me. With very little effort on his part, he had caught me. Even if I could squirm my way out from beneath him, where would I even go?
Gently, I was flipped over as the Warden released my hands, staring down at my sand scraped cheeks and wide $eyecolor eyes.
“You truly do not understand how you got here?” he asked, voice gruff with exertion.
“I don’t,” I huffed.
“And yet you are fighting for a life you don’t remember? One that may not want you anymore?”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wasn’t fighting for a life I didn’t remember exactly, but more for the desire //to// remember. Either way, I nodded my head. One slow nod of uncertainty and a tenuous truce began to form.
Bowing his head, he rested his forehead against my shoulder. I could feel his shoulders tense and his grip on me turn nearly bruising. The puff of hot air that released towards my ear warmed the frigid stretch of skin. I suddenly realized how cold it was here as the warmth from his body seeped into me.
A growl left his lips as he jerked off of me, sending a sudden rush of cold across my front. I blinked up at him, eyes wide and scared.
“Get up,” he demanded.
And by my own compulsion, I did.
I dusted the sand from my clothes. A strange glow was on the horizon, denoting a bustling city I had not yet seen. Despite their Warden running into the dark, no one had deemed it necessary to follow us. That, or they assumed that their boss had this under control. The temptation to stay here until the crowds cleared was one that grabbed hold of me almost immediately despite the damp air and the shivers now wracking my bones. I wanted to huddle within a small hole somewhere, burrow myself under woven driftwood and fall asleep until the world had quieted. The racing of my heart however, railed vehemently against the idea.
“What now?” The two of us stood with the sound of crashing waves behind us, neither knowing how to even look at each other after what had just transpired. Much less trust the other.
The sword at his hip gleamed in the moonlight as he tapped his hand against the pommel, looking back towards the beach in which we ran from. “Follow me,” he stated. He didn’t wait. His booted feet took off down the shoreline in determination.
“Are the orders a habit for you?” I asked with a nervous laugh, catching up to him.
“I am the Warden of this market.”
I didn’t point out that that wasn’t an explanation. Instead, I followed him across the sand and towards a cliff’s edge that I could barely make out on the unlit shore. The sound of the bail block became louder as I realized we were winding our way back towards it but I took a steadying breath, trying to trust that I wasn’t about to be manhandled back towards the cells. As it was, we were walking steadily away from the pit so I didn’t think that he was trying to trick me.
As we reached the cliff face that butted up against the edge of the tilted saloons he turned to me.
“I have made a decision,” he said firmly. The sudden change in tone startled me but I wisely bit my tongue and listened. “I cannot simply let you go free in the market. I do not trust you and even if you are claiming the truth there are things about you that I would be remiss not to view as a warning. So,” he stepped towards me, looming over me with silver tinged eyes. “I will escort you to a safehouse. Somewhere you will be safe. But I will be buying your bail. You will work for me."
Instantly, I recoiled. “After all of that, why would I ever want to be in your service?”
“It would be a show of great trust on your part and may make me more lenient as I continue to form my judgment on you. Which, I might add, will ultimately decide your future within this market.”
"And if I refuse?" I asked.
His eyes wandered back the way we came. I could feel the way he tensed, as if he was expecting me to bolt now.
Crossing my arms, I looked at him wih bitter resentment. "Well, I guess it's not a choice then, is it?"
"You always have a choice," he told me. It was unsaid that it may just not be a good one.
[[Next|Flesh pens 4]]
I could feel the sweat bead on my brow and couldn’t help but tuck myself within the Warden's shadow. I knew I was with the one person that could get me past these guards but these were still the same velvet clad individuals that had dragged me here in the first place. I kept my eyes downcast and tried to keep my expression as blank as possible. I could see us approach the nearest alleyway, heading towards a guard member with a severe face and a slicked back pony tail.
“Evening, Warden.” The man was tall and wide and had a beard that reached down in three braids to his chest.
“Lieutenant. Any problems this evening.” There was a different cadence to his voice now. How he spoke to his officers was short and clipped and coated in steel.
“Few trying to get through without papers. We tossed them into processing might quick.” The man looked proud of his statement. I had to wonder just how much emphasis went into finding people to inhabit the pens versus actual guard duty. “And that boy came around again. Sniffing the men's pockets for spare gold or what not. Obviously we’ll be getting a warrant out on him again. Probably hasn’t paid his debts in a while.”
“Wasn’t he just released today?” A woman called from across the way. She was examining someone's papers and letting them through into the thick darkness behind her.
“Probably. That boy is in and out of those cells more often than not. Need to designate a bed for him.”
Gabriel nodded, allowing both the guards a small chuckle over the idea. “Well, I will not be surprised if I see young Caliban in the cells tomorrow morning then.” Glancing over the man's shoulder at a group of people headed their way, Gabriel gestured towards them. “It looks as if your hands are busy tonight. I will just be on my way. Ms. Albright has bought this bail.”
The guard frowned. “The bog witch? I pity anyone that has to deal with her.” Then, a frown crossed his face. “She looking for more body parts?” I shuddered and for a brief moment I worried that this was all for show. That I had truly been sold and this man was just escorting me to a more private place to dispose of me.
“I do not think the young Albright deals in such things anymore,” The Warden intoned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
The man actually blushed as he was brushed aside. He didn’t bother looking at me as I walked past. I was coming to realize it was as if I did not exist to these people. They all had this weird way of allowing their eyes to slide right over me.
[[Next|Gabriel back alley]]I was going to get out of here. To come this far only to be stopped by a technicality was not going to be an option. Not when I had the Warden of the market escorting me. If for any reason I had to fight my way out of here, I would. The exhaustion that wrapped around me would have to wait just a bit longer.
We approached the nearest alleyway, heading towards a guard member with a severe face and a high, slicked back pony tail.
“Evening, Warden.” The man was tall and wide and had a beard that reached down in three braids to his chest.
“Lieutenant. Any problems this evening.” There was a different cadence to his voice now. How he spoke to his officers was short and clipped and coated in steel.
“Few trying to get through without papers. We tossed them into processing might quick.” The man looked proud of his statement. I had to wonder just how much emphasis went into finding people to inhabit the pens versus actual guard duty. “And that boy came around again. Sniffing the men's pockets for spare gold or what not. Obviously we’ll be getting a warrant out on him again. Probably hasn’t paid his debts in a while.”
“Wasn’t he just released today?” A woman called from across the way. She was examining someone's papers and letting them through into the thick darkness behind her.
“Probably. That boy is in and out of those cells more often than not. Need to designate a bed for him.”
Gabriel nodded, allowing both the guards a small chuckle over the idea. “Well, I will not be surprised if I see young Caliban in the cells tomorrow morning then.” Glancing over the man's shoulder at a group of people headed their way, Gabriel gestured towards them. “It looks as if your hands are busy tonight. I will just be on my way. Ms. Albright has bought this bail.”
The guard frowned. “The bog witch? I pity anyone that has to deal with her.” Then, a frown crossed his face. “She looking for more body parts?” I felt my fists tighten as the possibility of this all being for show was presented. Maybe this was a ruse and I was being escorted to a more private location to be disposed of.
“I do not think the young Albright deals in such things anymore,” The Warden intoned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
The man actually blushed as he was brushed aside. He didn’t bother looking at me as I walked past. I was coming to realize it was as if I did not exist to these people. They all had this weird way of allowing their eyes to slide right over me.
[[Next|Gabriel back alley]]I was going to get out of here. Steadying my breathing, I tried to keep my expression blank, as if the thick bands around my wrists still worked and the compulsion to follow this man was locked on tight. Not that it mattered. The Warden was escorting me out of here. I didn’t think there was a higher authority.
We approached the nearest alleyway, heading towards a guard member with a severe face and a high, slicked back pony tail.
“Evening, Warden.” The man was tall and wide and had a beard that reached down in three braids to his chest.
“Lieutenant. Any problems this evening.” There was a different cadence to his voice now. How he spoke to his officers was short and clipped and coated in steel.
“Few trying to get through without papers. We tossed them into processing might quick.” The man looked proud of his statement. I had to wonder just how much emphasis went into finding people to inhabit the pens versus actual guard duty. “And that boy came around again. Sniffing the men's pockets for spare gold or what not. Obviously we’ll be getting a warrant out on him again. Probably hasn’t paid his debts in a while.”
“Wasn’t he just released today?” A woman called from across the way. She was examining someone's papers and letting them through into the thick darkness behind her.
“Probably. That boy is in and out of those cells more often than not. Need to designate a bed for him.”
Gabriel nodded, allowing both the guards a small chuckle over the idea. “Well, I will not be surprised if I see young Caliban in the cells tomorrow morning then.” Glancing over the man's shoulder at a group of people headed their way, Gabriel gestured towards them. “It looks as if your hands are busy tonight. I will just be on my way. Ms. Albright has bought this bail.”
The guard frowned. “The bog witch? I pity anyone that has to deal with her.” Then, a frown crossed his face. “She looking for more body parts?” I shuddered and for a brief moment I worried that this was all for show. That I had truly been sold and this man was just escorting me to a more private place to dispose of me.
“I do not think the young Albright deals in such things anymore,” The Warden intoned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
The man actually blushed as he was brushed aside. He didn’t bother looking at me as I walked past. I was coming to realize it was as if I did not exist to these people. They all had this weird way of allowing their eyes to slide right over me.
[[Next|Gabriel back alley]]Shadows folded around us. As the guard stepped back into place, the low murmuring sounds of the beach faded to nothing. The amber lights dimmed, becoming a blurred wash of color on the other side of an invisible barrier, blocking us from both sight and sound. The beach and where we came from was now nothing but a watercolor film of dripping lights and sound.
“This is where I leave you.”
I whirled around.
Gabriel stood, hands clasped militaristic behind his back, his sword clanging against his hip. He had pushed the irate curl out of his eye and was suddenly the image of the Warden once more. I hadn’t realized until now how many cracks had been appearing within that carefully crafted facade.
“Head down this alley. Make no turns. You will find yourself in the Night Market proper. From there, ask any of the vendors for directions to Hazel Albright. She’ll be able to help you. Tell her I sent you.”
The yawning darkness of the alley behind me felt endless at my back.
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>"I will be in contact. You will have a few days of rest and then I expect you to report for work."<</if>>
[[Thank you]]
[[You're kidding, right?]]
[[Come with me]]There was so much I could say. So much I should. But proper words failed, breaking apart in my chest as I stared at the man before me, a mixture of emotions crashing against my overtired brain. The alley was stretched into pitch black and guaranteed me no amount of answers. None more than I had this morning.
If I didn’t take this opportunity, the next one may not arrive. The thought of going back towards those pits where curled hands reached out for salvation, was an idea I could not face.
Hurriedly, I rushed past him, almost certain he would change his mind and the thick stains against my wrist would yank me back to his side. When I heard the sound of his boots as he walked back towards the mouth of the alley, I knew though, he was setting me free.
“Thank you.” I paused, stopping at the edge of the consuming shadow. I could see his shoulders twitch, knew he was listening, but he said nothing in return. Only the line of his jaw and the corner of one piercing eye was caught against the blurred light from the courtyard ahead.
He walked through then, leaving me alone in the dark.
[[Next|Gabe pronouns]]“You have got to be kidding me?” The words burst from my chest in something shrill and ugly. The alley was stretched into pitch black and guaranteed me no amount of answers. None more than I had this morning. And this man was going to leave me to my own devices just as I was at the edge of escape. “After all of that? If you cared so little why even go through all of this?”
“We go through life’s trials for a reason, Prisoner 47b.”
“Is that just what you are calling me now?"
“Besides,” he continued, ignoring me. “My magic might not be actively working against your wrists but if you do not show up to the Albright’s shop, I will be able to track you. You are marked now. Try to run and we can repeat the experience of today though I doubt it will end as favorably.” He brushed past me then, heading towards the opening from which we came. The line of his jaw was highlighted by the blurred light of the courtyard ahead. “Consider this your first exercise in trust.”
“You really are so confident that I won’t run?”
“No,” he responded honestly. “I am simply that confident that I will find you.” Without another word he stepped from the alley, and once more, I was alone.
[[Next|Gabe pronouns]]“Come with me.” The words burst from my chest in something desperate. The alley was stretched into pitch black and guaranteed me no amount of answers. None more than I had this morning. And this man was going to leave me to my own devices just as I was at the edge of escape. The idea of it sat like a rock against my already bruised chest. I no longer wanted him to leave.
“Ms. Albright is a good woman,” he said. “She will help you. Now, I have work to do. If you stray from your path, I will know. The magic in those bands may not be active but you are still marked with my seal.”
He walked past me, pausing for a moment at my shoulder. The line of his jaw was highlighted by the blurred light of the courtyard ahead. While he did not touch me, I could feel every inch of him against my side. There was more I knew he wished to say but could not bring himself to do so. When he stepped forward, disappearing from where we came, I felt the cold of the night settle against me.
Once more, I was alone.
[[Next|Gabe pronouns]]<<if $pgen == "0">>In the end, I identified as male. It was what felt the most right when I truly thought about myself. <<elseif $pgen == "1">>In the end, I identified as female. It was what felt the most right when I truly thought about myself. <<elseif $pgen == "2">>In the end, I identified as non binary. It was what felt the most right when I truly thought about myself.<</if>>It wasn't much to go off of, but it was a start. And it was certainly more than I had an hour ago. Now, I just had to keep moving forward.
I didn’t know how long I walked. The alley was narrow and cobbled together with broken stone and soft patches of moss. Vines burnt at the edges crept along the walls, wrapping around forgotten pieces of memorabilia, belonging to lives that echoed in the darkest parts of the alley. With each step I expected to see someone emerge from the dark, their weapons drawn, ready to take me back to the cell where I had awoken that morning. Part of me hoped I would run into the blue eyed man, simply for a familiar voice to drown out the labored sound of my own breathing. There was no safety in my isolation. Not true safety at least.
I kept going. There was no other option. The path before me did not bend or break. It was an endless horizon that was slowly stealing my sanity. The soles of my feet ached, the sweat on my brows dripped down my spine in a chilled line, and it took everything to keep me from screaming just to hear a voice at my side.
When the alley bended, offering the slightest amount of variation, I thought I would cry in relief.
When I rounded that corner, my very steps faltered.
Ramshackled stalls lined the perimeter of the now wide alleyway. Thick bursts of steam erupted from deep stainless steel pots while platters of fresh meat pies were being set out in crackling displays. Stall owners glistened with sweat from standing among the heat of their fires and beneath hundreds of strung up paper lanterns that swayed farther than I could see. Tarnished stools were filled with hunched forms as people ate from chipped bowls, sharing conversation over steaming plates of shiny looking dumplings and crispy strips of pork. The entire corridor smelled of paprika and sweat and crackling meat. I had never seen anything quite like it.
It was different from the bustle down at the beach. It was lively and teeming with the day to day machinations of residents going about their life, unconcerned about the papers I did not hold. No one paid me a glance as I walked from the wide open maw of the alley, a crackle of magic singing the back of my neck.
Above me, a single paper lantern hummed, as if to greet me as I stepped over the threshold.
With wide eyes, I stared ahead. “Welcome to the Night Market,” I whispered.
[[Chapter Two|Chapter Two - Gabriel]]
<<set $pits to "true">>
My eyes flicked back and forth, searching for something that might make him more amenable to my plight. A glimmer of humanity that could wrap around him. One that would give him a moment of second thought. I had nothing, though. Nothing but the sparse clothes on my back. My pockets were empty, my fingers were bare, and my neck was devoid of any thin chain that may have been used as collateral.
“I can work for you. Or - or owe you a favor,” I tried.
“You are a prisoner of the Night Market and I am a Warden. I do not take bribes.” His fingers didn’t even loosen. Not that I expected them to. My offerings were paltry at best.
“There has to be something you want. Something I can give you. An unsavory errand? A - a delivery of some sort? I’ll do your laundry if I have to.”
“No one touches my laundry.”
If I was not trying to bargain for my life, I may have laughed. As it was, I was scrambling to simply find something to appeal to the blank face of a man intent on sending me to my death.
“Just tell me what it is you want,” I breathed. “I’ll do it. I don’t want to die.”
“Prisoner 47b,” he said, “You have been sentenced to the flesh pits. There you will remain until you are bought, or you have perished.” I could feel it then. I could feel the sway of my body as he was about to toss me into the pits.
And in the brief moment that he let me go, my body beginning to teeter, I ran. I bolted from him, the fear on my face having made him believe I would have been easy to condemn. But I valued my life far more and with a sudden burst of energy I didn’t know I had, I ducked beneath his arm and shoved my way past two other guards who stared at me in shock.
“Warden?” I heard someone call from behind me. Questioning if they should go after me. I didn’t hear whatever the answer to that call was though. The sound of my own blood rushing through my ears drowned everything else out.
I fell face first into the sand as something slammed into my back. The wind rushed from me in a whoosh as rough hands grabbed me, flipping me around and pinning me to the wet ground beneath. The Captain loomed above me, a coil of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. His fingers flexed around my forearms as he pinned them above my head. Over his shoulder I could see the flesh pits still. No one seemed concerned about my escape.
No one except for this man who was pressing every ounce of muscled torso against me.
“Don’t make me sear my mark back into your skin,” he growled, his voice rumbling across me in a sick twist of a command.
I shivered, glancing down at my wrists. The black bands were a faded grey. So easily they could bruise back to black.
[[Ask for help]]
[[Defy him]]
[[Give up]]<<textbox "$name" $name>> \
<<button "Confirm">>
<<set $name to $name.trim()>>
<<if $name is "">>
<<replace "#name-error">>Please enter a name!<</replace>>
<<else>>
<<goto "Lie and make up a name">>
<</if>>
<</button>> \
<span id="name-error"></span>
<<set $nameself to "true">>
<<set $charactersheet to "true">><img src="images/Ch 2.png"
height="300" width="900">
The lights up above swayed amber and gold. They hung heavy, strung together on thick wire cords that stretched across the long expanse of canvas covered stalls. Plumes of steam drifted upwards, curling around the paper of each heavy light before dissipating into the endless night up above. High walls of oil stained flagstone rose behind each rickety wooden stall, boxing everyone in with one long line. The setup trapped the heady scent of crackling meat and spices, causing them to linger around the bustling bodies of shoppers and eaters. I stared at it all with wide eyes, blinking at the stark difference of the city street stretching before me and the coastal expanse I had been trapped within.
“Not all the Night Market is bad,” Hazel said next to me, eyeing me curiously. “I know we haven’t made the best impression, but places like this?” she gestured around the two of us. “They don’t make up for what you’ve been through, but I’ve always believed that this is proof that we don’t all think alike.”
I raised a brow to her but said nothing. I honestly didn’t know how to respond given what was playing in front of me. A cracked cobblestone path was at my feet, containing squished together stalls with sweaty workers shouting back and forth at each other as they served whoever sat on the rickety stools balanced on the ground. The alleyway was lively. It was vibrant and spilling with various walks of life. Horned heads ducked down so as not to catch the lanterns while shorter creatures with ghostly wings, ducked down between peoples feet. My eyes struggled to take it in.
When Hazel tugged on my sleeve, I turned towards her, unaware of how long I had even been standing there. “Come on,” she ticked her head forward, a small smile playing across her face. I followed, looking around at everything that began to unfold.
Sloping awnings of red and burnt umber draped across wind stripped wooden poles to create small square sections separating each stall from the other. They were lined up on either side of the alley, small gold lamps the only offering of light before nearly disappeared among their roaring fires. I could see heavy pots with rattling lids simmering behind tall men covered in sweat. Women, with hands stained white with flour, kneaded large strips of dough that they dropped into oil vats, their hands barely flinching as they were splashed with the searing liquid. Large spools of meat turned, strips shaved off by cooks, some of whom were as small as a child but had the heavy jowls of a well lived individual. They grinned, sharp sets of teeth shoved through with emerald gems. No one seemed concerned as these creatures passed out paper wrapped parcels of spiced beef. And the small satchels of cardamon and thyme they pocketed sent little puffs of seasoning throughout the air, creating pockets of herbal fog.
Hazel was watching me, taking in my reactions to what I was seeing, drinking in every small flicker that crossed my face.
[[The world scared me. It seemed large and confusing]]
[[The world intrigued me. From what I could see here, it was nothing like the beach]]
[[I didn’t want to make an opinion on the world yet. I needed to gather more information]]
<<set $beginningroute to "hazel">>
<<set $route to "nofleshpit">>I made a show of patting down my pockets, as if I had something to even give her. Of course there was nothing but I had the inane hope that something would just appear.
“I must have left them in the saloons,” I told her, looking behind me at the tilted buildings. I willed my face to flush and desperately hoped that as I stumbled upon my own two feet, I looked as if I had something to drink.
“Better go and get them then,” she told me. “I’ll wait for your return.”
I gave them a grateful smile before slipping off back down the concrete slope, facing the beach once more. I could feel the guards eyes on me, watching to see if I headed towards the salons. It gave me very little option but to make my way towards the tilted set of buildings, immersing myself in their spilled light at the music pouring from their open doors.
[[Next|The saloons]]I made a show of patting down my pockets, as if I had something to even give her. Of course there was nothing but I had the inane hope that something would just appear.
“I must have left them at home,” I said sheepishly.
“You wouldn’t have been able to get in here without them.”
When she took a step forward I burst into a run. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see if her or any of the others were following. Skidding down the concrete slope, I slammed into the sand below, feeling the grains scrape against my palms. With a burst of speed I ran straight into the thick of the crowd, weaving in and out of them, hoping that I would get lost. I hid behind a large rock formation, my feet wet with the tide that lapped against it. Leaning there, I breathed heavily, not daring to look around the corner lest I give myself away. As the sweat began to dry on my skin and I peeled my eyes open, I stared up towards the eternal night. The stars looked as if they were mocking me. Offering a peace somewhere off towards the horizon that I was not allowed to be a part of.
When I was sure I hadn’t been followed, or at least they hadn’t found the path I took, I rolled out of my hiding place and back into the throng of milling souls.
Moving away from the bonfires that riddled the beach, I began to feel the cold set in. My skin raised under the onslaught pouring in from the ocean waves. Ducking towards an area that looked as if it was deserted, I began to take stock of my surroundings. It all felt like a dead end. Nothing but tide pools and rock walls that reached up towards an expanse of land that I was sure housed the Velvet Guard.
Running a hand across my face in frustration, I tried to keep my wits about me. I was so close. Safety had to be within my reach but I just wasn’t seeing it. But then, something caught my eye. A slow shift of moss against a rock wall. It had been subtle. Normally, it would have been something most anyone would dismiss. Except, I had to have hope.
Walking towards it, I reached out, brushing my fingers across the curtain of moss. It moved like silken fabric against my fingers and there, on the other side, was a long dark tunnel.
I stepped inside without looking. I didn’t know if I was being followed and at this point, I didn’t care. The beach was too crowded and if this tunnel led to nowhere, at least I was guaranteed to be alone. Or, at least that was the comfort I continued to tell myself.
With a deep breath, I began to set off down the dark corridor, leaving the chaos of the bail block behind me.
[[Next|solo tunnels]]
I winced, making a show of looking behind me. “My partner has them,” I said. “I’m so sorry. They carry them for me. I lose absolutely everything.”
The woman looked a bit more relaxed at my explanation but still tried to follow my gaze. “Where is your partner?”
I craned my neck. “Right over there.” I pointed to a crowd of people, where several individuals had all gathered near a bonfire. Raising my hand in the air, I tried to wave them down. “Do you want me to pop over there and get them?” I asked.
She nodded. “That’d be great. Can’t leave the square without identification, I’m afraid. Warden’s orders.”
“Of course,” I told her with a smile. “I’ll just be a minute.”
I didn’t know if the woman's eyes followed me as I walked towards the crowded beach. Part of me wanted to look back but I was too afraid of what I would see. Instead, as I approached the area indicated, I looked to my right, pretending to see someone I knew. I veered off then, becoming distracted with an unknown individual, and hoping against hope that if the guard was watching, she wasn’t allowed to leave her post.
Moving away from the bonfires that riddled the beach, I began to feel the cold set in. My skin raised under the onslaught pouring in from the ocean waves. Ducking towards an area that looked as if it was deserted, I began to take stock of my surroundings. It all felt like a dead end. Nothing but tide pools and rock walls that reached up towards an expanse of land that I was sure housed the Velvet Guard.
Running a hand across my face in frustration, I tried to keep my wits about me. I was so close. Safety had to be within my reach but I just wasn’t seeing it. But then, something caught my eye. A slow shift of moss against a rock wall. It had been subtle. Normally, it would have been something most anyone would dismiss. Except, I had to have hope.
Walking towards it, I reached out, brushing my fingers across the curtain of moss. It moved like silken fabric against my fingers and there, on the other side, was a long dark tunnel.
I stepped inside without looking. I didn’t know if I was being followed and at this point, I didn’t care. The beach was too crowded and if this tunnel led to nowhere, at least I was guaranteed to be alone. Or, at least that was the comfort I continued to tell myself.
With a deep breath, I began to set off down the dark corridor, leaving the chaos of the bail block behind me.
[[Next|solo tunnels]]
<img src="images/Ch 2.png"
height="300" width="900">
We sat at a slanted counter made up of three long strips of pine balanced at the edge of two whiskey barrels. A man in a stained white shirt with a pot-belly that spilled over the edge of his equally stained pants stood on the other side of the counter. His hair was in a high knot twisted on top of his head and his hands wielded metal tongues as if they were a delicate sword.
“Now tell me this ain’t the best damn soup dumpling you’ve ever had the pleasure of having.” Milo pointed a pair of chopsticks at me, his mouth half full. Between us was a platter of food, half of which had already made it into my stomach. After blinking the initial shock away, my stomach had growled loudly, sending Milo into a peal of laughter that had him dragging me down past dozens of stalls until he landed at this one. Ran by a man named Kaizer who had six fingers instead of five, he had greeted Milo with a loud ‘Eeeeeeeeey’. Milo had then slapped down a clanging bundle of copper that may have been money, may have been rocks, and within moments, Kaizer had thrown down a steamed mat and started placing puffy steamed buns bef us. In the end it was more food than I thought possible to consume.
Until I very nearly did consume all of it, that is.
“Only the best for you, eh Next?” Kaizer was laughing.
Leaning back on his stool, just far enough so he wouldn’t fall off, Milo patted his stomach. “It was a good day, Kaizer. A good day. How’s the husband?”
“Bored,” the man said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Wants to go move to the Arbor District with the kids. Start a life of solitude.”
“Wouldn’t that be even more monotonous?” Milo asked, tilting his head to the side.
“That’s what I told him. I’m thinking he just wants me home more.”
“You do work too hard,” he pointed out. It was quickly met with a glare and a chuckle from Milo. Kaizer turned his eyes then to me.
“Why you runnin’ around with this lot, then? He’s a good for nothing busy body that never takes my side.”
[[Stare at the creature in fear]]
[[Smile and tell him how you happen to like busybodies]]
[[Shrug and say it’s because he’s buying you food]]
<<set $beginningroute to "tunnels">>
<<set $beginningroute to "tunnelescape">>
<<set $route to "nofleshpit">>I stared at the creature. His hands were the width of well-fed trees and the hunch on his back was clearly from him trying to fit beneath his shop awning. While his voice had been kindly he looked to be the sort of men that could tear someone apart without remorse. I recoiled at the thought. I may have escaped the beach but danger still lurked at my back.
“Right then,” he said when I didn’t answer. “Might want to take this one to get some sleep, Next.” Milo bobbed his head as he swallowed another dumpling. But before he got the chance to explain, Kaizer had already moved on. “Oy!” he yelled, startling both Milo and I. “Get your tail over here! You still owe me seventeen bits and a day's worth of labor, Caliban!”
“And a good day to you too, Kai! Looking as lovely as ever. Tell me, is that a new sheen on your brow or are you unwashed from yesterday?”
My head whipped around. Quickly, my gaze scanned the wandering people, searching for those familiar blue eyes.
“Thieving little bird,” Kaizer spat.
“You know him?” I asked, my eyes wide. “Where is he?”
“Already flitted off,” Kaizer grumbled. “Never going to get paid. Bastard.”
Milo looked at my curiously as I continued to frantically search the market. That was his voice, wasn’t it? It had been him.
“You okay?”
I slumped, turning back to Milo. “I… yeah. I thought he might have been someone I met. In the cells.” Milo didn’t say anything to that. There wasn’t much he could. And I now stared at my meal, feeling the slightest bit defeated.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo 1]]Kaizer’s expression was fond. He was glancing at the way Milo shoveled in another couple of dumplings and rolling his eyes affectionately at the man. I noticed how some of the other customers that had walked up, hadn’t received nearly the same quantity of food as us.
“I like busy bodies,” I said with a grin. “They keep life interesting.”
Milo snorted by my side while Kaizer shook his head. “Next is not the kind of interesting that–” His expression soured as he cut off his words, his eyes trained on something across the busy street. “You still owe me seventeen bits and a day's worth of labor, Caliban!”
“And a good day to you too, Kai! Looking as lovely as ever. Tell me, is that a new sheen on your brow or are you unwashed from yesterday?”
My head whipped around. Quickly, my gaze scanned the wandering people, searching for those familiar blue eyes.
“Thieving little bird,” Kaizer spat.
“You know him?” I asked, my eyes wide. “Where is he?”
“Already flitted off,” Kaizer grumbled. “Never going to get paid. Bastard.”
Milo looked at me curiously as I continued to frantically search the market. That was his voice, wasn’t it? It had been him.
“You okay?”
I slumped, turning back to Milo. “I… yeah. I thought he might have been someone I met. In the cells.” Milo didn’t say anything to that. There wasn’t much he could. And I now stared at my meal, feeling the slightest bit defeated.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo 1]]“He’s buying me food,” I told the man pragmatically. I could hear Milo snort by my side and even Kaizer gave a quiet belly laugh at that. I had no money to my name and the sad fact was, my answer was pretty close to the truth. Milo was the only one who had been able to offer me protection so far. I would be a fool to leave his side.
“Oy!” Kaizer yelled, startling me out of that particular thought. “Get your tail over here! You still owe me seventeen bits and a day's worth of labor, Caliban!”
“And a good day to you too, Kai! Looking as lovely as ever. Tell me, is that a new sheen on your brow or are you unwashed from yesterday?”
My head whipped around. Quickly, my gaze scanned the wandering people, searching for those familiar blue eyes.
“Thieving little bird,” Kaizer spat.
“You know him?” I asked, my eyes wide. “Where is he?”
“Already flitted off,” Kaizer grumbled. “Never going to get paid. Bastard.”
Milo looked at my curiously as I continued to frantically search the market. That was his voice, wasn’t it? It had been him.
“You okay?”
I slumped, turning back to Milo. “I… yeah. I thought he might have been someone I met. In the cells.” Milo didn’t say anything to that. There wasn’t much he could. And I now stared at my meal, feeling the slightest bit defeated.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo 1]]Milo popped another dumpling into his mouth before tossing his chopsticks aside and giving the stretch of a well fed man. “Alright, you have food, and while you don't have rest, I am no longer concerned about you keeling over on me. So, ask away.”
I stared at him curiously. “Ask what?”
“The billion and one questions floating around that pretty head of yours.”
“Where the hell am I?”
Milo nodded. It was the most obvious question and other than ‘The Night Market’, the question that no one seemed to be able to give me a detailed answer to. Kaizer didn’t seem phased by our conversation and instead was moving on to another guest. A centaur with a split hoof and a diamond-encrusted torso.
“The Night Market,” Milo said dramatically. I was starting to think it was a prerequisite to say that name with a bit of a flourish. “The nexus point of all worlds. If you properly exist, you diverge here.”
I stared at him. “I don’t know what that means.”
Nodding, he gestured to the food. I was stuffed and more than ready to walk it off. The busier streets were placing me a bit more at ease than the beach had done. That, and I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
We bid our goodbyes to Kaizer before heaving ourselves off the rickety stools to wander aimlessly down the endless alley. I spied more than a dozen little eateries that I wanted to try, my eyes widening as bucket size bowls of something steaming and mouth watering was being handed out at a small little stand with a blue awning.
“Okay, I’m just going to give you the standard line and we can go from there,” Milo said. The cigarette from earlier was back in his hands, still unlit and twirling from finger to finger. “There are limitless realities out there. Endless planes of existence and worlds, all of which exist separately and simultaneously at once. They are born and they are destroyed with a snap of a finger and if you think about that too hard you will go mad. However, they are all connected. Here. To the Night Market. A central point in all of space and time, where realities revolve around as if sucked in by some sort of gravitational pull. It is here, that everything and anything can and does exist. No one knows how big this place is. No one knows when it came to be. And everyone fears when it will end because of what that might mean for existence as we know it.” He turned on his heel, raising a brow to me. “Questions?”
[[I was eager to ask my questions]]
[[I had questions but remained wary]]
[[Maybe it was better for him to just tell me what he thought I needed to know]]Thoughts swirled in my head. While I was sure a place like this was bound to bring up an ample amount of queries, mine felt as if they were crumbled bits of wet paper. I couldn’t remember who I was, let alone if the knowledge I was seeking was information I already had. Knowing I had to start somewhere, I picked the question that banged the loudest in my mind.
“Because you don’t know who you are,” he said with a raised brow.
I frowned at that. “No, you’re right. I just–”
“No, I get it. And honestly, even if you had all your memories, plenty of people don’t know of this place.”
“Why?”
Grabbing an apple from a nearby stand, he bit into it. I noticed how he didn’t pay and how the stall owner seemed to show him no mind. “Well, think about it. What would people do if they knew that a place existed out there where anything was possible? Where you could get your mind and heart's desire at very little cost.”
War. There was no doubt that it would all end in war. Someone would desire to control it. Someone else would wish to take it as their own. And suddenly, a place that had never asked for otherworldly conflict, would be rife with it.
“Okay, I get that in a very conceptualized term. But it looks like plenty of people know about this place.” I had accidentally shoulder checked at least a half a dozen people on our walk alone.
“In order to come to the Night Market, you have to be invited,” Milo said. “Who does this invitation, I don’t know. There are theories that it comes down from the Barons, while others say it is the market itself. All I know is that unless you have the proper papers and are meant to be here, you will not know of this place, and you will not pass through the gate that exists in your world.”
“I didn’t have papers on me,” I said. At least not that I knew of. The guard could have taken them I supposed but it seemed counterproductive to what they were demanding of me.
“Which was why you were arrested. Rumor has it some are circumventing the whole Night Market process. Which, you know, when you aren’t exactly sure what the process is I’m sure there are real easy ways to circumvent it. But, if caught, you are taken to the docks. Can’t have people here that will eventually go home and tell everyone what they have seen.”
It was a chance that the Warden hadn’t wanted to take. I had a feeling that even after my bail was bought, the Warden intended to keep tabs on me in case I was taking secrets out of the market with ill intent.
“So what? The plan is to just keep people like me here?”
He nodded, munching on his apple, the crisp snap of his teeth biting through the flesh with a loud pop. “Until you die, yeah.”
“That’ horrible.”
“I never said this place was a saint.”
[[I'm going to find my way home]]
[[Am I stuck here forever?]]
[[What should I do next?]]Thoughts swirled in my head. While I was sure a place like this was bound to bring up an ample amount of queries, mine felt as if they were crumbled bits of wet paper. I couldn’t remember who I was, let alone if the knowledge I was seeking was information I already had. Knowing I had to start somewhere, I picked the question that banged the loudest in my mind.
“Because you don’t know who you are,” he said with a raised brow.
I frowned at that. “No, you’re right. I just–”
“No, I get it. And honestly, even if you had all your memories, plenty of people don’t know of this place.”
“Why?”
Grabbing an apple from a nearby stand, he bit into it. I noticed how he didn’t pay and how the stall owner seemed to show him no mind. “Well, think about it. What would people do if they knew that a place existed out there where anything was possible? Where you could get absolutely anything your mind and heart desired?”
War. There was no doubt in my mind that it would end in war. Someone would desire to control it. Someone else would wish to take it as their own. And suddenly, a place that had never asked for otherworldly conflict, would be rife with it. Still, in general, secrets rarely were kept as such. How had this one managed to hold on so well?
“There are a lot of people here for it to be such a secret,” I said hesitantly.
“In order to come to the Night Market, you have to be invited,” Milo stated, apparently prepared for my concern. “Who does this invitation, I don’t know. There are theories that it comes down to the Barons, while others say it is the market itself. All I know is that unless you have the proper papers and are meant to be here, you will not know of this place, and you will not pass through the gate that exists in your world.”
It had been why I was arrested. A lack of papers and a proper explanation as to why I was here. There was a high possibility that I actually belonged here and that these papers of mine were kept at home somewhere.
“If you show up here without an invitation, can you leave?”
Munching on his apple, the crisp snap of his teeth bit through the flesh with a loud pop. “Not until you die.”
“That’ horrible.”
“I never said this place was a saint.”
[[I'm going to find my way home]]
[[Am I stuck here forever?]]
[[What should I do next?]]Thoughts swirled in my head. While I was sure a place like this was bound to bring up an ample amount of queries, mine felt as if they were crumbled bits of wet paper. I couldn’t remember who I was, let alone if the knowledge I was seeking was information I already had. Knowing where to begin felt like an insurmountable task so instead, I looked at this man, trying to place a certain amount of trust in him.
“Give that I don’t know anything of this world, maybe you should just tell me what you think is important for me to know.”
Grabbing an apple from a nearby stand, he bit into it. I noticed how he didn’t pay and how the stall owner seemed to show him no mind. “Fair. I guess to start it should be known that not many know of this world. May not look that way but when you think of it in the grand scope of //everything// our population is a drop in the cosmic pool. The Velvet Guard and some others try their best to keep this place a secret. Mainly for the fear that if a place like this got out, some overzealous world would try and take everything from here. Or just take this place as their own.”
War. There was no doubt that it would all end in war. Someone would desire to control it. Someone else would wish to take it as their own. And suddenly, a place that had never asked for otherworldly conflict, would be rife with it.
“In order to come to the Night Market, you have to be invited,” he continued. “Who does this invitation, I don’t know. There are theories that it comes down from the Barons, while others say it is the market itself. All I know is that unless you have the proper papers and are meant to be here, you will not know of this place, and you will not pass through the gate that exists in your world. Rumor has it though that some are circumventing the whole Night Market process. Which, you know, when you aren’t exactly sure what the process is I’m sure there are real easy ways to circumvent it. But, if caught, you are taken to the docks. Can’t have people here that will eventually go home and tell everyone what they have seen.”
It was a chance that the Warden hadn’t wanted to take. I had a feeling that even after my bail was bought, the Warden intended to keep tabs on me in case I was taking secrets out of the market with ill intent.
“So what? The plan is to just keep people like me here?”
He nodded, munching on his apple, the crisp snap of his teeth biting through the flesh with a loud pop. “Until you die, yeah.”
“That’ horrible.”
“I never said this place was a saint.”
[[I'm going to find my way home]]
[[Am I stuck here forever?]]
[[What should I do next?]]We began making our way towards more deserted alleyways, leaving behind the tantalizing smells of cooked food and the loud ruckus of the compact district. The cobblestone streets opened up into something wider, leading towards a courtyard with a large fountain in the middle. The structure was made of opaline stone, casting prismatic shards of light across the flagstone pavers that wound outwards into several forked alleys.
“I want to go home,” I said, looking at Milo as he stopped to admire the fountain.
“I’m sure you do.” There was no inflection to his tone. Just an understanding that eventually, I was going to ask this. By default of being the only one here, he was going to have to answer it.
“Do I just need to find the gateway to my world, then?”
He sighed wearily. Water splashed out of the bottom basin of the fountain and Milo tapped his foot against the blotches of moisture that spat out onto the street. “In theory.”
“Good. Do you have a library here? Or, I don’t know, a map of all the gates?”
“In the Book District, probably.”
“Take me there.” With food in my belly, I felt a newfound sense of determination. That, and I didn’t want to stop moving. Resting meant that I would have time to think and I didn’t look forward to what my thoughts had to say.
“How do you suppose you’re going to go about looking for the information you need?” Milo asked, unmoving. “The Night Market isn’t going to want you to leave, so it won’t readily give you what you want and since the Book District is literally made up of piles of books, I’m not even sure which ledger you would need to look in.”
“I have to try,” I protested.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t. I’m saying that you may need to play this a little less half cocked and a little more clear-headed.” The suggestion almost looked as if it pained him. I doubted he would approach it as such if the situation was reversed. “Sleep would be a good start. Perhaps a safe place to rest your head.”
“Milo, I was taken from my home by a mystical force that is now keeping me here against my will. How am I to rest?”
“Sex?” he suggested. Before I could answer him, he hopped up on the fountain's edge. Koi swam in the bubbling lower pool, along with vibrant purple and green fish I had no name for. “I have a friend,” he said. “She’ll be a good resource for you so you have the ability to have a safe space.” A coy smiled twitched at his lips. “No sex required but I do suggest you get it somewhere. Live a little bit like the rest of us depraved souls.”
[[Take me to her]]
[[Why can't I stay with you?]]
[[I'll do whatever you think is best]]We began making our way towards more deserted alleyways, leaving behind the tantalizing smells of cooked food and the loud ruckus of the compact district. The cobblestone streets opened up into something wider, leading towards a courtyard with a large fountain in the middle. The structure was made of opaline stone, casting prismatic shards of light across the flagstone pavers that wound outwards into several forked alleys.
“So am I stuck here forever?” I asked, looking at Milo as he stopped to admire the fountain.
“There’s a high likelihood, yes.” There was no inflection to his tone. Just an understanding that eventually, I was going to ask this. By default of being the only one here, he had to answer but I was doubtful he relished in the idea.
“I had to have come through a gateway, right? So, there must be a way to go back through it. This was all a mistake. I don’t want to be here. I’m trying to correct the action.”
He sighed wearily. Water splashed out of the bottom basin of the fountain and Milo tapped his foot against the blotches of moisture that spat out onto the street. “I understand that, but gates are not easy to find and you can’t just walk through them.”
“I have to try,” I protested. I didn’t expect it to be so easy as walking through a door but I didn’t want to simply give up either.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t. I’m saying that you may need to play this a little less half cocked and a little more clear-headed.” The suggestion almost looked as if it pained him. I doubted he would approach it as such if the situation was reversed. “Sleep would be a good start. Perhaps a safe place to rest your head.”
“Milo, I was taken from my home by a mystical force that is now keeping me here against my will. How am I to rest?”
“Sex?” he suggested. Before I could answer him, he hopped up on the fountain's edge. Koi swam in the bubbling lower pool, along with vibrant purple and green fish I had no name for. “I have a friend,” he said. “She’ll be a good resource for you so you have the ability to have a safe space.” A coy smiled twitched at his lips. “No sex required but I do suggest you get it somewhere. Live a little bit like the rest of us depraved souls.”
[[Take me to her]]
[[Why can't I stay with you?]]
[[I'll do whatever you think is best]]We began making our way towards more deserted alleyways, leaving behind the tantalizing smells of cooked food and the loud ruckus of the compact district. The cobblestone streets opened up into something wider, leading towards a courtyard with a large fountain in the middle. The structure was made of opaline stone, casting prismatic shards of light across the flagstone pavers that wound outwards into several forked alleys.
“What should I do next?” I asked, looking at Milo as he stopped to admire the fountain.
“That is a good question.” There was no inflection to his tone. Just an understanding that eventually, I was going to ask this. And by default, he was going to have to answer. “I suppose it kind of boils down to what you want.”
“I want to go home.” There was a strange pull when I thought of home. As if my mind was being stretched into several directions, seeking out anything that might be familiar. That I could call mine.
“Think smaller than that,” he said, with a small quirk of his lips. “You had some food. What do you want next?”
I felt myself sway. I wanted to find the gate to this world, the area in which I stumbled through, and go back to sleeping within the warm confines of my grandmothers orange comforter. It was an ugly thing but for some reason, it popped into my mind and I knew without a doubt that it was true. That it was //my// memory.
“Alright.” A low chuckle wrapped around me as Milo stepped closer. I had been staring distantly down one of the alley’s, trying to further unravel the small image that had appeared in my head. “How about some sleep, yeah? No one thinks properly when they are exhausted.”
“Milo, I was taken from my home by a mystical force that is now keeping me here against my will. How am I to rest?”
“Sex?” he suggested. Before I could answer him, he hopped up on the fountain's edge. Koi swam in the bubbling lower pool, along with vibrant purple and green fish I had no name for. “I have a friend,” he said. “She’ll be a good resource for you so you have the ability to have a safe space.” A coy smiled twitched at his lips. “No sex required but I do suggest you get it somewhere. Live a little bit like the rest of us depraved souls.”
[[Take me to her]]
[[Why can't I stay with you?]]
[[I'll do whatever you think is best]]“And she won’t just toss me back to the docks once she finds out I’m some mystery person with no papers?”
Milo looked around with an amused expression. A few people looked our way, and I mentally kicked myself for speaking so loud. Maybe I did need to find a safe space to rest my head. At least before I made any more stupid mistakes.
“I assure you,” he started. “Where I will be taking you is safe as houses, whatever that means.”
“Your phrasing is not comforting.”
“Given the predicament you find yourself in, I don’t know what could be comforting.” I didn’t deny his words. They had a certain truth to it.
“Anything else I need to know before we head to this mystery spot?” I asked.
The trickling sound of the fountain faded as Milo pointed to one of the twisting alleys that spiraled out from the courtyard. The amber lights behind us dimmed as we stepped through a wall of bleak ash.
“Let’s see,” Milo said, walking into the alley as if it were nothing. “Some other things you might need to know.”
Green moss struggled to peek through the cracks of the grey cobblestone beneath our feet. Small yellow flowers reaching towards the amber lit courtyard only inches away, but failed to touch the light before they laid down among the soot lined streets. Nothing could grow in a perpetual night, and here, in the darkness of the alley, not even the lanterns could provide comfort.
“This is the way to your friend's?” I asked, hesitant to follow.
Milo looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. What? You scared of the dark?”
[[Why does it smell like smoke?]]
[[Is there another way we can go?]]
[[You’re going to owe me more than dinner if I see a ghost]]
There was a part of me that felt a bit cheated at that. So far, Milo had been the only one to take an interest in my plight. While his interest was more about the morality of it, it was still more than what most of the passersby down at those docks had offered. And now he wanted to pawn me off to another nameless stranger who I was meant to blindly trust.
“Why can’t I stay with you?” I asked.
He quirked a brow at me. “Is that a proposition?”
[[It could be]]
[[(blush) What? No!]]
[[Absolutley not]]“I’ll do what you think is best,” I told him, looking at him with what I hoped was not a fearful expression. I was lost in this world. I was no one here. But maybe this man could help guide me to where I needed to be.
A small and mirthless laugh escaped his lips as he looked at me for a long moment. “Oh, darlin’. I don’t think trusting me to that extent is such a good idea.”
I took a small step back. “Why not?”
“Oh, no, hey.” Holding up his hands, he shook his head. “No. I’m not going to– I’m going to get you somewhere safe. All I’m saying is I’m not known in this market for being the smartest of individuals. I’ve been told I make bad decisions with the best intentions.”
My shoulders eased a bit at that as I sucked in a deep breath. “Sorry,” I told him. “I think I’m on edge.”
“Understandable. Let’s just get you off the streets, yeah? Someplace a bit more quiet.”
The trickling sound of the fountain faded as Milo pointed to one of the twisting alleys that spiraled out from the courtyard. The amber lights behind us dimmed as we stepped through a wall of bleak ash.
“Let’s see,” Milo said, walking into the alley as if it were nothing. “Some other things you might need to know.”
Green moss struggled to peek through the cracks of the grey cobblestone beneath our feet. Small yellow flowers reaching towards the amber lit courtyard only inches away, but failed to touch the light before they laid down among the soot lined streets. Nothing could grow in a perpetual night, and here, in the darkness of the alley, not even the lanterns could provide comfort.
“This is the way to your friend's?” I asked, hesitant to follow.
Milo looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. What? You scared of the dark?”
[[Why does it smell like smoke?]]
[[Is there another way we can go?]]
[[You’re going to owe me more than dinner if I see a ghost]]
I shrugged. “Like you said, I have to rest somehow.” I didn’t particularly mind the fact. Part of me was also curious as to how far he would take it.
He chuckled low at that, and it sent something warm to my belly. The boyish look that had charmed his face faltered slightly, revealing something beneath that I didn’t entirely understand yet. But I did have a slight craving to find out what that was.
“Let me finish with your questions, and then we can talk.” His tone had promise to it, sending a thrill up my spine.
“Fair,” I agreed.
The trickling sound of the fountain faded as Milo pointed to one of the twisting alleys that spiraled out from the courtyard. The amber lights behind us dimmed as we stepped through a wall of bleak ash.
“Let’s see,” Milo said, walking into the alley as if it were nothing. “Some other things you might need to know.”
Green moss struggled to peek through the cracks of the grey cobblestone beneath our feet. Small yellow flowers reaching towards the amber lit courtyard only inches away, but failed to touch the light before they laid down among the soot lined streets. Nothing could grow in a perpetual night, and here, in the darkness of the alley, not even the lanterns could provide comfort.
“This is the way to your friend's?” I asked, hesitant to follow.
Milo looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. What? You scared of the dark?”
[[Why does it smell like smoke?]]
[[Is there another way we can go?]]
[[You’re going to owe me more than dinner if I see a ghost]]
I felt the blush creep up my neck and color my cheeks. My heart fluttered at the look in his eyes as he stepped forward.
“What? No,” I said quickly. “Of course not.” Heat curled within my belly as he stepped up to me. His fingers reached out, brushing against my cheek, his thumb running softly against my skin.
“You sure, darlin’?”
“Yes. I - I didn’t mean…” I swallowed thickly as I trailed off. Not sure what I was supposed to say.
He grinned at me, his smile crinkled and reaching the corners of his amber eyes. “You’re gettin’ a bit heated,” he drawled. “We maybe should take care of that when we get the chance.”
Stepping away, cool air swept over me. I watched as he shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking once more. With one look over his shoulder, I was helpless to follow.
The trickling sound of the fountain faded as Milo pointed to one of the twisting alleys that spiraled out from the courtyard. The amber lights behind us dimmed as we stepped through a wall of bleak ash.
“Let’s see,” Milo said, walking into the alley as if it were nothing. “Some other things you might need to know.”
Green moss struggled to peek through the cracks of the grey cobblestone beneath our feet. Small yellow flowers reaching towards the amber lit courtyard only inches away, but failed to touch the light before they laid down among the soot lined streets. Nothing could grow in a perpetual night, and here, in the darkness of the alley, not even the lanterns could provide comfort.
“This is the way to your friend's?” I asked, hesitant to follow.
Milo looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. What? You scared of the dark?”
[[Why does it smell like smoke?]]
[[Is there another way we can go?]]
[[You’re going to owe me more than dinner if I see a ghost]]
“Are you one of those people who propositions someone no matter the circumstance?” I asked. He seemed uncaring of timing and just took the opportunity when it arose.
He laughed. “Habit. My apologies. I’ve been told I’m a flirt.”
You could see it. Through the way he walked, his tendency of letting his gaze linger. I felt no malice behind it. Just a simple aspect of his personality. Either way, he still kept his hands to his side and the distance between us comfortable.
“Keep going,” I said with a tired sigh. “What else do I need to know about the illusive Night Market?”
The trickling sound of the fountain faded as Milo pointed to one of the twisting alleys that spiraled out from the courtyard. The amber lights behind us dimmed as we stepped through a wall of bleak ash.
“Let’s see,” Milo said, walking into the alley as if it were nothing. “Some other things you might need to know.”
Green moss struggled to peek through the cracks of the grey cobblestone beneath our feet. Small yellow flowers reaching towards the amber lit courtyard only inches away, but failed to touch the light before they laid down among the soot lined streets. Nothing could grow in a perpetual night, and here, in the darkness of the alley, not even the lanterns could provide comfort.
“This is the way to your friend's?” I asked, hesitant to follow.
Milo looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. What? You scared of the dark?”
[[Why does it smell like smoke?]]
[[Is there another way we can go?]]
[[You’re going to owe me more than dinner if I see a ghost]]
“It smells like smoke,” I said, stepping over the threshold of the alley and hearing the fountain dim almost immediately. The streets were lined with burnt down shops and broken bits of decor. A fire had raged here at some point, leaving very little in its wake.
“Smoke is better than what it could smell like.” Milo was strolling down the eerie alley unaffected by the devastation closing in on either side of us. “The market itself is made up of nine Barons,” he said, picking up where he left off, as if the burnt out shops were an everyday sight. “Don’t ask me to list or name them all because they change constantly.” He kicked at a stray rock, bouncing after it a bit in an expulsion of energy. “Magic is a thing here. Though, in order to keep everyone on the up and up, it is taken from you the second you enter the gates. You want to use magic, you have to either carry an artifact like a Baron does, or buy it from the local stalls.”
“You can just buy magic?”
“Most don’t. There is something freeing about not being able to just cast at will. Makes everyone a little more equal than they might have been before.”
“What about these papers I’m supposed to get?” I asked. “I don’t want to go back down to the docks.” Even now, despite Milo’s apparent comfort with his surroundings, I felt as if I was being watched.
“I’ll let Hazel know you need them. You won’t be the first she’s helped out like this.”
“And Hazel is the name of the woman you’re bringing me to?”
He made a sound of affirmation. “She’s a good kid. And by kid, I mean my age. She’s a little eccentric but in a harmless sort of way. The apothecary in the herb district is hers. Which is like a block wide. She is the maestro of your herbal needs and makes a mean pot of tea.” The rock he had continued to kick disappeared within the walls lining the alley. He frowned as something I couldn’t see but didn’t go after it. “She’s also a bog witch, even though she won’t admit it, and can curse you with a twitch of her nose.” I saw his eyes tick towards mine, glinting mischievously even in the grey light. “But you can trust her.”
[[She sounds like she is a good friend?]]
[[Do you often break people out from the docks and bring them to her]]
[[Is she your girlfriend]]
“Is there another way we can go?” The darkness that loomed in what looked like a never ending tunnel, had the food in my stomach churning.
“Nope. Hazel’s dead ends here. There’s a nice little creek though if you can make it past all the ghosts.” I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When one didn’t come, I swallowed thickly. “Come on,” he grinned. “You get too scared and I’ll hold your hand.”
Stepping over the threshold of the alley, I heard the sound of the fountain dim with an audible snap. The streets were lined with burnt down shops and broken bits of decor. A fire had raged here at some point, leaving very little in its wake.
Milo was strolling down the eerie alley unaffected by the devastation closing in on either side of us. “The market itself is made up of nine Barons,” he said, picking up where he left off, as if the burnt out shops were an everyday sight. “Don’t ask me to list or name them all because they change constantly.” He kicked at a stray rock, bouncing after it a bit in an expulsion of energy. “Magic is a thing here. Though, in order to keep everyone on the up and up, it is taken from you the second you enter the gates. You want to use magic, you have to either carry an artifact like a Baron does, or buy it from the local stalls.”
“You can just buy magic?”
“Most don’t. There is something freeing about not being able to just cast at will. Makes everyone a little more equal than they might have been before.”
“What about these papers I’m supposed to get?” I asked. “I don’t want to go back down to the docks.” Even now, despite Milo’s apparent comfort with his surroundings, I felt as if I was being watched.
“I’ll let Hazel know you need them. You won’t be the first she’s helped out like this.”
“And Hazel is the name of the woman you’re bringing me to?”
He made a sound of affirmation. “She’s a good kid. And by kid, I mean my age. She’s a little eccentric but in a harmless sort of way. The apothecary in the herb district is hers. Which is like a block wide. She is the maestro of your herbal needs and makes a mean pot of tea.” The rock he had continued to kick disappeared within the walls lining the alley. He frowned as something I couldn’t see but didn’t go after it. “She’s also a bog witch, even though she won’t admit it, and can curse you with a twitch of her nose.” I saw his eyes tick towards mine, glinting mischievously even in the grey light. “But you can trust her.”
[[She sounds like she is a good friend?]]
[[Do you often break people out from the docks and bring them to her]]
[[Is she your girlfriend]]
He looked at me in challenge, clearly wondering if I would turn and run the other direction. I wanted to say that after the night I had, there couldn’t possibly be anything that phased me. But, I was not dumb enough to discredit the unknown.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to look at him, unaffected. “You’re going to owe me a lot more than just dinner if a ghost pops up from the shadows.”
Milo chuckled. “Just don’t make eye contact with them and you should be fine.” He didn’t wait for me to answer and with the ease in which he turned to walk down the street, it left me questioning if there really was ghosts waiting for us just up ahead.
“Come on,” he called over his shoulder. “You get too scared, and I’ll hold your hand.”
Stepping over the threshold of the alley, I heard the sound of the fountain dim with a snap. The streets were lined with burnt down shops and broken bits of decor. A fire had raged here at some point, leaving very little in its wake.
Milo was strolling down the eerie alley unaffected by the devastation closing in on either side of us. “The market itself is made up of nine Barons,” he said, picking up where he left off, as if the burnt out shops were an everyday sight. “Don’t ask me to list or name them all because they change constantly.” He kicked at a stray rock, bouncing after it a bit in an expulsion of energy. “Magic is a thing here. Though, in order to keep everyone on the up and up, it is taken from you the second you enter the gates. You want to use magic, you have to either carry an artifact like a Baron does, or buy it from the local stalls.”
“You can just buy magic?”
“Most don’t. There is something freeing about not being able to just cast at will. Makes everyone a little more equal than they might have been before.”
“What about these papers I’m supposed to get?” I asked. “I don’t want to go back down to the docks.” Even now, despite Milo’s apparent comfort with his surroundings, I felt as if I was being watched.
“I’ll let Hazel know you need them. You won’t be the first she’s helped out like this.”
“And Hazel is the name of the woman you’re bringing me to?”
He made a sound of affirmation. “She’s a good kid. And by kid, I mean my age. She’s a little eccentric but in a harmless sort of way. The apothecary in the herb district is hers. Which is like a block wide. She is the maestro of your herbal needs and makes a mean pot of tea.” The rock he had continued to kick disappeared within the walls lining the alley. He frowned as something I couldn’t see but didn’t go after it. “She’s also a bog witch, even though she won’t admit it, and can curse you with a twitch of her nose.” I saw his eyes tick towards mine, glinting mischievously even in the grey light. “But you can trust her.”
[[She sounds like she is a good friend?]]
[[Do you often break people out from the docks and bring them to her]]
[[Is she your girlfriend]]
“She sounds like a really good friend.” I could hear the protectiveness in his voice. The woman obviously meant something to him. He held her regard dear.
A fondness crossed his face at the thought of her. Something tinged with remorse. “Hazel is… well, you’ll see. She’s got a heart of absolute gold.”
“Have you known her long?”
“Seems like forever. Passage of time gets a bit disjointed within the market. But yeah. She’s one of my oldest friends here. I would do anything for that woman.”
For the first time, I saw an etching of a frown begin to cross Milo. It was reminiscent to something I had thought I had momentarily seen down in the tunnel, but was more clear in the swaying lamplight above. “She’s run on some tough times as of late, Hazel has. She could really use some help around her shop while you’re looking for a way home.”
I nodded. “You don’t really pay in money, it seems. You pay for everything in services?”
“Hazel would give you food and board for free.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’m asking that you don’t take advantage of that kindness.”
There was a seriousness to his tone the likes of which I hadn’t heard yet. I found myself nodding without much question, not wishing to upset the very people who might be able to help me.
“Good. Then let’s get you there and settled,” he said with a flourish.
[[Next|To Hazel's]]I side eyed him. The path we were on was obviously familiar, and I wondered just how many he had led down this stone alley before. “Do you often break people out from the docks and bring them to her?” I tried to keep my tone curious, but there was a small part of me that wondered what exactly I was walking into.
“Actually, kind of,” he chuckled. “It’s not as often as she would like but I try to help when I can. The ones who have slipped through the gate due to no fault of their own don’t deserve the likes of the docks.”
“So this is a set-up you two have? To help people like me?”
A fondness crossed his face at the thought of her. Something tinged with remorse. “Hazel is… well, you’ll see. She’s got a heart of absolute gold. So,yeah? I guess this is a bit of a set-up. Never thought of it like that really.”
“Have you known her long?”
“Seems like forever. Passage of time gets a bit wonky within the market. But yeah. She’s one of my oldest friends here. I would do anything for that woman.”
For the first time, I saw an etching of a frown begin to cross Milo. It was reminiscent to something I had thought I had momentarily seen down in the tunnel, but was more clear in the swaying lamplight above. “She’s run on some tough times as of late, Hazel has. She could really use some help around her shop while you’re looking for a way home.”
I nodded. “You don’t really pay in money, it seems. You pay for everything in services?”
“Hazel would give you food and board for free.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’m asking that you don’t take advantage of that kindness.”
There was a seriousness to his tone the likes of which I hadn’t heard yet. I found myself nodding without much question, not wishing to upset the very people who might be able to help me.
“Good. Then let’s get you there and settled,” he said with a flourish.
[[Next|To Hazel's]]“She your girlfriend?”
He tripped over his own two feet at my words, looking at me with a deep sort of offense. “Hazel? No. No no no no no. I don’t sleep with someone who knows how to poison you a hundred and ten different ways.” He shivered at the mere thought before his face twisted up into a vague sort of disgust. “No, Hazel is… well, you’ll see. She’s got a heart of absolute gold. But she is far more a sister than anything else to me.”
For the first time, I saw an etching of a frown begin to cross Milo. It was reminiscent to something I had thought I had momentarily seen down in the tunnel, but was more clear in the swaying lamplight above. “She’s run on some tough times as of late, Hazel has. She could really use some help around her shop while you’re looking for a way home.”
I nodded. “You don’t pay in money. You pay in services.”
“Hazel would give you food and board for free. I’m asking that you don’t take advantage of that kindness.”
There was a seriousness to his tone the likes of which I hadn’t yet heard. I found myself nodding without much question, not wishing to upset the very people sticking their neck out for me.
“Good. Then let’s get you there and settled,” he said with a flourish.
[[Next|To Hazel's]]I quickly learned that the Apothecary District was simply the burnt out husk of an alley we walked down, with the shop that his friend Hazel owned, being the only standing structure. While there was no light to be seen, a grey cast still emanated from our surroundings. It provided just enough clarity for us to not stumble in the dark. Waxy vines of forest green began appearing the closer we came to the end of the alley, however, helping to drive away the worst of the lingering smoke. When the soot filled streets finally disappeared, we were presented with a breath of dew filled air.
A garden was laid out before us. Large flowers of the deepest mauve crawled up the far wall, stretching out to wrap around the arching branches of a white birch tree. Beneath the tree was a grove of herbs, leaving the air aromatic and smelling like a meadow would after the first rain. There were clay pots filled with the brightest flowering shrubs of yellow and orange and a large caged area where ripe and supple fruits hung from strong vines. My eyes blurred with the sudden change.
A path of broken gems and glass wound between everything, the small shards glittering and sending up little motes of iridescent dust. The ground looked as if it glowed, as a thin shimmering fog settled about our ankles.
“Come on,” Milo said. “She should be home.”
A small hut sat just on the other side of a woven fence, nearly obscured by the jeweled tones of life that sprouted up around it. By no means was it anything special. A large wood archway with a broken gate marked the entrance to the property, the moss covered structure splintered in some places. The house itself was made of wood and was dotted with stained-glass windows and circular portcullises. The chimney puffed sweet smelling smoke from a bent and whistling pipe, and the roof was shingled with various shades of what looked like damp cedar. The house was two strong winds from falling apart. But I didn’t dare speak such a thought out loud.
Milo didn’t knock as he pushed open the front door and a wave of heat barreled into us. It smelled of cloves and wrapped us up in a muggy embrace.
“Oh,” the worried tone sounded from somewhere deep within the shop.
“Hazel?” Milo called out. He looked over his shoulder at me, his smile meant to be reassuring, but I couldn’t help but notice how cautious his steps had become. “Haze?”
[[Walk in behind him]]
[[Stay outside and observe]]Walking in behind Milo, I looked around the room. A large crash rumbled across the wooden floor, followed by a muffled shriek. The room itself was fairly dark, lit only by the filtered light coming in through the windows, and even that was murky at best. Splotches of smeared dirt and oil coated the glass in layers of grime, giving the room a dreary appearance.
“What the hell has she…?” Milo didn’t get to finish his sentence as he side skirted a large crate with a fist size hole near one of the bottom corners. A crate that I ran completely into, my hip hitting the sharp corner. What looked like walnuts spilled across a warped floor where small brooms swept like mad. They sent the rolling nuts scattering everywhere, knocking into piles of fallen hearth wood and upturned cauldrons. When one of the brooms raced over Milo’s feet, trying to sweep his shoes, he kicked it across the room. The bundle of twigs and rough straw let out an unearthly screech.
“Hazel!” he shouted. He put a steadying hand on me to keep me from moving too much further into the room. At least until my eyes adjusted.
From up above, there were more scratches just before a woman tipped her head over the upper landing, her brown hair falling from her poufy bun. Flour dotted across her dark skin, congealing with sweat and making a discolored paste that smeared across her cheeks.
“Milo,” she said in relief. Her fingers were curled around the knotted oak banister, the only thing keeping her from tipping completely over the side. “Oh, you brought a customer.” Her face tried to morph into a warm smile but as a broom knocked her from the side, she stumbled, panic flashing across her face.
[[Try to help her|Chapter Two Try to help her]]
[[Ask Milo if you're both in danger]]
[[Start kicking brooms]]As the brooms began to multiply I couldn’t just sit by. Next to the door was a crate, no bigger than one used to pick apples. I grabbed it, along with a coat hanging from a hook to my right, and began trying to gather the brooms and toss them inside the box. Once one was in, I covered them with the jacket. I could see them wiggling beneath the fabric but they were not strong enough to displace the heavy wool cloak.
“What did you do?” Milo shouted up towards Hazel, kicking at another one of the brooms. They were no more than a foot tall, made of spindly looking twigs and fluffy stalks of wheat or thrush. As far as I could tell, they were trying to clean, but instead were sending up motes of dust and other mixtures of debris until the air was nearly cloudy with it.
“I needed help,” she protested, ducking as one of the motes of dust pounced down from behind her. An odd animal like form made from the layers of detritus tried to latch onto her shoulder.
“This doesn’t look like help.” Milo was looking murderously down at the broom that kept trying to clean him.
Hazel yelped as one of the brooms crawled up her side, attempting to sweep the flour from her face. “I was desperate.” She batted the rough bristles away, holding the thing out to the side. It squirmed as it tried to sweep the motes of dust within the air.
“Well look no further,” Milo said with a grin that even I could see was tight. “I brought you a new shop hand.”
[[Greet her warmly]]
[[This wasn't what I signed up for]]
[[Get to work]]“Should I go get some help?” I asked, ducking as something whizzed by, scurrying out the front door and disappearing with four little hops into the mint patch beneath the front window. “Are we in danger?”
Milo glanced back at me irritably, as a broom began sweeping his face. “I will burn these damn things before I let them get the best of me.”
“Not exactly what I asked,” I pointed out, but let him continue to fight the small brooms at his feet while nuts rolled across the floor like marbles.
“What did you do?” Milo shouted up towards Hazel, kicking at another one of the brooms. They were no more than a foot tall, made of spindly looking twigs and fluffy stalks of wheat or thrush. As far as I could tell, they were trying to clean, but instead were sending up motes of dust and other mixtures of debris until the air was nearly cloudy with it.
“I needed help,” she protested, ducking as one of the motes of dust pounced down from behind her. An odd animal like form made from the layers of detritus tried to latch onto her shoulder.
“This doesn’t look like help.” Milo was looking murderously down at the broom that kept trying to clean him.
Hazel yelped as one of the brooms crawled up her side, attempting to sweep the flour from her face. “I was desperate.” She batted the rough bristles away, holding the thing out to the side. It squirmed as it tried to sweep the motes of dust within the air.
“Well look no further,” Milo said with a grin that even I could see was tight. “I brought you a new shop hand.”
[[Greet her warmly]]
[[This wasn't what I signed up for]]
[[Get to work]]A large crash spilled throughout the room, followed by a muffled shriek. The shop itself was fairly dark, lit only by the filtered light coming in through the windows, and even that was murky at best. Splotches of smeared dirt and oil coated the glass in layers of grime, giving the room a dreary appearance.
“What the hell has she…?” Milo didn’t get to finish his sentence as he side skirted a large crate with a fist size hole near one of the bottom corners. What looked like nuts were spilling out of it, rolling across the floor where small brooms tried to sweep them up but instead sent them scattering to all corners of the shop. The walnuts crashed into cauldrons and tumbled over piles of wood. When one of the brooms raced over Milo’s feet, trying to sweep his shoes, he kicked it across the room. The bundle of twigs and rough straw let out an unearthly screech.
“Hazel!” he shouted.
From up above, there were more scratches just before a woman tipped her head over the upper landing, her brown hair falling from her poufy bun. Flour dotted across her dark skin, congealing with sweat and making a discolored paste that smeared across her cheeks.
“Milo,” she said in relief. Her fingers were curled around the knotted oak banister, the only thing keeping her from tipping completely over the side. “Oh, you brought a customer.” Her face tried to morph into a warm smile but as a broom knocked her from the side, she stumbled, panic flashing across her face.
[[Don't get involved]]
[[Step inside to try and help her]]
[[Start kicking brooms]]I continued to stand back, unsure whether going in would add to the chaos unfolding. The room was dark, and my eyes struggled to adjust. Even Milo squinted, waving his hand in the air as if to clear the shadows away. To my surprise, they actually listened.
“What did you do?” Milo asked, kicking at another one of the brooms. They were no more than a foot tall, made of spindly looking twigs and fluffy stalks of wheat or thrush. As far as I could tell, they were trying to clean, but instead were sending up motes of dust and other mixtures of debris until the air was nearly cloudy with it.
“I needed help,” she protested, ducking as one of the motes of dust pounced down from behind her. An odd animal like form made from the layers of detritus tried to latch onto her shoulder.
“This doesn’t look like help.” Milo was looking murderously down at the broom that kept trying to clean him.
Hazel yelped as one of the brooms crawled up her side, attempting to sweep the flour from her face. “I was desperate.” She batted the rough bristles away, holding the thing out to the side. It squirmed as it tried to sweep the motes of dust within the air.
“Well look no further,” Milo said with a grin that even I could see was tight. “I brought you a new shop hand.”
[[Greet her warmly]]
[[This wasn't what I signed up for]]
[[Get to work]]As the brooms began to multiply I couldn’t just sit by. Next to the door was a crate, no bigger than one used to pick apples. I grabbed it, along with a coat hanging from a hook to my right, and began trying to gather the brooms and toss them inside the box. Once one was in, I covered them with the jacket. I could see them wiggling beneath the fabric but they were not strong enough to displace the heavy wool cloak.
“What did you do?” Milo shouted up towards Hazel, kicking at another one of the brooms. They were no more than a foot tall, made of spindly looking twigs and fluffy stalks of wheat or thrush. As far as I could tell, they were trying to clean, but instead were sending up motes of dust and other mixtures of debris until the air was nearly cloudy with it.
“I needed help,” she protested, ducking as one of the motes of dust pounced down from behind her. An odd animal like form made from the layers of detritus tried to latch onto her shoulder.
“This doesn’t look like help.” Milo was looking murderously down at the broom that kept trying to clean him.
Hazel yelped as one of the brooms crawled up her side, attempting to sweep the flour from her face. “I was desperate.” She batted the rough bristles away, holding the thing out to the side. It squirmed as it tried to sweep the motes of dust within the air.
“Well look no further,” Milo said with a grin that even I could see was tight. “I brought you a new shop hand.”
[[Greet her warmly]]
[[This wasn't what I signed up for]]
[[Get to work]]A few of the little brooms began making their way out of the shop and onto the front landing. There wasn’t really time to think as I heard the woman from above shriek in rage, batting them off the upper story. One came down and hit Milo squarely in the head. When it bounced out to my feet I brought my foot down hard on it, listening to its squeaks of protests. The wheat stalks bent under the pressure but it looked remarkably still intact.
“Grab something,” Hazel was saying. “We need to get them back in the box.”
Looking over his shoulder, Milo shrugged before launching himself into the shop with some odd version of a battle cry. Meanwhile, I grabbed a crate that I spied from the side of the door and began stomping on the little things so I could pick them up and toss them inside. When one flew by my shoulder to land somehow neatly in the box, I turned to see Milo standing their in triumph, arms in the air.
“Score,” he shouted.
“Milo,” the woman admonished. “Box. Now.”
“What did you even do?” Milo asked, kicking at another one of the brooms. They were no more than a foot tall, made of spindly looking twigs and fluffy stalks of wheat or thrush. As far as I could tell, they were trying to clean, but instead were sending up motes of dust and other mixtures of debris until the air was nearly cloudy with it.
“I needed help,” she protested, ducking as one of the motes of dust pounced down from behind her. An odd animal like form made from the layers of detritus tried to latch onto her shoulder.
“This doesn’t look like help.” Milo was looking murderously down at the broom that kept trying to clean him.
Hazel yelped as one of the brooms crawled up her side, attempting to sweep the flour from her face. “I was desperate.” She batted the rough bristles away, holding the thing out to the side. It squirmed as it tried to sweep the motes of dust within the air.
“Well look no further,” Milo said with a grin that even I could see was tight. “I brought you a new shop hand.”
[[Greet her warmly]]
[[This wasn't what I signed up for]]
[[Get to work]]When Hazel’s eyes landed on me again, I saw relief burn through her. It was nothing more than a flicker, but one that I knew took a weight from her shoulders. Brooms invading her shop was probably not what she wanted to present to a potential customer.
“Hi,” I said with a small wave. “I’m $name.”
“Hi,” she returned excitedly. “I… oh, I… sorry. I just wasn’t expecting something so fortuitous to walk through my door. Guess I should have known though with it being Milo bringing you here and all. I’m just so… would you knock it off?” Her expression turned sour as another broom climbed up her leg, picking at a frayed patch on her skirt. With a huff of impatience, she grabbed at it, stomping her feet with a rough tap as she disappeared from view. I could hear her rummaging around up top and occasionally see the bob of her kinky locks, before she was winding herself down a rickety wrought iron spiral set of stairs. She had at least a dozen of those little brooms in hand.
“I bought them,” she said in way of explanation. Several other large crates adorned the shop floor, but there was one in particular that seemed set apart from others. It was made of dark cherry wood and had a blue embossed symbol carved on each side. Hazel shoved aside the lid and started dropping the brooms in. “Orders have been piling up. I just needed someone to help clean. But since I can’t really find anyone to help clean, I had to resort to buying some enchantments. Should have known better than to buy them from the budget district.”
I took the brooms nearest to me and began emptying into the box along with her.
“You bought self-cleaning brooms from the budget district?” Milo laughed. “Who’d you go see? It wasn’t Halkin, was it?”
“Mia Rochey.”
The name for whatever reason sent Milo into a fit of laughter that had him leaning on a broken bookshelf, holding his belly. Several tomes fell from where they perched precariously up top, hitting him on the head and shoulder as they tumbled down. Hazel closed the crate and dusted off her skirt, sending him a satisfied look.
“You deserved that,” she said. Then, she turned to me. “Hi again. Sorry. This was probably not what you expected to walk in on your first day.”
[[I haven't really expected anything I've seen yet]]
[[I'm just thankful you're both willing to help me]]
[[No. Attacking brooms is not the first things I thought of]]“Shop keep?” I turned bewildered eyes towards Milo. He had said I would need to help her out , but I hadn’t expected to be put to work in a storefront. I had just been in their version of a jail. Cleaning the local herbal shop wasn’t exactly what I had been expecting to do.
“You have to earn your keep somehow,” Milo pointed out.
Piles of rags sat in stained corners with questionable odors peeling off them. They were interspersed between large barrels and crates, all of which were open, most of which were empty. Dust clung to the corners of the room in an attempt to make a home for any arachnids that wished to move in. The large wrap around counter that took up the back wall could barely be seen because it was covered with scales and pots. Meanwhile, small cutting knives and large stone mortars were tipped to the side with flowers spilling around them. A layer of detritus stuck to every surface, some of which looked like they were working on starting a new life now that they had been forgotten and well-fed by the other misplaced bits of earth and debris.
“It’s going to take more than me to do anything to this place,” I protested. “And I really don’t plan on sticking around that long.”
Something crossed Milo’s eyes. It licked across the outer sclera as he straightened his spine to regard me. His lips parted, ready to remind me of just where he could take me back to. Hazel tripped on the bottom of the winding staircase behind us though, adverting both our attentions.
“He didn’t tell you,” she said resigned. It was clear this was something that had happened before. “Milo, where did you go to hire ?them?”
“The pens.”
Hazel’s eyes snapped up towards me. “Oh. Oh, you poor thing.” She dropped the brooms unceremoniously into an open crate before pulling the lid shut with a bang. “Of course you don’t have to work here. You’ve been through enough. Milo, ?they’s been through enough.”
“You need help, Hazel, and papers aren’t easy. Besides, we agreed when we got the next one from the docks, we’d have them stick around for a while. Help a bit.”
[[I'll help in trade for papers]]
[[Don't commit to anything]]
[[Did you actually buy my bail?]]Something in me sunk at his words. I hadn’t gone to the bail block but it looked as if the expectation was going to be the same. “So, you’re not different then. You still expect to buy my bail.”
Milo moved to say something, but stopped when Hazel stepped forth. “I promise you,you are free. Whether you work for me or not. Let me get you some identification papers so you don’t land in more trouble and then I can help you go anywhere.”
“I want to get home.” I had no idea how to do that, though.
Determination crossed her face. “I will help you with that, no matter what comes. This is what I do. Milo too, when he’s being honest.”
“Hey!”
“It’s true,” she said with a roll of her eyes before turning back to me. “I have an empty room you can use. You look dead on your feet and I doubt that anything will be solved for the time being. How about you get some sleep in you and we can talk in the morning,” she suggested.
Hazel had a pretty smile. It was one of the ones that bowed up into something sweet and soft at each corner of her tanned face. Her chocolate brown locks were twisted up into a bun on top of her head, showcasing high cheek bones and a sloped jaw. Her gaze reflected her name, a deep green brown that lay set within slightly almond shaped eyes. She stood at all five foot two and was curvy beneath her billowing top and layers of patch worked skirts. Not even the smudges of dirt across her face could hide the fact that she was a kind soul.
I looked hesitantly between her and Milo. Milo’s expression had soured, his lips turned downwards as he shuffled his feet back and forth in hopes of avoiding whatever stare Hazel was prone to cast his way.
“Besides,” Hazel said cheerfully, “I believe Milo has just volunteered to help me with the shop tonight.” Taking him by the arm, she looped hers through his own, resting her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her, clearly confused as to how he had gotten himself in this position, but I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t refute her claim.
Looking around the room, Hazel tried to decide on what she needed to do first. Meanwhile, the brooms banged around in the crate behind her. “I think I’m going to be busy with this for sure tonight but you just let me know if there is anything I can get you, $name.”
Sleep. I needed sleep. But if felt like a far off proclivity that would be snatched from my grasp the second it became obtainable. The weariness pounded against my skull though and the backs of my calves ached from trudging through sand. With night being an endless stretch, I was unsure how many days had even passed or if it was mere hours. Adrenaline had begun to seep from me upon emerging from the tunnels beneath, and exhaustion had only been staved off with the presence of food.
“Oh dear.” I heard Hazel gasp right as I stumbled into one of the wayward crates.
“Sleep it is then.” Milo proclaimed. He had been busy making himself a temporary broom in hopes of righting the shop somewhat. Or he was messing around with whatever interesting materials he found hiding behind Hazel’s counter.
“Come on,” Hazel said, winding around a particularly foul and blackened mark on her floor. “Let's get you to bed.” I was finally too tired to do much else but follow.
She led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pathos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep. While I had just met her, I was willing to my put all my trust in her for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]“I’ll work,” I said, growing more tired by the moment. “If it helps me get my papers, I’ll work. I don’t want to cause any more trouble. I just wasn’t expecting… this.” I gestured around me at the dilapidated shop and the way it sprawled before me now. At least it looked like the broom situation was under control.
“To be fair, I doubt anyone would have really expected to walk into this,” Hazel said with an ounce of mirth lacing her voice.
“That’s what you get for buying budget,” Milo muttered.
Hazel had a pretty smile. It was one of the ones that bowed up into something sweet and soft at each corner of her tanned face. Her chocolate brown locks were twisted up into a bun on top of her head, showcasing high cheek bones and a sloped jaw. Her gaze reflected her name, a deep green brown that lay set within slightly almond shaped eyes. She stood at all five foot two and was curvy beneath her billowing top and layers of patch worked skirts. Not even the smudges of dirt across her face could hide the fact that she was a kind soul.
I looked hesitantly between her and Milo. Milo’s expression had soured, his lips turned downwards as he shuffled his feet back and forth in hopes of avoiding whatever stare Hazel was prone to cast his way.
“Besides,” Hazel said cheerfully, “I believe Milo has just volunteered to help me with the shop tonight.” Taking him by the arm, she looped hers through his own, resting her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her, clearly confused as to how he had gotten himself in this position, but I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t refute her claim.
Looking around the room, Hazel tried to decide on what she needed to do first. Meanwhile, the brooms banged around in the crate behind her. “I think I’m going to be busy with this for sure tonight but you just let me know if there is anything I can get you, $name.”
Sleep. I needed sleep. But if felt like a far off proclivity that would be snatched from my grasp the second it became obtainable. The weariness pounded against my skull though and the backs of my calves ached from trudging through sand. With night being an endless stretch, I was unsure how many days had even passed or if it was mere hours. Adrenaline had begun to seep from me upon emerging from the tunnels beneath, and exhaustion had only been staved off with the presence of food.
“Oh dear.” I heard Hazel gasp right as I stumbled into one of the wayward crates.
“Sleep it is then.” Milo proclaimed. He had been busy making himself a temporary broom in hopes of righting the shop somewhat. Or he was messing around with whatever interesting materials he found hiding behind Hazel’s counter.
“Come on,” Hazel said, winding around a particularly foul and blackened mark on her floor. “Let's get you to bed.” I was finally too tired to do much else but follow.
She led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pathos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep. While I had just met her, I was willing to my put all my trust in her for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]I stayed quiet, observing the two in front of me. Milo had some sort of bitter twist to his lips, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of something I had said, or if it was because the brooms were still racing around his feet.
Hazel, on the other hand, had her hands on her hips and was leveling a gaze towards him that I doubted many had the gall to do. “You don’t just get to make these decisions, Milo,” she said. “If someone does not want to work here, they do not have to work here.”
“You need help,” he said firmly. There was a pinched look to my face.
“I’ve survived a long time without help, Milo, I don’t necessarily need it now.”
“That’s not true. How many times have you taken on too much? Just because your mom…” he trailed off, his fingers tight around the handle of a broom.
Hazel’s features softened, all irritation gone from her face as she walked over, cupping his face between her palms. She said nothing. Only stared at him sadly, resting her forehead against his own. I stayed silent during the exchange, adverting my eyes from a moment that was far more intimate than what I should have been privy too.
“I’m sorry.” Hazel’s voice was directed back towards me as she turned from Milo. “Let’s start over. I’m Hazel Alright. You are?”
“$name,” I said, feeling the tension in the air begin to slip away.
Hazel had a pretty smile. It was one of the ones that bowed up into something sweet and soft at each corner of her tanned face. Her chocolate brown locks were twisted up into a bun on top of her head, showcasing high cheek bones and a sloped jaw. Her gaze reflected her name, a deep green brown that lay set within slightly almond shaped eyes. She stood at all five foot two and was curvy beneath her billowing top and layers of patch worked skirts. Not even the smudges of dirt across her face could hide the fact that she was a kind soul.
I looked hesitantly between her and Milo. Milo’s expression had soured, his lips turned downwards as he shuffled his feet back and forth in hopes of avoiding whatever stare Hazel was prone to cast his way.
“Besides,” Hazel said cheerfully, “I believe Milo has just volunteered to help me with the shop tonight.” Taking him by the arm, she looped hers through his own, resting her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her, clearly confused as to how he had gotten himself in this position, but I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t refute her claim.
Looking around the room, Hazel tried to decide on what she needed to do first. Meanwhile, the brooms banged around in the crate behind her. “I think I’m going to be busy with this for sure tonight but you just let me know if there is anything I can get you, $name.”
Sleep. I needed sleep. But if felt like a far off proclivity that would be snatched from my grasp the second it became obtainable. The weariness pounded against my skull though and the backs of my calves ached from trudging through sand. With night being an endless stretch, I was unsure how many days had even passed or if it was mere hours. Adrenaline had begun to seep from me upon emerging from the tunnels beneath, and exhaustion had only been staved off with the presence of food.
“Oh dear.” I heard Hazel gasp right as I stumbled into one of the wayward crates.
“Sleep it is then.” Milo proclaimed. He had been busy making himself a temporary broom in hopes of righting the shop somewhat. Or he was messing around with whatever interesting materials he found hiding behind Hazel’s counter.
“Come on,” Hazel said, winding around a particularly foul and blackened mark on her floor. “Let's get you to bed.” I was finally too tired to do much else but follow.
She led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pathos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep. While I had just met her, I was willing to my put all my trust in her for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]The shop was in absolute disarray. There was no other way to spin it.
The room itself was fairly large underneath all the clutter, and I could see the potential for something old world and beautiful. Piles of rags sat in stained corners with questionable odors peeling off them. They were interspersed between large barrels and crates, all of which were open, most of which were empty. Dust clung to the corners of the room in an attempt to make a home for any arachnids that wished to move in. The large wrap around counter that took up the back wall could barely be seen because it was covered with scales and pots. Meanwhile, small cutting knives and large stone mortars were tipped to the side with flowers spilling around them. A layer of detritus stuck to every surface, some of which looked like they were working on starting a new life now that they had been forgotten and well-fed by the other misplaced bits of earth and debris. And while I could not see the entirety of the second floor, with the way something green and viscous dripped near the corner, I doubted it was any better.
Rolling up my sleeves, I gave a small huff, buzzing my lips at the mountain of work I had before me. If this was how I was to earn my keep while I was here, then so be it. Milo had been right. We had no leads on how to get me home, and nothing would be solved tonight. But, I could put myself to good use in the meantime and create connections with the people who seemed like they could help me navigate the world I suddenly found myself in.
“Do you have a broom that doesn’t move?” I asked.
Hazel stared at me as two more mini brooms climbed the folds of her skirt, trying to mend a frayed patch at her hip. When one tugged too hard, it snapped her out of her reverie. Gathering them in her hands, she made her way down the winding steps, collecting the enchanted little creatures as she went.
“It broke yesterday,” she said. “Which is why I went and bought these guys. I thought they would be more helpful, but apparently I didn’t read the fine print.” She tossed the destructive forces in question into an open crate. “I do have a mop.” She frowned at that, tapping one long finger against her chin. “Though I suppose with the amount of debris on the floor, that ‘s only going to make a fine paste to push around.”
Milo snorted from the corner, shaking his head as he began to gather the rest of the brooms and shove them into the box Hazel had started collecting them in. With each one added to its depths, the blue embossed symbol on the side glowed faintly. I could hear Milo muttering something about a damn budget district. He hissed in pain when one of them nipped at his fingers in an attempt to bite him.
“You deserved that,” Hazel said. Then, she turned to me. “Hi again. Sorry. This was probably not what you expected to walk in on your first day.”
[[I haven't really expected anything I've seen yet]]
[[I'm just thankful you're both willing to help me]]
[[No. Attacking brooms is not the first things I thought of]]“It’s been a weird day all around,” I said. “I don’t think I really have expectations anymore.”
Stepping away from the bookshelf that seemed intent on accosting him, Milo shook his head. “Haze, this one is from the pens. I sprung ?them this morning.” A significant look was exchanged between them but it was one that I clearly was not meant to comment on.
<<if $mcbreakslock == "true">>“I sprung myself, actually.”
“With my help.”
Crossing my arms I quirked a brow towards him. “Could have done it on my own.”
“If I was a lesser man I’d suggest we’d go back and have you try,” he said with a grin.<</if>>
Closing the lid firmly on the crate now filled with wriggling brooms, Hazel turned to me. There was still the occasional irate broom dancing about in a vain attempt to clean, but the damage they had done seemed already at a breaking point.
“You must be exhausted,” she said sympathetically. Wiping her hands on the folds of her skirt, she gave me a sympathetic smile. “Hello, I’m Hazel Albright. Local herbalist and amateur gardener.”
“$name,” I responded.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you $name.”
Hazel had a pretty smile. It was one of the ones that bowed up into something sweet and soft at each corner of her tanned face. Her chocolate brown locks were twisted up into a bun on top of her head, showcasing high cheek bones and a sloped jaw. Her gaze reflected her name, a deep green brown that lay set within slightly almond shaped eyes. She stood at all five foot two and was curvy beneath her billowing top and layers of patch worked skirts. Not even the smudges of dirt across her face could hide the fact that she was a kind soul.
“I have a room in the back for you if you wish to rest. It’s not much, but it can provide a nice little place for you to call your own while I figure out your papers.”
I looked hesitantly back and forth between her and Milo. “You need help, though.” I didn’t want to be rude, but it was clear that the entirety of the room needed to be scrubbed top to bottom.
“I do,” she said cheerfully, “and I believe Milo has just volunteered.” Taking him by the arm, she looped hers through his own, resting her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her, clearly confused as to how he got himself in this position, but I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t refute her claim.
Looking around the room, Hazel tried to decide on what she needed to do first. Meanwhile, the brooms banged around in the crate behind her. “I think I’m going to be busy with this for sure tonight but you just let me know if there is anything I can get you, $name.”
Sleep. I needed sleep. But if felt like a far off proclivity that would be snatched from my grasp the second it became obtainable. The weariness pounded against my skull though and the backs of my calves ached from trudging through sand. With night being an endless stretch, I was unsure how many days had even passed or if it was mere hours. Adrenaline had begun to seep from me upon emerging from the tunnels beneath, and exhaustion had only been staved off with the presence of food.
“Oh dear.” I heard Hazel gasp right as I stumbled into one of the wayward crates.
“Sleep it is then.” Milo proclaimed. He had been busy making himself a temporary broom in hopes of righting the shop somewhat. Or he was messing around with whatever interesting materials he found hiding behind Hazel’s counter.
“Come on,” Hazel said, winding around a particularly foul and blackened mark on her floor. “Let's get you to bed.” I was finally too tired to do much else but follow.
She led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pathos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep. While I had just met her, I was willing to my put all my trust in her for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]“Thank you,” I told her immediately. “I mean it. Thank you to both of you for being so willing to help me.”
She tilted her head to the side, her hands on her hips. I saw that way her gaze shifted to Milo, but he seemed to be avoiding her gaze studiously. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“That obvious?”
“A little,” she said sympathetically. “You another one from the pens?” I nodded. “Papers?”
“They’ve got nothing, Haze,” Milo said from her side. “I’ve collected another wayward soul for you to save.”
She tossed a look over her shoulder at Milo before gesturing pointedly at a crate. Milo rolled his eyes but picked it up, beginning the laborious task of helping get the shop back in order.
“Well, I’m sure Milo has given you the whole dramatic Night Market spiel. We can always talk more in the morning. I got a nice bed for you in back if you want it. It’s not much, but after a day like I’m sure you’ve had, it’s probably welcomed.”
Hazel had a pretty smile. It was one of the ones that bowed up into something sweet and soft at each corner of her tanned face. Her chocolate brown locks were twisted up into a bun on top of her head, showcasing high cheek bones and a sloped jaw. Her gaze reflected her name, a deep green brown that lay set within slightly almond shaped eyes. She stood at all five foot two and was curvy beneath her billowing top and layers of patch worked skirts. Not even the smudges of dirt across her face could hide the fact that she was a kind soul.
I looked hesitantly back and forth between her and Milo. “You need help, though.” I didn’t want to be rude, but it was clear that the entirety of the room needed to be scrubbed top to bottom.
“I do,” she said cheerfully, “and I believe Milo has just volunteered.” Taking him by the arm, she looped hers through his own, resting her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her, clearly confused as to how he got himself in this position, but I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t refute her claim.
Looking around the room, Hazel tried to decide on what she needed to do first. Meanwhile, the brooms banged around in the crate behind her. “I think I’m going to be busy with this for sure tonight but you just let me know if there is anything I can get you, $name.”
Sleep. I needed sleep. But if felt like a far off proclivity that would be snatched from my grasp the second it became obtainable. The weariness pounded against my skull though and the backs of my calves ached from trudging through sand. With night being an endless stretch, I was unsure how many days had even passed or if it was mere hours. Adrenaline had begun to seep from me upon emerging from the tunnels beneath, and exhaustion had only been staved off with the presence of food.
“Oh dear.” I heard Hazel gasp right as I stumbled into one of the wayward crates.
“Sleep it is then.” Milo proclaimed. He had been busy making himself a temporary broom in hopes of righting the shop somewhat. Or he was messing around with whatever interesting materials he found hiding behind Hazel’s counter.
“Come on,” Hazel said, winding around a particularly foul and blackened mark on her floor. “Let's get you to bed.” I was finally too tired to do much else but follow.
She led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pathos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep. While I had just met her, I was willing to my put all my trust in her for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]“Attacking brooms isn’t what I usually expect for my day. Then again, I can’t remember anything so I guess this could be normal.”
She tilted her head to the side, her hands on her hips. I saw the way her gaze shifted to Milo, but he seemed to be avoiding her gaze studiously. “Memory wipe?” she asked.
“I really don’t know.” It was on the list of questions I knew I needed to address, but how did you even go about addressing such a thing with complete strangers, while standing in the midst of a dark shop with dancing brooms?
“They’ve got nothing, Haze,” Milo said from her side. “I’ve collected another wayward soul for you to save.”
She tossed a look over her shoulder at Milo before gesturing pointedly at a crate. Milo rolled his eyes but picked it up, beginning the laborious task of helping get the shop back in order.
“Well, I’m sure Milo has given you the whole dramatic Night Market spiel. We can always talk more in the morning. I got a nice bed for you in back if you want it. It’s not much, but after a day like I’m sure you’ve had, it’s probably welcomed.”
Hazel had a pretty smile. It was one of the ones that bowed up into something sweet and soft at each corner of her tanned face. Her chocolate brown locks were twisted up into a bun on top of her head, showcasing high cheek bones and a sloped jaw. Her gaze reflected her name, a deep green brown that lay set within slightly almond shaped eyes. She stood at all five foot two and was curvy beneath her billowing top and layers of patch worked skirts. Not even the smudges of dirt across her face could hide the fact that she was a kind soul.
I looked hesitantly back and forth between her and Milo. “You need help, though.” I didn’t want to be rude, but it was clear that the entirety of the room needed to be scrubbed top to bottom.
“I do,” she said cheerfully, “and I believe Milo has just volunteered.” Taking him by the arm, she looped hers through his own, resting her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her, clearly confused as to how he got himself in this position, but I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t refute her claim.
Looking around the room, Hazel tried to decide on what she needed to do first. Meanwhile, the brooms banged around in the crate behind her. “I think I’m going to be busy with this for sure tonight but you just let me know if there is anything I can get you, $name.”
Sleep. I needed sleep. But if felt like a far off proclivity that would be snatched from my grasp the second it became obtainable. The weariness pounded against my skull though and the backs of my calves ached from trudging through sand. With night being an endless stretch, I was unsure how many days had even passed or if it was mere hours. Adrenaline had begun to seep from me upon emerging from the tunnels beneath, and exhaustion had only been staved off with the presence of food.
“Oh dear.” I heard Hazel gasp right as I stumbled into one of the wayward crates.
“Sleep it is then.” Milo proclaimed. He had been busy making himself a temporary broom in hopes of righting the shop somewhat. Or he was messing around with whatever interesting materials he found hiding behind Hazel’s counter.
“Come on,” Hazel said, winding around a particularly foul and blackened mark on her floor. “Let's get you to bed.” I was finally too tired to do much else but follow.
She led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pathos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep. While I had just met her, I was willing to my put all my trust in her for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]The stairwell was rickety like everything else within the home, winding upwards through a carved out wooden plank passageway dotted with knotted holes that looked out onto a lush expanse of greenery. It struck me that the house did not look big enough to have a second story, let alone a winding secret passage to a bedroom somewhere beyond. But this strange lantern filled land I found myself in didn’t make sense, and therefore it was probably best to accept oddities as they came rather than fight them into an explanation.
Hazel pushed open a blank door to a cluttered sitting room. Floral painted sofas were arranged around a large square coffee table teaming with books and old mugs of tea. A large ball of glittering lights hung suspended over it, casting the room in a warm glow that shifted soothingly. The walls were lined with potted plants and worn paintings, and the floor was covered in plush rugs. Hazel sidestepped it all, leading me to a door to the right.
Inside, was a single bed adorned with a green comforter and several misshapen pillows. A small armoire stood sturdily in the corner, along with an oversized chair in a mustard velvet yellow and a nightstand that looked as if it had sprouted from the earth to grow into a small rounded platform next to the bed. A soft breeze of eucalyptus wafted in the room and as I looked up, a canopy of shifting leaves swayed gently above me, making up the roof and letting in the cerulean blue of the light from outside Hazel’s home.
“There is a washroom just outside to the left,” Hazel said. “The taps can get a bit finicky, but you just need to give them a swift kick, and normally they’ll hop right to it.” She was standing in the door, observing me carefully. I couldn’t remember when I had moved into the room. “When you wake, I’ll most likely be downstairs. But feel free to explore. You’re safe here, $name.”
Safe.
What an odd word suddenly.
I gave Hazel a weak smile but said nothing more. I didn’t think I would be able to. Already my eyes were drooping, and I could feel the edges of sleep pulling me into slumber. When my head hit the pillow, the door clicked shut. The last thing I remembered, before drifting off, was how the pillow smelled sweetly of lavender and chamomile.
[[Next|Chapter Two Part 2]]The stairwell was rickety like everything else within the home, winding upwards through a carved out wooden plank passageway dotted with knotted holes that looked out onto a lush expanse of greenery. It struck me that the house did not look big enough to have a second story, let alone a winding secret passage to a bedroom somewhere beyond. But this strange lantern filled land I found myself in didn’t make sense, and therefore it was probably best to accept oddities as they came rather than fight them into an explanation.
Hazel pushed open a blank door to a cluttered sitting room. Floral painted sofas were arranged around a large square coffee table teaming with books and old mugs of tea. A large ball of glittering lights hung suspended over it, casting the room in a warm glow that shifted soothingly. The walls were lined with potted plants and worn paintings, and the floor was covered in plush rugs. Hazel sidestepped it all, leading me to a door to the right.
Inside, was a single bed adorned with a green comforter and several misshapen pillows. A small armoire stood sturdily in the corner, along with an oversized chair in a mustard velvet yellow and a nightstand that looked as if it had sprouted from the earth to grow into a small rounded platform next to the bed. A soft breeze of eucalyptus wafted in the room and as I looked up, a canopy of shifting leaves swayed gently above me, making up the roof and letting in the cerulean blue of the light from outside Hazel’s home.
“There is a washroom just outside to the left,” Hazel said. “The taps can get a bit finicky, but you just need to give them a swift kick, and normally they’ll hop right to it.” She was standing in the door, observing me carefully. I couldn’t remember when I had moved into the room. “When you wake, I’ll most likely be downstairs. But feel free to explore. You’re safe here, $name.”
Safe.
What an odd word suddenly.
I gave Hazel a weak smile but said nothing more. I didn’t think I would be able to. My hands shook as I thought about the day and what my fate had almost become. As she closed the door behind her I covered my mouth with my hand, as if to keep the fear firmly inside. But it consumed me, aching across my body like a worn bruise.
Stumbling to the bed, I laid down, curling my knees to my chest. The world around me still felt terrifying in a way that I didn’t think I’d be able to comprehend just yet. Already my chest felt tight and my world was tipping unsteadily to one side. When my head hit the pillow, I closed my eyes tightly, willing this to all me an unfortunate dream. The last thing I remembered, before drifting off, was how the pillow smelled sweetly of lavender and chamomile.
[[Next|Chapter Two Part 2]]The stairwell was rickety like everything else within the home, winding upwards through a carved out wooden plank passageway dotted with knotted holes that looked out onto a lush expanse of greenery. It struck me that the house did not look big enough to have a second story, let alone a winding secret passage to a bedroom somewhere beyond. But this strange lantern filled land I found myself in didn’t make sense, and therefore it was probably best to accept oddities as they came rather than fight them into an explanation.
Hazel pushed open a blank door to a cluttered sitting room. Floral painted sofas were arranged around a large square coffee table teaming with books and old mugs of tea. A large ball of glittering lights hung suspended over it, casting the room in a warm glow that shifted soothingly. The walls were lined with potted plants and worn paintings, and the floor was covered in plush rugs. Hazel sidestepped it all, leading me to a door to the right.
Inside, was a single bed adorned with a green comforter and several misshapen pillows. A small armoire stood sturdily in the corner, along with an oversized chair in a mustard velvet yellow and a nightstand that looked as if it had sprouted from the earth to grow into a small rounded platform next to the bed. A soft breeze of eucalyptus wafted in the room and as I looked up, a canopy of shifting leaves swayed gently above me, making up the roof and letting in the cerulean blue of the light from outside Hazel’s home.
“There is a washroom just outside to the left,” Hazel said. “The taps can get a bit finicky, but you just need to give them a swift kick, and normally they’ll hop right to it.” She was standing in the door, observing me carefully. I couldn’t remember when I had moved into the room. “When you wake, I’ll most likely be downstairs. But feel free to explore. You’re safe here, $name.”
Safe.
What an odd word suddenly.
I gave Hazel a weak smile but said nothing more. I didn’t think I would be able to. I had awoken to a horror show of a world today and I was not the only one suffering from it. There were still people on that beach. Still ones that were locked in cages or were now being escorted to their place of servitude. Others not so lucky and taken to unspeakable places behind the auction block. It made my stomach knot into something bitter and harsh. I could see the look on Hazel’s face when she closed the door. The look that said she understood. It made me feel marginally better about staying here.
Tiredly, I made my way to the bed, laying down on the soft comforter and idly wondering if I would wake up to this being nothing more than an unfortunate nightmare. I desperately hoped it was.
The last thing I remembered, before drifting off, was how the pillow smelled sweetly of lavender and chamomile.
[[Next|Chapter Two Part 2]]That night, I slept. My dreams were hazy and off kilter, a swirl of color that didn’t belong with images that were just out of reach. I tried to grab for them, but my hand passed through the silken hues of multicolored fog, disintegrating whatever image that was trying to form. When my eyes opened to the waxy canopy above, thick green leaves fluttering in a light wind, I blinked. I was still here. Still within the Night Market. I hadn’t returned home like I hoped. Wherever home may be at least.
Sitting up in bed, I looked around the room. It was the same from the night before, which was oddly comforting. At least no surprises greeted me within these four walls. I couldn’t hear the bustle of anyone awake, nor the low tones of quiet conversation outside my door. Given the way the night lingered, I had no idea if anyone would even be awake.
Rising from my bed, I looked down at myself. I had fallen asleep in my clothes. Clothes that I was almost certain belonged to the Night Market as opposed to whatever my life had been before. I wore a simple pair of tan trousers and a tunic to match. They were plain and felt coarse, stained with salt water and sand and reminded me of that very small cell all over again. I would have to ask Hazel if there was something else I could wear. Or perhaps someplace I could go to get something new.
That left the idea of money, however.
Money I didn’t have, and money I desperately needed in order to pay for the papers whose very lack of existence landed me in jail.
With my head in my hands, I groaned.
[[Next|Chapter Two hair]]
Getting up, I stretched, feeling surprisingly rested. I wondered how long I had slept. Against the far wall, there was a wash basin, the water within still steaming. I frowned as I approached. Had someone put it in my room while I was asleep?
Burning embers sat in the bottom of the basin, keeping the water warm. A washcloth sat folded to the side, along with a simple bar of sweet-smelling soap. It looked fatty and caked with bits of lavender and roses.
Looking up into the mirror, I rubbed at my eyes.
[[I have a shaved head|Hair 2][$hairlength to "shaved"]]
[[I have short hair, resting around my ears|Hair 2][$hairlength to "short"]]
[[I have chin length hair|Hair 2][$hairlength to "chin length"]]
[[Medium length hair|Hair 2][$hairlength to "medium"]]
[[Long hair|Hair 2][$hairlength to "long"]]
<<set $facialdetails to "true">>[[My hair was fine and straight|Hair 3][$hairtype to "fine and straight"]]
[[My hair was thick and straight|Hair 3][$hairtype to "thick and straight"]]
[[My hair was wild and unmanageable|Hair 3][$hairtype to "wild and unmanageable"]]
[[My hair was curly|Hair 3][$hairtype to "curly"]]
[[My hair was wavy|Hair 3][$hairtype to "wavy"]]
[[My hair was coiled|Hair 3][$hairtype to "coiled"]][[I had freckles|Appearance][$freckles to "true"]]
[[I did not have freckles|Appearance][$freckles to "false"]][[I had thin lips|Appearance 2][$mouth to "thin"]]
[[I had average shaped lips|Appearance 2][$mouth to "average"]]
[[I had full lips|Appearance 2][$mouth to "full"]][[I had no facial hair|Appearance 3][$facialhair to "false"]]
[[I had stubble|Appearance 3][$facialhair to "true"]]
[[I had a medium length beard|Appearance 3][$facialhair to "true"]]
[[I had a full length beard|Appearance 3][$facialhair to "true"]]My $hairlength length hair was limp and greasy from days of being unwashed. My $mouth lips were chapped and cracked at each side, dried blood staining the corners. <<if $freckles == "true">> My once pronounced freckles looked faded against my $skincolor skin. <</if>> <<if $facialhair == "true">> While my facial hair seemed to have grown a bit more than what I had last seen. <</if>>
Dipping the washcloth in the warm water, I wiped it across my face and arms, trying to take away the grit of sand that still clung to me after the bail blocks. With one look back at the bed, I could see where it littered the sheets in small dirty granules.
<<if $beginningroute == "solostab">> My side ached and still felt stiff from where my skin had knitted back together. Pulling my tunic up, I no longer saw the stiff bandage, but just the faint moon shaped scar instead. I still didn't understand how that was even possible but didn't know if I really wanted to know just how bad the wound had really been. I was just thankful it was a minor irritation for the moment. <</if>>
Sighing, I looked at myself for another moment. I needed a bath but the warm water at least took the sheen of oil from my face. If it was possible, I probably would need to burn these clothes as well.
[[Next|Hazel’s living room]]I exited the small room Hazel had shown me to, the room at least mildly familiar. I half expected to see the cavern walls of the cell once more. It made me think of the trickling water there and the blue-eyed man. Now that I was out, I wondered if I would ever see him again.
The living space was empty and kept in a state of cozy untidiness. Throw blankets were tossed haphazardly over the sofa while a morning snack and the remnants of tea were left out on the coffee table. I wandered the room, not brave enough to open the other doors, but did find a kitchenette. The counters were cluttered with baskets of bread and fruit and from the rafters, dried herbs were bundled and hung. Overall, the place was clean, simply messy and filled to the brim. I was unaware if anyone other than Hazel lived here. The other closed doors suggested so, and it had sounded as if she wasn’t a stranger to opening her home.
[[Explore the upper floor]]
[[Head downstairs]]There was a warped window near the kitchenette, the glass foggy with time and the seal around the pane itself frayed. Even as I took my sleeve and rubbed against it, I could barely discern what lay below. I thought I saw a back garden, a few cages of vegetables and herbs gathered together near an old shed. Beyond, looked to be a creek of some sort. It was dark with the odd shadow milling about before dissipating into a thin tendril of fog.
Pushing away from the wall, I turned to look at the room with a closer eye. The artwork on the wall looked hand painted. Hazel’s, perhaps. Though the artist signature in the corner was MA. The pictures depicted landscapes mostly. Little bits of the world covered in dappled sunlight. The pictures coated the walls like wallpaper. All signed the same. All filled with golden rays of beautiful sun. It was clear that they were important somehow. Bits of paper that had begun to curl with time had been painstakingly pinned back down while the old and brittle ones had been placed within handmade frames.
Most of the rooms I poked my head in were empty. Like mine, they only had a bed and a chair, waiting for someone to come and fill it. There was a small bathroom with a deep steel tub and a room that looked like a greenhouse. Two doors were separated from the rest, however. One with a mushroom embossed in a crude carving on the door. The other blank.
[[Investigate the mushroom door]]
[[Investigate the blank door]]
[[Head downstairs]]
<<set $perception ++>>Vaguely, I remembered Hazel saying to come and find her downstairs when I woke. Feeling a bit uncomfortable in someone else's home, I braved the narrow stairwell instead, heading to the shop below.
Lighting was certainly a problem within the shop. If there had been sun, the apothecary would be lit with warm tones of golden light and worn wooden floors that smelled deeply of the forest. The outside remained night, however, and the dark interior did nothing to brighten the expanse of the shop. The soft candles that burned on almost every available surface was what kept the chill from creeping in from outside, though the shadows that moved beneath the flickering flame looked far too sentient for my liking.
“Oh, you’re up.”
Hazel stood behind the wrapped counter, three rungs up on a ladder. She was putting away what looked like large jars of dried herbs. The counter itself was littered with cuttings, all of which were centered around a bronze scale.
Coming the rest of the way into the room, I stopped a few feet from her, curling my hands within the stained sleeves of my tunic. “How long was I asleep?”
“Nearly two days.”
My eyes widened. It hadn’t felt like two days. I could still feel the grit of sleep, muzzy and soft like cobwebs in the corners of my mind. The passage of time in this place was illusive at best. “I didn’t even realize,” I said, almost numbly.
“That's okay.” Hopping off the ladder, she wiped her hands on her apron, looking at me from over the countertop. She was not a tall woman. Not by any means. And as I stood there, I could spy several ladders placed conveniently around the store. “You obviously needed the rest,” she said. “I have some food over there if you would like to eat. Warm bread, fruit, some cheese. Nothing fancy, but I didn’t want to cook up a storm without knowing when you’d be up.”
[[Thank you but you didn't need to do all that]]
[[I'm starving. This is great]]
[[I don't think my stomach is ready for food just yet]]A small, low-lying table was tucked in the corner of the shop, away from the main entrance. The candlelight bowed towards it as if to light my way, encouraging me to eat. Sure enough, it was reminiscent of her kitchenette. Though, the bit of food she claimed to have prepared was actually an overflowing bout of sustenance that smelled heavenly.
“Thank you,” I said, almost in awe of what was placed before me. “But you really didn’t have to do this.”
“It really is no worry.” I noticed the way she ducked her head, shuffling her feet a bit at my gratitude. “Now, go on,” she encouraged. “Eat. Mr. Billows will keep you company.”
“Mr. Billows?”
A large, gray cat stared back at me from an amber colored cushion. He sat beneath the table, his eyes narrowed. I got the distinct impression Mr. Billows may be guarding some of that food.
Heading to the table, I sat down, tucking my legs beneath me. There were no chairs, just piles of cushions. The slatted walls were slightly broken, allowing blue light to glow from outside. I could smell the scent of fresh air and the dewy stalks of mint. It helped keep down the headiness from the dozens of wax burning candles.
“I just finished filling orders,” Hazel called out.
<<if $beginningroute =="tunnelescape">>The shop looked a bit cleaner than when I had last seen it. The brooms looked like they were all gone, except for one that seemed to be dusting the rafters. The large crates had been confiscated and the piles of hazelnuts that had scattered along the floor were now gone.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute == "hazel">>The shop looked a bit cleaner than when I had last seen it. The wisps were all gone with the exception of a few hovering in the rafters. The general destruction that they had left behind was swept up and tucked away elsewhere, leaving the shop in a relative calm.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute =="fleshpits">>The shop had, from what I could remember, been a bit of a mess last night. When I came in, I thought that was just how it always had looked. Cluttered and dark and very very dusty. It was clear now that something had happened and from the looks of it, Hazel had spent most of the time I was sleeping, fixing it all up.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>The shop had, from what I could remember, been a bit of a mess last night. When I came in, I thought that was just how it always had looked. Cluttered and dark and very very dusty. It was clear now that something had happened and from the looks of it, Hazel had spent most of the time I was sleeping, fixing it all up.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <</if>>
A small, low-lying table was tucked in the corner of the shop, away from the main entrance. The candlelight bowed towards it as if to light my way, encouraging me to eat. Sure enough, it was reminiscent of her kitchenette. Though, the bit of food she claimed to have prepared was actually an overflowing bout of sustenance that smelled heavenly.
“It smells delicious,” I told her. She grinned widely at that, ducking her head down a bit at the compliment. I wondered how many times she had set the spread, wondering when I would be getting up.
"Eat," she encouraged. "Mr. Billows will keep you company."
“Mr. Billows?”
A large, gray cat stared back at me from an amber colored cushion. He sat beneath the table, his eyes narrowed. I got the distinct impression Mr. Billows may be guarding some of that food.
Heading to the table, I sat down, tucking my legs beneath me. There were no chairs, just piles of cushions. The slatted walls were slightly broken, allowing blue light to glow from outside. I could smell the scent of fresh air and the dewy stalks of mint. It helped keep down the headiness from the dozens of wax burning candles.
“I just finished filling orders,” Hazel called out.
<<if $beginningroute =="tunnelescape">>The shop looked a bit cleaner than when I had last seen it. The brooms looked like they were all gone, except for one that seemed to be dusting the rafters. The large crates had been confiscated and the piles of hazelnuts that had scattered along the floor were now gone.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute == "hazel">>The shop looked a bit cleaner than when I had last seen it. The wisps were all gone with the exception of a few hovering in the rafters. The general destruction that they had left behind was swept up and tucked away elsewhere, leaving the shop in a relative calm.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute =="fleshpits">>The shop had, from what I could remember, been a bit of a mess last night. When I came in, I thought that was just how it always had looked. Cluttered and dark and very very dusty. It was clear now that something had happened and from the looks of it, Hazel had spent most of the time I was sleeping, fixing it all up.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>The shop had, from what I could remember, been a bit of a mess last night. When I came in, I thought that was just how it always had looked. Cluttered and dark and very very dusty. It was clear now that something had happened and from the looks of it, Hazel had spent most of the time I was sleeping, fixing it all up.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <</if>>
A small, low-lying table was tucked in the corner of the shop, away from the main entrance. The candles moved slowly towards it as if to light my way, encouraging me to eat. Sure enough, it was reminiscent of her kitchenette. Though, the bit of food she claimed to have prepared was actually an overflowing bout of sustenance. I should have been hungry. Two days without food should have turned me into something ravenous. But the very sight of it made my stomach roll and my head swim.
“It looks delicious,” I told her. “But I don’t think I can really stomach much right now.”
She frowned at that, her eyes turning concerned. “You need to start introducing food back into your body,” she said softly. “Even if it’s just a bit of bread and applesauce.”
I looked back at the table with trepidation. I knew she was right. My only hope was that I wouldn’t be sick all over her floor.
“Go on,” she encouraged. “Eat. Mr. Billows will keep you company.”
“Mr. Billows?”
A large, flat faced cat stared back at me from an amber colored cushion. He sat beneath the table, his eyes narrowed. I got the distinct impression Mr. Billows may be guarding some of that food.
Heading to the table, I sat down, tucking my legs under me. There were no chairs, just piles of cushions. The slatted walls were slightly broken, allowing blue light to glow from outside. I could smell the scent of fresh air and the dewy stalks of mint. It helped keep down the headiness from the dozens of wax burning candles.
“I just finished filling orders,” Hazel called out.
<<if $beginningroute =="tunnelescape">>The shop looked a bit cleaner than when I had last seen it. The brooms looked like they were all gone, except for one that seemed to be dusting the rafters. The large crates had been confiscated and the piles of hazelnuts that had scattered along the floor were now gone.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute == "hazel">>The shop looked a bit cleaner than when I had last seen it. The wisps were all gone with the exception of a few hovering in the rafters. The general destruction that they had left behind was swept up and tucked away elsewhere, leaving the shop in a relative calm.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute =="fleshpits">>The shop had, from what I could remember, been a bit of a mess last night. When I came in, I thought that was just how it always had looked. Cluttered and dark and very very dusty. It was clear now that something had happened and from the looks of it, Hazel had spent most of the time I was sleeping, fixing it all up.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>The shop had, from what I could remember, been a bit of a mess last night. When I came in, I thought that was just how it always had looked. Cluttered and dark and very very dusty. It was clear now that something had happened and from the looks of it, Hazel had spent most of the time I was sleeping, fixing it all up.
[[I'm sorry I didn't stay awake to help]]
[[Did Milo help you with all this?]]
[[I hope you didn't do this all on your own]] <</if>>
“I’m sorry I didn’t stay awake and help you with all of this.” I gestured around the room and the mess that had been here prior.
“Milo was a trooper and ended up helping me get it all under control,” she said.
“Must have taken you guys a while.”
She nodded a little. “He’s used to it. He crashes on that couch there when he’s here too late. Or eats too much food,” she giggled. Shelving the last of the herbs, she wiped her hands on her apron before coming over to join me. With her hands on her hips, she looked down at the cat there. He had his butt in the air and was eyeing my feet. “Mr. Billows, be nice.”
A low rumble sounded from behind a turned table leg as the fluffy gray cat receded into the depths.
“He really is a sweetheart,” she said. “Just a tad bit of indigestion this morning, I think.”
[[Ask about your papers]]
[[Am I safe here]]
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>[[Ask about working for her]]<</if>>
“Did Milo help you with all this?” I gestured around the room and the mess that had been here prior. Milo hadn’t struck me as the kind of guy who went out of his way to clean the nitty-gritty. More like the kind of guy who would claim he would help and then bail about a third of the way through.
“He did,” Hazel smiled. “He’s my go to when things get overwhelming. Or, more like, he just steps in when things get overwhelming.”
“Seems like you two are close,” I said. With the way they both talked of each other, it was almost a wonder they were not together.
“He’s like a brother to me.” There was something about her words that sounded off. But I didn’t know this woman and didn’t think it was really my place to ask. Not yet at least.
“Must have taken you guys a while to clean,” I said, looking around the shop. It was far from sparkling, but it was at least put back together.
“We’re kind of used to it by now,” she said. “The amount of times this shop has been destroyed and then put back together is almost laughable. There was one time that I combined the wrong powders for a love tonic and all the windows blew out. Pretty sure Milo still has a scar from it. My brother for sure never forgave me for that.” She looks up at the windows, a fond look on her face. “He had to redo all the stained-glass for me.”
Shelving the last of the herbs, she wiped her hands on her apron before coming over to join me. With her hands on her hips, she looked down at the cat there. His butt was in the air and he was eyeing my feet. “Mr. Billows, be nice.”
A low rumble sounded from behind a turned table leg as the fluffy grey cat receded into the depths.
“He really is a sweetheart,” she said. “Just a tad bit of indigestion this morning, I think.”
[[Ask about your papers]]
[[Am I safe here]]
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>[[Ask about working for her]]<</if>>
“You didn’t do this all on your own, did you?” I gestured around the room. It wasn’t pristine by any means, but it was a far cry from what I had walked into a few days ago.
“Milo was a trooper and ended up helping me get it all under control,” she said. “I was also able to enchant a few of the brooms to do their actual job. I’m pretty sure Milo will be going down to the budget district for a refund though.”
“Yeah, they didn’t seem worth your money.”
“That’s what I get for buying bulk and cheap. It’s just business hasn’t been great lately. Which in a way I’m really happy about because that means not a lot of people are sick, or trying to hex each other. But, a girl has got to pay the for food.”
“You sell hexes?”
She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “I sell sachets that bring you to the conclusion that you are being vindicated for whatever wrong has fallen upon you.”
“That sounds like a very Night Market thing to say.” The people I had encountered so far seemed to speak very carefully.
Shelving the last of the herbs, she wiped her hands on her apron before coming over to join me. With her hands on her hips, she looked down at the cat there. His but was in the air as he was eyeing my feet. “Mr. Billows, be nice.”
A low rumble sounded from behind a turned table leg as the fluffy grey cat receded into the depths.
“He really is a sweetheart,” she said. “Just a tad bit of indigestion this morning, I think.”
[[Ask about your papers]]
[[Am I safe here]]
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>[[Ask about working for her]]<</if>>
I reached out, grabbing a buttery roll and a few pieces of strange fruit. Tentatively, I took a bite, surprised at how juicy and sweet it all tasted. I wasted no more time after that and began digging in, filling the empty cavern that was my stomach.
Across from me, Hazel sat, letting us lapse into a soft silence as I filled my stomach enough to chase away the light-headed sway that sat on my shoulders. After a few bites, in which my stomach protested some, it gave into the need for food. I figured it was best to stick with fruit and bread for the time being, however.
“About those papers…” I began. I didn’t know how to approach the subject without sounding demanding.
“Almost have it all sorted out,” Hazel said, pouring herself some tea. “It’s going to take another day or so, but we have all the preliminary works in the process. It’s probably a good thing you laid low these last few days. Gave me time to get a few things in order.”
“Is there anything you need from me for it?” I still didn’t understand the process of it. Or what these papers were supposed to consist of.
“Not really. It’s all a weird formality thing. Other than when they need to fill the pens, the guard really doesn’t care about them. Unless you have an overzealous guard, that is. At this point, I think they’re more looking for the people who have slipped through the gates unannounced.”
I nodded. I had gotten a similar vibe with the Warden. “Have you housed people like me before?”
“Plenty,” she said. “Although not all of them had their memory wiped. Lately, however, those are the ones I’ve been focusing on. The ones that have had no choice in what was happening to them. I used to try and get people out who were penned up and set on bail for petty little things, but honestly, this is the Night Market. Most people here are petty.” There was no bitterness behind her voice. Just an acceptance from a woman who had lived here for a long time. “So now, when it’s a big bail block day, we try to suss out who might be there without knowledge of how. It’s a problem and one I keep trying to tell the Velvet Guards we need to address but…” she ticked her eyes downwards, picking at her patched skirts. “Well, no matter. It is what it is. I’m just glad you’re here now.”
[[How did you get the shop to begin with?]]
[[Do you really have no help?]]
[[Where is Milo this morning?]]I reached out, grabbing a buttery roll and a few pieces of strange fruit. Tentatively, I took a bite, surprised at how juicy and sweet it all tasted. I wasted no more time after that and began digging in, filling the empty cavern that was my stomach.
Across from me, Hazel sat, letting us lapse into a soft silence as I filled my stomach enough to chase away the light-headed sway that sat on my shoulders. After a few bites, in which my stomach protested some, it gave into the need for food. I figured it was best to stick with fruit and bread for the time being, however.
“About working for you,” I began. “Is there anything particular you need me to do?”
She observed me through thick lashes as she poured herself some tea. “Well, I guess the first question is, do you want to work for me? If your answer is yes, I’ll pay you a living wage, I’ll keep a roof over your head, food, what not. If your answer is no, I’ll still do all those things, except maybe be able to pay you some actual bits.”
[[No, I didn't want to work for her]]
[[Yes, I would work for her]]I reached out, grabbing a buttery roll and a few pieces of strange fruit. Tentatively, I took a bite, surprised at how juicy and sweet it all tasted. I wasted no more time after that and began digging in, filling the empty cavern that was my stomach.
I paused, a spoonful of marmalade poised above my plate. “Are the Velvet Guard looking for me?”
“I doubt it. Unless you really are priority number one, which makes you far more than a simple rescue.” She seemed to pause at that. “Are you more than a simple rescue?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Right. I’m thinking whatever gate you stumbled through memory wiped you. I’ve seen it happen before.” She tapped at her own head. “You aren’t the first, and you sadly won’t be the last. I just can’t figure out why it is happening.”
“Have you housed people like me before?”
“Plenty. Although not all of them had their memory wiped. Lately, however, those are the ones I’ve been focusing on more. The ones that had literally no choice in what was happening to them. I used to try and get people out who were penned up and set on bail for petty little things but honestly, this is the Night Market. Most people here are petty.” There was no bitterness behind her voice. Just an acceptance of a woman who had lived here for a long time. “So now, when it’s a big bail block day, we try to suss out who might be there without knowledge of how. It’s a problem and one I keep trying to tell the Velvet Guards we need to address but…” she ticked her eyes downwards, picking at her patched skirts. “Well, no matter. I’m just glad you’re here.”
[[How did you get the shop to begin with?]]
[[Do you really have no help?]]
[[Where is Milo this morning?]]While the woman was nice enough, I didn’t know how much I trusted her yet. Working for her felt an awful lot like the indentured servitude that they were trying to sell off at the auction block. Besides, my focus needed to be on finding out who I was and getting home.
“I think my priority needs to be finding my gate,” I told her.
She didn’t look hurt or offended. Her face was neutral at my decision. Mr. Billow’s let out a low growl beneath the table, though. Reaching downwards, Hazel scratched under his chin. “Oh, hush, Mr. Billow’s. It’s fine.”
Turning her gaze back up to me, she gave me a soft and understanding smile. “Please know that this does not mean you do not have my help. My goal is to make sure you uncover the reason you are here. None of that is dependent on whether you pick up a broom in this shop. The only thing is, you may have to kind of pretend that you are working for me time to time. Because someone is going to wonder eventually how you struck bail."
I nodded. I had a suspicion Milo would not agree with her sentiment. For the moment, I didn’t know if I cared. I was not here to help out the local shopkeeper.
"That's fine," I told her. As long as I was not forced into whatever it is she did here. Agreeing to work for her so readily felt like trading what little freedom I had.
[[Next|Where is Milo this morning?]]
<<set $workforhazel to "true">>“Working for you is the least I can do to repay you for everything you are doing.” The woman was providing everything for me. Without her, I doubted I’d even be sitting down for breakfast after having slept for two days. I would most likely be in service to someone far less kind or a broken body at the bottom of a pit.
“You really don’t have to,” she said. “I can handle the shop.” I raised a brow at that. The blush that spread across her cheeks flushed down to the curve of her shoulder. “Alright,” she said humbly. “I’ll rephrase. I can handle the orders. The cleaning, well, I’ve never been very good at that.”
[[(flirt) I can’t imagine you being bad at anything]]
[[I'd be more than happy to help you clean]]
[[I can't garuntee I'm good a cleaning either]]
I looked down, feeling the heat in my own cheeks as I cleared my throat. “I can’t really imagine you being bad at anything.”
Her eyes widened, two round gold flecked eyes looking at me in shock, staring at me over an expanse of freckled cheeks and pouty lips. She blinked once. Then twice. The blush darkening to a deep rose.
“Oh,” she squeaked. “Thank you.” Remembering she had poured herself a cup of tea she reached out, taking it and nearly knocking it to the side. “This store is a little more than one person can handle at times.”
[[How did you get the shop to begin with?]]
[[Do you really have no help?]]
[[Where is Milo this morning?]]“I can clean,” I assured her. “It’s probably best I stay away from your orders anyway. I wouldn’t know the first thing about them. But I can sweep and mop and wash… containers?” I looked around. I didn’t know the first thing about what was happening here.
Hazel, however, didn’t look as if she minded. The relief I saw spread across her face over the sheer offer of anyone helping carry some of the day-to-day tasks was almost instantaneous.
“I’d really appreciate it,” she said softly. “This store is a little more than one person can handle at times.”
[[How did you get the shop to begin with?]]
[[Do you really have no help?]]
[[Where is Milo this morning?]]I felt relief starting to fill me as I began to feel safe for the first time today. “I can’t guarantee I’m good at cleaning, but I follow directions well. At least I think I do.”
Laughter wrinkled Hazel’s nose. “That’s okay. This store is a little more than one person can handle.” The evidence to that was all over the room. In the piles of dust that hopped from one dark corner to the next. The cauldrons that were packed with herbs. And the floors that had burn marks and scuffs. “Mr. Billows can only help so much,” she joked.
The cat purred in response.
[[How did you get the shop to begin with?]]
[[Do you really have no help?]]
[[Where is Milo this morning?]]
Looking around, I realized the store was bigger than what I thought it would be, given the quaint cottage that I had approached only days before. The main shop was sprawling, filled to the brim with shelves stocked with herbs and tonics. I could see several bubbling cauldrons with self spinning wooden ladles, hidden towards the back. The rafters above were dripping with herbs that looked as if they were plucked from her very own garden, leaving the room smelling earthy and fresh over the candle wax. While I didn’t know the kinds of orders Hazel took on a daily, it was clear that she made her living through hard work.
And Hazel struck me as a woman who would never expect help from anyone. Even when she deserved it.
“How did you get the store to begin with?” I asked curiously.
She sipped at her tea, curling her feet beneath her, I could see Mr. Billow’s eyeing her through a gold slit. Reaching down she absently scratched his head to appease the look.
“It was my mother's, actually. I grew up here. I’m not sure how she acquired it. She always told me it belonged to the family. Something about our responsibility. I’ve never really asked much further of it because I always hoped to have it.” Looking around, her eyes flitted to the corners of the rafters, as if looking for something. “I used to play up there as a little girl,” she said. I tilted my head back, viewing the thick sets of beams. How a child even got up there was beyond me, let alone why a mother would let them play up so high.
“I’d watch her nearly all day, brewing her potions, maintaining her herbs. It always looked like such satisfying work, you know? And she was helping people. Albeit, the way she helped people was a little different from the way I go about it, but there was fulfillment there.”
[[What happened to her?]]
[[Do you really have no help?]]
[[Where is Milo this morning?]]“Do you really run this place without any help?”
“I have help,” she said. “It’s just not steady. Some of the people that pass through here help while they can. I used to have a few people who worked for me more regularly but, well, working for me doesn’t seem to be long-lasting.” She shrugged at that, grabbing at a scone and picking it apart. “Milo helps when he can. If he sees me struggling, he drops everything. But I don’t like relying on him like that. He’s got his own life. Besides, being here sometimes makes him uncomfortable. “
“Why?”
“Old memories,” she said. “I’ve known Milo since we were young. Since before my mother died. There’s a lot of history between us.” Leaning forward, she refreshed my tea. “Please, drink a little more. You’re probably dehydrated.”
I did as she asked, feeling pleasantly warm as I sipped at my tea. “I’ll help you,” I assured her. “For as long as I can.”
“I really do appreciate that, $name. More than you’ll ever know.”
We ate for a few more minutes, Mr. Billow’s side eyeing me under the table. Though, I was starting to wonder if that was just the way the cat looked.
“Where is Milo this morning?” I asked. He had been a presence that had filled the shop last night, but there was no trace of him this morning. It felt odd since he was one of the few faces within the market that I now knew.
“Out doing Milo things,” she said. “Who knows with that man. I love him to death, but boy does he get his hands in a bit of everything out there. I have to patch him up almost constantly.”
“So you’re a doctor too?”
“No. Just a herbalist.” With the way the cauldrons stirred on their own accord and the way the brooms had danced, I doubted she was a simple herbalist.
“I really don’t remember if I’ve thanked you for all this but if I haven’t, thank you. You really didn’t have to go out of your way.”
“Well of course I didn’t, silly, but I want to because it is the right thing to do. You poor thing, you must have been so scared. Not knowing where you were or who you are. I can’t even imagine.”
[[I was scared|Chapter Two scared]]
[[It wasn't too bad]]
[[I was more angry than anything else]]We ate for a few more minutes, Mr. Billow’s side eyeing me under the table. Though, I was starting to wonder if that was just the way the cat looked.
“Where is Milo this morning?” I asked. He had been a presence that had filled the shop last night, but there was no trace of him this morning. It felt odd since he was one of the few faces within the market that I now knew.
“Out doing Milo things,” she said. “Who knows with that man. I love him to death, but boy does he get his hands in a bit of everything out there. I have to patch him up almost constantly.”
“So you’re a doctor too?”
“No. Just a herbalist.” With the way the cauldrons stirred on their own accord and the way the brooms had danced, I doubted she was a simple herbalist.
“I really don’t remember if I’ve thanked you for all this but if I haven’t, thank you. You really didn’t have to go out of your way.”
“Well of course I didn’t, silly, but I want to because it is the right thing to do. You poor thing, you must have been so scared. Not knowing where you were or who you are. I can’t even imagine.”
[[I was scared|Chapter Two scared]]
[[It wasn't too bad]]
[[I was more angry than anything else]]I saw no sign of another woman around, nor did it seem like she had help from someone who had once run the business. “What happened to her?”
Hazel’s face remained neutral. “She passed away when I was a teenager,” she said, offering nothing more. “I took over the shop afterward because my brother and I needed a place to live. It was never really a question to me whether I would keep it.”
I fiddled with the linen tablecloth. The edges were frayed and scratched, assumedly from Mr. Billows. “I’m sorry.”
“It happened a long time ago,” she said. It’s alright.”
We ate for a few more minutes, Mr. Billow’s side eyeing me under the table. Though, I was starting to wonder if that was just the way the cat looked.
“Where is Milo this morning?” I asked. He had been a presence that had filled the shop last night, but there was no trace of him this morning. It felt odd since he was one of the few faces within the market that I now knew.
“Out doing Milo things,” she said. “Who knows with that man. I love him to death, but boy does he get his hands in a bit of everything out there. I have to patch him up almost constantly.”
“So you’re a doctor too?”
“No. Just a herbalist.” With the way the cauldrons stirred on their own accord and the way the brooms had danced, I doubted she was a simple herbalist.
“I really don’t remember if I’ve thanked you for all this but if I haven’t, thank you. You really didn’t have to go out of your way.”
“Well of course I didn’t, silly, but I want to because it is the right thing to do. You poor thing, you must have been so scared. Not knowing where you were or who you are. I can’t even imagine.”
[[I was scared|Chapter Two scared]]
[[It wasn't too bad]]
[[I was more angry than anything else]]The silence of the cell still lingered against my back, but in a way that felt more tiring than anything else. My first official day here felt like a strange dream. One that happened long ago, despite being only on the other side of my two-day sleep.
“It wasn’t so bad,” I started. “I know that sounds strange, but I feel okay now. It’s new, and it’s still strange, but I don’t feel scared or angry.”
“Numb?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think so. It’s almost as if it happened to someone else. Like the entire situation is one big story that someone else told me over dinner.” I placed my head in my hands, pressing my fingers into the corners of my eyes. “Does that sound crazy?”
Hazel reached out, placing her hand on my arm. “No. Not at all. I think it sounds like a person that has been through a lot and still needs some time to process. I would like to help with that.” I felt something like hope linger around the edges of my mind. The cell had breathed down my neck. But Hazel’s home felt as if it were wrapping me in a soft blanket. “You’re out now,” she continued. “We now have to begin the process of finding a way for you to get back home.”
I nodded, feeling a bit of hope ease towards me. “Has any of the people you’ve helped ever made it home?”
She paused at that. Something long and uncomfortable that had the bread I had been happily munching on settle like a rock in my stomach.
“Unfortunately, we don’t really know where these gates are. The Night Market has this way of making you forget the things that used to be important. The things that existed outside of here. Some of the people I’ve helped decide to leave the market in hopes that distance from this place would jog their memories. I never see them again, so I don’t really know if that’s true. Other’s find homes within the market proper. I help them with that if it is their choice. But that’s the thing,” she said, reaching out to lay her hand gently against my own. “It’s a choice. No one is going to force you into doing something you don’t want here. I need to make that entirely clear. Once you have the papers, if you want to start a life here, you can."
[[I want to leave here]]
[[I don't know what the future will bring]]
[[Living here might not be bad if I can't get my memories back]]The silence of the cell still lingered against my back, but in a way that felt more tiring than anything else. The day all felt like a strange dream. One that happened long ago, despite being only on the other side of my two-day sleep binge.
“I’m more angry than anything else,” I told her. “What I saw while I was down there. The things that your people do?” I shook my head. “It’s not right. Even now, I can feel my blood boil over the entire situation.”
She nodded her head. “I understand.”
“But are you a part of it?”
“Of course not,” she soothed. “I’m actively working against what they do down at the docks. I don’t agree with it either.”
“But you don’t seem angry,” I told her. She had the same calm around her that she had had the entire time we talked.
“I’ve lived here all my life,” she explained sadly. “My anger shows differently than yours.” Her words were genuine. Out of everyone I had met so far, Hazel seemed the least likely to lie. “You’re out now,” she continued. “We now just have to begin the process of finding a way for you to get back home.”
I nodded, feeling a bit of hope ease towards me. “Has any of the people you’ve helped ever made it home?”
She paused at that. Something long and uncomfortable that had the bread I had been happily munching on settle like a rock in my stomach.
“Unfortunately, we don’t really know where these gates are. The Night Market has this way of making you forget the things that used to be important. The things that existed outside of here. Some of the people I’ve helped decide to leave the market in hopes that distance from this place would jog their memories. I never see them again, so I don’t really know if that’s true. Other’s find homes within the market proper. I help them with that if it is their choice. But that’s the thing,” she said, reaching out to lay her hand gently against my own. “It’s a choice. No one is going to force you into doing something you don’t want here. I need to make that entirely clear. Once you have the papers, if you want to start a life here, you can."
[[I want to leave here]]
[[I don't know what the future will bring]]
[[Living here might not be bad if I can't get my memories back]]I shivered. The cold feeling of the cell still settled in my bones. The way the silence lingered against my skin, the way it had breathed down my neck; I was unsure if it was ever a feeling that would leave me.
“That was the most scared I could ever remember being.” My own words stopped me, clogging my throat as something vile. “But then again, I can’t remember anything, so I’m not sure that sentiment is true. I just…” I trailed off, feeling my chest constrict once more.
“You were thrust blindly into a situation you didn’t understand,” Hazel said softly. “Anyone would be scared in that situation.”
I felt my panic ease at that, her kind words wrapping around me in the hopes of soothing the lingering fear.
“You’re out now,” she said. “We now just have to begin the process of finding a way for you to get back home.”
I nodded, feeling a bit of hope ease towards me. “Has any of the people you’ve helped ever made it home?”
She paused at that. Something long and uncomfortable that had the bread I had been happily munching on settle like a rock in my stomach.
“Unfortunately, we don’t really know where these gates are. The Night Market has this way of making you forget the things that used to be important. The things that existed outside of here. Some of the people I’ve helped decide to leave the market in hopes that distance from this place would jog their memories. I never see them again, so I don’t really know if that’s true. Other’s find homes within the market proper. I help them with that if it is their choice. But that’s the thing,” she said, reaching out to lay her hand gently against my own. “It’s a choice. No one is going to force you into doing something you don’t want here. I need to make that entirely clear. Once you have the papers, if you want to start a life here, you can."
[[I want to leave here]]
[[I don't know what the future will bring]]
[[Living here might not be bad if I can't get my memories back]]“And if I want to leave?” I asked. Would the help that was promised be taken from me if I actively tried to find my way home? If I stepped through a gate?
“It’s a bit more complicated,” she tried to ease. “But I do have ways of getting you out of this world. Not many, and they are closing more and more by the day.”
“Milo was saying something about Barons and invitations?”
“Contacting the Barons could be an option but they have never been known to help,” she explained. “Nine of them isn’t enough to make real change within the market and sometimes I doubt the nine we do have are even working together.”
Back to nothing again, then. I didn’t know what gate I had come through or why and the woman in front of me was struggling to give me answers when she was working with so little.
Seeing my discouragement, she stood. “Enough of this. You are still recovering. There will be plenty of time to talk strategy later. What is it you would like to do today?” Her heart shaped face looked at me with soft determination.
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>“I know you say you’re not concerned about repayment, but I feel like I need to at least pay you for the papers. Sooner rather than later.”
She waved a hand at me. “We can address that later.”
“I was under the impression that this was a requirement.” Milo, in fact, had made that incredibly clear.
“Well, you were impressed wrong,” she said with a small grin. “I have no interest in your money. I do have all the interest in your cleaning abilities. But that can’t possibly be how you want to spend your day.”
“How can you afford to support me though?” I had yet to see a customer even come into the shop.
“Oh,” she said sweetly. “I have my ways.”
“I feel odd not helping you out more. I doubt that I’ll ever be able to repay you for what you are doing, but I don’t want to just sit around here for free.”
“Well, then when you are ready, I can show you the basics of the shop. You’ll get a stipend every week that you can choose to spend on whatever you want. It won’t be much, I’m afraid.” I didn’t care. The roof over my head and the food she provided was probably more than offsetting what she didn’t pay me. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>”The Warden just kind of thrust me at you,” I said. “I know that I am working off a debt to him but… no one has really asked about your part in that.”
“My part?”
“Do you do things like this for the Warden often?” How much of the flesh pits did this woman condone? Was she just another pawn in the Warden’s pocket?
“No,” she said. “I’ve actually never done something like this for the Warden. I do this for others which I now have confirmation that the Warden knows about. I am hoping that by him sending you here, he is condoning the work that I do.”
“Why do you care about what a man like that thinks?”
She frowned a little, tipping her head to the side. “I– well, I’m not sure I do? It’s just nice to have the law on your side as opposed to always working against it.”
“You realize he was going to sell me for parts, right?” I could feel that indescribable emotion bubbling up again. The kind that came with the smell of rot. A strange and sickly perfume that was sticking to my skin.
“I- I didn’t really think about…” she trailed off. “I’m sorry.”
The girl was fading before my eyes. Sinking in on herself like she was terrified of the wrong kind of answer. I sighed, wondering why I was badgering this woman that had only shown me kindness so far. “No. You don’t need to apologize. I– I’m still just trying to adjust.”
“No, I understand,” she said quickly. “Let’s just– let’s change the subject?”
Reluctantly, I agreed.<</if>>
“Now, with you still having no papers we will have to find something around here to entertain ourselves. I don’t want to send you out into the market just yet.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do you bake? Wait. You probably don’t know. Does that sound fun to you? Actually, what does sound appealing. Maybe we should start there.”
I was staring at the spread that was still before us. Despite eating, I had barely made a dent. “How did you do it with the others?” I asked, ignoring her attempts at distracting me. “The gates. How did you find their particular one?”
She shuffled her feet and for a moment I thought we were to enter a game of cat and mouse. One where I ignored her for favor of questions and she ignored me for favor of distraction. She sighed though, her gaze ticking towards the front door of the shop. “I didn’t. But,” she said quickly. “I’m working on a few theories. I think I may be able to come up with a tonic or two. If we can just jog your memories, just enough, there is perhaps a possibility that we can glean something of your homeland.”
[[Next|Ask about the gates]]“I don’t know what I want to do,” I said. The lack of memories left the future uncertain. I didn’t want to give up on my home, but it felt open-ended. Like a cliff that I was about to careen messily down. “Milo was saying something about Barons and invitations?”
“Contacting the Barons could be an option but they have never been known to help,” she explained. “Nine of them isn’t enough to make real change within the market and sometimes I doubt the nine we do have are even working together.”
Back to nothing again, then. I didn’t know what gate I had come through or why and the woman in front of me was struggling to give me answers when she was working with so little.
Seeing my discouragement, she stood. “Enough of this. You are still recovering. There will be plenty of time to talk strategy later. What is it you would like to do today?” Her heart shaped face looked at me with soft determination.
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>“I know you say you’re not concerned about repayment, but I feel like I need to at least pay you for the papers. Sooner rather than later.”
She waved a hand at me. “We can address that later.”
“I was under the impression that this was a requirement.” Milo, in fact, had made that incredibly clear.
“Well, you were impressed wrong,” she said with a small grin. “I have no interest in your money. I do have all the interest in your cleaning abilities. But that can’t possibly be how you want to spend your day.”
“How can you afford to support me though?” I had yet to see a customer even come into the shop.
“Oh,” she said sweetly. “I have my ways.”
“I feel odd not helping you out more. I doubt that I’ll ever be able to repay you for what you are doing, but I don’t want to just sit around here for free.”
“Well, then when you are ready, I can show you the basics of the shop. You’ll get a stipend every week that you can choose to spend on whatever you want. It won’t be much, I’m afraid.” I didn’t care. The roof over my head and the food she provided was probably more than offsetting what she didn’t pay me. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>”The Warden just kind of thrust me at you,” I said. “I know that I am working off a debt to him but… no one has really asked about your part in that.”
“My part?”
“Do you do things like this for the Warden often?” How much of the flesh pits did this woman condone? Was she just another pawn in the Warden’s pocket?
“No,” she said. “I’ve actually never done something like this for the Warden. I do this for others which I now have confirmation that the Warden knows about. I am hoping that by him sending you here, he is condoning the work that I do.”
“Why do you care about what a man like that thinks?”
She frowned a little, tipping her head to the side. “I– well, I’m not sure I do? It’s just nice to have the law on your side as opposed to always working against it.”
“You realize he was going to sell me for parts, right?” I could feel that indescribable emotion bubbling up again. The kind that came with the smell of rot. A strange and sickly perfume that was sticking to my skin.
“I- I didn’t really think about…” she trailed off. “I’m sorry.”
The girl was fading before my eyes. Sinking in on herself like she was terrified of the wrong kind of answer. I sighed, wondering why I was badgering this woman that had only shown me kindness so far. “No. You don’t need to apologize. I– I’m still just trying to adjust.”
“No, I understand,” she said quickly. “Let’s just– let’s change the subject?”
Reluctantly, I agreed.<</if>>
“Now, with you still having no papers we will have to find something around here to entertain ourselves. I don’t want to send you out into the market just yet.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do you bake? Wait. You probably don’t know. Does that sound fun to you? Actually, what does sound appealing. Maybe we should start there.”
I was staring at the spread that was still before us. Despite eating, I had barely made a dent. “How did you do it with the others?” I asked, ignoring her attempts at distracting me. “The gates. How did you find their particular one?”
She shuffled her feet and for a moment I thought we were to enter a game of cat and mouse. One where I ignored her for favor of questions and she ignored me for favor of distraction. She sighed though, her gaze ticking towards the front door of the shop. “I didn’t. But,” she said quickly. “I’m working on a few theories. I think I may be able to come up with a tonic or two. If we can just jog your memories, just enough, there is perhaps a possibility that we can glean something of your homeland.”
[[Next|Ask about the gates]]I looked around. The world was an enigma. My beginnings here not ideal. But the lights, the walk through the Spice District, the way the streets felt like home. I didn’t want to give up on my old life. I wanted my memories. But if I couldn’t, maybe I could start a life here.
“I think it all depends on my memories. What kind of life I have. What kind of life I //had//.”
“There are a lot of unanswered questions,” Hazel said softly. “And this is only day one. Let’s give it a bit more time.”
“I just don’t know how to even start,” I confessed. “My only memories are just odd little impressions. I can’t grasp them fully.” My head felt too full, as if the thoughts were pounding at the back of my mind.
“Give it time,” Hazel urged. “You are still recovering. Let’s focus on something else. What is it you would like to do today?” Her heart shaped face was full of determination.
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>“I know you say you’re not concerned about repayment, but I feel like I need to at least pay you for the papers. Sooner rather than later.”
She waved a hand at me. “We can address that later.”
“I was under the impression that this was a requirement.” Milo, in fact, had made that incredibly clear.
“Well, you were impressed wrong,” she said with a small grin. “I have no interest in your money. I do have all the interest in your cleaning abilities. But that can’t possibly be how you want to spend your day.”
“How can you afford to support me though?” I had yet to see a customer even come into the shop.
“Oh,” she said sweetly. “I have my ways.”
“I feel odd not helping you out more. I doubt that I’ll ever be able to repay you for what you are doing, but I don’t want to just sit around here for free.”
“Well, then when you are ready, I can show you the basics of the shop. You’ll get a stipend every week that you can choose to spend on whatever you want. It won’t be much, I’m afraid.” I didn’t care. The roof over my head and the food she provided was probably more than offsetting what she didn’t pay me. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>”The Warden just kind of thrust me at you,” I said. “I know that I am working off a debt to him but… no one has really asked about your part in that.”
“My part?”
“Do you do things like this for the Warden often?” How much of the flesh pits did this woman condone? Was she just another pawn in the Warden’s pocket?
“No,” she said. “I’ve actually never done something like this for the Warden. I do this for others which I now have confirmation that the Warden knows about. I am hoping that by him sending you here, he is condoning the work that I do.”
“Why do you care about what a man like that thinks?”
She frowned a little, tipping her head to the side. “I– well, I’m not sure I do? It’s just nice to have the law on your side as opposed to always working against it.”
“You realize he was going to sell me for parts, right?” I could feel that indescribable emotion bubbling up again. The kind that came with the smell of rot. A strange and sickly perfume that was sticking to my skin.
“I- I didn’t really think about…” she trailed off. “I’m sorry.”
The girl was fading before my eyes. Sinking in on herself like she was terrified of the wrong kind of answer. I sighed, wondering why I was badgering this woman that had only shown me kindness so far. “No. You don’t need to apologize. I– I’m still just trying to adjust.”
“No, I understand,” she said quickly. “Let’s just– let’s change the subject?”
Reluctantly, I agreed.<</if>>
“Now, with you still having no papers we will have to find something around here to entertain ourselves. I don’t want to send you out into the market just yet.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do you bake? Wait. You probably don’t know. Does that sound fun to you? Actually, what does sound appealing. Maybe we should start there.”
I was staring at the spread that was still before us. Despite eating, I had barely made a dent. “How did you do it with the others?” I asked, ignoring her attempts at distracting me. “The gates. How did you find their particular one?”
She shuffled her feet and for a moment I thought we were to enter a game of cat and mouse. One where I ignored her for favor of questions and she ignored me for favor of distraction. She sighed though, her gaze ticking towards the front door of the shop. “I didn’t. But,” she said quickly. “I’m working on a few theories. I think I may be able to come up with a tonic or two. If we can just jog your memories, just enough, there is perhaps a possibility that we can glean something of your homeland.”
[[Next|Ask about the gates]]
“How many gates are there?”
“In the Night Market?” Hazel pushed her tea aside, scooting her chair back for Mr. Billows to hop up. She scratched under the cat's chin and for the first time, I saw the golden eyes close and the cat look genuinely happy for a moment. “And that I know of?”
“Yes,” my voice was a bit more hesitant this time.
“I know of about thirty-two. But in the Night Market itself…? Infinite?”
I spit out my tea. “What?” Infinite. Infinite gates. I came through one somewhere in an alley that I couldn’t even find and now had to find it in a sea of infinite possibilities.
“You have to understand,” Hazel tried. “No one knows the full scope of the market. New districts are popping up all the time to accommodate those who come in. Some of the people that enter here are seeking refuge from dying worlds. Others are running from a past. Some are just curious shoppers. But with each person that has entered the market, something forms to their liking and a gate to their world is opened. If there is a pre-existing gate, that is the one that is used. But if there is not, then the world has to stretch and make another one.”
My head was beginning to spin. The world around was malleable. One in which molded to accommodate what was needed. It was such a foreign concept and one that didn’t fit well the longer I tried to focus on it.
“And the gates are secret?” In the small time I had been wandering the market I thought I had seen one but it could have just been my tired mind.
“They are,” she confirmed. “We have no real answer as to why that is. Milo has theories. So do I. But, the reality is unless you have a key to a gate itself, you can’t see them. I have a few keys, ones I’ve picked up over the years, but… I’m sorry. I really want to be of more help. If you want, we can go to every gate that I have a key to and see if it strikes a cord with you. Maybe we’ll get really lucky and you just so happen to come from one of the worlds I already know about.”
She didn’t look hopeful at such luck, but was still willing to try. Disappointment hung heavy on my face and, in return, her own.
[[Accept comfort from Hazel]]
[[Get up and take a minute]]
[[Try to process what is happening]]Getting up from her seat, Hazel scooted to the pillow next to mine. Hesitantly, she reached out, brushing her fingers across my brow. She said nothing. Only offered slight comfort. It felt foreign at this point in time, but she smelled like cinnamon sticks and basil, the faint scent of ceder smoke lingering on her clothes. She was so close, it would have been far too easy to tip my head to rest on her shoulder.
A throat cleared behind us. It was subtle, but caused both of us to jump. Hazel stood immediately, wiping her hands on her apron as she made to go attend her customer. I only stared at the man with wide eyes.
Dark skin and piercing gray eyes stood before me. The uniform I had seen him in was dressed down, but still in the deep shades of blue and silver that had adorned him to begin with. Hair still slicked back and lips thinned into a line of irritation, the Warden stared back at me.
<<if $route == "nofleshpit">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel enters]]
<<elseif $run == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel enters]]
<<elseif $fleshpits == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabe enters fleshpits]]<</if>>Getting up from my seat, I stepped away from the table for a moment. How had everything gotten so complicated so quickly? The entire concept of the Night Market kept getting stranger and stranger. I only wished I knew how I had gotten here and why.
A throat cleared behind us. It was subtle, but caused both of us to jump. Hazel stood immediately, wiping her hands on her apron as she made to go attend her customer. I only stared at the man with wide eyes.
Dark skin and piercing gray eyes stood before me. The uniform I had seen him in was dressed down, but still in the deep shades of blue and silver that had adorned him to begin with. Hair still slicked back and lips thinned into a line of irritation, the Warden stared back at me.
<<if $route == "nofleshpit">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel enters]]
<<elseif $run == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel enters]]
<<elseif $fleshpits == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabe enters fleshpits]]<</if>>My throat felt tight. The air around me felt thick and cloying. I couldn’t even tell how far into the day we were or how much time had passed since I had arrived in the market. I wished my thoughts had been jumbled so I had something to latch onto but in the end, my thoughts were empty. They flowed from me like water, leaving me to feel numb.
A throat cleared behind us. It was subtle, but caused both of us to jump. Hazel stood immediately, wiping her hands on her apron as she made to go attend her customer. I only stared at the man with wide eyes.
Dark skin and piercing gray eyes stood before me. The uniform I had seen him in was dressed down, but still in the deep shades of blue and silver that had adorned him to begin with. Hair still slicked back and lips thinned into a line of irritation, the Warden stared back at me.
<<if $route == "nofleshpit">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel enters]]
<<elseif $run == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel enters]]
<<elseif $fleshpits == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabe enters fleshpits]]<</if>>“Afternoon, Warden,” Hazel said, greeting him with a smile. His eyes were locked on me for a moment longer before turning to her. “Are you here for your tonic?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, hands remaining stiff at his side. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t even dare talk.
“I just finished brewing a new batch this morning, so it’s nice and fresh.” If Hazel was aware of the tension in the room, she didn’t let it show. “I just need to cork it. You’re cutting it a little close, aren’t you? I thought I’d get an order from you sooner.”
“Yes. Well. Work has been busy.”
His words curled around me, feeling like the cold trickle of water within the cell. My body was tensed, ready to run if necessary. I would in no way be returning to those cells above the docks.
“I’ll just be a moment,” Hazel said with a smile. There was a small room behind the counter, blocked off from the public by a beaded curtain of bone and linen. As the curtain settled, the Warden and I were left alone in a room together once more.
The low whir of a bubbling pot sounded somewhere within the shop, although I was unsure exactly where, and the gentle tap of an insistent tree scraped hesitantly on the rooftop above. The cold eyes belonging to the man who had escorted me to my cell, leveled against me evenly. My gaze shifted uncomfortably away, but he did not break. It caused my stomach to flip and my body to ready itself to run.
“Did you ever get those papers?” His tone was soft, just beneath the sound of a hush, despite there being no one but Mr. Billows around. He didn’t ask me if Hazel bought out my bail. <<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">> He was the Warden of the Night Market. He knew that I never made it to the bail block. He had probably seen the broken lock on my cage.
When I took a step back, I watched him reach for his sword. "So much for being off duty," I said.
"You had to have known there is nowhere in the market I would not find you."<<elseif $beginningroute == "hazel">> I had a feeling that she was nowhere on the ledgers. Mr. Timbers would be. But not her. <<elseif $beginningroute == "soloescape">> He was the Warden of the Night Market. He knew that I never made it to the bail block. He had probably seen the broken lock on my cage.
When I took a step back, I watched him reach for his sword. "So much for being off duty," I said.
"You had to have known there is nowhere in the market I would not find you." <<elseif $run == "true">>"I figured since you were the one that sent me here, you would have them," I said. "I upheld my part of this charade." Either Hazel or him were the ones responsible for these so called papers that were so important. My job was to just keep my head down and work off this stupid debt.
"I am not sure I made the right decision about letting you go, if we are being entirely honest." I looked at the man, my fists clenched at my side.<</if>>
<<if $beginningroute == "hazel">>[[Be honest with him]]
[[Don't answer him]]
[[Lie and say you have them]]
<<elseif $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">> [[I'm not going back with you]]
[[I did nothing wrong]]
[[I'm working off my debt. Isn't that what you wanted?]] <<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>[[Be honest with him]]
[[Don't answer him]]
[[Lie and say you have them]]<<elseif $beginningroute == "solostab">>[[Be honest with him]]
[[Don't answer him]]
[[Lie and say you have them]]
<<elseif $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>[[I'm not going back with you]]
[[I did nothing wrong]]
[[I'm working off my debt. Isn't that what you wanted?]]<</if>>Lifting my chin, I made sure to keep my distance from him, but did not cower in fear. “They are on their way.”
He nodded, giving me the impression that he had already known the answer to that. “I would get them sooner rather than later,” he intoned. “I have given my men express orders to keep a look-out for individuals who have entered the market on false pretenses.”
“So, are you here to take me back to the cells?” I asked. His words didn’t sound threatening but the man himself was not one to have much inflection in his tone it seemed.
“I’m off duty today,” he said. “Seeing as I already had to come pick up an order from Ms. Albright, I thought I would check up on you. See how you are… acclimating.”
He had know where I was the entire time. I wondered if we had pulled anything over on him to begin with or if he had simply let me go. “You don’t look like a man who is off duty,” I commented. The silver buckles on his coat shined in the dim light of the apothecary, adding to the rigidity that the man held himself to.
He hummed in response, not really giving my comment more than a cursory thought. “You have done well to find Ms. Albright,” he said. “She is one of the rare few that comes by her product honestly.” I thought back to the budget brooms that harassed her when I had first arrived. “I would like to do a follow up with you,” he said. “Inquire a bit further about how you found yourself within the Night Market. Not today of course. But soon.”
[[I already told you everything I know. What more do you want?]]
[[I have nothing to say to you]]
[[Why is the Warden so concerned with me?]]I swallowed, instinctively looking for Hazel. She had told me I was safe here. But what could a shopkeep do against the Warden of the Night Market.
“Relax,” he intoned when I didn’t answer him. “I’m off duty today.”
He didn’t look like it. His clothes, in fact, did not scream of a man relaxing or running his weekly errands. He still looked straight laced and severe, holding himself in a rigidity that looked absolutely uncomfortable.
“Seeing as I already had to come pick up an order from Ms. Albright, I thought I would check up on you. See how you are… acclimating.”
He had know where I was the entire time. I wondered if we had pulled anything over on him to begin with or if he had simply let me go. “You don’t look like a man who is off duty,” I commented. The silver buckles on his coat shined in the dim light of the apothecary, adding to the rigidity that the man held himself to.
He hummed in response, not really giving my comment more than a cursory thought. “You have done well to find Ms. Albright,” he said. “She is one of the rare few that comes by her product honestly.” I thought back to the budget brooms that harassed her when I had first arrived. “I would like to do a follow up with you,” he said. “Inquire a bit further about how you found yourself within the Night Market. Not today of course. But soon.”
[[I already told you everything I know. What more do you want?]]
[[I have nothing to say to you]]
[[Why is the Warden so concerned with me?]]I swallowed, instinctively looking for Hazel. “I obtained them yesterday,” I said, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.
“Really?” His face remained apathetic. “May I see them?”
My hands clenched at my sides. If I was going to keep up this ruse I probably needed to learn how to back up my lies.
“Relax,” he intoned. “I’m off duty today.”
He didn’t look like it. His clothes, in fact, did not scream of a man relaxing or running his weekly errands. He still looked straight laced and severe, holding himself in a rigidity that looked absolutely uncomfortable.
I swallowed, instinctively looking for Hazel. She had told me I was safe here. But what could a shopkeep do against the Warden of the Night Market.
“Seeing as I already had to come pick up an order from Ms. Albright, I thought I would check up on you. See how you are… acclimating.”
He had know where I was the entire time. I wondered if we had pulled anything over on him to begin with or if he had simply let me go. “You don’t look like a man who is off duty,” I commented. The silver buckles on his coat shined in the dim light of the apothecary, adding to the rigidity that the man held himself to.
He hummed in response, not really giving my comment more than a cursory thought. “You have done well to find Ms. Albright,” he said. “She is one of the rare few that comes by her product honestly.” I thought back to the budget brooms that harassed her when I had first arrived. “I would like to do a follow up with you,” he said. “Inquire a bit further about how you found yourself within the Night Market. Not today of course. But soon.”
[[I already told you everything I know. What more do you want?]]
[[I have nothing to say to you]]
[[Why is the Warden so concerned with me?]]“There is no way I’m going back with you,” I told him, backing away. His hand was on the sword. For a man who apparently had taken the day off, he still had enough weaponry on him to be a threat.
“The rules of the market have been broken,” he told me, voice steady as he read me his version of my rights. “You were set for a bail of a certain length and instead you have run from that bail."
"By your behest!" I nearly yelled.
"Again, our upcoming interactions are going to decide whether or not I was wrong."
“So what? I don't do as you say and this is all off? You’ll be bringing me right back to the bail block?” I asked. “Or am I going into the flesh pits?”
“It will depend on how difficult you make this. Now, I would advise that you show a bit more respect rather than thisdegree of obstinence you are clearly emitting. The Velvet Guard does not tolerate people who do not complete their service. I am giving you a second chance which I feel is lenient of me.”
[[Go fuck yourself]]
[[Try to run towards the back room]]
[[Negotiate with him]]“I did nothing wrong,” I shouted. His hand was on the sword. For a man who apparently had taken the day off, he still had enough weaponry on him to be a threat. “I tried to explain that to you back at the docks. I don’t remember who I am. I am not here to spy on the market or bring secrets back home. I don’t even know how to navigate the streets.”
“The rules of the market have been broken,” he told me, voice steady as he read me his version of my rights. “You were set for a bail of a certain length and instead you have run from that bail."
"By your behest!" I nearly yelled.
"Again, our upcoming interactions are going to decide whether or not I was wrong."
“So what? I don't do as you say and this is all off? You’ll be bringing me right back to the bail block?” I asked. “Or am I going into the flesh pits?”
“It will depend on how difficult you make this. Now, I would advise that you show a bit more respect rather than thisdegree of obstinence you are clearly emitting. The Velvet Guard does not tolerate people who do not complete their service. I am giving you a second chance which I feel is lenient of me.”
[[Go fuck yourself]]
[[Try to run towards the back room]]
[[Negotiate with him]]“I am working off my debt,” I told him. I may have skipped the bail block entirely but it did not mean that I was not still doing what he intended. Hazel just didn’t buy me. If anything, my presence within the apothecary was more voluntary than anything else which I thought would be a good thing in the eyes of this man. Apparently, right and wrong were incredibly black and white to him though.
“The rules of the market have been broken,” he told me, voice steady as he read me his version of my rights. “You were set for a bail of a certain length and instead you have run from that bail."
"By your behest!" I nearly yelled.
"Again, our upcoming interactions are going to decide whether or not I was wrong."
“So what? I don't do as you say and this is all off? You’ll be bringing me right back to the bail block?” I asked. “Or am I going into the flesh pits?”
“It will depend on how difficult you make this. Now, I would advise that you show a bit more respect rather than thisdegree of obstinence you are clearly emitting. The Velvet Guard does not tolerate people who do not complete their service. I am giving you a second chance which I feel is lenient of me.”
[[Go fuck yourself]]
[[Try to run towards the back room]]
[[Negotiate with him]]<img src="images/Ch 2.png"
height="300" width="900">
Blurred lines of amber and white streaked across my vision.
[[Next|Solo]]
<<set $beginningroute to "solostab">>“I already told you everything I know.” Now, whether he wanted to listen to it or not was an entirely different situation. “What more do you want from me?”
He looked at me dispassionatley, his eyes giving nothing away. “I simply believe there is more to our conversation to be had. If, on the off chance you are telling the truth, perhaps I could even help you.”
It felt like false hope. Whereas Hazel promised to help me and I believed her, this man, I was unsure of. He had been the one to process me. To turn the cogs of the cage he locked me in. If he was truly concerned about me, he would have helped me escape the sandy expanse of pens.
“You do not need to answer me now,” he said amicably. I noticed how he made sure to keep his body still. To not make a move towards me as if he didn’t wish to spook me. “If you do wish to seek my help, however, Hazel can direct you to where I will be. I would advise you not to come down to the station unless you have your papers, however,” he continued, as if my silence was some sort of affirmation. It was clear that this was not a man that was told no often. Or at all.
[[I don’t think I will be doing that]]
[[I'll be down there in a few days]]
[[Make no commitment]]“I have nothing to say to you,” I told him firmly.
“There are perhaps some ways we can look into obtaining the things you do not know.”
It felt like false hope. Whereas Hazel promised to help me and I believed her, this man, I was unsure of. He had been the one to process me. To turn the cogs of the cage he locked me in. If he was truly concerned about me, he would have helped me escape the sandy expanse of pens.
“You do not need to answer me now,” he said amicably. I noticed how he made sure to keep his body still. To not make a move towards me as if he didn’t wish to spook me. “If you do wish to seek my help, however, Hazel can direct you to where I will be. I would advise you not to come down to the station unless you have your papers, however,” he continued, as if my silence was some sort of affirmation. It was clear that this was not a man that was told no often. Or at all.
[[I don’t think I will be doing that]]
[[I'll be down there in a few days]]
[[Make no commitment]]I tipped my head to the side. “Why is the Warden of the Night Market, so concerned with me?” Now that I had gotten rest, it felt odd. The man in charge of the entire justice system, personally escorted me down to the pens. Took an interest in me, a random interloper of the market. Either he really took his job seriously, or there was something else going on that I wasn’t being told.
“There are perhaps some ways we can look into obtaining the things you do not know,” he said. The Warden seemed great at answering questions without truly answering them.
“You do not need to answer me now,” he said amicably. I noticed how he made sure to keep his body still. To not make a move towards me as if he didn’t wish to spool me. “If you do wish to seek my help, however, Hazel can direct you to where I will be. I would advise you not to come down to the station unless you have your papers, however,” he continued, as if my silence was some sort of affirmation. It was clear that this was not a man that was told no often. Or at all.
[[I don’t think I will be doing that]]
[[I'll be down there in a few days]]
[[Make no commitment]]
<<set $perception ++>>“I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” I said, swallowing thickly.
Nothing. Not even a twitch in his stonelike exterior. “Yes. I suppose that is not a fond place for you.”
“I don’t know if it’s a fond place for many.”
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulse beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The Warden took it from her, tucking it promptly inside his jacket pocket and out of view. I didn’t know how it didn’t bulk out near his ribs when the jacket fell back in place.
“My thanks, Ms. Albright,” he said. “Have you already billed me?”
“Done,” she chirped. Hazel shuffled a bit, her hands wringing through the folds of her skirt. “I uh, I know you said I don’t need to discount you but um… I did. Just a little. For that… information, you got me.”
Gabriel’s expression still did not change.
“You know. The…” she bopped her head a bit as if to have a silent conversation with the man.
“I am aware of what you are speaking of, Ms. Albright.”
She blushed. “Oh. Good. Right. Uh… you wouldn’t happen to… is there a time that perhaps I could go over a few more things with you? I know you have said we have hashed everything out, but I really think we are missing something. I think if we can just find that small little piece then….” she trailed off, her voice cracking a bit.
Gabriel kept his gaze firmly on hers, and I could see Hazel fidgeting beneath it. As I looked at him, I noticed the expression was not one that was unkind. In fact, he seemed almost sad for the woman before him.
“When you come up with a lead, Ms. Albright, you know I will listen. Until then, I am afraid there is not much more the Velvet Guard can do.”
Her eyes snapped up. “And Gabriel Caine. Is there nothing more he can do?” I had not heard that particular edge to her voice before. I found my own spine straightening at it, my eyes widening slightly. Gabriel remained unaffected.
As he turned back to me, I watched Hazel’s shoulders deflate. “Please consider my request to come speak with me,” he said. “I believe I could help. I would like to help.”
[[Why would you want to help me?]]
[[Thank you for the offer]]
[[Stay silent and let him go]]“I’m still a little uncertain about what I am doing.” I looked around the shop, noticing the way the dust bunnies moved in the far corners. The questionable stains that were littered across the floor. No sun filtered in through the stain glassed window. Somewhere out there, there was a gate though. One that led to a home I didn’t remember. “Can it wait a few days?” I asked. “I might need to figure a few things out.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. I didn’t trust the man. But, I didn’t feel like questioning his authority either. Perhaps I could convince Hazel to come with me as assurance that I wasn’t about to be thrown back in a pen.
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulse beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The Warden took it from her, tucking it promptly inside his jacket pocket and out of view. I didn’t know how it didn’t bulk out near his ribs when the jacket fell back in place.
“My thanks, Ms. Albright,” he said. “Have you already billed me?”
“Done,” she chirped. Hazel shuffled a bit, her hands wringing through the folds of her skirt. “I uh, I know you said I don’t need to discount you but um… I did. Just a little. For that… information, you got me.”
Gabriel’s expression still did not change.
“You know. The…” she bopped her head a bit as if to have a silent conversation with the man.
“I am aware of what you are speaking of, Ms. Albright.”
She blushed. “Oh. Good. Right. Uh… you wouldn’t happen to… is there a time that perhaps I could go over a few more things with you? I know you have said we have hashed everything out, but I really think we are missing something. I think if we can just find that small little piece then….” she trailed off, her voice cracking a bit.
Gabriel kept his gaze firmly on hers, and I could see Hazel fidgeting beneath it. As I looked at him, I noticed the expression was not one that was unkind. In fact, he seemed almost sad for the woman before him.
“When you come up with a lead, Ms. Albright, you know I will listen. Until then, I am afraid there is not much more the Velvet Guard can do.”
Her eyes snapped up. “And Gabriel Caine. Is there nothing more he can do?” I had not heard that particular edge to her voice before. I found my own spine straightening at it, my eyes widening slightly. Gabriel remained unaffected.
As he turned back to me, I watched Hazel’s shoulders deflate. “I look forward to our meeting."
[[Why would you want to help me?]]
[[Thank you for the offer]]
[[Stay silent and let him go]]I didn't answer him. I wasn't so naive to turn help away when offered but seeing as how I viewed this man as the one responsible for my experience in the Night Market thus far, I wasn't sure if help lied within him.
I was saved from having to answer him though when the back door swung open.
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulse beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The Warden took it from her, tucking it promptly inside his jacket pocket and out of view. I didn’t know how it didn’t bulk out near his ribs when the jacket fell back in place.
“My thanks, Ms. Albright,” he said. “Have you already billed me?”
“Done,” she chirped. Hazel shuffled a bit, her hands wringing through the folds of her skirt. “I uh, I know you said I don’t need to discount you but um… I did. Just a little. For that… information, you got me.”
Gabriel’s expression still did not change.
“You know. The…” she bopped her head a bit as if to have a silent conversation with the man.
“I am aware of what you are speaking of, Ms. Albright.”
She blushed. “Oh. Good. Right. Uh… you wouldn’t happen to… is there a time that perhaps I could go over a few more things with you? I know you have said we have hashed everything out, but I really think we are missing something. I think if we can just find that small little piece then….” she trailed off, her voice cracking a bit.
Gabriel kept his gaze firmly on hers, and I could see Hazel fidgeting beneath it. As I looked at him, I noticed the expression was not one that was unkind. In fact, he seemed almost sad for the woman before him.
“When you come up with a lead, Ms. Albright, you know I will listen. Until then, I am afraid there is not much more the Velvet Guard can do.”
Her eyes snapped up. “And Gabriel Caine. Is there nothing more he can do?” I had not heard that particular edge to her voice before. I found my own spine straightening at it, my eyes widening slightly. Gabriel remained unaffected.
As he turned back to me, I watched Hazel’s shoulders deflate. “My offer still stands for when you have had time to think,” he said. “I believe I could help. I would like to help.”
[[Why would you want to help me?]]
[[Thank you for the offer]]
[[Stay silent and let him go]]“Why?” I asked simply. I had escaped from his jail. The offer and the situation were both odd to contemplate. <<if $beginningroute == "hazel">> Though, I supposed he assumed I had been bought by Hazel. That I was repaying my debt with her. In a way, I was.<</if>>
He leveled his gaze at me, and I felt compelled to look back at him. “I am not a monster,” he said. “My genuine belief lies in an effort to help.”
“And yet you locked me in a cage,” I pointed out.
“Because you had broken one of our rules. I see no rules being broken now. You are paying your debt. I do not need you to pay further.”
When he turned towards the door, I knew the conversation was over. I watched the way his broad shoulders moved under the tight fabric of his tunic and vest. The tight press of panic began to ease the further he walked away. I could feel Hazel hovering near my side, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could open it as a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the sie of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]
“Thank you for the offer.” I said pragmatically. It was no guarantee that I would seek him out, but it was not completely closing the door to that avenue either.
For a moment, he stood across the shop, looking as if he wanted to say something more. He leveled a curious gaze on me, one that felt uncomfortable the longer it was drawn out. There was something he was searching for. A man like that didn’t need to hide that fact either. I doubted many questioned his authority.
Just as I thought he was going to say something more, however, he turned to leave. The muscles of his shoulders bunched under the tight blue material of his tunic and his boots clipped across the shop with purpose
The door swung open before Gabriel could open it as a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the sie of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]
I didn’t say anything to him. I didn’t want to make a promise I wasn’t sure I was going to keep. If anything, I just needed him to go so I could feel like I could take a moment to breathe.
For a moment, he stood across the shop, looking as if he wanted to say something more. He leveled a curious gaze on me, one that felt uncomfortable the longer it was drawn out. There was something he was searching for. A man like that didn’t need to hide that fact either. I doubted many questioned his authority.
Just as I thought he was going to say something more, however, he turned to leave. The muscles of his shoulders bunched under the tight blue material of his tunic and his boots clipped across the shop with purpose
The door swung open before Gabriel could open it as a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the sie of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]
“Nice to see you too, Caine!” Milo shouted after him. Stepping inside, he let the door fall shut with a creaking bang behind him. “What was Mr. Stick up his ass here for?” He stared at the door, as if he could see through to Gabriel’s retreating back.
“Weekly order,” Hazel commented, shuffling to the side and saying nothing more about it. I felt a sigh of relief go through me at the mans departure. <<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">> And had to wonder, just what kind of person Hazel was, that she so easily was able to put off the Warden.<</if>>
Glancing at the door, Hazel’s eyes went wide as she locked onto an odd looking contraption. She was worrying her lower lip between her clenched teeth. “Is that really the time?” She didn’t wait for either of us to respond as she began pulling jars down and filling small sachets. The time contraption she spoke of was a lantern mobile, twirling around three spherical gears. I had no idea what it meant and doubted even if I did get trapped here, I would be able to decipher its knowledge.
Milo sauntered into the room fully then, hopping up on the counter and scooting over as Hazel hit his hip when he nearly knocked over a jar of what looked like mulberry stained pebbles. “So,” he began. “I was thinking…”
“Was it tough?” Hazel snorted at her own joke, bouncing back and forth on her foot as she prepared a silver laced bag.
Milo ignored her. “If you are keen on finding out how to get home, there may be a way.”
[[I'm listening]]
[[I'll do anything]]
<<if $beginningroute == "hazel">>[[Seems like everyone is desperate to help]]
<<elseif $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">>[[How am I supposed to go anywhere with the Warden on my ass]]
<<elseif $beginningroute == "soloescape">>[[How am I supposed to go anywhere with the Warden on my ass]]<</if>>“You can go fuck yourself,” I spat. I was not going back with this man. I didn’t care what his rules were, I had escaped from that place and I was not going to willingly walk back there.
“It is unfortunate that you see things that way,” he said, his tone bland. I could see something flash across his eyes as he began walking towards me. The moment he got his hands on me, I knew it would be all over. I was going to have to fight him somehow. The night may have ended with me in his flesh pits, but I vowed he would not come out of this unharmed.
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulse beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The Warden and I were frozen in the middle of the room. Me, looking like I was going to bolt. And him, hand on his sword, eyes pinning me in place.
“Oh,” Hazel breathed. “Now, Warden. I do hope you are not planning on causing a problem within my shop.”
His eyes didn’t even tip towards her. “Of course not, Ms. Albright. $name, it is $name, isn't it? We are just making a few rules clear.” His smile tipped into something unkind. “We may need to renegotiate your bail.”
The sound of Hazel’s footsteps echoed across the scuffed floor. “Warden, this individual is here under my invitation and my protection.”
“I understand that.”
“And I would hate to have to end our working relationship together,” she interrupted. The Warden’s eyes ticked down towards the black bag in her hand. “I have a strict policy of no violence in my shop. Please honor that.”
“Ms. Albright–”
“Warden Caine,” she said. “Please. Give me the respect that I have always given to you.”
His hand twitched on the pummel of his sword. I thought for certain he would still reach for it. That I would be skewed through in a single moment. But instead, he let his hand fall as he straightened. Turning from me, he held his hand out for the bag. “Have you already billed me?”
“Done,” she chirped. Coming to stand by my side, Hazel looped her arm within mine. “I do hope you have a nice day, Warden. It was lovely to see you and I will make sure to have another tonic ready for you by the new moon.”
I could see the sneer on his lips. This woman, all five foot two of her, was stopping him in his tracks and I had no idea how or why.
“Thank you, Ms. Albright. Please contact me if you change your mind about your current ward.”
When he turned towards the door, I knew the conversation was over. I watched the way his broad shoulders moved under the tight fabric of his tunic and vest. The tight press of panic began to ease the further he walked away. I could feel Hazel hovering near my side, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]There was no reasoning with this man. Turning, I pushed past a large vat of something bubbling, skidding around the front counter and towards the door Hazel had disappeared through. Best case scenerio, there was a way out into the market and I could perhaps hide. Worst case scenario, at least maybe Hazel would know I have been taken and work on getting me out again.
But right as I was about to barrell through the door, it opened. Hazel didn’t even look surprised to see me as she walked passed me with a cordial smile on her lips.
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulse beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The Warden and I were frozen in the middle of the room. Me, looking like I was going to bolt. And him, hand on his sword, eyes pinning me in place.
“Oh,” Hazel breathed. “Now, Warden. I do hope you are not planning on causing a problem within my shop.”
His eyes didn’t even tip towards her. “Of course not, Ms. Albright. $name, it is $name, isn't it? We are just making a few rules clear.” His smile tipped into something unkind. “We may need to renegotiate your bail.”
The sound of Hazel’s footsteps echoed across the scuffed floor. “Warden, this individual is here under my invitation and my protection.”
“I understand that.”
“And I would hate to have to end our working relationship together,” she interrupted. The Warden’s eyes ticked down towards the black bag in her hand. “I have a strict policy of no violence in my shop. Please honor that.”
“Ms. Albright–”
“Warden Caine,” she said. “Please. Give me the respect that I have always given to you.”
His hand twitched on the pummel of his sword. I thought for certain he would still reach for it. That I would be skewed through in a single moment. But instead, he let his hand fall as he straightened. Turning from me, he held his hand out for the bag. “Have you already billed me?”
“Done,” she chirped. Coming to stand by my side, Hazel looped her arm within mine. “I do hope you have a nice day, Warden. It was lovely to see you and I will make sure to have another tonic ready for you by the new moon.”
I could see the sneer on his lips. This woman, all five foot two of her, was stopping him in his tracks and I had no idea how or why.
“Thank you, Ms. Albright. Please contact me if you change your mind about your current ward.”
When he turned towards the door, I knew the conversation was over. I watched the way his broad shoulders moved under the tight fabric of his tunic and vest. The tight press of panic began to ease the further he walked away. I could feel Hazel hovering near my side, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]With my hands in the air, I began to back away. There was no way I could take this man in a fight. Both him and I knew it. But everyone had a weakness. If I could just find his. Or at least appeal to it, maybe I wouldn’t be marched back to those docks.
“Look, I am here now. I am serving out a bail sentence without the bail block. I’m sorry I didn't do things the way you saw fit.. But I didn’t do any harm.”
“You violated the terms of our realm,” he said. “And as a Warden, I do not find this acceptable.”
“And I apologize for that. I didn’t know any better. I am asking you now, however, what I could do to keep from going back to those cells.”
With a shake of his head, one booted foot stepped forward. I was suddenly extremely aware of the sword at his hip. “I'm not taking you back. Not yet. I am merely giving you a warning.” I didn’t know if I should call out to Hazel or simply run. Take my chances within the lantern filled streets. As it stood, I didn't believe this man for a second.
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulse beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The Warden and I were frozen in the middle of the room. Me, looking like I was going to bolt. And him, hand on his sword, eyes pinning me in place.
“Oh,” Hazel breathed. “Now, Warden. I do hope you are not planning on causing a problem within my shop.”
His eyes didn’t even tip towards her. “Of course not, Ms. Albright. $name, it is $name, isn't it? We are just making a few rules clear.” His smile tipped into something unkind. “We may need to renegotiate your bail.”
The sound of Hazel’s footsteps echoed across the scuffed floor. “Warden, this individual is here under my invitation and my protection.”
“I understand that.”
“And I would hate to have to end our working relationship together,” she interrupted. The Warden’s eyes ticked down towards the black bag in her hand. “I have a strict policy of no violence in my shop. Please honor that.”
“Ms. Albright–”
“Warden Caine,” she said. “Please. Give me the respect that I have always given to you.”
His hand twitched on the pummel of his sword. I thought for certain he would still reach for it. That I would be skewed through in a single moment. But instead, he let his hand fall as he straightened. Turning from me, he held his hand out for the bag. “Have you already billed me?”
“Done,” she chirped. Coming to stand by my side, Hazel looped her arm within mine. “I do hope you have a nice day, Warden. It was lovely to see you and I will make sure to have another tonic ready for you by the new moon.”
I could see the sneer on his lips. This woman, all five foot two of her, was stopping him in his tracks and I had no idea how or why.
“Thank you, Ms. Albright. Please contact me if you change your mind about your current ward.”
When he turned towards the door, I knew the conversation was over. I watched the way his broad shoulders moved under the tight fabric of his tunic and vest. The tight press of panic began to ease the further he walked away. I could feel Hazel hovering near my side, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]As I walked further into the room, Mr. Billows followed me, ambling on short and stubby legs towards where Hazel was working. He stopped when he saw Milo and let out a low growl.
“Oh grow up, Bill! It was years ago!”
The cat curled his lips back to reveal pointed teeth as he jumped up on the counter next to Hazel. Purposefully, he gave Milo a wide bearth before settling to watch the man through a narrowed gaze.
“I’m listening,” I told him, drawing his attention away from the glaring cat. “What is this so-called way?”
Milo cast another glance at the cat, but I noticed how he scooted away from its perched form a bit more before turning his full attention back to me. Hazel kindly stepped between him and the feline, acting as a buffer.
Cocking one foot up on the counter, he laced his fingers around his knee. “See, the issue here is that you need information. But that information is one, not readily available because you seem like you appeared out of thin air and two, not readily available because people try real hard to stay out of the matters of the Velvet Guard and the comings and goings of the gates.”
“So I’m shit out of luck?”
“Not necessarily. What you need is to talk to the eyes and ears of the Night Market. Someone who has their hands in literally every pocket worth having and has seen enough of the higher ups without their pants to blackmail someone if necessary.”
Hazel paused, something foul twisting her lips. “Oh, Milo….”
“Belladonna Malady,” he said with a grin. “You’re going to want to make good with her.”
[[Why does it seem like you two have a history with Belladonna Malady?]]
[[Why would this woman even want to help me?]]
[[Is it wise to trust another person with this?]]
[[Okay, seriously. What is up with you and the cat?]]
As I walked further into the room, Mr. Billows followed me, ambling on short and stubby legs towards where Hazel was working. He stopped when he saw Milo and let out a low growl.
“Oh grow up, Bill! It was years ago!”
The cat curled his lips back to reveal pointed teeth as he jumped up on the counter next to Hazel. Purposefully, he gave Milo a wide bearth before settling to watch the man through a narrowed gaze.
“Whatever the way is,” I told him, “I’m in. I’ll do anything.”
“Don’t say that,” he warned. “Never say that to a member of the Night Market. They will take that quite literally.”
“I just mean…”
He waved me off. “I know. I know. “ Cocking one foot up on the counter, he laced his fingers around his knee. “See, the issue here is that you need information. But that information is one, not readily available because you seem like you appeared out of thin air and two, not readily available because people try real hard to stay out of the matters of the Velvet Guard and the comings and goings of the gates.”
“So I’m shit out of luck?”
“Not necessarily. What you need is to talk to the eyes and ears of the Night Market. Someone who has their hands in literally every pocket worth having and has seen enough of the higher ups without their pants to blackmail someone if necessary.”
Hazel paused, something foul twisting her lips. “Oh, Milo….”
“Belladonna Malady,” he said with a grin. “You’re going to want to make good with her.”
[[Why does it seem like you two have a history with Belladonna Malady?]]
[[Why would this woman even want to help me?]]
[[Is it wise to trust another person with this?]]
[[Okay, seriously. What is up with you and the cat?]]
As I walked further into the room, Mr. Billows followed me, ambling on short and stubby legs towards where Hazel was working. He stopped when he saw Milo and let out a low growl.
“Oh grow up, Bill! It was years ago!”
The cat curled his lips back to reveal pointed teeth as he jumped up on the counter next to Hazel. Purposefully, he gave Milo a wide bearth before settling to watch the man through a narrowed gaze.
“Why does it seem like everyone is suddenly so desperate to help me?” First Hazel. Then the Warden. Now Milo had suddenly thought of a way to gather the loose threads of my mind. Suspicion stirred deep in my stomach. I should have been grateful for the help, but at the same time, I didn’t understand why they had deemed me so important.
For Milo, however, he only frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Gabriel offered ?them help,” Hazel said, not looking up from her work.
“Don’t take his help,” Milo said.
“Any reason why?” I asked.
“Yeah, he’s no fun.”
Milo cast another sneer at the cat, but I noticed how he scooted away from its perched form a bit more before turning his full attention back to me. Hazel kindly stepped between him and the feline, acting as a buffer.
Cocking one foot up on the counter, he laced his fingers around his knee. “See, the issue here is that you need information. But that information is one, not readily available because you seem like you appeared out of thin air and two, not readily available because people try real hard to stay out of the matters of the Velvet Guard and the comings and goings of the gates.”
“So I’m shit out of luck?”
“Not necessarily. What you need is to talk to the eyes and ears of the Night Market. Someone who has their hands in literally every pocket worth having and has seen enough of the higher ups without their pants to blackmail someone if necessary.”
Hazel paused, something foul twisting her lips. “Oh, Milo….”
“Belladonna Malady,” he said with a grin. “You’re going to want to make good with her.”
[[Why does it seem like you two have a history with Belladonna Malady?]]
[[Why would this woman even want to help me?]]
[[Is it wise to trust another person with this?]]
[[Okay, seriously. What is up with you and the cat?]]
As I walked further into the room, Mr. Billows followed me, ambling on short and stubby legs towards where Hazel was working. He stopped when he saw Milo and let out a low growl.
“Oh grow up, Bill! It was years ago!”
The cat curled his lips back to reveal pointed teeth as he jumped up on the counter next to Hazel. Purposefully, he gave Milo a wide bearth before settling to watch the man through a narrowed gaze.
“How am I supposed to go anywhere with the Warden on my ass?” I was afraid if I stepped into that alley, he would be waiting. Breaking the locks on my cage was not something he was soon to forget.
“Let me handle the Warden,” Hazel said softly, eyes focused on her herbs. “Besides, once you get your papers in, I think we will be fine. He has nothing to complain about. Milo, did you go pay for a new lock like I asked?”
“Sure,” he chirped. I didn’t think Hazel believed that to even be true. Cocking one foot up on the counter, he laced his fingers around his knee. “See, the issue here is that you need information. But that information is one, not readily available because you seem like you appeared out of thin air and two, not readily available because people try real hard to stay out of the matters of the Velvet Guard and the comings and goings of the gates.”
“So I’m shit out of luck?”
“Not necessarily. What you need is to talk to the eyes and ears of the Night Market. Someone who has their hands in literally every pocket worth having and has seen enough of the higher ups without their pants to blackmail someone if necessary.”
Hazel paused, something foul twisting her lips. “Oh, Milo….”
“Belladonna Malady,” he said with a grin. “You’re going to want to make good with her.”
[[Why does it seem like you two have a history with Belladonna Malady?]]
[[Why would this woman even want to help me?]]
[[Is it wise to trust another person with this?]]
[[Okay, seriously. What is up with you and the cat?]]
I glanced between the two in front of me, both of them wearing vastly different expressions. If this Belladonna had even the smallest answer to any of my questions, it was a lead to follow. Hazel did not look certain, however, her lips pursed as she began putting her orders together with a bit more vigor.
“You two look like maybe you have history with her,” I said.
“Not a lot,” Hazel answered, though her gaze continued to linger on Milo. “At least from me, that is.” Cinching together a sachet, she fully looked at Milo now, hands on her hips. “She’s a bit expensive, Milo. Even if she was able to help, she’s not going to do it for free.”
“On the contrary,” Milo grinned. “She will. Once.”
“What?” There was naked suspicion on the young witch's face now.
“First one is always free,” he declared. “It’s a policy of hers. It’s how she keeps you coming back for more.”
“And how do you know this?” The raised brow expression she was giving him was one he mirrored in return. Milo seemed like he was having all too much fun with this bit of the conversation.
“I have taken her up on her kindness from time to time,” he said coyly.
I couldn’t tell if the blush on Hazel’s cheeks was from the slow rise of heat in the room, or the subject of Belladonna’s kindness. “Milo.”
“Not like that,” he laughed. “Business. It is all business between Belladonna and I. Believe me. I don’t think she likes me enough to sleep with me even if I brought in my entire life savings.”
“I might need a bit more explanation here,” I reminded them. “If I’m going to go talk to her, trust her, I want to know who exactly I’m dealing with.”
Milo hopped off the counter, plucking a jar of sweets, or what I assumed were sweets, off the counter and popping open the lid. “Belladonna is a courtesan here in the Night Market. She works within the Pleasure District and is quite good at what she does.” There was respect in his tone. I didn’t know why I wasn’t expecting to hear it, but I could see even Hazel nod her head in agreement. “The woman has not only aligned herself into being the perfect specimen for absolutely anyone that needs her, but demands quite the hefty price in return. You want someone that knows something about anything? She is your woman.”
“Why?” I asked confused. “Because she sleeps with people for information?”
Hazel sighed, clearly not liking the way this conversation was going. “Sometimes,” she said. “It’s all up to Belladonna, of course. Mainly, people buy her services for the status. When you show up to a ball with Belladonna Malady on your arm, well….” Hazel sighed a little in frustration. “She is quite lovely looking,” she admitted. “And terrifying.”
Milo rolled his eyes. “She’s not that bad.”
“I am almost certain she could single-handedly politically destroy any one of the Barons.”
Milo popped the candy into his mouth, his face puckering at the taste. “Which is why $name should go talk to her. Who better to give us some information than the woman who sees all?”
[[I’ll take your advice and go speak with her]]
[[Don't I get a say in this?]]
[[Maybe someone should talk to her for me]]“Why would this woman want to help me?” I began. It seemed a fair assessment after all. While I had been incredibly lucky with who I had run into within the Night Market, that luck had to run out sooner or later.
“She won’t,” Hazel said. “Not without a price.”
“Oh, Haze,” Milo chastised lovingly. “Don’t go being like that. Belladonna is a fair woman.”
“She charges and arm and a leg.”
“And her information is rarely wrong.” Kicking his feet back and forth on the counter, he watched as Hazel went back to her orders, a frown twisting her lips. “First meeting with her is always free,” he continued. “It’s how she proves that she can do what she says. Though, I’m not sure why she even does that anymore. The woman has built quite the reputation the last decade. No one is going to her as a risk.”
“I might need a bit more explanation here,” I reminded them. “If I’m going to go talk to her, trust her, I want to know who exactly I’m dealing with.”
Milo hopped off the counter, plucking a jar of sweets, or what I assumed were sweets, off the counter and popping open the lid. “Belladonna is a courtesan here in the Night Market. She works within the Pleasure District and is quite good at what she does.” There was respect in his tone. I didn’t know why I wasn’t expecting to hear it, but I could see even Hazel nod her head in agreement. “The woman has not only aligned herself into being the perfect specimen for absolutely anyone that needs her, but demands quite the hefty price in return. You want someone that knows something about anything? She is your woman.”
“Why?” I asked confused. “Because she sleeps with people for information?”
Hazel sighed, clearly not liking the way this conversation was going. “Sometimes,” she said. “It’s all up to Belladonna, of course. Mainly, people buy her services for the status. When you show up to a ball with Belladonna Malady on your arm, well….” Hazel sighed a little in frustration. “She is quite lovely looking,” she admitted. “And terrifying.”
Milo rolled his eyes. “She’s not that bad.”
“I am almost certain she could single-handedly politically destroy any one of the Barons.”
Milo popped the candy into his mouth, his face puckering at the taste. “Which is why $name should go talk to her. Who better to give us some information than the woman who sees all?”
[[I’ll take your advice and go speak with her]]
[[Don't I get a say in this?]]
[[Maybe someone should talk to her for me]]There was concern in Hazel’s eyes and while Milo seemed adamant that this should be my next move, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of apprehension. I had been asleep for two days and this had not been an option. When I had first entered this shop, scared and confused, she hadn’t even been mentioned.
“Is it wise for us to trust another person? This market doesn’t seem all that welcoming to strangers.”
“Belladonna is a professional,” Milo said. “Whatever you say to her in confidence, stays with her.”
Hazel’s eyes snapped towards his. “And how do you know that?” He grinned at her, refusing to answer. I couldn’t tell if the look that crossed her face was hurt or true disgust. She hid it well by going back to her orders, albeit, shoving the sachets full of herbs with a bit more vigor.
“She’s pricey, I’ll freely admit that,” Milo continued. “But, she knows her stuff. Knows more about the Night Market than anyone is comfortable with, and will take the first meeting for free just to prove it.”
“How accurate is her information?” I asked.
“Extremely.”
“I might need a bit more explanation here,” I reminded them. “If I’m going to go talk to her, trust her, I want to know who exactly I’m dealing with.”
Milo hopped off the counter, plucking a jar of sweets, or what I assumed were sweets, off the counter and popping open the lid. “Belladonna is a courtesan here in the Night Market. She works within the Pleasure District and is quite good at what she does.” There was respect in his tone. I didn’t know why I wasn’t expecting to hear it, but I could see even Hazel nod her head in agreement. “The woman has not only aligned herself into being the perfect specimen for absolutely anyone that needs her, but demands quite the hefty price in return. You want someone that knows something about anything? She is your woman.”
“Why?” I asked confused. “Because she sleeps with people for information?”
Hazel sighed, clearly not liking the way this conversation was going. “Sometimes,” she said. “It’s all up to Belladonna, of course. Mainly, people buy her services for the status. When you show up to a ball with Belladonna Malady on your arm, well….” Hazel sighed a little in frustration. “She is quite lovely looking,” she admitted. “And terrifying.”
Milo rolled his eyes. “She’s not that bad.”
“I am almost certain she could single-handedly politically destroy any one of the Barons.”
Milo popped the candy into his mouth, his face puckering at the taste. “Which is why $name should go talk to her. Who better to give us some information than the woman who sees all?”
[[I’ll take your advice and go speak with her]]
[[Don't I get a say in this?]]
[[Maybe someone should talk to her for me]]As Milo shifted his hand, Mr. Billow’s let out a low growl, causing Milo to flinch. While Milo no doubt looked like a man who had been punched several times in his life, I never would have pegged him as a person concerned about the odd actions of a shop cat.
“What is with you and the cat?” I asked, nodding towards the way Billows began to edge towards him. He only stopped when Hazel laid a soothing hand on his haunches, leaning down to place a kiss within his fluffy gray fur.
“It’s a demon,” Milo said.
Hazel’s eyes snapped upwards. “He is not, Milo Next. You take that back.”
“I won’t. That cat straight up is a monster.”
“You stepped on his tail,” Hazel protested.
“Nearly fifteen years ago!” Billows swiped out as if to hit Milo for the tone of his voice. “See? Look at it. What cat does that? That is not a normal cat. That is a demon straight from the icy pits of the underworld, sent here to make my life a living hell and nearly make me bleed out.”
[[I suddenly regret asking the question]]
[[He doesn't look evil]]
[[Cats are soul eaters]]“You were fine,” Hazel said firmly. Hazel struck me as the kind of woman validating everyones feelings. Never one to be dismissive. Yet, when it came to Milo and Billows, it was apparent that Billows won every time.
“He shredded my damn leg,” Milo continued his rant. “I didn’t even see him, and he shredded my damn leg. I apologized and everything.”
I blinked at the argument, not having known what my simple question could have even done. “I’m suddenly sorry I asked,” I muttered.
It was enough to bring Milo back to himself, although I did notice him make a crude gesture towards the animal. I had a feeling Mr. Billows returned the sentiment.
“Anyway,” he said. “Belladonna Malady. I think she could help.”
[[Why does it seem like you two have a history with Belladonna Malady?]]
[[Why would this woman even want to help me?]]
[[Is it wise to trust another person with this?]]I stared at the ball of fluff. The cat was definitely glaring at Milo but he had sat beneath the breakfast table at my feet, nearly all morning. So far, he had done little more than lick his paw and glare. And the glare I was almost certain was simply how his face looked.
“He doesn’t look evil,” I tried, attempting to defuse the situation.
“He shredded my damn leg,” Milo continued shouted. “I didn’t even see him, and he shredded my damn leg. I apologized and everything.”
“You did not apologize,” Hazel said. “You yelled that you were dying and stained my floors.” My eyes shot over towards the front door, where I had seen the suspicious stain earlier.
“Bill is a damn menace to society,” Milo claimed. “He’s at least thirty years old, and that is far too long for a cat like him to live. You will never be able to tell me otherwise.”
“Um,” I started, “You were saying…?”
Milo’s head snapped back to me, as if he had forgotten I was there. “Right.” He tossed one last glare at Billows and I got the distinct feeling, the cat was matching his ire entirely. “Belladonna Malady. I think she could help.”
[[Why does it seem like you two have a history with Belladonna Malady?]]
[[Why would this woman even want to help me?]]
[[Is it wise to trust another person with this?]]I stared at the ball of fluff. The cat was definitely glaring at Milo. There was no doubt about it.
“Cat’s are for sure, soul eaters,” I said, half joking.
Milo’s eyes went wide with the validation. “See? See? He shredded my damn leg,” Milo continued shouting. “I didn’t even see him, and he shredded my damn leg. I apologized and everything.”
“You did not apologize,” Hazel said. “You yelled that you were dying and stained my floors.” My eyes shot over towards the front door, where I had seen the suspicious stain earlier.
“Bill is a damn menace to society,” Milo claimed. “He’s at least thirty years old, and that is far too long for a cat like him to live. You will never be able to tell me otherwise.”
“Um,” I started, “You were saying…?”
Milo’s head snapped back to me, as if he had forgotten I was there. “Right.” He tossed one last glared at Billows and I got the distinct feeling, the cat was matching his ire entirely. “Belladonna Malady. I think she could help.”
[[Why does it seem like you two have a history with Belladonna Malady?]]
[[Why would this woman even want to help me?]]
[[Is it wise to trust another person with this?]]I looked between the two of them, watching the hesitation on Hazel’s face and the absolute elation on Milo’s. Even with Hazel’s obvious discomfort, she did not discredit the woman, however. It seemed, at the very least, something worth checking out.
“You are the ones who know the Night Market best,” I said. “I’ll speak with her if you think it will help.”
Hazel sighed, cinching a sachet shut with a green thread. It glimmered for a moment before sealing around the bag in a long line of wax. Setting it aside, she grabbed another, beginning on the next. “Milo, you better coach ?them on what to say. If you are not absolutely clear with Belladonna, she won’t be forthcoming. Especially if the meeting is free.”
“Excellent!” Holding out his arm, he grinned. “What do you say, darlin’? Want to go for a small stroll with me?”
[[An evening stroll would be nice]]
[[I'd prefer going on my own]]
[[Hazel, couldn't you come with me?]]“Hold it. You are acting as if this is a done deal. Don’t I get a say in this?”
I looked between the two of them. A pleased expression passed Hazel’s face at my lack of readiness to do whatever Milo wanted. Milo, on the other hand, looked almost stunned that I was not jumping all over the opportunity.
“I mean, of course,” he said, a bit taken aback. “But, it’s Belladonna. I don’t know how much better an offer you’re going to get.”
Any offer sounded like an offer worth following. Especially if it was free for the time being. But the sentiment still stood that they were deciding things for me. Or at least Milo seemed prone to be. I didn’t want to make that a formed habit.
“Ask, next time,” I told him.
Whereas most people would roll their eyes and mumble a small question of appeasement towards me, Milo looked delighted at my demand. “$name. Would you like to go speak with Belladonna to inquire about any leads that might help us uncover what is going on in your brain?”
“Why yes, Milo. I would,” I said calmly.
Hazel sighed, cinching a sachet shut with a green thread. It glimmered for a moment before sealing around the bag in a long line of wax. Setting it aside, she grabbed another, beginning on the next. “Milo, you better coach ?them on what to say. If you are not absolutely clear with Belladonna, she won’t be forthcoming. Especially if the meeting is free.”
“Excellent!” Holding out his arm, he grinned. “What do you say, darlin’? Want to go for a small stroll with me?”
[[An evening stroll would be nice]]
[[I'd prefer going on my own]]
[[Hazel, couldn't you come with me?]]The shop felt safe. There was something that was familiar about these four walls and with the prospect of leaving them, I didn’t know how comfortable I felt. The streets felt dangerous. The shadows loomed and reached out for me. The eyes that turned my way were unkind. I didn’t know if I was ready yet. I wanted the safety net for a bit longer.
“You could do that for ?them, Milo,” Hazel urged. “Since you say you’ve had dealings with Belladonna anyway.”
“I could,” he started slowly, eyeing me to measure the level of discomfort. “But, more than likely, she’s going to want to see $name. Because she is done doing favors for me. Besides, magic trace is a thing. Belladonna is going to need to see the person in question in order to see if you’ve got anything odd on you.”
My eyes ticked towards the front door. I would have to make my way into the world eventually.
“I don’t even know what all to ask her,” I said.
Hazel sighed, cinching a sachet shut with a green thread. It glimmered for a moment before sealing around the bag in a long line of wax. Setting it aside, she grabbed another, beginning on the next. “Milo, if you want ?them to do this, you better coach them on what to say. If you are not absolutely clear with Belladonna, she won’t be forthcoming. Especially if the meeting is free.”
“Excellent!” Holding out his arm, Milo grinned. “What do you say, darlin’? Want to go for a small stroll with me?”
[[An evening stroll would be nice]]
[[I'd prefer going on my own]]
[[Hazel, couldn't you come with me?]]“Couldn’t I just go on my own?” If I was going to be spending any length of time in the Night Market, I would have to start navigating the streets eventually. This seemed like the opportunity to do so.
It was Hazel who ended up denying me in the end, however. A sad shake of her head sent the loose strands of her hair bouncing. “Not without papers. Once we get that all sorted out, then you can travel the Night Market to your heart's content. But wandering around without your papers is only asking to go back to the docks”
I couldn’t really argue with that sentiment. For the time being, I probably did need an escort.
“Milo won’t steer you wrong,” she said. “And he’ll be much better at coaching you than me.”
“Got to see a woman about some mushrooms anyway. So it’s not out of my way,” Milo grinned. It was clear I was not going to be given a choice on this matter. They weren't letting me loose in the market. Not yet, at least.
Before we left the shop, I saw Milo lean in and plant a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll help with the orders later tonight, yeah?”
“Staying for dinner then?” She was giving him a side long look. Something in her tone testing.
“Absolutely.” He set the candy jar aside but not before fishing out another handful. Hazel swatted him as he ran off, cackling as he exited the shop.
We walked in silence for a moment. Down the gemstone path covered in moss, through the stone arched gate, and out of the view of the will-o-wisps back into the familiar dark alley we had come from. This time when the smoke curled around me, translucent hands reaching from the dark, I was ready for them.
“Want some?” Milo held out his hand, the small colorful cubes sitting in his palm.
I took a few, popping them in my mouth, my lips mimicking his earlier pucker as the sour tang of something sharp and acidic burned my tongue before settling into a burst of sweetness.
“You doing a little better now that you’ve had some sleep?” he asked.
“As well as can be expected,” I told him. There was a small bleeding wound that I felt somewhere within me. As if my memories had been cut from my skin and hidden somewhere deep where I wasn’t allowed to go.
“You look better,” he told me, walking by my side.
I supposed I was probably a sight the other evening. Panicking beneath the city streets. A street urchin practically.
A heaviness settled around us as we entered the alley. Despite having been here before, I felt more alert now and able to take the street in properly. Old buildings lined the alleyway, acting as the stone walls that I had seen make up most of the other passages within the Night Market. Unlike the vibrancy that I had seen upon through the rest of the market, these buildings were black and charred, existing in complete darkness. They were crumbling under the passage of time and the old flickering flame of a put out fire. The heat from a long ago blaze still lingered. I could feel it, as if it still burned, reaching out to sear my skin. Burnt out barrels with dead plants littered the storefronts, while windows were blasted out and offered nothing more than a peek into a decimated shop that had once looked full and thriving.
I wondered what had happened here and how Hazel’s house, a house that looked perfectly intact and lush with life, had stood such damage. Or why the shop owner had stayed at the end of such desolation. The dead felt as if they lingered in each shadow, their screams a hollow cackle riding the faint night breeze.
“How long ago was the fire?” I asked. There was something moving within the burnt shops. By my side, Milo pointedly ignored them.
“I don’t actually remember,” he said, hands in his pocket. “I remember the night clearly. I remember seeing the plumes of smoke go up over the Night Market. The ash blocked the lanterns for days. But as for how long ago it was?” he shrugged. “Time gets a bit tricky in the Night Market.”
I glanced over my shoulder. I couldn’t shake the sensation that we were being followed. The ashen passage before us was not a place I wanted to linger. It took everything in me not to quicken my own steps.
“They smell fear,” Milo said, his tone low.
“Who?”
“The people who died here.”
[[Why haven’t they moved on?]]
[[How many ended up dying here?]]
[[Why was Hazel’s shop unaffected?]]
I did. I wanted to speak to this woman. I wanted to hold onto the small amount of hope that was beginning to burn in my belly. Nodding, I held out my own arm to Milo, snorting as he for some reason bowed. "An evening stroll then?" I said.
"My favorite kind." Before we left the shop, I saw Milo lean in and plant a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll help with the orders later tonight, yeah?”
“Staying for dinner then?” She was giving him a side long look. Something in her tone testing.
“Absolutely.” He set the candy jar aside but not before fishing out another handful. Hazel swatted him as he ran off, cackling as he exited the shop.
We walked in silence for a moment. Down the gemstone path covered in moss, through the stone arched gate, and out of the view of the will-o-wisps back into the familiar dark alley we had come from. This time when the smoke curled around me, translucent hands reaching from the dark, I was ready for them.
“Want some?” Milo held out his hand, the small colorful cubes sitting in his palm.
I took a few, popping them in my mouth, my lips mimicking his earlier pucker as the sour tang of something sharp and acidic burned my tongue before settling into a burst of sweetness.
“You doing a little better now that you’ve had some sleep?” he asked.
“As well as can be expected,” I told him. There was a small bleeding wound that I felt somewhere within me. As if my memories had been cut from my skin and hidden somewhere deep where I wasn’t allowed to go.
“You look better,” he told me, walking by my side.
I supposed I was probably a sight the other evening. Panicking beneath the city streets. A street urchin practically.
A heaviness settled around us as we entered the alley. Despite having been here before, I felt more alert now and able to take the street in properly. Old buildings lined the alleyway, acting as the stone walls that I had seen make up most of the other passages within the Night Market. Unlike the vibrancy that I had seen upon through the rest of the market, these buildings were black and charred, existing in complete darkness. They were crumbling under the passage of time and the old flickering flame of a put out fire. The heat from a long ago blaze still lingered. I could feel it, as if it still burned, reaching out to sear my skin. Burnt out barrels with dead plants littered the storefronts, while windows were blasted out and offered nothing more than a peek into a decimated shop that had once looked full and thriving.
I wondered what had happened here and how Hazel’s house, a house that looked perfectly intact and lush with life, had stood such damage. Or why the shop owner had stayed at the end of such desolation. The dead felt as if they lingered in each shadow, their screams a hollow cackle riding the faint night breeze.
“How long ago was the fire?” I asked. There was something moving within the burnt shops. By my side, Milo pointedly ignored them.
“I don’t actually remember,” he said, hands in his pocket. “I remember the night clearly. I remember seeing the plumes of smoke go up over the Night Market. The ash blocked the lanterns for days. But as for how long ago it was?” he shrugged. “Time gets a bit tricky in the Night Market.”
I glanced over my shoulder. I couldn’t shake the sensation that we were being followed. The ashen passage before us was not a place I wanted to linger. It took everything in me not to quicken my own steps.
“They smell fear,” Milo said, his tone low.
“Who?”
“The people who died here.”
[[Why haven’t they moved on?]]
[[How many ended up dying here?]]
[[Why was Hazel’s shop unaffected?]]Out of everyone I had met, Hazel was by far the one that I felt the safest with. Looking to her, eyeing the work that was spread out before her, I hesitated to ask, though. Surely she wouldn’t care to come with me. To do yet another thing for me.
“Would you want to come, Hazel?” I asked.
She froze, having not expected the question. When she looked up at me it was with a certain amount of pleased surprise. It was quickly replaced with fear though as she began shaking her head. “Oh, I wish I could $name. I’ve just got a lot going on right now. But you’re in good hands with Milo. He’ll make sure you get there safely.”
“I feel kind of bad leaving you with all this,” I said, looking at the array of baggies and herbs spread between us.
“Don’t,” she said firmly. Then, her expression softened. “I mean it. Finding out what happened to you is a priority. Every single time.”
I felt something warm inside me bloom. I didn't know how I would ever thank this woman who was offering me everything in return for nothing. I knew that before I ever left the Night Market, I would have to try.
Before we left the shop, I saw Milo lean in and plant a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll help with the orders later tonight, yeah?”
“Staying for dinner then?” She was giving him a side long look. Something in her tone testing.
“Absolutely.” He set the candy jar aside but not before fishing out another handful. Hazel swatted him as he ran off, cackling as he exited the shop.
We walked in silence for a moment. Down the gemstone path covered in moss, through the stone arched gate, and out of the view of the will-o-wisps back into the familiar dark alley we had come from. This time when the smoke curled around me, translucent hands reaching from the dark, I was ready for them.
“Want some?” Milo held out his hand, the small colorful cubes sitting in his palm.
I took a few, popping them in my mouth, my lips mimicking his earlier pucker as the sour tang of something sharp and acidic burned my tongue before settling into a burst of sweetness.
“You doing a little better now that you’ve had some sleep?” he asked.
“As well as can be expected,” I told him. There was a small bleeding wound that I felt somewhere within me. As if my memories had been cut from my skin and hidden somewhere deep where I wasn’t allowed to go.
“You look better,” he told me, walking by my side.
I supposed I was probably a sight the other evening. Panicking beneath the city streets. A street urchin practically.
A heaviness settled around us as we entered the alley. Despite having been here before, I felt more alert now and able to take the street in properly. Old buildings lined the alleyway, acting as the stone walls that I had seen make up most of the other passages within the Night Market. Unlike the vibrancy that I had seen upon through the rest of the market, these buildings were black and charred, existing in complete darkness. They were crumbling under the passage of time and the old flickering flame of a put out fire. The heat from a long ago blaze still lingered. I could feel it, as if it still burned, reaching out to sear my skin. Burnt out barrels with dead plants littered the storefronts, while windows were blasted out and offered nothing more than a peek into a decimated shop that had once looked full and thriving.
I wondered what had happened here and how Hazel’s house, a house that looked perfectly intact and lush with life, had stood such damage. Or why the shop owner had stayed at the end of such desolation. The dead felt as if they lingered in each shadow, their screams a hollow cackle riding the faint night breeze.
“How long ago was the fire?” I asked. There was something moving within the burnt shops. By my side, Milo pointedly ignored them.
“I don’t actually remember,” he said, hands in his pocket. “I remember the night clearly. I remember seeing the plumes of smoke go up over the Night Market. The ash blocked the lanterns for days. But as for how long ago it was?” he shrugged. “Time gets a bit tricky in the Night Market.”
I glanced over my shoulder. I couldn’t shake the sensation that we were being followed. The ashen passage before us was not a place I wanted to linger. It took everything in me not to quicken my own steps.
“They smell fear,” Milo said, his tone low.
“Who?”
“The people who died here.”
[[Why haven’t they moved on?]]
[[How many ended up dying here?]]
[[Why was Hazel’s shop unaffected?]]I looked around, expecting to see them standing within the blown out windows. Ghostly specters of a tragedy long ago. There was an eeriness to the confines of each building. A silence that had sentience to it. Each time I thought I saw something moving, my eyes ticked away, my body trying to protect me from seeing anything further.
“Why haven’t they moved on?” I asked. I wondered just how many had been caught in the flames. The alley itself was narrow, and it looked as if there had been no escape except for the entrance up ahead, and Hazel’s patch of woods behind us.
“Dunno,” he murmured. “There’s a lot of confusion about death within the Night Market. A lot of people believe if you die here, you can’t move on. That the Night Market will always have a hold on you.”
I looked at him. “And what do you believe?”
He was silent for a moment, the sound of our feet crunching against loose stone and broken glass. “I believe that you should get yourself some new clothes.”
His answer took me aback as I stared down at my dirty brown tunic and pants. I was sure that despite the slight washing I had done earlier, I still looked a right mess.
“I have no money,” I pointed out to him. I had nothing. Hence, the still dirt encrusted clothing. Wouldn’t that go over well with a courtesan.
Turning on his heel, Milo began walking backwards. I could see a glint in his eye, mischief taking hold. It did not go unnoticed to me how quickly he changed subjects, bordering on too heavy. “What do you say about stealing you a little something?” he asked.
“Stealing?”
“Like you said. You have no money. You are going to go see one of the fanciest women in all the Market. Why not give you a little somethin’ somethin’ to wear."
[[No. It’s fine]]
[[Stealing is wrong]]
[[Yeah. Let’s go steal me something to wear]]I looked around, expecting to see them standing within the blown out windows. Ghostly specters of a tragedy long ago. There was an eeriness to the confines of each building. A silence that had sentience to it. Each time I thought I saw something moving, my eyes ticked away, my body trying to protect me from seeing anything further.
“How many ended up dying here?” I asked. The alley itself was narrow, and it looked as if there had been no other escape except for the entrance up ahead, and Hazel’s patch of woods behind us.
“Dozens” he murmured. “They were all bottled in. It happened without warning and from what I remember the main fire was just up ahead. There was no way for them to even get out.” He looked at the ground, shadows crossing his face. “That the Night Market will always have a hold on you.”
I looked at him. “What do you mean by that?”
He was silent for a moment, the sound of our feet crunching against loose stone and broken glass. “It means that you should get yourself some new clothes.”
His answer took me aback as I stared down at my dirty brown tunic and pants. I was sure that despite the slight washing I had done earlier, I still looked a right mess.
“I have no money,” I pointed out to him. I had nothing. Hence, the still dirt encrusted clothing. Wouldn’t that go over well with a courtesan.
Turning on his heel, Milo began walking backwards. I could see a glint in his eye, mischief taking hold. It did not go unnoticed to me how quickly he changed subjects, bordering on too heavy. “What do you say about stealing you a little something?” he asked.
“Stealing?”
“Like you said. You have no money. You are going to go see one of the fanciest women in all the Market. Why not give you a little somethin’ somethin’ to wear."
[[No. It’s fine]]
[[Stealing is wrong]]
[[Yeah. Let’s go steal me something to wear]]I looked around, expecting to see them standing within the blown out windows. Ghostly specters of a tragedy long ago. There was an eeriness to the confines of each building. A silence that had sentience to it. Each time I thought I saw something moving, my eyes ticked away, my body trying to protect me from seeing anything further.
The alley itself was narrow, and it looked as if there had been no other escape except for the entrance up ahead, and Hazel’s patch of woods behind us. There was little doubt in my mind that the people stuck in the far back of the alley didn’t stand a chance. But then again, Hazel’s looked unaffected.
“Did the fire not reach Hazel’s?” I asked curiously.
Milo stared straight ahead, the sound of his keys jangling against his hip. “It didn’t,” he said. “Thank the Knowing or whoever you believe in. Her and her brother were safe back there. They ran to the water just in case but it never reached the stone gates.”
There was something off about his words. A tightness in his jaw and a dim light in his eyes. “Where were you?” I whispered.
He was silent for a moment, the sound of our feet crunching against loose stone and broken glass. “We should get you some new clothes,” he said.
His answer took me aback as I stared down at my dirty brown tunic and pants. I was sure that despite the slight washing I had done earlier, I still looked a right mess.
“I have no money,” I pointed out to him. I had nothing. Hence, the still dirt encrusted clothing. Wouldn’t that go over well with a courtesan.
Turning on his heel, Milo began walking backwards. I could see a glint in his eye, mischief taking hold. It did not go unnoticed to me how quickly he changed subjects, bordering on too heavy. “What do you say about stealing you a little something?” he asked.
“Stealing?”
“Like you said. You have no money. You are going to go see one of the fanciest women in all the Market. Why not give you a little somethin’ somethin’ to wear.”
[[No. It’s fine]]
[[Stealing is wrong]]
[[Yeah. Let’s go steal me something to wear]]That wasn’t quite what I had been getting at with my concerns but I could see that Milo was completely on board for the matter. “It’s fine,” I assured him. Maybe appearing in my tattered clothes would make me more believable.
We emerged out of the burnt alley and into the courtyard with the three tiered fountain. Wind gently swung the lanterns up above, casting odd light patterns against the cobblestone.
“You sure?” he asked. I half expected him to just go steal them anyway.
“I don’t really want to have another run in with the Velvet Guard.” As we began to see signs of life filtering in from other alleys, I couldn’t help but keep my eye out for those crimson coats.
“Aw, darlin’, you’re with me now. You’re safe as houses.”
“Again, doesn’t make me feel all that comfortable.”
He smirked, one hand coming up to take the cigarette from behind his ear and perch it between his lips. I couldn’t help notice how he never lit it. Just let it sit there.
[[Is there a significance to the cigarette?]]
[[You’re a thief, aren’t you]]
[[Maybe after I get some money, I can just go shopping]]That wasn’t quite what I had been getting at with my concerns but I could see that Milo was completely on board for the matter. “You do know that stealing is illegal.” I frowned. “It is illegal here, right?”
We emerged out of the burnt alley and into the small courtyard with the three tiered fountain. Wind gently swung the lanterns up above, casting odd light patterns against the cobblestone.
“Oh, it’s illegal,” he said with a small skip to his step. “Doesn’t mean its not fun. Besides, we can think of it as a give to the poor situation. You need it. They don’t. Where’s the harm?”
“I don’t really want to have another run in with the Velvet Guard.” As we began to see signs of life filtering in from other alleys, I couldn’t help but keep my eye out for those crimson coats.
“Aw, darlin’, you’re with me now. You’re safe as houses.”
“Again, doesn’t make me feel all that comfortable.”
He smirked, one hand coming up to take the cigarette from behind his ear and perch it between his lips. I couldn’t help notice how he never lit it. Just let it sit there.
[[Is there a significance to the cigarette?]]
[[You’re a thief, aren’t you]]
[[Maybe after I get some money, I can just go shopping]]That wasn’t quite what I had been getting at with my concerns, but I could see that Milo was completely on board for the matter. “You know what? Sure. Let’s go steal me something to wear.”
His eyes lit up with delight as he didn’t hesitate to begin steering me down a separate alley, towards a district that was nearly dripping with fabric. Entire stalls were stacked nearly two stories high with reams of cloth. Their wares ranging from silks to cotton to some odd form of spandex that bordered on chromatic. We had to duck under stretched ropes of newly dyed linen, brushing aside strips of material as they were cut to later be shaped into the latest Night Market fashion.
“Come on,” Milo said. “A bit further down is where all the premade stuff is. We should get you some of that so we don’t have to beg Hazel to sew it.”
The stalls in question were teeming with various colored shirts, pants, skirts and dresses. Elegant blouses sat on finely made busts while accessories littered entire tables. There didn’t seem to be one fashion that stood out among any of the others aside from everything looking to be hand made with touches of gold throughout most of the clothing.
“We’ll keep it simple, yeah?” he said. “Don’t want to attract too much attention. What is your style like?”
[[I liked comfy and casual. Soft pants and shirts|Chapter Two Clothes]]
[[I liked comfy and casual. Soft cotton dresses.|Chapter Two Clothes]]
[[I liked something a bit more fancy. Tailored pants and shirts|Chapter Two Clothes]]
[[I liked something a bit more fancy. Tailored dresses|Chapter Two Clothes]]
[[I just wanted to fit in. I let Milo pick out my pants and shirt|Chapter Two Clothes]]
[[I just wanted to fit in. I let Milo pick out my dress|Chapter Two Clothes]]
Snatching the clothes, Milo casually continued to walk, with me trailing after him. No one paid us much mind. Apparently, the art of theft was all in whether you could act nonchalant afterwards. Milo had the gall to wave to a few familiar faces, using the hand that was now clutching my stolen goods. His smile was wide and crinkled, and I doubted anyone was looking at him for what was in his hands.
As we made our way to a lesser populated alley, he motioned to a gathering of wooden crates. They were large and looked like they contained grain of some sort.
“Change over there,” he said. I took the clothes from him and slipped into the small, shadowed privacy. “We’ll get a bit more specific when you get some capital. Can decide coloring better and actually style, but for now those should work. Much better than the potato sacks you were wearing.”
As I slipped the clothes on, I couldn’t disagree. They were soft and slightly loose against my frame but I already felt ten times cleaner than I had before. Now all I needed was the opportunity to take a bath and wash the rest of the grime from my skin.
Stepping out from behind the crate, Milo whistled. “Much better,” he grinned.
[[Blush at the attention]]
[[Smile and bow in thanks]]
[[I should have done this a while ago]]
Smiling, I gave a theatric bow, turning this way and that to show off my new wares. Milo clapped appropriately, also turning to show off his own clothes, despite having stolen none for himself.
“That’s right, darlin’. Own it. Feel those clothes. Make them work for you.”
“Are you done?” I asked him good naturedly, my hands dropping to my side as I laughed at him.
“Never, Sugar. Not if you keep looking like that.” He stumbled down the alley after me, a hand to his heart. I just shook my head at him, feeling an easy smile come to my face.
“Where did you say Belladonna was located again?” I asked after he was done with his dramatics.
“The good old Pleasure District,” he said, hopping a bit on his feet.
We passed a small alcove with a white birch tree standing proud in the middle. Its boughs reached outwards, each branch dripping with gems that chimed in the soft moonlit breeze. Milo nodded at a few people that we passed but in general, stuck close to me. I could see the lights up above turning more pink and dusty as we continued down the alley, their rays filtering down into something soft. The air smelled of vanilla and the slightest hint of brown sugar, and I could feel my spine tingling and my cheeks becoming flush.
“One more thing,” Milo said, stopping us. “There’s this little thing within the market called ambrosia. It has a… fun effect on people.”
“What kind of effect?”
“Well, you see, think of it as a precautionary tale. You pass the test and you feel real good for a bit. You don’t pass the test, and you drop unconscious.”
“Why would someone not pass the test?” I asked alarmed.
“Because they’re entering the district with ill intent.” There was very little sympathy for those people. As Milo rocked back and forth on his feet, he stared down the alleyway, as if hoping to see one of those ill intent people fall to their knees. “It’s a comupence that is entertaining to watch if you have the time. But, that being said, it can grip some people tight. Don’t really want to cross boundaries here so, this is where I will say adieu.”
[[Yeah, I think I will go down this alley alone]]
[[It can’t be that bad. Come with me]]
My cheeks heated almost embarrassingly easy. I could feel his eyes rake down my body, lingering hungrily at certain points. I swallowed thickly, running my palms down across my newfound clothes, as if to smooth out any wrinkles.
“So you like attention then,” he said, the smile curling his lips, one more predatory than I was used to. “I’ll make sure to note that one, sugar.”
I felt my chest constrict and my heart beat wildly in my chest. Milo had this way about him when he liked what he saw. It was a lazy drawl that felt molten and shot down to my very core. With the way he looked at me, I could tell he knew just what effect his tone had.
Clearing my throat, I stepped back by his side. “Where did you say Belladonna was located again?”
“The Pleasure District,” he purred.
“Right,” I squeaked. “Uh- lead the way.”
We passed a small alcove with a white birch tree standing proud in the middle. Its boughs reached outwards, each branch dripping with gems that chimed in the soft moonlit breeze. Milo nodded at a few people that we passed but in general, stuck close to me. I could see the lights up above turning more pink and dusty as we continued down the alley, their rays filtering down into something soft. The air smelled of vanilla and the slightest hint of brown sugar, and I could feel my spine tingling and my cheeks becoming flush.
“One more thing,” Milo said, stopping us. “There’s this little thing within the market called ambrosia. It has a… fun effect on people.”
“What kind of effect?”
“Well, you see, think of it as a precautionary tale. You pass the test and you feel real good for a bit. You don’t pass the test, and you drop unconscious.”
“Why would someone not pass the test?” I asked alarmed.
“Because they’re entering the district with ill intent.” There was very little sympathy for those people. As Milo rocked back and forth on his feet, he stared down the alleyway, as if hoping to see one of those ill intent people fall to their knees. “It’s a comupence that is entertaining to watch if you have the time. But, that being said, it can grip some people tight. Don’t really want to cross boundaries here so, this is where I will say adieu.”
[[Yeah, I think I will go down this alley alone]]
[[It can’t be that bad. Come with me]]
“I should have done this a while ago,” I told him. “I feel like a new person.”
“Maybe you are,” he said, ambling after me. “Wouldn’t that be something? If we could change who we are just by putting on some new clothes. I think some people can master that. Me, I’ve worn the same outfit for the last hundred years.”
“Hundred?”
He shrugged. “I’m being lenient. More like three hundred.”
“You are not three hundred.”
“Fine. Four hundred. Way to make a man feel old.” He fell into an easy step beside me, matching my pace. The alley was a bit cleaner than what had been near Hazel’s and the smell of old smoke was absent. If anything, the air smelled slightly sweet.
“Thanks for helping me with the clothes,” I told him.
“Thanks for letting me have a bit of fun,” he returned with a shrug. We both looked at each other out of the corner of our eye, not being able to help the small twitch of our lips. Despite the legality of our actions, it felt good to laugh a little. If only for a little while.
“Where did you say Belladonna was located again?” I asked after he was done with his dramatics.
“The good old Pleasure District,” he said, hopping a bit on his feet.
We passed a small alcove with a white birch tree standing proud in the middle. Its boughs reached outwards, each branch dripping with gems that chimed in the soft moonlit breeze. Milo nodded at a few people that we passed but in general, stuck close to me. I could see the lights up above turning more pink and dusty as we continued down the alley, their rays filtering down into something soft. The air smelled of vanilla and the slightest hint of brown sugar, and I could feel my spine tingling and my cheeks becoming flush.
“One more thing,” Milo said, stopping us. “There’s this little thing within the market called ambrosia. It has a… fun effect on people.”
“What kind of effect?”
“Well, you see, think of it as a precautionary tale. You pass the test and you feel real good for a bit. You don’t pass the test, and you drop unconscious.”
“Why would someone not pass the test?” I asked alarmed.
“Because they’re entering the district with ill intent.” There was very little sympathy for those people. As Milo rocked back and forth on his feet, he stared down the alleyway, as if hoping to see one of those ill intent people fall to their knees. “It’s a comupence that is entertaining to watch if you have the time. But, that being said, it can grip some people tight. Don’t really want to cross boundaries here so, this is where I will say adieu.”
[[Yeah, I think I will go down this alley alone]]
[[It can’t be that bad. Come with me]]
“What’s that all about?” I asked, motioning to the cigarette.
His honeyed eyes ticked downwards, almost as if he hadn’t realized what was perched between his lips. Kicking at a stray bit of rock on the ground, he grabbed the cigarette, rolling it between his fingers. Despite his constant use, I could see that he kept it in nearly a pristine condition. There had to be an enchantment over it if it was the same one.
“Habit,” he said after a moment.
“Do you smoke?”
“Not anymore.” He tucked the cigarette away, his eyes remaining forward. For what felt like the first time, a silence settled over him due to his own nature as opposed to my own. It did something to him. It softened his shoulders and gave his face a more mature look than I had expected. I wondered how old everyone was in the Night Market. Or was time a construct that was only acknowledged during moments of maudlin reflection.
“Look, I can’t go in with you to see Belladonna,” he said after a moment. The alley we had entered was cleaner, the flagstone walls painted with a gleaming sheen. Whereas smoke permeated the passage leading away from Hazel’s, here, the air smelled sweet. “I wouldn’t even mention that I sent you.”
“She doesn’t like you, huh?”
“Well, yeah, but, it’s going to be better if she makes a judgement of you based on you. Not based on any association she has with me.” He motioned for us to turn, rounding a sharp corner where a carved out hole housed a small family of field mice. It looked as if they were dining on the latest wares from the Spice District. “Your story is a heartbreaker, for sure. Appeal to that maybe, and she might be prone to go easy on you. If she knows I sent you in, she’s going to think you’re some sort of spy.”
I glanced at him. “But if she’s the eyes and ears of the Night Market, won’t she already know you sent me?”
Milo paused at that, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t think of that.” He shook his head. “Just be yourself. It’s our best bet.”
We passed a small alcove with a white birch tree standing proud in the middle. Its boughs reached outwards, each branch dripping with gems that chimed in the soft moonlit breeze. Milo nodded at a few people that we passed but in general, stuck close to me. I could see the lights up above turning more pink and dusty as we continued down the alley, their rays filtering down into something soft. The air smelled of vanilla and the slightest hint of brown sugar, and I could feel my spine tingling and my cheeks becoming flush.
“One more thing,” Milo said, stopping us. “There’s this little thing within the market called ambrosia. It has a… fun effect on people.”
“What kind of effect?”
“Well, you see, think of it as a precautionary tale. You pass the test and you feel real good for a bit. You don’t pass the test, and you drop unconscious.”
“Why would someone not pass the test?” I asked alarmed.
“Because they’re entering the district with ill intent.” There was very little sympathy for those people. As Milo rocked back and forth on his feet, he stared down the alleyway, as if hoping to see one of those ill intent people fall to their knees. “It’s a comupence that is entertaining to watch if you have the time. But, that being said, it can grip some people tight. Don’t really want to cross boundaries here so, this is where I will say adieu.”
[[Yeah, I think I will go down this alley alone]]
[[It can’t be that bad. Come with me]]
<<set $perception ++>>“You're a legitimate thief, aren’t you.” I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. The amount of keys that jangled on his belt obviously led to somewhere, and Milo didn’t really seem like the kind of guy who paid for most of his goods. No, the closer I looked, I could see small picks and thin slices of different shaped metal and wood on his belt. <<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">> The other day at the beach had been amusing to him because he could have gotten me out in seconds flat.<</if>>
“Thief has such an unkind connotation,” he said. I could see the amusement light his eyes and the small skip in his step.
“What kind of thief are you?” It obviously was not one who dealt in information, or else I’d doubt he would be sending me to Belladonna’s.
“A petty one.”
“I’m serious.”
He snorted in laughter. “I am too.”
For what felt like the first time, a silence settled over him due to his own nature as opposed to my own. It did something to him. It softened his shoulders and gave his face a more mature look than I had expected. I wondered how old everyone was in the Night Market. Or was time a construct that was only acknowledged during moments of maudlin reflection.
“Look, I can’t go in with you to see Belladonna,” he said after a moment. The alley we had entered was cleaner, the flagstone walls painted with a gleaming sheen. Whereas smoke permeated the passage leading away from Hazel’s, here, the air smelled sweet. “I wouldn’t even mention that I sent you.”
“She doesn’t like you, huh?”
“Well, yeah, but, it’s going to be better if she makes a judgement of you based on you. Not based on any association she has with me.” He motioned for us to turn, rounding a sharp corner where a carved out hole housed a small family of field mice. It looked as if they were dining on the latest wares from the Spice District. “Your story is a heartbreaker, for sure. Appeal to that maybe, and she might be prone to go easy on you. If she knows I sent you in, she’s going to think you’re some sort of spy.”
I glanced at him. “But if she’s the eyes and ears of the Night Market, won’t she already know you sent me?”
Milo paused at that, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t think of that.” He shook his head. “Just be yourself. It’s our best bet.”
We passed a small alcove with a white birch tree standing proud in the middle. Its boughs reached outwards, each branch dripping with gems that chimed in the soft moonlit breeze. Milo nodded at a few people that we passed but in general, stuck close to me. I could see the lights up above turning more pink and dusty as we continued down the alley, their rays filtering down into something soft. The air smelled of vanilla and the slightest hint of brown sugar, and I could feel my spine tingling and my cheeks becoming flush.
“One more thing,” Milo said, stopping us. “There’s this little thing within the market called ambrosia. It has a… fun effect on people.”
“What kind of effect?”
“Well, you see, think of it as a precautionary tale. You pass the test and you feel real good for a bit. You don’t pass the test, and you drop unconscious.”
“Why would someone not pass the test?” I asked alarmed.
“Because they’re entering the district with ill intent.” There was very little sympathy for those people. As Milo rocked back and forth on his feet, he stared down the alleyway, as if hoping to see one of those ill intent people fall to their knees. “It’s a comupence that is entertaining to watch if you have the time. But, that being said, it can grip some people tight. Don’t really want to cross boundaries here so, this is where I will say adieu.”
[[Yeah, I think I will go down this alley alone]]
[[It can’t be that bad. Come with me]]
“Maybe after I get some money, I can shop for some better clothes,” I told him. If I was going to be staying here for any set of time, I was going to need a few things. And, I could admit, I was insanely curious about what was considered fashionable within the Night Market. What wares they even had to offer.
“Just take someone with you so you don’t get screwed,” he said. “The money system here is absolutely ridiculous.”
“What is the money here? I’ve heard it referred to as a few things.”
“You have bits, you have coin, you have acts of service, secret trade, basic trade, cogs, fulia, etc. Each shop owner has something they prefer, no one knows the conversion rate, so if you are not careful, buying a simple ham sandwich will cost you a month's rent.” Digging into his pockets, he pulled out an assortment of metals and buttons that I did not recognize, some of them looking old and tarnished while others seemingly shifting beneath the lantern light. “These are the main ones,” he told me, pointing out each. “I would only deal in bits, coin and fulia if you can.”
As he tucked them back in, I shook my head. It was almost certain that this would not be the first thing that would come up that would send me into an all out confusion.
“Hazel will help you,” he assured at the expression on my face.
For what felt like the first time, a silence settled over him due to his own nature as opposed to my own. It did something to him. It softened his shoulders and gave his face a more mature look than I had expected. I wondered how old everyone was in the Night Market. Or was time a construct that was only acknowledged during moments of maudlin reflection.
“Look, I can’t go in with you to see Belladonna,” he said after a moment. The alley we had entered was cleaner, the flagstone walls painted with a gleaming sheen. Whereas smoke permeated the passage leading away from Hazel’s, here, the air smelled sweet. “I wouldn’t even mention that I sent you.”
“She doesn’t like you, huh?”
“Well, yeah, but, it’s going to be better if she makes a judgement of you based on you. Not based on any association she has with me.” He motioned for us to turn, rounding a sharp corner where a carved out hole housed a small family of field mice. It looked as if they were dining on the latest wares from the Spice District. “Your story is a heartbreaker, for sure. Appeal to that maybe, and she might be prone to go easy on you. If she knows I sent you in, she’s going to think you’re some sort of spy.”
I glanced at him. “But if she’s the eyes and ears of the Night Market, won’t she already know you sent me?”
Milo paused at that, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t think of that.” He shook his head. “Just be yourself. It’s our best bet.”
We passed a small alcove with a white birch tree standing proud in the middle. Its boughs reached outwards, each branch dripping with gems that chimed in the soft moonlit breeze. Milo nodded at a few people that we passed but in general, stuck close to me. I could see the lights up above turning more pink and dusty as we continued down the alley, their rays filtering down into something soft. The air smelled of vanilla and the slightest hint of brown sugar, and I could feel my spine tingling and my cheeks becoming flush.
“One more thing,” Milo said, stopping us. “There’s this little thing within the market called ambrosia. It has a… fun effect on people.”
“What kind of effect?”
“Well, you see, think of it as a precautionary tale. You pass the test and you feel real good for a bit. You don’t pass the test, and you drop unconscious.”
“Why would someone not pass the test?” I asked alarmed.
“Because they’re entering the district with ill intent.” There was very little sympathy for those people. As Milo rocked back and forth on his feet, he stared down the alleyway, as if hoping to see one of those ill intent people fall to their knees. “It’s a comupence that is entertaining to watch if you have the time. But, that being said, it can grip some people tight. Don’t really want to cross boundaries here so, this is where I will say adieu.”
[[Yeah, I think I will go down this alley alone]]
[[It can’t be that bad. Come with me]]
“And with that, I think I’ll be going down the alley alone.”
Sensing that I was ready, Milo nodded towards the opening of the alley where a wall of green hedges stood, blocking my entrance. “Go right through the main courtyard until you reach a rose gold building with gates made of hibiscus. Around back, is another courtyard, filled with cherry blossom trees. You’ll see a few intricately carved panels and a guard standing by them. Belladonna’s office is there.”
“And how do I get a meeting with her? I can’t just walk right in.”
“You seek her humble advice. Also, please does go a long way.” He smiled encouragingly at me, making no move to follow. “I’ll wait for you to get back out. Make sure you can get back to Hazel’s. Take your time, though. And when you get further in that alley, just breathe. Don’t panic. It’ll be over pretty quick.”
“The ambrosia?” I asked. When I turned back, he was already walking away, whistling as he departed.
Taking a deep breath I began walking towards the arched door that led to the district itself. My eyes felt sticky with heat and my skin suddenly felt overly warm. I could feel it then. The ambrosia started trailing through my thoughts, clouding my judgement and seeking something out. I breathed, just as Milo suggested, feeling sweat prick against my skin and my heartbeat pick up.
Down the alley, I saw the undulating forms of two people. Two that had not even made it to the district before their clothes were discarded and they took their stolen moment in the dark. My pupils dilated as I forced myself to turn away, standing still and breathing. Just breathing.
It passed just as quick as it came, leaving a sticky film across my skin. It smelled like burnt sugar and spun like cotton within my thoughts. But I felt in control. Whatever test that the ambrosia had put me through, I had blessidly passed.
Ignoring the soft moans that were echoing around me, I set my eyes on the district. “Here we go.” Holding my breath, I stepped forward.
[[Next|Chapter Two Belladonna]]
“It can’t be that bad,” I said, staring down the alley in front of us. I could hear the telling sound of a giggle as two women disappeared into the dark, pressed against each other. “Just come with me.”
Milo arched a brow. “Alright, darlin’. Your wish is my command.”
We were not five feet into the alley before my back was pressed against the wall, both of Milo’s arms boxing in on either side of me. I could feel my breath stutter in my chest at the way he stared down at me. His amber eyes now dark and blown. His head ducked down a bit, looking down into my $eyecolor eyes, his lips parted in a heated rush. He didn’t touch me, but as my fingers curled against the wall behind me, I almost wished he would.
“That was quick.” I swallowed thickly, feeling something heady cloud my mind, searching me out and wrapping around me in heated pleasure. The muscles in his arm were well-defined, his shirt rolled up just passed his elbow and straining against the expanse of skin that now looked nearly lickable.
“Focus, darlin’,” he purred. My eyes snapped back towards him and there was an almost feral grin on his face. “Acknowledge right now what you are feeling and know that it is an aphrodisiac. Once you do that, it doesn’t control you any further. Unless you plan on doing something untowards to me, that is.” He raised an eyebrow in deep question.
For a moment, his words were nothing more than a muffled confusion. Then, it snapped into place. The heat that boiled in my belly didn’t dissipate, but my vision no longer felt clouded by it.
[[What the fuck?]]
[[Squirm with how your body responded]]
[[Okay, that doesn't seem all together right]]Blinking the haze from my eyes, I looked up at him. “What the fuck was that?” I could feel something coil around me as my skin itched for the need to touch. It was nothing more than the feather-light touch of arousal, and was dissipating the more I acknowledged what was happening. The very fact that it was in the air however, caused a tremendous amount of discomfort to lash at my brain.
“Ambrosia is filtered through the night air in the Pleasure District,” Milo explained evenly. “It can make you warm and fluttery, like it seems to have done to you. Or, it can make you pass out drunk.”
I felt my body sway and hoped I wasn’t one of the pass out drunk ones.
“Don’t worry,” Milo assured. “The pass out drunk is saved for those that shouldn’t be here to begin with. It's kind of fun seeing the Velvet Guard come take them away. They're not gentle. The second their head hits the floor, they are convicted. No second chances.”
I swallowed around the rapid beat of my heart. “Alright, that’s comforting at least. But what just happened to me,” I frowned at him. “That’s not right. You guys have some problematic shit here in the Night Market.
“Yes we do. But give it a minute,” he said, “it’ll pass, and it only happens to you if you are new here. Well, not the whole knock out the asshole's thing. That just happens. But I didn’t want you walking in there not knowing what’s going on. There are a few greeters that tell you as such, so you don’t make any choices against your will, but, I wanted to handle this one myself.”
I closed my eyes. He was right. The intense heat that had built so quickly was already ebbing. I ticked my eyes to the arms that still boxed in around me. “So you’re not being controlled right now?”
He grinned. “Nope.”
[[Shove him away]]
[[Indulge in the ambrosia for a moment longer (kiss him)]]
[[Does anything happen against someone's will?]]Blinking the haze from my eyes, I looked up at him. “What was that?” I could feel something coil around me as my skin itched for the need to touch. It was nothing more than the feather-light touch of arousal, and was dissipating the more I acknowledged what was happening. I squirmed against the wall, my body twisting in the confines of his arms involuntarily. I could feel my face heat at my reactions and tried to breathe through my nose.
“Ambrosia is filtered through the night air in the pleasure district,” Milo explained. “It can make you warm and fluttery, like it seems to have done to you. Or, it can make you pass out drunk if you are filled with some ill intentions.”
“Ill intentions?”
“If anyone, absolutely anyone, comes in here with the intent to harm or control another, they pass out where they stand and the Velvet Guard gets to come take them away. The second their head hits the floor, they are convicted. No second chances.”
I swallowed around the rapid beat of my heart. “But for me…?”
“Give it a minute,” he said, “it’ll pass. Just didn’t want you walking in there not knowing what’s going on. There are a few greeters that tell you as such, so you don’t make any choices against your will, but, I wanted to handle this one myself.”
I closed my eyes. He was right. The intense heat that had built so quickly was already ebbing. I ticked my eyes to the arms that still boxed in around me. “So you’re not being controlled right now?”
He grinned. “Nope.”
[[Shove him away]]
[[Indulge in the ambrosia for a moment longer (kiss him)]]
[[Does anything happen against someone's will?]]Blinking the haze from my eyes, I looked up at him. “You’re going to need to explain what just happened because from where I’m standing, this is kind of a problem.” I could feel something coil around me as my skin itched for the need to touch. It was nothing more than the feather-light touch of arousal, and was dissipating the more I acknowledged what was happening. The very fact that it was in the air, however, caused a tremendous amount of discomfort to lash at my brain.
“Ambrosia is filtered through the night air in the pleasure district,” Milo explained evenly. “It can make you warm and fluttery, like it seems to have done to you. Or, it can make you pass out drunk if you are filled with some ill intentions.”
“Ill intentions?”
“If anyone, absolutely anyone, comes in here with the intent to harm or control another, they pass out where they stand and the Velvet Guard gets to come take them away. The second their head hits the floor, they are convicted. No second chances.”
I swallowed around the rapid beat of my heart. “Alright, that’s comforting at least. But what just happened to me,” I frowned at him. “That’s not right. You guys have some sketchy things here in the Night Market.
“Yes we do. But give it a minute,” he said, “it’ll pass, and it only happens to you if you are new here. Well, not the whole knock out the asshole's thing. That just happens. But I didn’t want you walking in there not knowing what’s going on. There are a few greeters that tell you as such, so you don’t make any choices against your will, but, I wanted to handle this one myself.”
“So you’re not being controlled right now?”
He grinned. “Nope.”
I closed my eyes. He was right. The intense heat that had built so quickly was already ebbing. I ticked my eyes to the arms that still boxed in around me.
[[Shove him away]]
[[Indulge in the ambrosia for a moment longer (kiss him)]]
[[Does anything happen against someone's will?]]
I didn’t wait. I shoved him as hard as I could and watched with satisfaction as he stumbled backwards and hit the wall behind him. He winced a little in pain, but overall looked impressed by my show of strength.
“I might need to explain this situation a bit,” he said, holding a hand gingerly to his side.
“You can explain it from over there."
He nodded, making a face that seemed to denote he wasn’t all together surprised by the sentiment. “What just happened to you is a very short side effect of making sure that no one within the Pleasure District is harmed. Measures are put in place to explain ambrosia to you the second you enter the district for the first time as well. Do not be surprised if on the other side of these walls, someone gives you a pamphlet.”
I rubbed at my eyes, feeling them sticky and heated.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Milo continued. “There are people who are aware of it and walk in to willingly succumb to it. It is the Pleasure District, after all. But the magic is intuitive and tends to read the truth within people.”
“Right,” I said with a brief nod. I didn’t really have time to examine the morality of the issue at hand, and instead knew I needed to continue on with what I set out to do.
Sensing that I was ready, Milo nodded towards the opening of the alley where a wall of green hedges stood, blocking my entrance. “Go right through the main courtyard until you reach a rose gold building with gates made of hibiscus. Around back, is another courtyard, filled with plum cheery blossoms. You’ll see a few intricately carved panels and two guards standing by them. Belladonna’s office is there.”
“And how do I get a meeting with her? I can’t just walk right in.”
“You seek her humble advice. Also, please does go a long way.” He smiled encouragingly at me, making no move to follow. I was on my own for this meeting and could feel a slight amount of nerves mix with the lingering effects of the ambrosia.
"I guess that's all there is left to do then," I said. Without sparing him a glance, I made my way down the alley and to the entrance of the district.
[[Next|Chapter Two Belladonna]]With his head dipped down, his lips parted, his tongue sneaking out to wet them. I followed the wet line of it, feeling my breath catch in my throat. It was the ambrosia. It was only the ambrosia that was making me loose limbed and weak at the knees. But would it be so bad to allow myself a moment of perfect warmth? Even if it wasn’t real?
I grabbed at the back of Milo’s head, my fingers gripping the shorts strands of curled hair near the base of his skull. Pulling him forward, I pressed my lips firmly to his. It was all the encouragement he needed.
Grabbing my hips, Milo pushed himself flush against me. I could feel him near the crease of my hip as he pushed his hands through my hair and angled my head in just such a way that allowed him better access to my mouth. His tongue sought out my own, consuming me in a whirl of heat and bruising hands. I panted against him as he puled back for a moment, catching what little air I could before he was back at me, a low and heady moan escaping his lips. His hands felt like fire as they ran up and down my body and a thigh snaked between my own.
I couldn’t help it. I felt consumed. Tipping my head back I gasped in pleasure, feeling my own hips twitch against his own.
Then he was gone. The hard lines of his torso were suddenly replaced with the cool night air as the two of us stood on opposite sides of the alley, panting. His eyes were wide, staring at me.
“Well,” he said, his hands curled against the wall behind him as if to keep him from launching himself at me again. “I didn’t expect that.
[[Neither did I]]
[[I am so sorry]]
[[I wouldn't mind it again]]
<<set $milokiss to "true">>“Does anything happen here against someone's wishes?” I asked. I had to make it clear. I needed to process the information, so I could stay safe. And, the answer would only help further my understanding and my perception of the Night Market.
Milo pushed away from the wall, pressing his back to the opposite side of the alley. “No,” he said firmly. “What just happened to you is a very short side effect of making sure that no one within the Pleasure District is harmed. Measures are put in place to explain ambrosia to you the second you enter the district for the first time as well. Do not be surprised if passed these gates, someone tries to explain it to you.”
I rubbed at my eyes, feeling them sticky and heated.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Milo continued. “There are people who are aware of it and walk in to willingly succumb to it. It is the Pleasure District, after all. But the magic is intuitive and tends to read the truth within people.”
“Right,” I said with a brief nod. I didn’t really have time to examine the morality of the issue at hand, and instead knew I needed to continue on with what I set out to do.
Sensing that I was ready, Milo nodded towards the opening of the alley where a wall of green hedges stood, blocking my entrance. “Go right through the main courtyard until you reach a rose gold building with gates made of hibiscus. Around back, is another courtyard, filled with cherry blossom trees. You’ll see a few intricately carves panels and a guard standing by them. Belladonna’s office is there.”
“And how do I get a meeting with her? I can’t just walk right in.”
“You seek her humble advice. Also, please does go a long way.” He smiled encouragingly at me, making no move to follow. I was on my own for this meeting and could feel a slight amount of nerves mix with the lingering effects of the ambrosia.
"Wish me luck then," I said with a steadying breath. Sparing him only a glance, I walked the rest of the way down the alley.
[[Next|Chapter Two Belladonna]]
It had not exactly been the first thing I had thought I would be doing when I woke up this morning. My lips still tingled from where he nipped at them and the stark lines of his body felt like they were burned against my skin.
“Neither did I,” I told him, surprise coloring my voice. I could feel the pulse of ambrosia, making everything feel more pleasurable, but I knew my actions were mine and mine alone.
“For the record,” he said, his lips swollen and kiss bitten. “I didn’t mind. Just wondering if maybe the ambrosia got to me too.” He had gotten carried away. I could see it on his face. I had kissed him but he looked surprised that he so readily kissed me back.
“Right,” I said with a brief nod. I didn’t really have time to examine what exactly my actions just meant. I needed to continue on with what I set out to do.
Sensing that I was ready, Milo nodded towards the opening of the alley where a wall of green hedges stood, blocking my entrance. “Go right through the main courtyard until you reach a rose gold building with gates made of hibiscus. Around back, is another courtyard, filled with cherry blossom trees. You’ll see a few intricately carves panels and a guard standing by them. Belladonna’s office is there.”
“And how do I get a meeting with her? I can’t just walk right in.”
“You seek her humble advice. Also, please does go a long way.” He smiled encouragingly at me, making no move to follow. I was on my own for this meeting and could feel a slight amount of nerves mix with the lingering effects of the ambrosia. Milo’s kiss was still warm against my tongue.
"Wish me luck then," I said with a steadying breath. Sparing him only a glance, I walked the rest of the way down the alley.
[[Next|Chapter Two Belladonna]]
My $eyecolor eyes were wide and bright as I stared at him. I wasn’t sure when I had made the decision to grab him and kiss him, but it had happened, and it had happened incredibly quick.
“I am so sorry,” I said, feeling embarrassment flood me. Milo only looked at me, though, slightly out of breath.
“Why?”
“I just jumped you,” I said, a high-pitched quality to my voice now. It caused a rumble of laughter to sound from him.
“I didn’t exactly push you away,” he commented, his words strung with a bit of surprise from his own actions. In fact, he had pressed himself closer. He had gripped me, surrounded me, until I knew nothing but the smell of him. If Milo had been someone unappreciative of my actions, I doubt I would have gotten that far.
“Right,” I said with a brief nod. I didn’t really have time to examine what exactly my actions just meant. I needed to continue on with what I set out to do.
Sensing that I was ready, Milo nodded towards the opening of the alley where a wall of green hedges stood, blocking my entrance. “Go right through the main courtyard until you reach a rose gold building with gates made of hibiscus. Around back, is another courtyard, filled with cherry blossom trees. You’ll see a few intricately carves panels and a guard standing by them. Belladonna’s office is there.”
“And how do I get a meeting with her? I can’t just walk right in.”
“You seek her humble advice. Also, please does go a long way.” He smiled encouragingly at me, making no move to follow. I was on my own for this meeting and could feel a slight amount of nerves mix with the lingering effects of the ambrosia. Milo’s kiss was still warm against my tongue.
"Wish me luck then," I said with a steadying breath. Sparing him only a glance, I walked the rest of the way down the alley.
[[Next|Chapter Two Belladonna]]
My $eyecolor eyes were wide and bright as I stared at him. I wasn’t sure when I had made the decision to grab him and kiss him, but it had happened, and it had happened incredibly quick. Though now that he was away from me, and the rapid beat of my heart was the only thing I felt pressed against my chest, I was all too aware that I hadn’t wanted it to end.
“I didn’t mind it,” I told him hesitantly, unsure where he stood. He was a flirt, sure, but it could have all been for show. When I gained the courage to look him in the eye, I saw nothing but heat there still.
“Sugar, anytime you want to do that, I am more than willing.” His voice dipped into that low purr again. That drawl that caused my belly to tighten and my breath to catch in my throat. I could see it though. There was confusion in his eyes. He was narrowing his gaze at me as if he too was trying to figure out what had just happened.
“Right,” I said with a brief nod. I didn’t really have time to examine what exactly my actions just meant. I needed to continue on with what I set out to do.
Sensing that I was ready, Milo nodded towards the opening of the alley where a wall of green hedges stood, blocking my entrance. “Go right through the main courtyard until you reach a rose gold building with gates made of hibiscus. Around back, is another courtyard, filled with cherry blossom trees. You’ll see a few intricately carves panels and a guard standing by them. Belladonna’s office is there.”
“And how do I get a meeting with her? I can’t just walk right in.”
“You seek her humble advice. Also, please does go a long way.” He smiled encouragingly at me, making no move to follow. I was on my own for this meeting and could feel a slight amount of nerves mix with the lingering effects of the ambrosia. Milo’s kiss was still warm against my tongue.
"Wish me luck then," I said with a steadying breath. Sparing him only a glance, I walked the rest of the way down the alley.
[[Next|Chapter Two Belladonna]]
As I emerged from the alley, I could smell the sweet scent of ambrosia through the air. It clung to the wind like a film of iridescent glitter, wafting around in an elegant swirl. Large hedges locked in the majority of the district, their green plumage reaching up towards the swaying rose colored lanterns above, while gazebos filled with wisteria and magnolias were tucked among small motes of lavender water with swimming koi. Benches of porcelain white were carved and stationed through a winding maze where several people lay in repose. My eyes widened as I saw couples pressed against each other, their cheeks flushed with a familiar heat, their heads tilted back in a moan.
I swallowed, trying to advert my eyes, but the soft sighs that clung to the wind swam towards me in a lover's coax. The path beneath my feet was paved in white marble with thin lines of rose gold woven through each lightning crack. The paths themselves were lined with night blooming jasmine, the heady scent of flowers lingering all around me.
I could see the building Milo mentioned, just past a large water feature and through the dripping boughs of ivy and willow. The building gleamed beneath the lamp light, standing tall and large, its steps spanning upwards in an ascension of alabaster stone before coiling into a courtyard filled with waltzing forms and copulating figures, hidden only by the barest of shadows.
Milo had said to go around, though. To walk around towards the back. My eyes flickered towards a smaller path, just as pristine, but one that slowly bled into a deep obsidian.
It was quieter back here. The garden made of darker green hedges with maroon hydrangea and stocks of phlox bordering each corner. The screens were artfully placed, wooden panels with swirling designs carved upon them. The light from within flickered through, casting the courtyard into a dazzling display of fractal illumination that danced in mockery of the heady couples out front.
Two guards stood near the entrance, positioned at the mouth of the screens. They were not dressed in the same garb that I was used to with the Velvet Guard. Instead, they were in simple black. Both looked androgynous in nature, their clothes winding strips of silk that hinted at expanses of pale and creamy skin but ultimately gave nothing away.
“Um, hello,” I said, giving a small wave and then kicking myself as their crimson eyes turned to me. They hadn’t even noticed I was there. “I’m here to see Belladonna Malady?”
“Appointment?” A soft, yet husky voice came from the dark haired guard. A cascade of finely spun silken hair reached down to nearly their ankles.
[[I don’t have one]]
[[I'm here for her guidance, please]]
[[I can make one and come back]]“I don’t have one,” I told them truthfully. “But it is important that I see her.”
“If you do not have an appointment, move along,” the other guard said dismissively.
I wasn’t going back out there. If this Belladonna was my best chance, then I was absolutely going to see her today. I just couldn’t give up. The guards set before me were clearly forms of intimidation. I needed to not bow to that and refused to leave until they let me pass.
“I was led to believe that Belladonna Malady was willing to help me.”
“You were led to believe something wrong. If you do not have an appointment, then you need to turn and walk away.”
Swallowing, I held my chin up high. “I might have a story she is interested in.” I didn’t know the details of my story, but everyone else seemed curious about how I came to be. If she was a woman working in the bounds of information, meeting with me might just give her something to use in the future.
The guard with the silken hair was before me in a flash, their red eyes deep and nearly weeping. I felt myself recoil, but they grabbed my shoulders, locking gazes with my own. I tried not to blink. I didn’t think I could even move. Their grip was icy, and their chest was still with lack of breath. I glanced the sharp edges of white canines, pearly and pointed.
“Stand down, darling,” a voice wove from within. And just like that, their hands released me and they stepped away.
“You may go through.”
I didn’t wait. I slid past the guard and the one still standing by the door, and through the opening of the wood carved panels.
The panels were pressed together three passages deep, guiding me to walk around sharp turned corners, while soft light of spun gold shone through each carved hole. When I finally emerged from them, I came upon a room that I had not been suspecting. A large hot spring was in the back, its steam curling from the heated stone in wafts of pink and purple. Near it, was a sunken area that was inlaid with soft pillows and blankets, the ground a mattress.
I could see what looked like an office off to the side, a few shelves lined with dusty tomes and a mahogany desk that sat under a lace parasol of diffused black light. Then, a tea table. It was made of green wrought iron and was situated near a large roaring hearth.
“Hello.”
I jumped. The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once and sent a chill up my spine. A woman stood near the fireplace, where she had most certainly not stood before. A gown of black silk draped across her pale skin, dipping down to show ample cleavage and slitting high enough up to expose one creamy thigh. Her hair shifted between fiery red and soft ginger depending on the way the light hit her. I couldn’t help but notice how deathly still she stood.
[[Hello]]
[[You must be Belladonna]]
[[Well you are terrifying]]
[[Holy crap you're pretty]]“I need her guidance,” I said. “I was led to believe she might have information about something that is happening to me. I was told that if anyone within the Night Market could help me, it would be her. Please I just…”
The guards moved aside.
I blinked at them. Their crimson stares were fixed straight ahead, but it looked as if I could just walk right on through without much more explanation. But what was it that I was told about her. Please goes a long way?
I didn’t dare question in as I tentatively moved by the two guards. They didn’t even flinch as I brushed past them.
The panels were pressed together three passages deep, guiding me to walk around sharp turned corners, while soft light of spun gold shone through each carved hole. When I finally emerged from them, I came upon a room that I had not been suspecting. A large hot spring was in the back, its steam curling from the heated stone in wafts of pink and purple. Near it, was a sunken area that was inlaid with soft pillows and blankets, the ground a mattress.
I could see what looked like an office off to the side, a few shelves lined with dusty tomes and a mahogany desk that sat under a lace parasol of diffused black light. Then, a tea table. It was made of green wrought iron and was situated near a large roaring hearth.
“Hello.”
I jumped. The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once and sent a chill up my spine. A woman stood near the fireplace, where she had most certainly not stood before. A gown of black silk draped across her pale skin, dipping down to show ample cleavage and slitting high enough up to expose one creamy thigh. Her hair shifted between fiery red and soft ginger depending on the way the light hit her. I couldn’t help but notice how deathly still she stood.
[[Hello]]
[[You must be Belladonna]]
[[Well you are terrifying]]
[[Holy crap you're pretty]] While I knew what I was here for, I didn’t want to press it. I could see the way their eyes shifted and how they would be on me in a flash.
Ducking my head, I took a step back. “Of course. Could you just tell me how to maybe make that appointment? I can absolutely-”
The guard with the silken hair was suddenly in front of me, their red eyes deep and nearly weeping. I felt myself recoil, but they grabbed my shoulders, locking gazes with my own. I tried not to blink. I didn’t think I could even move. Their grip was icy, and their chest was still with lack of breath. I glanced the sharp edges of white canines, pearly and pointed.
“Stand down, darling,” a voice wove from within. And just like that, their hands released me and they stepped away.
“You may go through.”
I didn’t wait. I slid past the guard and the one still standing by the door, and through the opening of the wood carved panels.
The panels were pressed together three passages deep, guiding me to walk around sharp turned corners, while soft light of spun gold shone through each carved hole. When I finally emerged from them, I came upon a room that I had not been suspecting. A large hot spring was in the back, its steam curling from the heated stone in wafts of pink and purple. Near it, was a sunken area that was inlaid with soft pillows and blankets, the ground a mattress.
I could see what looked like an office off to the side, a few shelves lined with dusty tomes and a mahogany desk that sat under a lace parasol of diffused black light. Then, a tea table. It was made of green wrought iron and was situated near a large roaring hearth.
“Hello.”
I jumped. The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once and sent a chill up my spine. A woman stood near the fireplace, where she had most certainly not stood before. A gown of black silk draped across her pale skin, dipping down to show ample cleavage and slitting high enough up to expose one creamy thigh. Her hair shifted between fiery red and soft ginger depending on the way the light hit her. I couldn’t help but notice how deathly still she stood.
[[Hello]]
[[You must be Belladonna]]
[[Well you are terrifying]]
[[Holy crap you're pretty]]“Hello,” I returned.
Her smile was careful and calculated as she walked over to the tea table. “Please,” she said. “Sit. Allow me to pour you some tea.” I wasn’t sure if it was the sheer magnetism of the woman or if there was something else at work, but I felt my feet shuffle forward, and I slumped down into a chair before I could think much else of it.
“I’m Belladonna,” she said, a small knowing smile playing delicately across her lips. “But I’m sure that is not new information to you.” She looked at me through the thick of her lashes, something soft and coy falling across her face as she brushed a lock of ginger hair from her eyes.
The tea itself was burgundy, poured into a floral tea cup of midnight blue with small wings of gold around the handle. She did not speak as she poured, allowing the clinking of china to mingle with the caressing pop of the fire.
“Sugar?” she asked.
“Yes please.”
She smiled, lowering a dark brown cube of sugar into my tea and stirring it for me. I stared at it, mesmerized. Her black nails were long and matte, curling around the small golden teaspoon in supreme elegance. When she sighed, I felt it through my very soul.
“You poor thing. The Night Market has taken true hold of you, it seems.”
I snapped my gaze upwards, watching as she set the spoon aside and moved around me towards the seat across the way. Every footstep was precise and elegant, a far cry from the rough edges of the rest of the market.
I watched as she picked up her own teacup, despite not having seen her even prepare one for herself. The liquid was nearly black with a thickness to it that was unlike mine. I didn’t dare question what she held between her hands.
“You have questions, I presume,” she uttered.
[[I seem to have suddenly forgot them]]
[[I need to find a way back home]]
[[I have so many questions but don't know where to begin]]
[[Do I need to state whether I will be sleeping with you or not?]]
“I take it you are Belladonna?” There was no doubt as to who was standing before me. The sheer presence of the woman was nearly overwhelming. No wonder she made her living in trade of secrets. It was clear that the craft of prying any number of things out of people, would not be hard for her to do.
Her smile was careful and calculated as she walked over to the tea table. “Please,” she said. “Sit. Allow me to pour you some tea.” I wasn’t sure if it was the sheer magnetism of the woman or if there was something else at work, but I felt my feet amble forward, and I slumped down into a chair before I could think much else of it.
“Obedient. Interesting.” She looked at me through the thick of her lashes, something soft and coy falling across her face as she brushed a lock of ginger hair from her eyes.
“I find that listening has been one of the few ways I have come to sit before you now.” Albeit, my form of listening was probably a loose term.
“Listening is an art form,” she said. “Not many people do it, but many think they are skilled at the act.”
The tea itself was burgundy, poured into a floral tea cup of midnight blue with small wings of gold around the handle. She did not speak as she poured, allowing the clinking of china to mingle with the caressing pop of the fire.
“Sugar?” she asked.
“Yes please.”
She smiled, lowering a dark brown cube of sugar into my tea and stirring it for me. I stared at it, mesmerized. Her black nails were long and matte, curling around the small golden teaspoon in supreme elegance. When she sighed, I felt it through my very soul.
“You poor thing. The Night Market has taken true hold of you, it seems.”
I snapped my gaze upwards, watching as she set the spoon aside and moved around me towards the seat across the way. Every footstep was precise and elegant, a far cry from the rough edges of the rest of the market.
I watched as she picked up her own teacup, despite not having seen her even prepare one for herself. The liquid was nearly black, with a thickness to it that was unlike mine. I didn’t dare question what she held between her hands.
“You have questions, I presume,” she uttered.
[[I seem to have suddenly forgot them]]
[[I need to find a way back home]]
[[I have so many questions but don't know where to begin]]
[[Do I need to state whether I will be sleeping with you or not?]]
I swallowed thickly, feeling fear coil against me where once the ambrosia sat. “Well, you are terrifying,” I blurted out. I nearly winced at the onslaught that was for sure coming from my rudeness, resigning myself to run and find information elsewhere. But instead, I heard her laughter. Something light and airy that settled around me in a tingling breeze.
“You would not be the first to think so,” she said. “Though, not many are brave enough to say it out loud. It’s refreshing.” Stepping forward, she gestured towards the tea table. “Please,” she said. “Sit. Allow me to pour you some tea.” I wasn’t sure if it was the sheer magnetism of the woman or if there was something else at work, but I felt my feet amble forward, and I slumped down into a chair before I could think much else of it.
“Obedient and brave. Interesting.” She looked at me through the thick of her lashes, something soft and coy falling across her face as she brushed a lock of ginger hair from her eyes. “As I am sure you already know, I am Belladonna Malady. Courtesan within the Pleasure District and absolutely at your service.” Her words were as honeyed and thick, and coated the room in a heady pleasure.
The tea itself was burgundy, poured into a floral tea cup of midnight blue with small wings of gold around the handle. She did not speak as she poured, allowing the clinking of china to mingle with the caressing pop of the fire.
“Sugar?” she asked.
“Yes please.”
She smiled, lowering a dark brown cube of sugar into my tea and stirring it for me. I stared at it, mesmerized. Her black nails were long and matte, curling around the small golden teaspoon in supreme elegance. When she sighed, I felt it through my very soul.
“You poor thing. The Night Market has taken true hold of you, it seems.”
I snapped my gaze upwards, watching as she set the spoon aside and moved around me towards the seat across the way. Every footstep was precise and elegant, a far cry from the rough edges of the rest of the market.
I watched as she picked up her own teacup, despite not having seen her even prepare one for herself. The liquid was nearly black, with a thickness to it that was unlike mine. I didn’t dare question what she held between her hands.
“You have questions, I presume,” she uttered.
[[I seem to have suddenly forgot them]]
[[I need to find a way back home]]
[[I have so many questions but don't know where to begin]]
[[Do I need to state whether I will be sleeping with you or not?]]
The heat rose to my cheeks in a deep blush as I stared at her openly. “Holy crap, you’re pretty,” I blurted out. She had the longest legs I had ever seen, shapely and perfect, leading up to ample hips and a generous bosom. I felt my heart quicken at the very sight of her and suspected that Belladonna Malady would at the very least make you question everything you’ve ever believed. Then, once you were done with your sexual crisis, you’d end up thanking her for it.
“You are absolutely darling,” she responded. Her gold eyes flashed a deep crimson for a moment as her lips curled into a smile that showed the pearls of her teeth. Stepping forward, she gestured towards the tea table. “Please,” she said. “Sit. Allow me to pour you some tea.” I wasn’t sure if it was the sheer magnetism of the woman or if there was something else at work, but I felt my feet amble forward, and I slumped down into a chair before I could think much else of it.
“Obedient and darling. My favorite combination.” She looked at me through the thick of her lashes, something soft and coy falling across her face as she brushed a lock of ginger hair from her eyes. “As I am sure you already know, I am Belladonna Malady. Courtesan within the Pleasure District and absolutely at your service.” Her words were as honeyed and thick, and coated the room in a heady pleasure.
The tea itself was burgundy, poured into a floral tea cup of midnight blue with small wings of gold around the handle. She did not speak as she poured, allowing the clinking of china to mingle with the caressing pop of the fire.
“Sugar?” she asked.
“Yes please.” I felt like I would do anything for her. If the woman asked me to get on my knees now, I would have.
She smiled, lowering a dark brown cube of sugar into my tea and stirring it for me. I stared at it, mesmerized. Her black nails were long and matte, curling around the small golden teaspoon in supreme elegance. When she sighed, I felt it through my very soul.
“You poor thing. The Night Market has taken true hold of you, it seems.”
I snapped my gaze upwards, watching as she set the spoon aside and moved around me towards the seat across the way. Every footstep was precise and elegant, a far cry from the rough edges of the rest of the market.
I watched as she picked up her own teacup, despite not having seen her even prepare one for herself. The liquid was nearly black, with a thickness to it that was unlike mine. I didn’t dare question what she held between her hands.
“You have questions, I presume,” she uttered.
[[I seem to have suddenly forgot them]]
[[I need to find a way back home]]
[[I have so many questions but don't know where to begin]]
[[Do I need to state whether I will be sleeping with you or not?]]
She was pretty. Beyond the conventional pretty that I found my eyes wandering to within the Night Market. Her skin looked flawless and made of satin, her red lips the perfect amount of plumpness that curved around each syllable she spoke in enticing ways. Not a hair on her head was out of place as it hung elegantly down each shoulder, past the thin lace choker she had wrapped around her neck, and towards the swell of her breasts. It was suddenly no wonder to me how one woman could become so powerful within the Night Market. I was in the presence of absolute power. And I was incredibly aware of just how dangerous that was.
“I uh- I seem to have suddenly forgotten why I am here,” I told her, feeling nerves flutter in my stomach that were not entirely unpleasant. Was everyone distracted by her when they were in her presence for the first time?
Gods, did I hope this was some sort of spell, and I wasn’t this simpering.
Belladonna sipped at her tea, or whatever her cup contained. “I believe it has something to do with a certain gate and you, falling through it without your memories?” she prompted.
“Oh,” I said, feeling my heart sink at the reminder of my predicament. “That.” Her look turned sympathetic at my tone. I couldn’t help the feeling of despair that continued to press at me each time I remembered how little I truly knew.
Setting her teacup aside, Belladonna dabbed at her lips, the white linen coming away red. “I will admit I have done a bit of research on you, dear heart. You have caused quite the stir within the Night Market.”
I straightened at that. “What do you mean?” As far as I knew, I was just another prisoner lumped into a large set of them at the bail blocks. “It didn’t seem like I was a big deal,” I said.
“They’d like you to believe that.” Clasping her hands in front of her, she fixed me with those dark gold eyes. They were unsettling in the way that didn’t allow me to turn away. “You, my dear, have plenty of prying eyes trailing you wherever you go. I do suspect Hazel is warding her district as we speak. At least the girl has the added bonus of her mother having been a fierce bog witch with a penchant for hexing all who looked at her with the slightest bit of malice.”
I swallowed. “Am I in trouble then?”
“Quite a bit of it.” Gesturing me to continue drinking my tea, Belladonna sat back, settling herself in. “What all do you know of your arrival?”
[[I woke up in an alley and they weren’t happy that I didn’t have papers]]
[[I only really know what I’ve been told. I’m not sure I believe any of it]]
I held my tea close to me, my own fingers tapping against the porcelain with the gravity of my situation. “I need to find a way back home,” I started. “But I don’t remember how I got here. Why I got here. Or where home is exactly.” I lifted my gaze towards her, almost feeling embarrassed for the lack of autonomy I had held up to this point.
Belladonna sipped at her tea, or whatever her cup contained. She took a moment as she observed me, clearly trying to discern whether I was worth her time. I doubted what I presented to her was an easy task to clear, nor was it going to be solved in one session. I would most likely have to earn some money to come back and gather more of her time.
“Well, I would like to tell you I have seen people in your situation before succeed in their endeavors, but I’m afraid that most people within your particular dilemma, simply give up after a time.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling my heart sink. It wasn’t surprising, but for some reason, it felt like a weight against my chest.
Setting her teacup aside, Belladonna dabbed at her lips, the white linen coming away red. “I will admit I have done a bit of research on you, dear heart. You have caused quite the stir within the Night Market.”
I straightened at that. “What do you mean?” As far as I knew, I was just another prisoner lumped into a large set of them at the bail blocks. “It didn’t seem like I was a big deal,” I said.
“They’d like you to believe that.” Clasping her hands in front of her, she fixed me with those dark gold eyes. They were unsettling in the way that didn’t allow me to turn away. “You, my dear, have plenty of prying eyes trailing you wherever you go. I do suspect Hazel is warding her district as we speak. At least the girl has the added bonus of her mother having been a fierce bog witch with a penchant for hexing all who looked at her with the slightest bit of malice.”
I swallowed. “Am I in trouble then?”
“Quite a bit of it.” Gesturing me to continue drinking my tea, Belladonna sat back, settling herself in. “What all do you know of your arrival?”
[[I woke up in an alley and they weren’t happy that I didn’t have papers]]
[[I only really know what I’ve been told. I’m not sure I believe any of it]]
I held my tea close to me, my own fingers tapping against the porcelain with the gravity of my situation. “I have so many questions that I’m not sure where to begin or what you can even logically help me with,” I started. “I don’t remember how I got here. Why I got here. Or where home is exactly.” I lifted my gaze towards her, almost feeling embarrassed for the lack of autonomy I had held up to this point. “On top of that, everything about the Night Market is foreign, from the currency you all use, to your policies, down to the ambrosia I ran across out there.”
Belladonna sipped at her tea, or whatever her cup contained. She took a moment as she observed me, clearly trying to discern whether I was worth her time. I doubted what I presented to her was an easy task to clear, nor was it going to be solved in one session. I would most likely have to earn some money to come back and gather more of her time.
“The Night Market is not to everyone's taste,” she said after a long moment. “I find it is best taken in small doses, though most are positively gluttonous with what the market has to offer.”
“Not me,” I told her firmly. “I am not supposed to be here.”
“You may think that, but I can tell you now that is far from the truth.”
I felt my heart sink at her words. They were ominous, despite coming from her pleasant and husky tone. At least she wasn’t sugarcoating my situation.
Setting her teacup aside, Belladonna dabbed at her lips, the white linen coming away red. “I will admit I have done a bit of research on you, dear heart. You have caused quite the stir within the Night Market.”
I straightened at that. “What do you mean?” As far as I knew, I was just another prisoner lumped into a large set of them at the bail blocks. “It didn’t seem like I was a big deal,” I said.
“They’d like you to believe that.” Clasping her hands in front of her, she fixed me with those dark gold eyes. They were unsettling in the way that didn’t allow me to turn away. “You, my dear, have plenty of prying eyes trailing you wherever you go. I do suspect Hazel is warding her district as we speak. At least the girl has the added bonus of her mother having been a fierce bog witch with a penchant for hexing all who looked at her with the slightest bit of malice.”
I swallowed. “Am I in trouble then?”
“Quite a bit of it.” Gesturing me to continue drinking my tea, Belladonna sat back, settling herself in. “What all do you know of your arrival?”
[[I woke up in an alley and they weren’t happy that I didn’t have papers]]
[[I only really know what I’ve been told. I’m not sure I believe any of it]]
“Do we need to go over whether we will be sleeping together?” I asked. I didn’t know how else to bring it up. The woman before me was a courtesan. I didn’t know if, after the business portion of our encounter was concluded, if I was signing up to fall into her bed.
“Do you wish to sleep with me?”
She was pretty. Beyond the conventional pretty that I found my eyes wandering to within the Night Market. Her skin looked flawless and made of satin, her red lips the perfect amount of plumpness that curved around each syllable she spoke in enticing ways. Not a hair on her head was out of place as it hung elegantly down each shoulder, past the thin lace choker she had wrapped around her neck, and towards the swell of her breasts. It was suddenly no wonder to me how one woman could become so powerful within the Night Market. I was in the presence of absolute power. And I was incredibly aware of just how dangerous that was.
“Normally,” she started after I failed to answer her. “We would begin with me asking you what it is you desire and from there, we would negotiate price and set up a day that would work well for you and I to engage in our agreement. Though, one look at you and it is clear that the usual will not suffice.”
“How much do you know?”
“Quite a bit. How much do you know?”
“Nothing at all it seems.”
Her look turned sympathetic. Belladonna sipped at her tea, or whatever her cup contained. “How about we begin by speaking about the information you seek? We can discuss more pleasurable activities after our tea.” Setting her teacup aside, Belladonna dabbed at her lips, the white linen coming away red. “I will admit I have done a bit of research on you, dear heart. You have caused quite the stir within the Night Market.”
I straightened at that. “What do you mean?” As far as I knew, I was just another prisoner lumped into a large set of them at the bail blocks. “It didn’t seem like I was a big deal,” I said.
“They’d like you to believe that.” Clasping her hands in front of her, she fixed me with those dark gold eyes. They were unsettling in the way that didn’t allow me to turn away. “You, my dear, have plenty of prying eyes trailing you wherever you go. I do suspect Hazel is warding her district as we speak. At least the girl has the added bonus of her mother having been a fierce bog witch with a penchant for hexing all who looked at her with the slightest bit of malice.”
I swallowed. “Am I in trouble then?”
“Quite a bit of it.” Gesturing me to continue drinking my tea, Belladonna sat back, settling herself in. “What all do you know of your arrival?”
[[I woke up in an alley and they weren’t happy that I didn’t have papers]]
[[I only really know what I’ve been told. I’m not sure I believe any of it]]
“Nothing. I woke up in an alley. I saw the Velvet Guards over me asking for papers. I got thrown in a cell.”
“Did you see the door you stumbled through?” I shook my head. She didn’t seem all that surprised by my answer. From the moment I had stepped foot within the Night Market, however, it had been made clear to me that I was not someone who belonged. I didn’t have the proper papers. I didn’t have the right answers. I needed to rely on everyone else for help. It gave me little answers in terms of my arrival, but I was hoping it would at least shed light on my continuation here.
Belladonna watched the flicker of emotion cross my face, morphing from pained to scared and back to determined again. She said nothing about it. She was allowing the silence to fill in the gaps that I had not given her.
“How much do you know of the Gatekeeper?” she asked. There was no expression on her face, but I felt the room chill. \
<<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">>“Nothing,” I said honestly.<<elseif $beginningroute == "hazel">> "Not much. Just that they haven't been seen in a decade or so."<<elseif $beginningroute == "solostab">>"Not much. Just that they haven't been seen in a decade or so."<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>"Not much. Just that they haven't been seen in a decade or so."<<elseif $beginningroute == "fleshpit">>"Not much. Just that they haven't been seen in a decade or so.<</if>>
“The Gatekeeper is one of the nine Barons within the Night Market,” she began. “Though why they allow him the title is beyond me. He hasn’t been to a meeting in ten years, and there is much suspicion that he is dead. It is the ongoing theory as to why so many are flooding through the gates. No longer a Gatekeeper to keep them under control.”
“But that isn’t your theory.” It was the way she said it all that gave me pause.
A slow curl of something was at the edge of her lips. I couldn’t tell if she was patronizing me or proud at my observation. “The gates within the Night Market are easily the most sought after commodity. The person who controls them, controls the comings and goings within our realm. They control the type of people who inhabit our streets, they invite and also revoke the ones who are trickling through like lost little lambs. If the power of the gates fell into the wrong hands, those hands could rule the market as a whole. A feat which many have tried before, and many have so far failed.”
“So you believe the Gatekeeper to be alive but keeping a low profile.”
“I do not believe anything, dear heart. I am merely giving you the information I have.” Reaching forward, she poured more tea into my cup. I was unsure when I had even drank it all. “Now, you were not invited to the market. Or at least the assumption is that you were not. Your memory is wiped, so it is hard to tell whether that is to be true. You are proof that the gates are either faulty or, that there is a bigger scheme going on behind closed bars than any of us know about.”
I clutched my teacup to my chest, the sweet smell of hibiscus filtering up as I dug my fingers into the painted roses on the side of the cup.
“Your goal, I assume, is to find out what happened to you?”
“I just want to get home.”
“Which means we need to know why you are here,” she said patiently.
[[What do you suggest I do?]]
[[Is there a way to do this without the Gatekeeper?]]
[[I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to do this]]“I only know what everyone else has been telling me,” I admitted softly. “And I’m unsure if any of that is even true.” It was a harsh reality to face that the people I had thus far put an ounce of faith in, could very well not be honest. For all I knew, that distrust was deserved. Afterall, I was unaware of why I was here to begin with. Maybe, in the end, I’d find out that this was truly my fault.
“Did you see the door you stumbled through?” I shook my head. She didn’t seem all that surprised by my answer. From the moment I had stepped foot within the Night Market, however, it had been made clear to me that I was not someone who belonged. I didn’t have the proper papers. I didn’t have the right answers. I needed to rely on everyone else for help. It gave me little answers in terms of my arrival, but I was hoping it would at least shed light on my continuation here.
Belladonna watched the flicker of emotion cross my face, morphing from pained to scared and back to determined again. She said nothing about it. She was allowing the silence to fill in the gaps that I had not given her.
“How much do you know of the Gatekeeper?” she asked. There was no expression on her face, but I felt the room chill.
<<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">>“Nothing,” I said honestly.<<elseif $beginningroute == "hazel">> "Not much. Just that they haven't been seen in a decade or so."<<elseif $beginningroute == "solostab">>"Not much. Just that they haven't been seen in a decade or so."<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>"Not much. Just that they haven't been seen in a decade or so."<<elseif $beginningroute == "fleshpit">>"Not much. Just that they haven't been seen in a decade or so."<</if>>
“The Gatekeeper is one of the nine Barons within the Night Market,” she began. “Though why they allow him the title is beyond me. He hasn’t been to a meeting in ten years, and there is much suspicion that he is dead. It is the ongoing theory as to why so many are flooding through the gates. No longer a Gatekeeper to keep them under control.”
“But that isn’t your theory.” It was the way she said it all that gave me pause.
A slow curl of something was at the edge of her lips. I couldn’t tell if she was patronizing me or proud at my observation. “The gates within the Night Market are easily the most sought after commodity. The person who controls them, controls the comings and goings within our realm. They control the type of people who inhabit our streets, they invite and also revoke the ones who are trickling through like lost little lambs. If the power of the gates fell into the wrong hands, those hands could rule the market as a whole. A feat which many have tried before, and many have so far failed.”
“So you believe the Gatekeeper to be alive but keeping a low profile.”
“I do not believe anything, dear heart. I am merely giving you the information I have.” Reaching forward, she poured more tea into my cup. I was unsure when I had even drank it all. “Now, you were not invited to the market. Or at least the assumption is that you were not. Your memory is wiped, so it is hard to tell whether that is to be true. You are proof that the gates are either faulty or, that there is a bigger scheme going on behind closed bars than any of us know about.”
I clutched my teacup to my chest, the sweet smell of hibiscus filtering up as I dug my fingers into the painted roses on the side of the cup.
“Your goal, I assume, is to find out what happened to you?”
“I just want to get home.”
“Which means we need to know why you are here,” she said patiently.
[[What do you suggest I do?]]
[[Is there a way to do this without the Gatekeeper?]]
[[I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to do this]]“What is it you suggest I do?” I had come to her for advice. Whether I agreed with what she was about to say was not a concern.
“Ultimately, I would suggest you find the Gatekeeper themselves. They are going to know which gate you belong to. Each member that passes through has a signature of sorts left on them. Burnt into their bones, some would say. Only the Gatekeeper can successfully match the signature with the location.”
“No one else has ever tried to crack it?” For as old as the Night Market appeared to be, it seemed silly that the entire comings and goings of the city was left up to one individual.
“I’m sure they have, but as you well know, looking for something when you don’t even know what you are looking for, is a nigh impossible task.”
Standing, she rounded the table, holding out one pale hand. I reached up and took it, allowing her to pull me to her side. She was tall, made taller by the heels that were slipped delicately over each foot. Her skin was smooth and cool to the touch, and only now did I realize how heated the fire and tea had gotten me.
Slowly, she led me across the room, towards the hot springs and the small garden off to one side. It was full of blooming black roses and plum colored peonies.
“There have been no whispers of the Gatekeeper for nearly a decade,” she began, patting my hand consolingly. “They were never one to make themselves known, but after the last battle for power, they slipped away with not a sound. If you wish to find where your gate is, you need to ask yourself why you.”
“Why me what?”
“Why are you so special to be here? Was it merely a situation of the wrong place at the wrong time? And if it was, why was your memory torn from you? Because it was, dear heart,” she ran her fingers along my temple, dancing them soothingly across my dry skin. “It was taken from you without due course, and it was done nasty at that. That is not an accident. That was an action born of pure intent.”
[[I felt dizzy with the confirmation that I had been brought here]]
[[With Belladonna’s words, I felt a determination form. If someone brought me here, then they were the ones to go find]]
[[I didn’t know how much more of this I could handle and found myself leaning into Belladonna’s touch, hoping for comfort]]“Is there a way to do any of this without the Gatekeeper?” The Gatekeeper seemed to be the missing key. If they had remained illusive for nearly a decade, I doubted someone like me would be able to find them once more, or even begin to discern where their location might be.
“I’m afraid not. Or at least, if there is a way, it is not one I am familiar with.” Belladonna sighed, as if the admittance to her own lack of knowledge was particularly burdensome. “The Gatekeeper is going to know which gate you belong to. Each member that passes through has a signature of sorts left on them. Burnt into their bones, some would say. Only the Gatekeeper can successfully match the signature with the location.”
“No one else has ever tried to crack it?” For as old as the Night Market appeared to be, it seemed silly that the entire comings and goings of the city was left up to one individual.
“I’m sure they have, but as you well know, looking for something when you don’t even know what you are looking for, is a nigh impossible task.”
Standing, she rounded the table, holding out one pale hand. I reached up and took it, allowing her to pull me to her side. She was tall, made taller by the heels that were slipped delicately over each foot. Her skin was smooth and cool to the touch, and only now did I realize how heated the fire and tea had gotten me.
Slowly, she led me across the room, towards the hot springs and the small garden off to one side. It was full of blooming black roses and plum colored peonies.
“There have been no whispers of the Gatekeeper for nearly a decade,” she began, patting my hand consolingly. “They were never one to make themselves known, but after the last battle for power, they slipped away with not a sound. If you wish to find where your gate is, you need to ask yourself why you.”
“Why me what?”
“Why are you so special to be here? Was it merely a situation of the wrong place at the wrong time? And if it was, why was your memory torn from you? Because it was, dear heart,” she ran her fingers along my temple, dancing them soothingly across my dry skin. “It was taken from you without due course, and it was done nasty at that. That is not an accident. That was an action born of pure intent.”
[[I felt dizzy with the confirmation that I had been brought here]]
[[With Belladonna’s words, I felt a determination form. If someone brought me here, then they were the ones to go find]]
[[I didn’t know how much more of this I could handle and found myself leaning into Belladonna’s touch, hoping for comfort]]Emotion overwhelmed me. It hit me harder than I thought it would, tightening my throat to almost painful levels. I had always known that this might be a lost cause. While it was not something I had admitted out loud, the idea that the Night Market may be my new life had whispered venomously in the back of my mind. Even if I could find the Gatekeeper. Even if I could track down my gate, I wasn’t sure I had it in me to do it. It felt like a daunting and dangerous task that I was not capable of and that thought alone was nearly crushing.
Looking up towards Belladonna, I hadn’t realized the tears that filed my eyes. “What if I’m not strong enough for this?”
There was no pity in her golden eyes as a tear slipped down my cheek. I only felt the sympathy from the woman as she stood from the table and held out her hand. I could feel my body shaking as reality began to stretch before me. How could someone miss a home they couldn’t even remember?
I reached up and took Belladonna’s hand, allowing her to pull me to her side. She was tall, made taller by the heels that were slipped delicately over each foot. Her skin was smooth and cool to the touch, and only now did I realize how heated the fire and tea had gotten me. I felt like burying myself against her and crying softly until I had nothing left to give. Her very presence was a cool calm that I instinctively was gravitating towards.
Slowly, she led me across the room, towards the hot springs and the small garden off to one side. It was full of blooming black roses and plum colored peonies.
“There have been no whispers of the Gatekeeper for nearly a decade,” she began, patting my hand consolingly. “They were never one to make themselves known, but after the last battle for power, they slipped away with not a sound. If you wish to find where your gate is, you need to ask yourself why you.”
“Why me what?”
“Why are you so special to be here? Was it merely a situation of the wrong place at the wrong time? And if it was, why was your memory torn from you? Because it was, dear heart,” she ran her fingers along my temple, dancing them soothingly across my dry skin. “It was taken from you without due course, and it was done nasty at that. That is not an accident. That was an action born of pure intent.”
[[I felt dizzy with the confirmation that I had been brought here]]
[[With Belladonna’s words, I felt a determination form. If someone brought me here, then they were the ones to go find]]
[[I didn’t know how much more of this I could handle and found myself leaning into Belladonna’s touch, hoping for comfort]]I felt my head swirl and my feet sway a bit at the knowledge. So I wasn’t a mistake then. I was here on purpose. Yet no one seemed to know why.
“How do I even go about knowing why I came to be here?”
“Patience,” she said with a mirthless smile. “It is a paltry offering, I know, but I have always found that patience is the key. Whoever is responsible for your existence here will get vexed with inactivity.”
“But what if they already got what they needed from me?” I asked. “What if whatever they needed to happen is already done, and I’m just left to the Night Market itself?”
A finger was placed gently over my lips, a soft press of silence. “Speculation will get you nowhere,” she whispered, her voice calming. “Do not lose yourself to it.”
I felt myself being lowered on a woven hammock of lace. Gracefully, Belladonna sat next to me, taking my hand in her lap, her fingers stroking over the soft flesh there. “You have a purpose. Your tale is one that is woven with greatness. Don’t ever forget that you hold the power within the upcoming days. Know that you cannot be controlled. These moments are yours.”
“But you are literally telling me to sit and wait for them to make their next move.” Inactivity. It had felt like an option too many times now.
“I am. Because that is how chess is played.” Turning, her knees brushed against mine. “Now, that is all I have to offer you tonight. If you want more information, I am afraid you will have to pay for such a meeting. Hire me, and I will do my best to figure out how to get you what you desire.”
I let my eyes drop. I felt as if I had both learned so much and so little at the same time. I don’t know if I was expecting this woman to simply fix my situation or if I had hoped that within the next few days, I would be able to sort out this business. Knowing that my time within the Night Market could be infinite, somehow felt like a tumble down a well that I would not recover from. It all seemed hopeless. With no past to cling to, I wondered how quickly I would simply succumb to a life within this realm.
When Belladonna’s fingers slipped into my hair, I startled. “The information portion of our meeting is done,” she said softly, “but that does not mean you have to leave. Please. Rest with me a while. Allow me to take care of you.”
[[Yes please]]
[[I should be going]]Something clicked into place then. It slotted together in a way that left me feeling invigorated. I was not a mistake. Someone had brought me here with a purpose, and that meant they could return me home.
“Sounds like I need to go find whoever placed me in this market to begin with.” Maybe it was the Gatekeeper. Maybe it was someone else. I didn’t care. I only wanted answers.
“Patience,” she said with a mirthless smile. “It is a paltry offering, I know, but I have always found that patience is the key. Whoever is responsible for your existence here will get vexed with inactivity.”
“I am not going to sit idly by for them to make a move,” I told her, feeling my new-found confidence swell within me. “I am going to find them and get the answers I deserve.”
A finger was placed gently over my lips, a soft press of silence. “Anger will get you nowhere,” she whispered, her voice calming. “Do not lose yourself to it.”
I felt myself being lowered on a woven hammock of lace. Gracefully, Belladonna sat next to me, taking my hand in her lap, her fingers stroking over the soft flesh there. “You have a purpose. Your tale is one that is woven with greatness. Don’t ever forget that you hold the power within the upcoming days. Know that you cannot be controlled. These moments are yours.”
“But you are literally telling me to sit and wait for them to make their next move.” Inactivity. It had felt like an option too many times now.
“I am. Because that is how chess is played.” Turning, her knees brushed against mine. “Now, that is all I have to offer you tonight. If you want more information, I am afraid you will have to pay for such a meeting. Hire me, and I will do my best to figure out how to get you what you desire.”
I let my eyes drop. I felt as if I had both learned so much and so little at the same time. I don’t know if I was expecting this woman to simply fix my situation or if I had hoped that within the next few days, I would be able to sort out this business. Knowing that my time within the Night Market could be infinite, somehow felt like a tumble down a well that I would not recover from. It all seemed hopeless. With no past to cling to, I wondered how quickly I would simply succumb to a life within this realm.
When Belladonna’s fingers slipped into my hair, I startled. “The information portion of our meeting is done,” she said softly, “but that does not mean you have to leave. Please. Rest with me a while. Allow me to take care of you.”
[[Yes please]]
[[I should be going]]I leaned against her. It was hesitant at first but as she opened her arms to me, I felt myself fall against her chest, my cheek pillowed over where the sound of a beating heart should have been. It was strangely quiet, however.
As my brain began shutting down and my desire to hide crawled against my skin, I was thankful for one thing. At least now I knew this was not a mistake. If someone had brought me here, then it was perhaps with a purpose that I could even endure. I wouldn’t know until I found them, which was an entire notion that sent me spiraling as well, but there was a direction at least, if I chose to take it.
A finger was placed gently over my lips, a soft press of silence. “Panic will get you nowhere,” she whispered, her voice calming. “Do not lose yourself to it.”
I felt myself being lowered on a woven hammock of lace. Gracefully, Belladonna sat next to me, taking my hand in her lap, her fingers stroking over the soft flesh there. “You have a purpose. Your tale is one that is woven with greatness. Don’t ever forget that you hold the power within the upcoming days. Know that you cannot be controlled. These moments are yours.”
I felt myself falling towards her voice, wishing to drown in the slight rasp at the end of each sentence. She was comfort wrapped in a chilled embrace and while I knew our meeting was coming to a close, I found myself wishing to stay within her arms.
“I am afraid that is all I have to offer you tonight,” she hummed. “If you want more information, I am afraid you will have to pay for such a meeting. Hire me, and I will do my best to figure out how to get you what you desire.”
I let my eyes drop. I felt as if I had both learned so much and so little at the same time. I don’t know if I was expecting this woman to simply fix my situation or if I had hoped that within the next few days, I would be able to sort out this business. Knowing that my time within the Night Market could be infinite, somehow felt like a tumble down a well that I would not recover from. It all seemed hopeless. With no past to cling to, I wondered how quickly I would simply succumb to a life within this realm.
When Belladonna’s fingers slipped into my hair, I startled. “The information portion of our meeting is done,” she said softly, “but that does not mean you have to leave. Please. Rest with me a while. Allow me to take care of you.”
[[Yes please]]
[[I should be going]]“I think I would very much like that,” I said softly.
Her hands slipped to the hem of my tunic, fingers brushing against my skin. “I will say there will be nothing sexual. Not tonight. But a soak in the hot springs. Let me wash your hair and ease the tension from your shoulders.”
I found myself nodding, captivated by the woman before me as she led me over to the hot spring, slipping the clothes from my body until I was laid bare before her. Her eyes remained trained on my own as she guided me into the steaming water, having me sit down on a heated stone. I could feel the water slip up towards my chest.
I leaned back, her bare legs bracketing me as she sat on the rocks behind me, lacing her hair in my $haircolor tresses. I closed my eyes, suppressing a moan as she began to massage my scalp, her long black finger nails scraping lightly against my scalp. When her hands began to knead my shoulders, I let my mouth fall open in bliss.
“So much tension,” she whispered. “You poor thing. No one has taken care of you since arriving, have they?” I didn't say anything. I didn’t know what to say. My body was boneless beneath her touch, and the surrounding water was easing the last lines of tension. “Tell me truthfully. How do you feel? All of this is so new. Has anyone asked you what it is you are even thinking? Or have they all decided what is best for you?”
[[A mixture of both]]
[[Everyone I think means well]]
[[I'm not sure who to trust]]I shook my head, stepping away from her. I wanted to say it was a feat I should be proud of because I doubted many were able to do such a thing when it came to Belladonna Malady. Maybe if this were a different time. Or I was a different person…
“I really should be going,” I told her. She didn’t look disappointed, and I suspected that my refusal would not ruin her day even one bit. Would a woman like her even remember me once I left her ‘office’?
“I wish you luck on your venture,” she said. I wondered how someone could sound so professional while wearing such silk that showed off every curve of her body and the outline of each nipple. She had a confidence that I clearly did not. “Should you need more of my help, please contact me. I would be more than happy to negotiate price with you. I find your future to be… intriguing.”
My stomach tightened at the word. I didn’t know if I should be terrified or not at such an ominous portent. I chose to not acknowledge it.
“Thank you for your help,” I said, bowing my head a bit in deference. Her smile only grew.
[[Next|Chapter Two End]]Hazel had asked how I was feeling several times. Her kind words this morning alone were done not out of malice or an attempt to gain anything from me, but a genuine curiosity in how my emotional state was. Milo had for sure told me what I needed to do. Coming here was one of the things he was most adamant about. And Gabriel, well, he seemed an enigma all in his own right.
“I think everyone is responding with a mixture of concern and trying to get me to do what they think needs to be done,” I leaned further back into her, feeling the water slosh around me and her legs close a little tighter against my sides.
“Everyone must be terribly curious about you,” she said. “It isn’t often we know of the memory wiped souls that fall into our market. Besides, for Milo and Hazel, this must bring up some bad memories.”
“How so?”
She ran something soft through my hair, a sweet smelling oil that was making me drowsy. “For another time, dear heart. This is about you. Now,” she leaned forward, cupping the warm water and drizzling it down the front of my chest. I watched small beads run down my skin, catching on each other as they raced back down towards the steaming depths. “I’m not going to ask if you are scared or angry or still in shock. You have the right to feel any degree of those emotions. But, I do find that it might help if you spoke of what you do remember of your life. Sometimes, clinging to those memories, helps us maintain who we actually are.”
“My grandmother,” I stated. “And the comforter on my bed. It was one she had stitched for me. It was red with a white thread.”
“It sounds positively charming.”
“It felt soft,” I recalled. “I remember it tucked up under my chin.” The very thought of it made me smile. It was the only thing I felt as if was my own. A lone memory of a blanket that was made by a woman whose face I couldn’t even recall. “I had it from the time I was a child. If I could have anything with me now, it would be that.”
“Such a time of comfort,” she said. “It sounds as if it was made of love. It had to be for you to hold the memory so close.”
[[I feel lost]]
[[Whoever brought me here is going to pay]]
[[Are you sure sex is off the table tonight?]]
I thought back on the people I had met so far. Sweet Hazel and her //need// to help me. Milo, a rakish sort who looked at home in the dirty streets of the Night Market. Gabriel, a staunch man who looked at me as if I had broken a rule, but he just hadn’t figured out which yet. All of them had offered to help me in various ways. Even Belladonna had. I was unclear about what any of their motivations were, however. Or if they had any at all.
“Everyone means well,” I leaned further back into her, feeling the water slosh around me and her legs close a little tighter against my sides. “I know everyone is strangers at this point, but I do feel as if their intentions are kind.”
She ran something soft through my hair, a sweet smelling oil that was making me drowsy. “Do you remember your home at all? Any little details?” she leaned forward, cupping the warm water and drizzling it down the front of my chest. I watched small beads run down my skin, catching on each other as they raced back down towards the steaming depths. “Sometimes, clinging to those memories, helps us maintain who we actually are.”
“My grandmother,” I stated. “And the comforter on my bed. It was one she had stitched for me. It was red with a white thread.”
“It sounds positively charming.”
“It felt soft,” I recalled. “I remember it tucked up under my chin.” The very thought of it made me smile. It was the only thing I felt as if was my own. A lone memory of a blanket that was made by a woman whose face I couldn’t even recall. “I had it from the time I was a child. If I could have anything with me now, it would be that.”
“Such a time of comfort,” she said. “It sounds as if it was made of love. It had to be for you to hold the memory so close.”
[[I feel lost]]
[[Whoever brought me here is going to pay]]
[[Are you sure sex is off the table tonight?]]
I thought back on the people I had met so far. Sweet Hazel and her almost need to help me. Milo, a rakish sort who looked at home in the dirty streets of the Night Market. Gabriel, a staunch man who looked at me as if I had broken a rule, but he just hand’t figured out which yet. All of them had offered to help me in various ways. Even Belladonna had. Why were these people going out of their way for me though?
“I’m not sure who to trust,” I leaned further back into her, feeling the water slosh around me and her legs close a little tighter against my sides. “Maybe I’m being paranoid. Or maybe my lack of trust says more about me than anything else.” Why was I so quick to distrust people holding out nothing more than a helping hand.
“Confusion, anger and sorrow are all emotions that can coexist with each other,” she told me softly. “While we may feel as if the warring sentiments put us at odds with our own mind, in the end, you are only trying to figure out how to respond in this new world.”
I thought about that for a moment. Everything had been taken from me. Now was not the time to try and design and figure out now who I was, but maybe who I wanted to be instead.
She ran something soft through my hair, a sweet smelling oil that was making me drowsy. “Do you remember your home at all? Any little details?” she leaned forward, cupping the warm water and drizzling it down the front of my chest. I watched small beads run down my skin, catching on each other as they raced back down towards the steaming depths. “Sometimes, clinging to those memories, helps us maintain who we actually are.”
“My grandmother,” I stated. “And the comforter on my bed. It was one she had stitched for me. It was red with a white thread.”
“It sounds positively charming.”
“It felt soft,” I recalled. “I remember it tucked up under my chin.” The very thought of it made me smile. It was the only thing I felt as if was my own. A lone memory of a blanket that was made by a woman whose face I couldn’t even recall. “I had it from the time I was a child. If I could have anything with me now, it would be that.”
“Such a time of comfort,” she said. “It sounds as if it was made of love. It had to be for you to hold the memory so close.”
[[I feel lost]]
[[Whoever brought me here is going to pay]]
[[Are you sure sex is off the table tonight?]]
I felt my throat seize at that, my eyes pricking with tears. “I feel lost,” I whispered. The admittance felt like a crack through my very chest.
“I’m sure you do. But there is something you need to remember in this time of trial.” Leaning down, she rested her chin against my shoulder, her lips near my ear. “Even in the darkest times, no one can take your strength from you.”
I blinked, not sure what she meant. I felt like everything had been taken. What more of me was left without my memories? But they were words that bled over me in a shiver. Ones that settled into me like magic and became a part of my very thoughts.
As the steam curled around me, I relaxed into Belladonna’s arms. A gentle hum began to waft around me, and the world went quiet for the first time since being here.
[[Next|Chapter Two End]]Something boiled within me at the thought of my grandmother. Someone out there had taken me from that memory and had tried to rip it from my very mind. There was no point to that. Even if I turned out to be something vile and unclean, even if me being here was done out of necessity, there was no point in trying to take the memory of that woman from me.
“Whoever brought me here is going to pay,” I whispered, feeling something crack through me, sharp and painful.
“I’m sure you feel that way now,” Belladonna whispered. “But there is something you need to remember in this time of trial.” Leaning down, she rested her chin against my shoulder, her lips near my ear. “Even in the darkest times, no one can take your strength from you.”
I blinked, not sure what she meant. I felt like everything had been taken. What more of me was left without my memories? But they were words that bled over me in a shiver. Ones that settled into me like magic and became a part of my very thoughts.
As the steam curled around me, I relaxed into Belladonna’s arms. A gentle hum began to waft around me, and the world went quiet for the first time since being here.
[[Next|Chapter Two End]]My throat was dry with the way her hands ran across me, dipping into the water to trail back up my arms, kneading into the corded knots at my shoulder. I could feel her breath against the back of my neck. The way her thighs hugged me close. It sent a soft bolt of arousal trickling through me.
“Are you sure sex is off the table tonight?” I asked, breathless. Her chuckle was low and knowing. Scooting towards me, I could feel the press of her against my back, her legs locking around my chest in a tight hold.
“That, dear heart, is a discussion for another time,” she said huskily. “However,” leaning forward, she ran her lips up the side of my neck. I found myself tilting my head to allow her better access as her teeth grazed the soft flesh there. “I can guarantee you, that I can make you scream like you never had before.”
My heart stuttered in my chest and my belly tightened with need. As the steam curled around me, I found myself following into Belladonna’s arms further, my body craving just a moment more of her touch. A gentle hum began to waft around me then, and the world went quiet for the first time since being here.
[[Next|Chapter Two End]]I left the pleasure district, my head full of what Belladonna had told me. The idea that I was here for a reason settled against me in a way that made me shift inside my skin uncomfortably. Who had even brought me here? And why me? There was nothing remarkable about me that I could discern. I couldn’t figure out why I would be brought to a realm such as this and then dropped in an alley.
Unless I wasn’t supposed to be in that alley. Had something happened that wasn’t supposed to? Was I even aware that I was to come to the Night Market? I could have had the knowledge that this was my path nearly the entire time and yet with the wipe that had shredded my thoughts, I was now sitting here with no direction.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I ducked under the large ivy and hibiscus wrapped archway that led out of the courtyard of the pleasure district, hearing the moans cut off from behind me. The air shifted, something I had been noticing with each district I entered and exited. There was more of a silence within the alleyways, the stone passages blocking out the excess noise from the surrounding districts. Looking up towards the sky, I could see where the colors of the lanterns shifted, their swaying forms transitioning softly from one location to the next.
The Night Market. It still felt so foreign. And yet I was wrapped up in its embrace with each choking breath I took.
“So how is Ms. Belladonna Malady?” Milo stood at the entrance to the next alleyway, hands in his pockets, feet crossed before him as he leaned against the wall. He tilted his head towards me. “Did she get to ya?” he asked. I flushed a little. “Yeah, she got to ya,” he chuckled.
Pushing away from the wall, he began walking. I really saw no option other than to follow him. If I was supposed to sit and wait for something to shake loose, Hazel’s seemed like the only logical place to go to next.
“What’d she say?” Milo inquired after we had put some distance between us and the pink dusky lanterns.
“That I was brought here on purpose.” Well, she didn’t say that specifically. The woman was very good at turning her words into a meandering story that negated any of her own personal opinions.
“Why’d she think that?” he asked, the light cut across his face, highlighting the twisting frown against his lips. A small scar slashed through the upper corner of his mouth that I hadn’t noticed before.
“She said that the Gatekeeper was either dead and the gates were malfunctioning. Or, that I was actually invited here.”
“And she is falling on the side that the Gatekeeper is not dead?”
“She wouldn’t say as much but…” I shrugged, trialing off. We walked in silence for a long while, letting the lanterns flicker above us. They were softer now. I wondered if it meant a certain passage of time, or if I was simply getting used to my surroundings. “Has no one really had any dealings with the Gatekeeper?”
Milo shrugged. “No, there’s been dealings. A few people here and there. With the market as big as it is, it would be too hard to be the only one dealing with the gates. I’d assume they’d need a helping hand or two.”
“Maybe we could find one of them,” I suggested. An illusive Gatekeeper was nearly impossible to find. But perhaps someone that worked for them would be an easy task to accomplish.
He turned to me. “So you are falling on the side of this being purposeful then?”
[[Yes|Chapter Two end yes]]
[[I’m just following the leads I have]]
[[What do you think?]]
“I just want to follow the leads that come my way,” I explained. “Some of them sound absolutely nuts. I know this. But if any one of them can give me even the smallest bit of information, or even hope, then it is worth following.”
Milo’s eyes ticked towards me. “Interesting way to lead your life.”
“I don’t know how to lead my life,” I said. “It’s all new from here on out.”
“Now that, is something I know plenty would kill for. A chance at a new beginning. What an absolute blessing that could be.” He laughed a little, kicking his feet against the alley floors. A spray of dust and pebbles arced out before him. “Well, then what is the plan, darlin’? What is the next move in your saga?”
“Start figuring out how to find the Gatekeeper,” I said. “If not them, then someone who works for them. And if not that, then someone who has a lead on any of their whereabouts.”
“Good luck,” he said. “Many have tried and all have failed.”
There was a bitterness to his tone that made me think he may have once been one of the people who had tried. When it came to the Gatekeeper, he didn’t seem all that interested in that lead. Or maybe it was just the mood that was casting over him right now. “I might go talk to the Warden. Gabriel.” I ticked my eyes over to him, gauging his reaction.
“Mr. Stick up his ass? Why?” The twisted amount of disgust on his face definitely proved that they knew each other outside a simple acquaintance. I wondered if Gabriel felt the same way about Milo.
“Out of everyone, he probably has the most information about where this all started. Where it was I came through. I can’t even remember where I was when I first…” I didn’t know how to describe what even happened to me.
“Woke up?” Milo offered.
“Yeah. Woke up.”
Milo didn’t look convinced. Shoving his hands in his pockets, I noticed how his feet hit a little harder against the ground. “I’d be careful about that one. He may have a way or two, but he is still part of the Velvet Guard. In fact, I’d make the argument that he is the Velvet Guard.”
“I have to do something,” I said quietly. “Sitting back passively feels like I’m letting this all happen to me.”
I couldn’t explain it. But the inactivity felt as if I was simply allowing for my life to continue in this confusing miasma of mistrusts and lack of communication. I wanted to scream. To climb to the top of the highest tower in the Night Market and yell that I had had enough.
I let my head fall back as we continued to walk.
“Can you take me back to Hazel’s?” I asked. I was realizing now I didn’t exactly know the way.
“Darlin’ I can take you absolutely anywhere.” He grinned. His tone had flipped again. Flirtatious and teasing once more. I noticed when it dipped into that near growl, his emotions, true emotions, were more prone to pop out. “Come on. We’ll pick up some food along the way for her. Made a promise that I would help her with the orders tonight.”
As we moved with purpose through the Night Market, I found my gaze tipping upwards. The sway of the lantern light felt peaceful as it washed across my face. There was something about it that was enchanting, and despite the range of emotions I had felt since being here, I could easily feel its spell trying to take hold. I didn’t know what that world bring for me, or if the lingering caress of its paper light was going to pull me under before I even had a chance to fight.
For tonight, though, I tried not to care. For tonight, I wanted to eat good food and enjoy the company that had formed around me.
For tonight, I would give into the sway of the lamp light above.
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[Chapter Three|Work for Gabriel]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Three]]<</if>>I wasn’t sure I knew what my next move was. Or how to voice it if I did. Side eyeing Milo, I looked at him curiously. “What do you think I should do?” I asked softly. He had been the one to steer me towards Belladonna, after all. It felt doubtful that he wasn't actively forming his own opinions on what lay ahead.
“Tough question,” he stated with a small shrug to his step. “You and I are vastly different people.”
“Alright, what would you do in this situation then? If you were me.”
Tilting his head upwards, he seemed to be thinking of something. A forgotten memory, perhaps. A distant past that was now playing out before his eyes and sending his hands to tighten at his sides. “I have been in your situation,” he said quietly.
“What do you mean?” My mind was racing. Did he have his memory wiped? Did Milo come through a gate unbidden? I stared at him with an almost frantic need to shake the truth from his form. He only dropped his head back down, though, continuing on through the nearly empty alleyway with something akin to regret hunched across his shoulders. “Milo?” I asked hesitantly.
[[Reach out and touch him]]
[[Keep your distance and stay quiet]]
[[Keep your distance and press him for answers]]
“What else am I supposed to think?” I asked. “If the gates are faulty, that seems like a dead end. At least if this is some sort of nefarious game being played, there is a line to follow.”
“There’s that.”
“It all just seems so…”
“Dramatic?” he provided.
“I was going to say complicated.”
He laughed a little, kicking his feet against the alley floors. A spray of dust and pebbles arced out before him. “Well, then what is the plan, darlin’? What is the next move in your saga?”
“I guess I just keep doing what I’m doing. If someone actually wants me for whatever reason, I can’t imagine I’ll be playing into their hands much by sweeping a shop.” It was becoming clear that I needed to earn a bit of money as well and Hazel’s job offer was one that at least came with free room and board.
“I don’t know,” Milo started. “You’ve met Hazel. There has never been a more nefarious soul around.”
I rolled my eyes at that, but decided to play along. There was something that was easy about that when it came to Milo. “I might go talk to the Warden. Gabriel.” I ticked my eyes over to him, gauging his reaction.
“Mr. Stick up his ass? Why?” The twisted amount of disgust on his face definitely proved that they knew each other outside a simple acquaintance. I wondered if Gabriel felt the same way about Milo.
“Out of everyone, he probably has the most information about where this all started. Where it was I came through. I can’t even remember where I was when I first…” I didn’t know how to describe what even happened to me.
“Woke up?” Milo offered.
“Yeah. Woke up.”
Milo didn’t look convinced. Shoving his hands in his pockets, I noticed how his feet hit a little harder against the ground. “I’d be careful about that one. He may have a way or two, but he is still part of the Velvet Guard. In fact, I’d make the argument that he is the Velvet Guard.”
“I have to do something,” I said quietly. “Sitting back passively feels like I’m letting this all happen to me.”
I couldn’t explain it. But the inactivity felt as if I was simply allowing for my life to continue in this confusing miasma of mistrusts and lack of communication. I wanted to scream. To climb to the top of the highest tower in the Night Market and yell that I had had enough.
I let my head fall back as we continued to walk.
“Can you take me back to Hazel’s?” I asked. I was realizing now I didn’t exactly know the way.
“Darlin’ I can take you absolutely anywhere.” He grinned. His tone had flipped again. Flirtatious and teasing once more. I noticed when it dipped into that near growl, his emotions, true emotions, were more prone to pop out. “Come on. We’ll pick up some food along the way for her. Made a promise that I would help her with the orders tonight.”
As we moved with purpose through the Night Market, I found my gaze tipping upwards. The sway of the lantern light felt peaceful as it washed across my face. There was something about it that was enchanting, and despite the range of emotions I had felt since being here, I could easily feel its spell trying to take hold. I didn’t know what that world bring for me, or if the lingering caress of its paper light was going to pull me under before I even had a chance to fight.
For tonight, though, I tried not to care. For tonight, I wanted to eat good food and enjoy the company that had formed around me.
For tonight, I would give into the sway of the lamp light above.
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[Chapter Three|Work for Gabriel]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Three]]<</if>><img src="images/Ch 3.png"
height="300" width="900">
It had been two weeks since I met with Belladonna. Milo had walked me back to Hazel’s that night, where we were greeted to a pleasant dinner downstairs. Mr. Billows had glared at Milo for the duration of the evening, while Hazel had danced around the shop, bringing out more food than was humanly possible to consume. The bit of takeout Milo and I had brought was demoted to the icebox for midnight snacks at a later date. <<if $workforgabriel == "true">> A few exchanges were made between the Warden and Hazel, ensuring that I was no longer referred to as Prisoner 47b but other than that, the man had made himself scarce.<</if>>
Conversation had been easy that night, if not purposefully light. The love between both Hazel and Milo was even more apparent when they were placed in a relaxed situation. They traded jokes and stories easily, finishing each other's thoughts almost unknowingly. Hazel adored Milo like any sibling would. Loving him consistently but rolling her eyes at most of what he did. Meanwhile, Milo fawned over Hazel, making sure the ground she walked on was paved in gold. It strangely helped. It allowed an ease to begin to uncurl, seeing the two of them like that. Being invited into their inner sanctum. By the time the evening ended, and I was trudging up the stairs to my room, I felt somewhat normal.
Flopping onto my small bed, looking around the nondescript room, I had let out a little sigh. It had taken some time to fall asleep that night, but the evenings from then on had gotten easier. It did not diminish what I knew I was going to have to do, or take away the emotions swirling around the fact that this was not home. But, I had settled into life, keeping my wanderings small as Belladonna suggested. Allowing my mind and body to fall into the idea of this strange new world and understand that each darkened corner did not offer another quick arrest and toss into the cells.
[[Next|Chapter Three 1]]I reached out, my hand tentatively laying against his back. He didn’t flinch, but I could feel the corded muscles beneath his shirt. We paused, alone in an alley lit with only a dim amber glow. The cigarette was tucked behind his ear and his curls fell messily around his face. He looked tired at the reminder of the thoughts in his head.
“It was a long time ago,” he said in way of explanation. “I’m sure you’ll hear about it. In fact, I know you will. Hazel was around for it all, and I doubt with the Gatekeeper being mentioned, she’ll keep any of this from you.”
“But you don’t want to tell me?”
He shook his head. “Not tonight,” he said. “It’s a long story and one that I’m still not quite sure how or why it all happened.”
I nodded, letting my hand slip from his shoulder. He watched it go, following its descent back to my side.
“Come on,” he said. “Let me take you back to Hazel’s. We’ll pick up some food along the way for her. I promised her some help with the orders."
As we moved with purpose through the Night Market, I found my gaze tipping upwards. The sway of the lantern light felt peaceful as it washed across my face. There was something about it that was enchanting, and despite the range of emotions I had felt since being here, I could easily feel its spell trying to take hold. I didn’t know what that would bring for me, or if the lingering caress of its paper light was going to pull me under before I even had a chance to fight.
For tonight, though, I tried not to care. For tonight, I wanted to eat good food and enjoy the company that had formed around me.
For tonight, I would give into the sway of the lamp light above.
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[Chapter Three|Work for Gabriel]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Three]]<</if>>I kept some distance between us as we walked. So many questions filled my head, but by the way Milo hunched in on himself and the silence that was consuming us, it was clear he was in no mood to answer. As I looked at him, though, I didn’t see the edges of deceit, but only the angry lines of regret as he puzzled out his own thoughts, lost in his history.
I tucked my own head downwards, feeling like a fool for even bringing it up and wiping the rakish grin that I had come to know, off his face. “Could you take me back to Hazel’s?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t exactly know the way.
He nodded. “Yeah. Come on. We’ll pick up some food along the way for her. I promised her some help with the orders."
As we moved with purpose through the Night Market, I found my gaze tipping upwards. The sway of the lantern light felt peaceful as it washed across my face. There was something about it that was enchanting, and despite the range of emotions I had felt since being here, I could easily feel its spell trying to take hold. I didn’t know what that would bring for me, or if the lingering caress of its paper light was going to pull me under before I even had a chance to fight.
For tonight, though, I tried not to care. For tonight, I wanted to eat good food and enjoy the company that had formed around me.
For tonight, I would give into the sway of the lamp light above.
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[Chapter Three|Work for Gabriel]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Three]]<</if>>I kept some distance between us as we walked. So many questions filled my head, but by the way Milo hunched in on himself and the silence that was consuming us, it was clear he was in no mood to answer. As I looked at him, though, I didn’t see the edges of deceit, but only the angry lines of regret as he puzzled out his own thoughts, lost in his history.
“Were you like me then?” I asked. I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it, but it was not something I was willing to let go.
“I’m not from here, if that’s what you’re asking.” He continued walking, keeping a pace that was a little hard for me to follow. Agitation creased between his brow. “I have my memories of my home,” he explained further.
“Then what-”
“It was a long time ago.” His tone was clipped. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
“How am I supposed to leave it at that? If you have information…” I trailed off as he stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache.
“I’m sure you’ll hear about it. In fact, I know you will. Hazel was around for it all, and I doubt with the Gatekeeper being mentioned, she’ll keep any of this from you.”
“But you don’t want to tell me?”
He shook his head. “Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight, I want to go back to Hazel’s. I want to eat food and glare at that damn cat. Then, I want to help her with her orders because I know she’s behind but she just won’t tell me.”
As we moved with purpose through the Night Market, I found my gaze tipping upwards. The sway of the lantern light felt peaceful as it washed across my face. There was something about it that was enchanting, and despite the range of emotions I had felt since being here, I could easily feel its spell trying to take hold. I didn’t know what that would bring for me, or if the lingering caress of its paper light was going to pull me under before I even had a chance to fight.
For tonight, though, I tried not to care. For tonight, I wanted to eat good food and enjoy the company that had formed around me.
For tonight, I would give into the sway of the lamp light above.
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[Chapter Three|Work for Gabriel]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Three]]<</if>>The world around me felt vast despite the narrow set of walls that loomed behind each stall. The market looked as if it was made up of a maze of wandering alleys, opening into larger districts such as this. The sheer magnitude of the world was terrifying. The sights and sounds rolled into one overwhelming experience that had my heart beating erratically against my chest.
The quiet of the cell suddenly felt safer. I wondered if that’s why the blue-eyed man continued to come back to those walls.
We walked down the street, twisting out of the way of large carts filled with vegetables and fruit that I only vaguely recognized. My stomach growled in response, feeling cavernous. I really hadn’t had anything substantial in who knew how long. Recognizing the look on my face, Hazel laughed, leading me down a small side street, one that turned off the main strip and narrowed until you could barely walk side by side.
“I’m buying,” she explained.
She took me to an out-of-the-way stall near the back corner. A woman was wrapping dumplings and setting them in a bamboo basket, her tawny hands flashing quickly among the steam as she pinched the dough together, placing the bundles within the cooker.
“Sweet little Albright,” the woman crooned. “You come hungry today?”
Hazel hopped up on one of the wood stools, arranging her patchwork skirts around her while she perched her feet up on the stall's pallet front. Her shoes were worn and stained, her toes wiggling just under the thin material. “I’m always hungry, Lo. You know that.”
Lo, grinned widely, her wrinkled skin curling into something pleasant and warm as she looked at Hazel adoringly. When her eyes turned to me, they narrowed almost immediately.
“Who are you? You being kind to my Albright? I don’t want to hear any of those damn derogatory comments. We don’t serve that kind of language here and…”
[[Defer to Hazel, unsure how you are supposed to respond to this woman]]
[[No ma'am. No derogatory comments from me]]
[[Who would dare treat Hazel like that?]]The maze of wandering alleys was intriguing. It boasted a curiosity in me that jittered with possibilities. With each corner we turned, the world continued to unfold into something new, an abundance of color painting the realm in such a way that had my eyes flitting this way and that. If I were to spend the next decade here, I doubted I’d know what all the world had to offer.
We walked down the street, twisting out of the way of large carts filled with vegetables and fruit that I only vaguely recognized. My stomach growled in response, feeling cavernous. I really hadn'’t had anything substantial in who knew how long. Recognizing the look on my face, Hazel laughed, leading me down a small side street, one that turned off the main strip and narrowed until you could barely walk side by side.
“I’m buying,” she explained.
She took me to an out-of-the-way stall near the back corner. A woman was wrapping dumplings and setting them in a bamboo basket, her tawny hands flashing quickly among the steam as she pinched the dough together, placing the bundles within the cooker.
“Sweet little Albright,” the woman crooned. “You come hungry today?”
Hazel hopped up on one of the wood stools, arranging her patchwork skirts around her while she perched her feet up on the stall's pallet front. Her shoes were worn and stained, her toes wiggling just under the thin material. “I’m always hungry, Lo. You know that.”
Lo, grinned widely, her wrinkled skin curling into something pleasant and warm as she looked at Hazel adoringly. When her eyes turned to me, they narrowed almost immediately.
“Who are you? You being kind to my Albright? I don’t want to hear any of those damn derogatory comments. We don’t serve that kind of language here and…”
[[Defer to Hazel, unsure how you are supposed to respond to this woman]]
[[No ma'am. No derogatory comments from me]]
[[Who would dare treat Hazel like that?]]The maze of wandering alleys were made up of hushed secrets, all of which gathered in dark corners to turn their tale. It made the world feel vast and limitless, enticing all those who stepped foot on their cobbled streets. Yet, despite the temptation, the world in parts felt soft. Home to individuals bustling through the streets, living their lives, and going about their day without thought or knowledge of the darkness that lurked. I had seen the harshness of the world down at the beach, but here, I was seeing beauty as well. It left me reeling, unsure of what I should think.
We walked down the street, twisting out of the way of large carts filled with vegetables and fruit that I only vaguely recognized. My stomach growled in response, feeling cavernous. I really hadn’t had anything substantial in who knew how long. Recognizing the look on my face, Hazel laughed, leading me down a small side street, one that turned off the main strip and narrowed until you could barely walk side by side.
“I’m buying,” she explained.
She took me to an out-of-the-way stall near the back corner. A woman was wrapping dumplings and setting them in a bamboo basket, her tawny hands flashing quickly among the steam as she pinched the dough together, placing the bundles within the cooker.
“Sweet little Albright,” the woman crooned. “You come hungry today?”
Hazel hopped up on one of the wood stools, arranging her patchwork skirts around her while she perched her feet up on the stall's pallet front. Her shoes were worn and stained, her toes wiggling just under the thin material. “I’m always hungry, Lo. You know that.”
Lo, grinned widely, her wrinkled skin curling into something pleasant and warm as she looked at Hazel adoringly. When her eyes turned to me, they narrowed almost immediately.
“Who are you? You being kind to my Albright? I don’t want to hear any of those damn derogatory comments. We don’t serve that kind of language here and…”
[[Defer to Hazel, unsure how you are supposed to respond to this woman]]
[[No ma'am. No derogatory comments from me]]
[[Who would dare treat Hazel like that?]]My eyes ticked towards Hazel, unsure of how to respond. The fierceness from the woman in front of me had me thinking she was going to hit me with a wooden spoon if I said anything that could be interpreted as out of line.
“Lo,” Hazel reached out, placing a hand on a frail wrist and pushing her clenched fists downwards. The spoon in which she waved in front of my face made a clunk as it hit the counter. “This one is safe. Don’t worry, alright?”
Lo gave me another long look. One that penetrated right through me. “Alright,” she said hesitantly, backing away. Like a switch, her expression changed again. “I’ll start those dumplings for you. Dozens, little Albright. You’re looking far too skinny. Workin’ too hard at that ghost shop.”
With a grateful smile, Hazel settled down on one of the seats, watching the woman bustle around, humming to herself. Hesitantly, I sat on the stool next to her.
[[We didn't order any food]]
[[What does she mean by derogatory comments]]
[[Lo is... intense]]I looked at the woman with a bit of a raised chin. There was something slightly dangerous about the way she stared back at me. “No ma’am,” I replied respectfully. “Nothing derogatory will be leaving my lips.”
She looked as if she didn’t believe me. Her hand was raised, a wooden spoon brandished within her grip. Dark brown eyes narrowed skeptically at me, as if she was certain I was pulling a fast one over her.
“Lo,” Hazel laughed. I’m sure the two of us made a comical sight. “This one is safe. Don’t worry, alright?”
Lo gave me another long look. One that penetrated right through me. “Alright,” she said hesitantly, backing away. Like a switch, her expression changed again. “I’ll start those dumplings for you. Dozens, little Albright. You’re looking far too skinny. Workin’ too hard at that ghost shop.”
With a grateful smile, Hazel settled down on one of the seats, watching the woman bustle around, humming to herself. Hesitantly, I sat on the stool next to her.
[[We didn't order any food]]
[[What does she mean by derogatory comments]]
[[Lo is... intense]]A surprising amount of anger welled within me at the woman’s words. Not towards the woman herself, but at anyone that would treat Hazel in such a way. The amount of time I had known the woman equaled to nothing. Yet, it was already clear her heart was far bigger than this world deserved.
“Why would anyone treat you like that?” I asked, turning towards Hazel. “Do you have trouble within the market?”
Hazel shifted uncomfortably, her eyes dropping downwards. Her body shivered, the sound of rustling twigs light on the wind. “Lo,” Hazel said softly. The woman was holding a large wooden spoon like a weapon, her eyes still upon me. “This one is safe. Don’t worry, alright?”
Lo gave me another long look. One that penetrated right through me. “Alright,” she said hesitantly, backing away. Like a switch, her expression changed again. “I’ll start those dumplings for you. Dozens, little Albright. You’re looking far too skinny. Workin’ too hard at that ghost shop.”
With a grateful smile, Hazel settled down on one of the seats, watching the woman bustle around, humming to herself. Hesitantly, I sat on the stool next to her.
[[We didn't order any food]]
[[What does she mean by derogatory comments]]
[[Lo is... intense]]“We didn’t order,” I observed, watching as the woman named Lo bustled behind the counter. Already I could see her gathering a small platter of food.
“You don’t order with Lo,” Hazel explained. “Not unless you want to offend her and while I can’t speak from experience, I hear that spoon hurts.”
Whatever the woman was preparing smelled like the district itself, causing my stomach to rumble loudly. Lo’s stall was set aside from the others. The main strip we had first walked down had been overflowing with market stalls jammed together in an ill-fitting array of good eats and even more blissful scents. Lo’s street, a subsidiary of the main strip, had far fewer stalls. They were spread out from each other, allowing more breathing room. The lantern light was less vibrant here as well.
“It seems different here,” I observed.
Hazel nodded, looking around at the few stalls that littered the area. “This is the cheaper side of the Spice District. Costs Lo less to set up shop here. Unfortunately, it also provides her with fewer customers. But, well, Lo has a good heart. She’s known to feed the clientele that others might turn away.”
We sat in silence for a moment, me looking around at the strange surroundings I found myself in, Hazel giving me time to adjust. Food was placed in front of us, several plates of steamed buns and dumplings and little bits of sliced vegetables with plum sauce. I began eating almost automatically, my stomach rumbling happily at the sustenance for the first time in a while.
“I know you’re going to have questions,” Hazel began. “It’s safe to answer some of them now,” she told me. “But I understand if you need to rest a bit first."
[[Rest a bit]]
[[No, I’m ready for questions]]
[[I’m not ready for a lot of questions but I know I need to start asking them]]“What did she mean by derogatory comments?” I asked, as soon as the woman busied herself with our order. While I was certain she could hear our conversation, she at least gave us the illusion of privacy.
Hazel fiddled a little with the clanking bottles at the side of her skirts. “My mother was not well liked,” she explained. “That hatred towards her ended up extending to my brother and I by sheer association.”
The idea was startling. Hazel had extended her hand to me, a complete stranger, when she didn’t have to. I didn’t know how anyone could look at a woman like that and assume the worst due to her mother.
“I’ve gotten a little distance from it over the years,” she explained, “but… well, most people in the Night Market still remember her. And they were hurt by her. It’s going to take some time.”
Her face was ducked downwards, staring at her lap, as if I was going to pass judgement on her for something that a woman had done long ago. I could see the nervous twitch of her fingers as she picked at loose threads and cords of hemp that tied her baubles to her.
“Sounds like Lo is at least on your side,” I said gently, finding a newfound respect for the spoon wielding woman. “I’m glad.”
Hazel tipped her head upwards, my words having been unexpected. She seemed pleased by them, however.
We sat in silence for a moment, me looking around at the strange surroundings I found myself in, Hazel giving me time to adjust. Food was placed in front of us, several plates of steamed buns and dumplings and little bits of sliced vegetables with plum sauce. I began eating almost automatically, my stomach rumbling happily at the sustenance for the first time in a while.
“I know you’re going to have questions,” Hazel began. “It’s safe to answer some of them now,” she told me. “But I understand if you need to rest a bit first."
[[Rest a bit]]
[[No, I’m ready for questions]]
[[I’m not ready for a lot of questions but I know I need to start asking them]]I eyed the spoon in question. It certainly didn’t look like a pleasant experience. “You know her well, then?”
Hazel nodded. “She’s been around since I was a child. Used to give my brother and I free dumplings when we were younger.” There was a fondness forming at the corners of Hazel’s eyes at the memory. Despite the woman's threats with a spoon, she was someone integral to Hazel’s youth. “Made sure never to let us go hungry. Apparently she still takes that job rather seriously.”
With the amount of food the woman was cooking in the back, that much was clear. I didn’t know how we were going to pay for it all, though I supposed that was something Hazel had under control. That was something I needed to think about eventually. Money. While I hoped my time in the Night Market was going to be short, I doubted I could get by with nothing in my pockets.
We sat in silence for a moment, me looking around at the strange surroundings I found myself in, Hazel giving me time to adjust. Food was placed in front of us, several plates of steamed buns and dumplings and little bits of sliced vegetables with plum sauce. I began eating almost automatically, my stomach rumbling happily at the sustenance for the first time in a while.
“I know you’re going to have questions,” Hazel began. “It’s safe to answer some of them now,” she told me. “But I understand if you need to rest a bit first."
[[Rest a bit]]
[[No, I’m ready for questions]]
[[I’m not ready for a lot of questions but I know I need to start asking them]]I held a steamed bun in my hand. It smelled of meat and something salty. I knew I needed to ask questions. To say anything. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not tonight. The world still felt like too much and was only just beginning to settle against me in a way that made some amount of sense.
“Do you mind if we hold off on the questions for a bit?” I asked. Exhaustion hung heavy across me and I didn’t know how much I was really going to retain. I was still operating under this all being some sort of horrible dream. Or at the very least, a dying gasp of an over worked mind.
Hazel patted my hand in understanding. “Of course we can. I honestly think you’ll feel so much better once you get a bit of sleep. It’s been a long day, and you need time to recover. After we eat, I’ll take you back to my shop. I have a room there that you can stay at. It’s not much, but at least it’ll be something. I think my friend will meet us there.”
“Your friend?”
She nodded. “He helps me in these situations. I think he’s trying to get your papers now.”
I cast her what I hoped was a grateful look as I continued eating. The food was making me feel sleepier by the moment and I feared I was going to fall asleep within my soup dumplings.
“On second thought, maybe I should ask you a few things. If only to keep me awake.”
Hazel laughed. “How about I give you a quick crash course then.” I nodded, clinging to her words. “The Night Market is the nexus point to limitless realities,” she began. “It’s the center of all the cosmos and the one place not in flux. You have to be invited to the world. By the Gatekeeper. Or at least that’s how the legend goes. I’m not positive, really. I was born here, so I’ve not experienced that myself.” She gestured for me to continue eating. Lo had brought out two more large plates of unrecognizable food during the small duration of our conversation. “The papers are the legitimate proof that you belong here, which is why the Velvet Guard becomes so concerned with them. If you are invited to the Night Market, you have gone through the proper channels. If not, you have snuck in.”
[[What does it matter if you sneak in?]]
[[How do people come and go here? Or is it once you enter the Night Market, you never leave?]]
[[Does being born here mean something different from if you just walked through a gate?]]
“I’m not certain how much I’ll be able to retain,” I admitted. “But the more I know, the better off I think I’ll be. Just, uh, don’t be surprised if you have to repeat yourself later.”
“Fair.” Wiping her lips on a cloth napkin, Hazel turned her attention fully towards me, twisting her body until she faced me entirely. “Ask away.”
I looked upwards at the swaying lanterns. The thin paper gave way to nothing of what the light source was inside. There was just a faint glow from within the orb. Steady and warm. “Well, I feel like the first one would be, what exactly is this place?”
Hazel was prepared for this question. Or at least, that’s what her face denoted. “The Night Market is the nexus point to limitless realities,” she began. “They exist separately and simultaneously, and can be born and destroyed with an exhalation of breath. Realities are all bound together like the knot in a series of loose threads. This would be the center of it all and the one place not in flux. Other realities can shift with the passage of time. This one can not.”
“So every reality has access here?”
“Kind of. It’s like secret access? The Night Market is not well advertised, but if you know where the gate to this world is, then you can get here.”
“And how do you find out about a gate?” Even with the slip of my memories, I doubted gates to a cosmic nexus point were advertised.
“You have to be invited. By the Gatekeeper. Or at least that’s how the legend goes. I’m not positive, really. I was born here, so I’ve not experienced that myself.” She gestured for me to continue eating. Lo had brought out two more large plates of unrecognizable food during the small duration of our conversation. “The papers are the legitimate proof that you belong here, which is why the Velvet Guard becomes so concerned with them. If you are invited to the Night Market, you have gone through the proper channels. If not, you have snuck in.”
[[What does it matter if you sneak in?]]
[[How do people come and go here? Or is it once you enter the Night Market, you never leave?]]
[[Does being born here mean something different from if you just walked through a gate?]]
“No, I think answers might help me a bit,” I said around a bite of food. “Kind of put things into place a bit more.” The world seemed to be settling the longer I inhabited it. The more information I gathered, the more comfortable I was hoping to become.
Wiping her lips on a cloth napkin, Hazel turned her attention fully towards me, twisting her body until she faced me entirely. “Ask away.”
I looked upwards at the swaying lanterns. The thin paper gave way to nothing of what the light source was inside. There was just a faint glow from within the orb. Steady and warm. “Well, I feel like the first one would be, what exactly is this place?”
Hazel was prepared for this question. Or at least, that’s what her face denoted. The Night Market is the nexus point to limitless realities,” she began. “They exist separately and simultaneously, and can be born and destroyed with an exhalation of breath. Realities are all bound together like the knot in a series of loose threads. This would be the center of it all and the one place not in flux. Other realities can shift with the passage of time. This one can not.”
“So every reality has access here?”
“Kind of. It’s like secret access? The Night Market is not well advertised, but if you know where the gate to this world is, then you can get here.”
“And how do you find out about a gate?” Even with the slip of my memories, I doubted gates to a cosmic nexus point were advertised.
“You have to be invited. By the Gatekeeper. Or at least that’s how the legend goes. I’m not positive, really. I was born here, so I’ve not experienced that myself.” She gestured for me to continue eating. Lo had brought out two more large plates of unrecognizable food during the small duration of our conversation. “The papers are the legitimate proof that you belong here, which is why the Velvet Guard becomes so concerned with them. If you are invited to the Night Market, you have gone through the proper channels. If not, you have snuck in.”
[[What does it matter if you sneak in?]]
[[How do people come and go here? Or is it once you enter the Night Market, you never leave?]]
[[Does being born here mean something different from if you just walked through a gate?]]
“This may be a dumb question, but why would it matter if you snuck in?”
“Not a dumb question. There are no dumb questions,” Hazel said adamantly. “I’m sure for some, sneaking in is not exactly terrible. I’m not one to believe that everyone has nefarious purposes. But for others, well, the concern is they are going to ruin what we have.”
Above us, the lanterns swayed softly, as if in response to such a query. The existence of the market being called into question, the idea that it could be threatened, sent a chill through the air.
“The Night Market operates on a sense of secrecy. Since we have access to every reality out there, it could become problematic if the wrong person came here and then exited elsewhere. Or took the information back home of other realities that are easily reached through the market gates. Expansion before a worlds time can be catastrophic and send the entire worlds balance into chaos."
I supposed that was a fair point to make. While I doubted it would be on everyone's agenda, there were more than a few that would take advantage of the power that was contained here. The sheer idea that all realities could bleed together did not work. I didn’t know how it had been maintained here. Though, I supposed that’s what things like the Velvet Guard were for.
[[Do I need to find a gate in order to get home?]]
[[Has someone taken this information back to their home before and used it?]]
[[How do people come and go here? Or is it once you enter the Night Market, you never leave?]]
“So how do people leave?” I was unsure just how many inhabitants there were to a place that was limitless, but I doubted even it could contain every life that walked through its gates, trapping them here until death claimed their final breath.
“A lot of times they don’t leave,” Hazel said. Frustration was twisting her lips in a way I couldn’t fully understand. “They fall in love with the market and choose to stay. Other times they can’t find their gate to get home. It didn’t use to be this way,” she explained. “You could petition the Gatekeeper and get to and from the worlds if need be. And if you came through a secret gate, you always had knowledge of where that gate was in case you wanted to go home. In fact, some only came through on short term visas, indulging in a shopping trip before returning to their land. I’m not sure if that’s really done anymore.”
Thinking of the Night Market in terms of a vacation spot felt odd. A place to shop and partake in leisure seemed to be what the name of the world boasted. Yet, oddly, it did not fit. “I don’t understand. If it wasn’t always like this, then what happened? Where is the Gatekeeper? I could talk to them maybe and plead my case.” I wasn’t meant to be here. If I could explain that to them then perhaps…
“No one knows where the Gatekeeper is,” Hazel said softly, interrupting me before I spiraled down a dead end path. “The last one we all knew of died a long time ago, and their replacement doesn’t seem to like being a public figure.”
[[Next|Chapter Two Hazel 2]]I looked at Hazel, trying to discern if anything about her screamed the Night Market. As if the place itself had a prominent nationality. Though from what I had seen so far, the market was a mixture of ethnicities and species.
“If you’re born here, does it mean something different?” I asked. “Does it set you aside from the people who walk through the gates and move here?”
“Yes and no,” Hazel said, picking at her food. “I mean, you learn to notice things a bit better. I think if you’re born here, there are just certain things you take for granted that others don't even see."
“Like what?”
“Magic. Seeing its tendrils where they shouldn’t be. The shifting of the land. The way it expands and contracts to make way for new gates and new forms of life. There are areas of the Night Market that didn’t exist when I was little. Other areas disappeared completely, taking the people along with it.” There was a fear in her eyes at that. Genuine terror that I could see she tried not to let shake her hands.
I decided to drop the subject then, not wanting to upset her further.
[[How do people come and go here? Or is it once you enter the Night Market, you never leave?]]
[[Do I need to find a gate in order to get home?]]“In order to go home, will I need to find a gate back to my world?” It at least seemed a little more straight forward than what I was previously thinking. Though, I really should have known it wouldn’t be so simple.
“Yes and no. There’s an issue with the gates.” Her face looked worried as she began fidgeting with the napkin in her lap. “You see, the gates aren’t common knowledge to people here, either. At least you know that the Night Market trusts not even its own residences.”
“What do you mean they’re not common knowledge? Can’t you just see them?”
“Unless it is your gate? No. And even then, if you don’t know what you’re looking for, you could pass your gate a dozen times. It doesn’t have to look like an actual gate or door. It could be a gem. A leaf on a tree. It could even be a person. Or so rumors say.”
“So how do people leave?” I was unsure just how many inhabitants there were to a place that was limitless, but I doubted even it could contain every life that walked through its gates, trapping them here until death claimed their final breath.
“A lot of times they don’t leave,” Hazel said. Frustration was twisting her lips in a way I couldn’t fully understand. “They fall in love with the market and choose to stay. Other times they can’t find their gate to get home. It didn’t use to be this way,” she explained. “You could petition the Gatekeeper and get to and from the worlds if need be. And if you came through a secret gate, you always had knowledge of where that gate was in case you wanted to go home. In fact, some only came through on short term visas, indulging in a shopping trip before returning to their land. I’m not sure if that’s really done anymore.”
Thinking of the Night Market in terms of a vacation spot felt odd. A place to shop and partake in leisure seemed to be what the name of the world boasted. Yet, oddly, it did not fit. “I don’t understand. If it wasn’t always like this, then what happened? Where is the Gatekeeper? I could talk to them maybe and plead my case.” I wasn’t meant to be here. If I could explain that to them then perhaps…
“No one knows where the Gatekeeper is,” Hazel said softly, interrupting me before I spiraled down a dead end path. “The last one we all knew of died a long time ago, and their replacement doesn’t seem to like being a public figure.”
[[Next|Chapter Two Hazel 2]]“Has this happened before?” I asked. “It seems like an awful lot of secrecy put into place just to be proactive.”
“I’m not really sure. No one knows how old the Night Market is. Because of this, it’s hard to tell why a policy was put into place. I mean, I can see the reason behind it. Even if it does seem a bit paranoid. But I can name at least a dozen people who, if given the opportunity, would sell Night Market information to the highest bidder.”
I didn’t doubt it. Even without my memories, the deceitfulness of other living beings seemed prevalent. Like a truth that ticked at the back of my brain. I couldn’t quite remember why I knew her words to be true. Or at least something like her words. But the knowledge that they were was ever present and unshakable.
[[Do I need to find a gate in order to get home?]]
[[How do people come and go here? Or is it once you enter the Night Market, you never leave?]]Whatever I could say in response to that was cut off as Lo started clearing the dishes. She was still eyeing me warily, but not with as much open hostility as before. “Want me to send the leftovers to the shop?” she asked Hazel.
Hazel shook her head, waving the woman off. “Of course not. Set them aside for the next person looking for food.”
Lo’s deep brown eyes softened as she reached forward, cupping the girl's cheeks in her withered hands. “You’re too kind, little one. Don’t ever let the world make you think different.”
Hazel leaned into the touch for a moment before Lo’s hands dropped. With nothing to gather, I stood, waiting by Hazel’s side as she dug something out of her pockets. It was a small vial, shimmering brown and slightly oily. Lo looked as if she were about to protest when Hazel shoved it into her hands, curling her own fingers around the woman's in a closed fist.
“No arguing,” Hazel said softly. “We take care of our own.”
Lo didn’t answer, her eyes filling with tears as she nodded at Hazel. Hazel leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the woman’s cheek, before turning back towards me. “Come on. Let’s get you to the shop. You must be dead on your feet by now.”
We walked in relative ease. I couldn’t help but notice how Hazel kept her head ducked down, not making eye contact with most of the patrons inhabiting the cobblestone streets. While I didn’t see any signs of outward hostility towards her, I didn’t put it past anyone to do so. Hazel looked as if she had gotten good at keeping herself small and making sure that she wasn’t a nuisance to anyone passing by. She seemed like the type of woman who went out of her way to make herself unobtrusive.
Winding our way past the multicolored awnings, past a few stalls that were serving steaming mugs of something hot and aromatic, we wandered through a short alley way, lit in amber and littered with the occasional food wrapper. We emerged into a small courtyard. A large fountain stood in the center, made of rounds of aged stone and teaming with moss. It trickled pleasantly, splashing over the bottom basin to create a cool, damp ring of water around the cobblestones.
“There are a few little things you might need to know,” Hazel said, speaking for the first time since we left the market. “I figured I’d just talk at you about them instead of waiting for you to discover the right question.”
Digging a small bit of metal from her pocket, she flipped it into the water, making a small sigil in the air. Nothing was born of her actions leaving me to believe this to be habit more than anything else.
“There are nine barons within the Night Market. They are the ones who are supposed to rule the proper itself. Though, they are more like a council of representatives.” She began moving towards a darker alley, the likes of which the lanterns did not extend to. “Barons come, and they go, and not a lot changes within the market. I think the Barons are more a formality and scapegoat if something goes truly wrong within the world.”
[[Stay silent and choose just to listen]]
[[Is the Gatekeeper a Baron]]
[[Could I appeal to one of the Barons for help?]]
I stayed silent, listening to the woman speak as we walked through the narrow passages. Everything was bleeding together by now, and I doubted I’d be able to make it back to Lo’s stall if asked. I absently wondered if there was a map to the Night Market that I could obtain. How I was ever going to navigate these maze-like streets was beyond me.
“Magic is present here,” Hazel lightened her voice, trying to keep our conversation upbeat to keep me awake. “Though I suppose you wouldn’t remember if that should be odd to you or not. But it is a thing. Sort of. When you enter through the gates, you are stripped of any magic you might have in order to hopefully level everyone's status here. The only ones truly allowed to have magic are the Barons. You can buy it though if you find yourself really in need.”
“You can buy magic?” I wondered where that district was and what that would even begin to look like.
“Oh yes,” Hazel perked up at my interest. “You absolutely can. You just need to be careful that you are buying from a shop owner that knows what they’re doing. Too often, they have this tendency of selling knock offs that are nothing more than cheaply spun metal. They look pretty, though.”
The alley opened before us into something dark and looming. Pain bloomed at the base of my skull as my eyes adjusted to the sudden dark. With my belly full of food, I was more tired than I had given myself credit for. That, or the adrenaline was finally starting to wane.
I shuffled after Hazel in silence, and she seemed all too happy to let my brain rest. Occasionally I’d hear a bottle tumble across the ground or the sound of a whisper somewhere from the dark. I didn’t care enough to look up and investigate, however.
The alley smelled of smoke while the heat of some long burnt out fire still lingered. It was not a well inhabited place within the market, the burnt out shops all empty husks that lined the street. Hazel walked past them all without a second look. As sad as the desolation was, it was clearly not new to her.
“That’s my home,” she said, pointing towards the end of the alley. A green film wavered before us, blocking whatever laid beyond. I could see murky shapes and blobs of color but couldn’t make any of it out. “You’ll be safe there.”
[[Next|Chapter Two Hazel 4]]
“Is the Gatekeeper a Baron?” The Barons were the people in power, and yet it so far felt as if the Gatekeeper was the one holding all the cards.
“Technically,” Hazel said. “They are considered one of the nine, but I hear there is a movement to try and depose them from being a Baron. How they would do that when they have no idea where they are? I don’t know. I think everyone is just as frustrated as you are about their absence from the market.”
It had been worth asking, but I knew that if it were that simple, Haze would have told me already.
“Magic is present here,” Hazel lightened her voice, trying to keep our conversation upbeat to keep me awake. “Though I suppose you wouldn’t remember if that should be odd to you or not. But it is a thing. Sort of. When you enter through the gates, you are stripped of any magic you might have in order to hopefully level everyone's status here. The only ones truly allowed to have magic are the Barons. You can buy it though if you find yourself really in need.”
“You can buy magic?” I wondered where that district was and what that would even begin to look like.
“Oh yes,” Hazel perked up at my interest. “You absolutely can. You just need to be careful that you are buying from a shop owner that knows what they’re doing. Too often, they have this tendency of selling knock offs that are nothing more than cheaply spun metal. They look pretty, though.”
The alley opened before us into something dark and looming. Pain bloomed at the base of my skull as my eyes adjusted to the sudden dark. With my belly full of food, I was more tired than I had given myself credit for. That, or the adrenaline was finally starting to wane.
I shuffled after Hazel in silence, and she seemed all too happy to let my brain rest. Occasionally I’d hear a bottle tumble across the ground or the sound of a whisper somewhere from the dark. I didn’t care enough to look up and investigate, however.
The alley smelled of smoke while the heat of some long burnt out fire still lingered. It was not a well inhabited place within the market, the burnt out shops all empty husks that lined the street. Hazel walked past them all without a second look. As sad as the desolation was, it was clearly not new to her.
“That’s my home,” she said, pointing towards the end of the alley. A green film wavered before us, blocking whatever laid beyond. I could see murky shapes and blobs of color but couldn’t make any of it out. “You’ll be safe there.”
[[Next|Chapter Two Hazel 4]]
“Could I appeal to one of the Barons for help,” I asked.
“It won’t do you any good if you don’t know where your gate is. Or even the name of your home.” She tossed me an apologetic look. I couldn’t say I was all that surprised. “I’m sorry. The frustration of the Gatekeeper is one that that barons deal with quite frequently as well. Their absence is a sore point to many.”
It had been worth asking, but I knew that if it were that simple, Haze would have told me already.
“Magic is present here,” Hazel lightened her voice, trying to keep our conversation upbeat to keep me awake. “Though I suppose you wouldn’t remember if that should be odd to you or not. But it is a thing. Sort of. When you enter through the gates, you are stripped of any magic you might have in order to hopefully level everyone's status here. The only ones truly allowed to have magic are the Barons. You can buy it though if you find yourself really in need.”
“You can buy magic?” I wondered where that district was and what that would even begin to look like.
“Oh yes,” Hazel perked up at my interest. “You absolutely can. You just need to be careful that you are buying from a shop owner that knows what they’re doing. Too often, they have this tendency of selling knock offs that are nothing more than cheaply spun metal. They look pretty, though.”
The alley opened before us into something dark and looming. Pain bloomed at the base of my skull as my eyes adjusted to the sudden dark. With my belly full of food, I was more tired than I had given myself credit for. That, or the adrenaline was finally starting to wane.
I shuffled after Hazel in silence, and she seemed all too happy to let my brain rest. Occasionally I’d hear a bottle tumble across the ground or the sound of a whisper somewhere from the dark. I didn’t care enough to look up and investigate, however.
The alley smelled of smoke while the heat of some long burnt out fire still lingered. It was not a well inhabited place within the market, the burnt out shops all empty husks that lined the street. Hazel walked past them all without a second look. As sad as the desolation was, it was clearly not new to her.
“That’s my home,” she said, pointing towards the end of the alley. A green film wavered before us, blocking whatever laid beyond. I could see murky shapes and blobs of color but couldn’t make any of it out. “You’ll be safe there.”
[[Next|Chapter Two Hazel 4]]
Exiting the alley, we emerged into a circular den filled with the most resplendent colors I think I had ever seen. It was a far cry from the almost shifting grey of the alley we had been traveling down. Large flowers of the deepest mauve crawled up the far wall, stretching out to wrap around the arching branches of a white birch tree. Beneath the tree was a grove of herbs, leaving the air aromatic and smelling like a meadow would after the first rain. There were clay pots filled with the brightest flowering shrubs of yellow and orange, and a large caged area where ripe and supple fruits hung from strong vines. My eyes went wide at the sudden change.
A path of broken gems and glass wound between all of this, the small shards glittering and sending up little motes of iridescent dust. The ground looked as if it glowed, as a thin shimmering fog settled about our ankles.
“Oh good,” Hazel breathed. “Milo kept the fire going.”
A house sat in the very back, nearly obscured by the jeweled tones of life that sprouted up around it. By no means was it anything special. A large stone archway with a broken gate stood before it, the moss covered slate half walls that wrapped outwards looked crumbling in certain places. The house itself was made of wood, stained-glass windows and circular portcullises inlay haphazardly against the walls. The chimney puffed sweet smelling smoke from a bent and whistling pipe, and the roof was shingled with various shades of what looked like damp cedar. The house was two strong winds from falling apart. But I didn’t dare speak such a thought out loud.
When I turned to Hazel, she was not there. Instead, a pile of willow sticks and brambles laid at my feet. My head whipped around as I tried to find her, the twigs that I could have sworn were not there before, being carried away by little balls of blue light.
“There you are.” Jumping, I turned to see Hazel coming in from what looked like a back garden. Her face was far more flushed than I had seen it and she was wiping her hands on her skirts. Looking back and forth from the spot she had been to the spot she was now, I opened my mouth in question.
“Do you want any more food before bed?” Hazel asked, taking the steps up to the front door. “Or would you like–” A wave of heat barreled towards us as Hazel opened the front door. It knocked her back and instinctively, I reached out to steady her. “Milo, what are you doing?” she shouted, straightening from my hold and marching inside the shop.
The shop itself was filled to the brim with barrels and crates, overflowing with various vegetables and herbs. Bundles of dried goods hung from the rafters while a large stone fireplace stood predominantly towards the back of the room. To the other side, I could see a wrought iron staircase that led up to some form of upper landing, and a wall of tonics and herbs situated behind a worn yew counter.
But what caught my attention far more than anything in my surroundings, was the curly haired man that stood in the center of the room, waving a broom around menacingly.
“The wisps are back at it,” he glared.
Hazel sighed. “Billows is more than capable of-” Hazel’s words were cut off, this time by a large orb of cerulean blue diving downwards towards the man, who swatted at it with the large end of the broom.
“Bill is good for nothing,” he yelled at her.
[[Stand safely outside. This was well beyond what you could do]]
[[Jump in and try to help bat the wisps away]]Another orb shot downwards, this time towards Hazel and I, causing me to jump out of the way. Hazel ducked all the way to the ground, swatting at the air as if to keep the attacking balls of light at bay. “That’s not true,” she protested. I backed myself up into the doorway, not sure how I could even begin to help.
“Then why the hell am I being accosted by fairy lights?” The man's voice was loud, echoing across the room. It was one of the many mistakes he had made to lead him to this point. Because on his last syllable, the room exploded with life.
Out of the rafters up above, from behind the thick and dusty books, came dozens of little orbs of blue, skittering across the floor and down over the railing. They tumbled down a spiral staircase near the back and emerged from behind a large wooden counter that blocked shelves filled with herbs and other jars of apothecary needs. They flitted and tumbled about with an odd zipping sound, knocking at Milo’s crate and coming at us with lightning speed. From somewhere out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a large grey cat stalking one, his eyes glowing gold in the dark light of the shop.
“Hazel, get rid of them!” the man shouted. They were clinging to his shirt, tugging on a mass of jangling keys at his hip and the chains he wore around his neck.
“They’re agitated,” she called out. “We’ll need to calm them down.”
“How the hell do we do that?”
“Well, you could stop yelling for one. They feed off others' energy. If you are upset, they will be upset. You need to stay calm.”
“I am calm!” he bellowed. More wisps began rising from the cracks within the floors, the dark stained floorboards shuddering with blue light and sending bottles and books falling from their shelves to crash in a broken array of herbs and questionable liquid.
[[Suggests the man leaves if he is the source of aggrevation]]
[[Try to calm the man down]]Another orb shot downwards, this time towards Hazel and I, causing me to jump out of the way. Hazel ducked all the way to the ground, swatting at the air as if to keep the attacking balls of light at bay. “That’s not true,” she protested. I walked in without hesitation, grabbing a broom that leaned by the door and trying to bat at the wisps that began circling. At the first swing, they were on me, tugging at the thrush of the broom and sending flecks of straw to the floor.
“Then why the hell am I being accosted by fairy lights?” The man's voice was loud, echoing across the room. It was one of the many mistakes he had made to lead him to this point. Because on his last syllable, the room exploded with life.
Out of the rafters up above, from behind the thick and dusty books, came dozens of little orbs of blue, skittering across the floor and down over the railing. They tumbled down a spiral staircase near the back and emerged from behind a large wooden counter that blocked shelves filled with herbs and other jars of apothecary needs. They flitted and tumbled about with an odd zipping sound, knocking at Milo’s crate and coming at us with lightning speed. From somewhere out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a large grey cat stalking one, his eyes glowing gold in the dark light of the shop.
“Hazel, get rid of them!” Milo shouted. They were clinging to his shirt, tugging on a mass of jangling keys at his hip and the chains he wore around his neck. I could feel a few begin tugging at the back of my tunic, playing with the ends of my hair in a giggling little whistle.
“They’re agitated,” Hazel called out. “We’ll need to calm them down.”
“How the hell do we do that?”
“Well, you could stop yelling for one. They feed off others' energy. If you are upset, they will be upset. You need to stay calm.”
“I am calm!” he bellowed. More wisps began rising from the cracks within the floors, the dark stained floorboards shuddering with blue light and sending bottles and books falling from their shelves to crash in a broken array of herbs and questionable liquid.
[[Suggests the man leaves if he is the source of aggrevation]]
[[Try to calm the man down]]
[[Hit the wisps in hopes of driving them away]]“If he is the source of their agitation, then maybe he needs to be the one to leave,” I suggested to Hazel, ducking as a few more wisps zipped by, crashing into the wall all the way across the room and nearly shattering the stained-glass window next to the hearth.
“Milo Next, get out of my shop with whatever nervous and angry energy you brought in,” Hazel called out to him. “They were not acting like this before.”
Hopping off the box, Milo stomped over to her, waving the broom around the room in large swings, sending a few of the wisps careening towards the opposite side of the shop. The cat that I had spied earlier was now glowing blue, his cheeks lit up with what I assumed was his prey. He seemed disinterested in the rest that were destroying the shop, and instead munched happily on his spoils.
“Take him out back, please,” Hazel said, casting me a look over her shoulder. The man stormed by me and out the front door, plucking a wisp from his shoulder and throwing it at the wall.
[[Stay with Hazel]]
[[Follow Milo]]<<if $milomeet == "true">> Making my way towards the man, I ducked out of the way of several diving wisps. Still standing on the crate, he swung wildly, shouting at the wisps with some ill-conceived battle cry. I recognized him now that I was up close. He was the man who had approached my cell when I had sent Hazel away. He was the one who told me that I had made a mistake by not trusting her. The friend Hazel had sat was waiting for us.
“Milo, right? Do you remember me?” His eyes ticked downwards, but he didn’t respond. “I don’t think you’re helping. You need to take a few deep breaths and…” he took a particularly violent swing at the ball of light zipping towards him, letting out a string of curses that I wasn’t all together familiar with.
“Milo Next, get out of my shop with whatever nervous and angry energy you brought in,” Hazel called out to him, interrupting my attempts. I could see the wisps tug harshly at her hair. “They were not acting like this before.”
Hopping off the box, Milo stomped over to her, waving the broom around the room in large swings, sending a few of the wisps careening towards the opposite side of the shop. The cat that I had spied earlier was now glowing blue, his cheeks lit up with what I assumed was his prey. He seemed disinterested in the rest that were destroying the shop, and instead munched happily on his spoils.
“Take him out back, please,” Hazel said, casting me a look over her shoulder. Milo stormed by me and out the front door, plucking a wisp from his shoulder and throwing it at the wall. <<elseif $milomeet == "false">> Making my way towards the man, I ducked out of the way of several diving wisps. The man continued swinging wildly as he stood upon the crate, shouting at the wisps with some ill-conceived battle cry. This was the friend Hazel had said was waiting for us.
“Milo, is it?” I asked. He didn’t look down at me. “I don’t think what you’re doing is helping. Maybe just take a few deep breaths and…”
“Milo Next, get out of my shop with whatever nervous and angry energy you brought in,” Hazel called out to him, interrupting my attempts. I could see the wisps tug harshly at her hair. “They were not acting like this before.”
Hopping off the box, Milo stomped over to her, waving the broom around the room in large swings, sending a few of the wisps careening towards the opposite side of the shop. The cat that I had spied earlier was now glowing blue, his cheeks lit up with what I assumed was his prey. He seemed disinterested in the rest that were destroying the shop, and instead munched happily on his spoils.
“Take him out back, please,” Hazel said, casting me a look over her shoulder. Milo stormed by me and out the front door, plucking a wisp from his shoulder and throwing it at the wall.<</if>>
[[Stay with Hazel]]
[[Follow Milo]]I began to swing at the wisps myself. They were multiplying at an almost blinding rate, and I could feel my eyes watering as the room filled with a bright light that burst into cerulean shards that tinkled with laughter before they hit the floor. The man upon the crate started yelling obscenities, ones barely heard over the chaos that was unfolding around us. The blazing fire within the heart was blotted out with the fluttering little creatures, and the corners of the shop were filled with the buzz of their fluttering wings.
“Milo Next, get out of my shop with whatever nervous and angry energy you brought in,” Hazel called out over the wisps. “They were not acting like this before.”
Hopping off the box, Milo stomped over to her, waving the broom around the room in large swings, sending a few of the wisps careening towards the opposite side of the shop. The cat that I had spied earlier was now glowing blue, his cheeks lit up with what I assumed was his prey. He seemed disinterested in the rest that were destroying the shop, and instead munched happily on his spoils.
“Take him out back, please,” Hazel said, casting me a look over her shoulder. Milo stormed by me and out the front door, plucking a wisp from his shoulder and throwing it at the wall.
[[Stay with Hazel]]
[[Follow Milo]]I stared at Hazel as she flinched away from the circling wisps. With Milo gone, they began to calm, but they still flitted around the room, a cyclone of blue spiraling in the center of the floor. Hazel was illuminated by the buzzing light, her back to me as perched her hands on her hips, facing off against whatever it was that was forming. The tinkling laughter turned deeper, the wind within the room picking up into a stinging knife that sliced through the books, sending the volumes scattering across the floor, shredded into ribbons.
“Hazel,” I called out. “What do you need me to do?” I wanted to jump in and help. Hazel looked dwarfed by what was beginning to grow up to the empty rafters above us.
Looking over her shoulder at me, she looked unafraid. “Go check on Milo,” she said with a soft smile. “I got this.” I wanted to protest, feeling uncertain about leaving her in such a storm. But as she turned from me, I watched as the whites of her eyes filled with an inky black. Hands raised, she turned back to the wisps, something green glowing at her fingertips.
“Go,” she requested, standing stock still in the room. “I need you to in order for this to work.”
My emotions. They were fluttering against my chest, feeding the wisps. Being here was doing absolutely nothing to help her. Against my better judgement, I turned to follow Milo.
[[Next|Follow Milo]]Stepping outside, I found Milo standing near the stone archway that led towards the back garden. Basil, tomato and other various fruits and herbs sprouted from plots of churned soil. The distant sound of water trickled somewhere nearby and the air was wet with the dew the breeze carried forth. Milo’s cheeks were red, and his eyes narrowed into angry slits as he brushed off the white sleeves of his shirt. I could see a fine layer of glitter coating his clothes.
The teal glow from the trees lit the garden along with the faint ambience from the market beyond. Compared to the shop, I could get a better look at the man. <<if $meetmilo == "false">> He wore brown trousers with a tucked in white shirt, the latter of which was unbuttoned slightly to show several gold chains and a pendent. Suspenders hung loose around his hips, knocking against a bundle of keys and other jagged baubles he wore. His skin looked ruddy from exertion, his hair was in a sweaty heap against his brow, and he looked as if he was trying his best to not go charging back into that shop to seek his revenge.
“Hi,” I said awkwardly.
His head snapped up. It was clear he had not expected me to follow. <<elseif $meetmilo == "true">> He was the one that had stood outside my cage. Hazel’s friend. The very one that had told me that letting her go had been a mistake.
“It’s you,” I said. I had almost forgotten about him.<</if>>
[[I fidgeted under his gaze]]
[[I met his gaze head on]]
[[I matched his glare]]I felt uncomfortable as his honey-brown eyes locked onto me. His movements slowed as he observed me, deciding the kind of person I was. Bursting the last of the glitter from his arms, he tipped his head to the side, narrowing his gaze.
<<if $milomeet == "true">>”Made it out then, huh? Glad you trusted Hazel. Or Mr. Timbers, to be more accurate.” Rolling his shoulders, I watched as the stress dropped from them in thick coils. When he turned his attention back to me, he looked like an entirely different man. Instead of the guarded curiosity and suspicion that had marred his features, he was now relaxed, exuding a sense of welcome. “I’m Milo,” he said.
“I got that.” Hazel had shouted it enough, I was very clear on what his name was.
He laughed a little. When he tilted his head upwards, towards the blue tinted willow trees, I could see his eyes linger. As if he was daring the wisps to come for him again. Through the stained-glass windows of the apothecary, I could see dancing lights. <<elseif $milomeet == "false">>“From the docks, right?”
I swallowed. “I was thinking of them more as cages… but yeah.”
He nodded. “So Mr. Timber strikes again.” His face relaxed. The stress and irritation that had so clearly marked it before melted away as he stepped towards me curiously. “I’m Milo,” he said.
“I got that.” Hazel had shouted it enough, I was very clear on what his name was.
He laughed a little. When he tilted his head upwards, towards the blue tinted willow trees, I could see his eyes linger. As if he was daring the wisps to come for him again. Through the stained-glass windows of the apothecary, I could see dancing lights. <</if>>
[[We should go in and help her]]
[[Is Hazel going to be okay?]]
[[What exactly is going on in there?]]I kept my gaze locked to his, not wanting to show any sort of fear. Fear was beginning to feel like a weakness within the market. One in which others sought with purposeful intention simply to prey upon for amusement. His movements slowed as he observed me, deciding the kind of person I was. Bursting the last of the glitter from his arms, he tipped his head to the side, narrowing his gaze.
<<if $milomeet == "true">>”Made it out then, huh? Glad you trusted Hazel. Or Mr. Timbers, to be more accurate.” Rolling his shoulders, I watched as the stress dropped from them in thick coils. When he turned his attention back to me, he looked like an entirely different man. Instead of the guarded curiosity and suspicion that had marred his features, he was now relaxed, exuding a sense of welcome. “I’m Milo,” he said.
“I got that.” Hazel had shouted it enough, I was very clear on what his name was.
He laughed a little. When he tilted his head upwards, towards the blue tinted willow trees, I could see his eyes linger. As if he was daring the wisps to come for him again. Through the stained-glass windows of the apothecary, I could see dancing lights. <<elseif $milomeet == "false">>“From the docks, right?”
I swallowed. “I was thinking of them more as cages… but yeah.”
He nodded. “So Mr. Timber strikes again.” His face relaxed. The stress and irritation that had so clearly marked it before melted away as he stepped towards me curiously. “I’m Milo,” he said.
“I got that.” Hazel had shouted it enough, I was very clear on what his name was.
He laughed a little. When he tilted his head upwards, towards the blue tinted willow trees, I could see his eyes linger. As if he was daring the wisps to come for him again. Through the stained-glass windows of the apothecary, I could see dancing lights. <</if>>
[[We should go in and help her]]
[[Is Hazel going to be okay?]]
[[What exactly is going on in there?]]My eyes narrowed in a matching glare. I was unsure if I should be suspicious of this man or count him as an ally. His movements slowed as he observed me, deciding the kind of person I was. Bursting the last of the glitter from his arms, he tipped his head to the side, narrowing his gaze.
<<if $milomeet == "true">>”Made it out then, huh? Glad you trusted Hazel. Or Mr. Timbers, to be more accurate.” Rolling his shoulders, I watched as the stress dropped from them in thick coils. When he turned his attention back to me, he looked like an entirely different man. Instead of the guarded curiosity and suspicion that had marred his features, he was now relaxed, exuding a sense of welcome. “I’m Milo,” he said.
“I got that.” Hazel had shouted it enough, I was very clear on what his name was.
He laughed a little. When he tilted his head upwards, towards the blue tinted willow trees, I could see his eyes linger. As if he was daring the wisps to come for him again. Through the stained-glass windows of the apothecary, I could see dancing lights. <<elseif $milomeet == "false">>“From the docks, right?”
I swallowed. “I was thinking of them more as cages… but yeah.”
He nodded. “So Mr. Timber strikes again.” His face relaxed. The stress and irritation that had so clearly marked it before melted away as he stepped towards me curiously. “I’m Milo,” he said.
“I got that.” Hazel had shouted it enough, I was very clear on what his name was.
He laughed a little. When he tilted his head upwards, towards the blue tinted willow trees, I could see his eyes linger. As if he was daring the wisps to come for him again. Through the stained-glass windows of the apothecary, I could see dancing lights. <</if>>
[[We should go in and help her]]
[[Is Hazel going to be okay?]]
[[What exactly is going on in there?]]“I don’t feel right leaving her in there.” I heard no sound coming from inside the apothecary, which made my nerves feel frayed and on edge. “We need to go back in and help her.”
Milo mulled over my words, hands in his pockets as he contemplated what was happening inside. He didn’t seem distressed. In fact, he was much calmer than what he had been when we first walked in. With a slow shake of his head, he turned away from the little cottage with the bent tin chimney. “No. Hazel’s okay. She’s probably the best to take care of that little situation.”
We stood there, awkwardly. The air smelled fresh and filled with dew, but the faint scent of smoke lingered somewhere in the background. From the chimney most likely.
“Sorry you had to walk in on that,” he stated. “I was trying to get the place warm. The wisps chose this evening to try and steal a few dips from the sarsaparilla jar. Wisps love sarsaparilla.”
“And that made them act like that?” I asked, my eyes ticking back towards the window in hopes of seeing some movement inside.
“Ever heard of a sugar high?” he asked.
[[It all looked kind of intense]]
[[What exactly is a wisp]]
[[There looked to be hundreds in there. Are you sure we shouldn't help?]]“Is she going to be okay in there?” I heard no sound coming from inside the apothecary, which made my nerves feel frayed and on edge. It wasn’t that I thought Hazel incapable. Clearly, this was something the two of them had handled before. Still, I hated the idea of leaving someone alone to face a problem.
Milo mulled over my words, hands in his pockets as he contemplated what was happening inside. He didn’t seem distressed. In fact, he was much calmer than what he had been when we first walked in. With a slow shake of his head, he turned away from the little cottage with the bent tin chimney. “No. Hazel’s okay. She’s probably the best to take care of that little situation.”
We stood there, awkwardly. The air smelled fresh and filled with dew, but the faint scent of smoke lingered somewhere in the background. From the chimney most likely.
“Sorry you had to walk in on that,” he stated. “I was trying to get the place warm. The wisps chose this evening to try and steal a few dips from the sarsaparilla jar. Wisps love sarsaparilla.”
“And that made them act like that?” I asked, my eyes ticking back towards the window in hopes of seeing some movement inside.
“Ever heard of a sugar high?” he asked.
[[It all looked kind of intense]]
[[What exactly is a wisp]]
[[There looked to be hundreds in there. Are you sure we shouldn't help?]]“What did I walk in on?” I asked, wondering how much of this was a normal event. Neither her nor Milo looked all that concerned with the events. More annoyed than anything else.
“Will-o-wisps. Horrid little creatures, in my opinion and an infestation to Hazel’s place. They live in that damn tree over there.” A large white birch stood, its branches thick and winding, wrapping around the upper story of the cottage. “Every once in a while, they try to show their dominance. Today their bravery was brought to you by the few dips they took from the sarsaparilla jar. Wisps love sarsaparilla.”
“And that made them act like that?” I asked, my eyes ticking back towards the window in hopes of seeing some movement inside.
“Ever heard of a sugar high?” he asked.
[[It all looked kind of intense]]
[[What exactly is a wisp]]
[[There looked to be hundreds in there. Are you sure we shouldn't help?]]This man, Milo, was looking far more at ease as the silence stretched on inside. While my eyes kept drifting curiously to the window, he was plucking a tomato from the vine and shining it across his shirt.
“It looked intense,” I told him. The little creatures had numbered in the hundreds. An infestation more than anything else.
“Wisps are annoying,” he said, waving away the concern on my face. “This has got to be a sight better than the docks though, huh?”
<<if $milomeet == "false">>”You know where I’m from?”
He put his hands in his pockets. “I do.<</if>>
The clanging of metal chains, encrusting in sea salt and banging against the wood cages, was all a distant echo in my mind. It sent a shiver up my spine all the same. “Yeah. This is better. I think anything might be better than the docks, though.”
“Good thing Hazel has a big heart then.”
The door to the apothecary opened with an echoing squeak from its rusty hinges. Chirping wisps hopped out onto the front landing, rolling across the small foot bridge and up into the nearby birch tree. The leaves began to glow in an iridescent blue, the sky above us brightening. The gray cat ambled out a moment later, his movements slow. He cast Milo an angry look before wandering off somewhere towards the opposite side of the building.
Hazel appeared in the doorway, brushing off her skirts. Tendrils of chocolate colored hair had escaped the large pouf she wore it in, her scarf untied and frayed. She looked around, searching for us, hands going to her hips as she spied Milo.
“Do I even want to know?” she asked with a raised brow.
“I was trying to help,” he protested. “Went to go get that fire warm, and they started in on their bullshit again.”
“That’s not how will-o-wisps work,” she said patiently.
“It’s how they worked today.” He skirted past her, bending to give her a kiss on the cheek, before heading inside. “I like your new shop keep,” he called over his shoulder. Hazel closed her eyes in exasperation.
“Shop keep?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You absolutely do not need to work for me. Don’t listen to whatever it is he just said. I didn’t buy your bail to make you work here.”
“You need help,” Milo’s voice came in from inside. “Orders are piling up.”
Hazel sighed, but didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she painted on a smile directing her concern towards me, trying her hardest to ignore him. “Would you like me to show you to your room?”
[[Are you okay?]]
[[Sleep sounds nice]]
[[I don't know if I can sleep after all this]]My eyes ticked upwards towards the luminescent trees. I could see a few of these wisps, hovering, darting into the boughs to disappear inside. The tree itself was lit with them, glowing a pulsing soft blue that glittered under the light of a paper moon.
“What is a wisp exactly?” I asked, still staring at the tree and trying to discern what was a leaf and what was one of the little light creatures.
“Fae,” he said simply. “Garden and forest fae, really. Or at least these are. I think they’re attracted to what Hazel grows.” I had seen quite a few hovering around her garden when we had first entered and most likely, her shop was also supplied with the herbs out back.
“They love sweet things,” Milo continued. “Hazel has always had a hell of a time keeping them out of the sarsaparilla and licorice. Tonight, it looks like they took advantage of her being occupied and decided to sample some wares. I found one of the windows cracked. Most likely, they got in that way.”
“They sound like a nuisance,” I said. “Though, they are beautiful.”
Outside, they were much calmer, drifting from the limbs of each tree in a soft dreamy flutter. It was mesmerizing.
Walking towards me, Milo paused, following my line of sight. His hands were in his pockets as he regarded the wisps carefully. “Don’t let them fool you,” he said. “They’re pretty, but they’ll sooner play a trick on you and lead you astray than be of any help.”
Turning, I intended to ask him what he meant by that. But the double doors to the apothecary opened with a loud creak that echoed throughout the garden.
Chirping wisps hopped out onto the front landing, rolling across the small foot bridge and up into the nearby birch tree. The leaves began to glow in an iridescent blue, the sky above us brightening. The gray cat ambled out a moment later, his movements slow. He cast Milo an angry look before wandering off somewhere towards the opposite side of the building.
Hazel appeared in the doorway, brushing off her skirts. Tendrils of chocolate colored hair had escaped the large pouf she wore it in, her scarf untied and frayed. She looked around, searching for us, hands going to her hips as she spied Milo.
“Do I even want to know?” she asked with a raised brow.
“I was trying to help,” he protested. “Went to go get that fire warm, and they started in on their bullshit again.”
“That’s not how will-o-wisps work,” she said patiently.
“It’s how they worked today.” He skirted past her, bending to give her a kiss on the cheek, before heading inside. “I like your new shop keep,” he called over his shoulder. Hazel closed her eyes in exasperation.
“Shop keep?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You absolutely do not need to work for me. Don’t listen to whatever it is he just said. I didn’t buy your bail to make you work here.”
“You need help,” Milo’s voice came in from inside. “Orders are piling up.”
Hazel sighed, but didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she painted on a smile directing her concern towards me, trying her hardest to ignore him. “Would you like me to show you to your room?”
[[Are you okay?]]
[[Sleep sounds nice]]
[[I don't know if I can sleep after all this]]My eyes ticked upwards towards the luminescent trees. I could see a few of these wisps, hovering, darting into the boughs to disappear inside. The tree itself was lit with them, glowing a pulsing soft blue that glittered under the light of a paper moon. They were nothing like the ones I had seen inside, twisting together to become a tornado of iridescent light, intent to descend upon Hazel with little thought to their actions.
My eyes ticked back towards the nearly silent apothecary. “Are you sure she’ll be okay? There looked like there were hundreds in there.” How would one woman face off against so many?
Milo fiddled with an unlit cigarette, but I could see the way he eyed the apothecary windows, waiting for signs of distress. When none was forthcoming, he sighed, tucking the cigarette back behind his ear. “She’ll be alright. The wisps have always liked her.”
“Still,” I started, glancing towards the stained-glass window.
“What would you do if you went in there?” he asked. It wasn’t a challenge. More of a curiosity.
“I don’t know. I just don’t like the idea of her alone.”
“You don’t know her,” he pointed out. She’ll be fine.
When the doors to the apothecary opened at his words, I jumped. The sound of rusted hinges echoed throughout the garden.
Chirping wisps hopped out onto the front landing, rolling across the small foot bridge and up into the nearby birch tree. The leaves began to glow in an iridescent blue, the sky above us brightening. The gray cat ambled out a moment later, his movements slow. He cast Milo an angry look before wandering off somewhere towards the opposite side of the building.
Hazel appeared in the doorway, brushing off her skirts. Tendrils of chocolate colored hair had escaped the large pouf she wore it in, her scarf untied and frayed. She looked around, searching for us, hands going to her hips as she spied Milo.
“Do I even want to know?” she asked with a raised brow.
“I was trying to help,” he protested. “Went to go get that fire warm, and they started in on their bullshit again.”
“That’s not how will-o-wisps work,” she said patiently.
“It’s how they worked today.” He skirted past her, bending to give her a kiss on the cheek, before heading inside. “I like your new shop keep,” he called over his shoulder. Hazel closed her eyes in exasperation.
“Shop keep?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You absolutely do not need to work for me. Don’t listen to whatever it is he just said. I didn’t buy your bail to make you work here.”
“You need help,” Milo’s voice came in from inside. “Orders are piling up.”
Hazel sighed, but didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she painted on a smile directing her concern towards me, trying her hardest to ignore him. “Would you like me to show you to your room?”
[[Are you okay?]]
[[Sleep sounds nice]]
[[I don't know if I can sleep after all this]]I looked at her incredulously. She stood there, back to her shop, unconcerned with what had just happened. Tendrils of smoke wafted around her feet, billowing out into the cool night air and dissipating among waxy leaves of hosta and sorrel.
“Are you alright?” I asked. There didn’t seem to be a scratch on her, but I still didn’t think I’d be able to focus until I asked.
She looked taken aback by the question, blinking at me with those warm hazel eyes, her heart shaped face softening at my tone. “I’m okay,” she said softly. I could see how my concern lit her cheeks and how she clasped her hands in front of her. Bashful that she hadn’t thought to cover that particular quandary first.
Then, her eyes widened once more, snapping to me. “Are you okay?”
I ticked my eyes to the dark shop behind her. “Yes,” I said. “Although, was that normal?”
I could hear a snort of laughter coming from inside the shop. Presumably from Milo. Hazel’s shoulders dropped in relief as she held out a hand to invite me back inside. “No,” she said, “that was not exactly a normal day. And yet it was common all at once.”
I stared at her, close to her side now, our shoulders brushing. I thought I would fall against her and sleep right there.
Inside, I took a better look at the shop. It seemed dark, lit only by half burnt candles and the big fire now blazing in the hearth. I could see where the glass had shattered in the chaos. Milo stood near a particularly sharp looking pile, scooping it up into a dust pan. He glanced up at us as we walked in.
“Um, this is my shop,” Hazel was saying. “I have a little apartment upstairs with extra rooms. That’s where you’ll stay. I figured you could sleep for a bit and when you get up, maybe we’ll have a better idea of what is going on with you and how to get you home?” There was something in her words that made Milo look at her sharply.
“Don’t give ?them hope like that, Hazel.”
“It’s a hope that ?they should have,” Hazel protested. “I’m not going to sit back and just let another soul get sucked in by the Night Market. There’s been far too many the last few years.”
Milo sighed, continuing to clean the floor and the destruction I could see littered around the room. There was the distinct impression that he wanted to say more, but perhaps out of respect for the woman standing between us, it was a conversation not worth having yet.
“I’m confused,” I started. “Is it possible for me to get home or not?”
“Yes,” Hazel answered, right as Milo gave a resounding “Hopefully.”
The two of them stared at each other for a moment, a silent conversation exchanged in a war that I was almost certain was not new to them. Neither looked like they breathed as the moments ticked by. It allowed a few of the wisps that had lingered, to escape, slipping past our ankles and into the garden beyond.
“I’ll rephrase,” Milo conceded. Turning his attention towards me, he crossed his arms before his chest. “You're mind-wiped,” he said.
“You can see that?” Was I wearing some sort of sign?
“Just a hunch.” Pushing away from the counter, he left the broom propped there. He stood before me, head tilted to the side and again, I couldn’t help but feel as if he were searching for something.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“$name.”
“$name. You have no memory,” he started gently. “No idea where your world is or what it was, right?” I nodded my head. “The most logical thing would be to look for your gate home but that's a bit difficult if you don’t know where home is. So,” he said, his gaze a bit more sympathetic now that he was up close. “I hope that we can help you. I really do because I do not envy the position you are in. However,” he kept his eyes from Hazel. “I am not going to be able to promise a miracle.”
[[I'm not looking for a miracle. Just a way home]]
[[I understand. I'm just thankful for help]]
[[I'll find my own way home]]Sleep. It had been something that alluded me for so long. I had felt it creeping at the corners of my mind since the adrenaline faded and the majority of the danger past. The food had helped settle me even further and now, after the excitement of whatever the wisps were, I felt my body weighed down, a deep desire to just sink into the earth overtaking me.
“Sleep sounds nice,” I admitted to her.
There was a softness to her as she listened to my words. Holding out her hand, Hazel invited me to come inside once more, this time, however, without the presence of the blue wisps. “I promise you,” she said, ushering me forward. “That is not a normal day in my shop. Though I must admit, it also isn’t uncommon.”
I stared at her, close to her side now, our shoulders brushing. I thought I would fall against her and sleep right there.
Inside, I took a better look at the shop. It seemed dark, lit only by half burnt candles and the big fire now blazing in the hearth. I could see where the glass had shattered in the chaos. Milo stood near a particularly sharp looking pile, scooping it up into a dust pan. He glanced up at us as we walked in.
“Um, this is my shop,” Hazel was saying. “I have a little apartment upstairs with extra rooms. That’s where you’ll stay. I figured you could sleep for a bit and when you get up, maybe we’ll have a better idea of what is going on with you and how to get you home?” There was something in her words that made Milo look at her sharply.
“Don’t give ?them hope like that, Hazel.”
“It’s a hope that ?they should have,” Hazel protested. “I’m not going to sit back and just let another soul get sucked in by the Night Market. There’s been far too many the last few years.”
Milo sighed, continuing to clean the floor and the destruction I could see littered around the room. There was the distinct impression that he wanted to say more, but perhaps out of respect for the woman standing between us, it was a conversation not worth having yet.
“I’m confused,” I started. “Is it possible for me to get home or not?”
“Yes,” Hazel answered, right as Milo gave a resounding “Hopefully.”
The two of them stared at each other for a moment, a silent conversation exchanged in a war that I was almost certain was not new to them. Neither looked like they breathed as the moments ticked by. It allowed a few of the wisps that had lingered, to escape, slipping past our ankles and into the garden beyond.
“I’ll rephrase,” Milo conceded. Turning his attention towards me, he crossed his arms before his chest. “You're mind-wiped,” he said.
“You can see that?” Was I wearing some sort of sign?
“Just a hunch.” Pushing away from the counter, he left the broom propped there. He stood before me, head tilted to the side and again, I couldn’t help but feel as if he were searching for something.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“$name.”
“$name. You have no memory,” he started gently. “No idea where your world is or what it was, right?” I nodded my head. “The most logical thing would be to look for your gate home but that's a bit difficult if you don’t know where home is. So,” he said, his gaze a bit more sympathetic now that he was up close. “I hope that we can help you. I really do because I do not envy the position you are in. However,” he kept his eyes from Hazel. “I am not going to be able to promise a miracle.”
[[I'm not looking for a miracle. Just a way home]]
[[I understand. I'm just thankful for help]]
[[I'll find my own way home]]Sleep. It had been something that alluded me for so long. I had felt it creeping at the corners of my mind since the adrenaline faded and the majority of the danger past. The food had helped settle me even further, but after the excitement that had just occurred, I wasn’t sure if my body would be able to settle.
“Maybe in a few minutes,” I told her. “It’s not every day you see what I just saw.”
“Stick around,” she said with a wink. “I promise you this will not be the last of our grand adventures.” I was unsure if my mind could handle any more adventures for the day, but the sense of calm that was starting to settle now that I was in relative safety was a welcomed feeling.
“Come on,” she beckoned, “let's get you inside and behind some closed doors. I think it is time to put an end to your adventures for the day. Quite a lot has happened to you.” That, I could not disagree with. Life had tumbled into something fast and confusing, and I had been given little time to think about just what exactly that would not mean for me.
Inside, I took a better look at the shop. It seemed dark, lit only by half burnt candles and the big fire now blazing in the hearth. I could see where the glass had shattered in the chaos. Milo stood near a particularly sharp looking pile, scooping it up into a dust pan. He glanced up at us as we walked in.
“Um, this is my shop,” Hazel was saying. “I have a little apartment upstairs with extra rooms. That’s where you’ll stay. I figured you could sleep for a bit and when you get up, maybe we’ll have a better idea of what is going on with you and how to get you home?” There was something in her words that made Milo look at her sharply.
“Don’t give ?them hope like that, Hazel.”
“It’s a hope that ?they should have,” Hazel protested. “I’m not going to sit back and just let another soul get sucked in by the Night Market. There’s been far too many the last few years.”
Milo sighed, continuing to clean the floor and the destruction I could see littered around the room. There was the distinct impression that he wanted to say more, but perhaps out of respect for the woman standing between us, it was a conversation not worth having yet.
“I’m confused,” I started. “Is it possible for me to get home or not?”
“Yes,” Hazel answered, right as Milo gave a resounding “Hopefully.”
The two of them stared at each other for a moment, a silent conversation exchanged in a war that I was almost certain was not new to them. Neither looked like they breathed as the moments ticked by. It allowed a few of the wisps that had lingered, to escape, slipping past our ankles and into the garden beyond.
“I’ll rephrase,” Milo conceded. Turning his attention towards me, he crossed his arms before his chest. “You're mind-wiped,” he said.
“You can see that?” Was I wearing some sort of sign?
“Just a hunch.” Pushing away from the counter, he left the broom propped there. He stood before me, head tilted to the side and again, I couldn’t help but feel as if he were searching for something.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“$name.”
“$name. You have no memory,” he started gently. “No idea where your world is or what it was, right?” I nodded my head. “The most logical thing would be to look for your gate home but that's a bit difficult if you don’t know where home is. So,” he said, his gaze a bit more sympathetic now that he was up close. “I hope that we can help you. I really do because I do not envy the position you are in. However,” he kept his eyes from Hazel. “I am not going to be able to promise a miracle.”
[[I'm not looking for a miracle. Just a way home]]
[[I understand. I'm just thankful for help]]
[[I'll find my own way home]]I stared at him steadily. His eyes were soft and round, and the lines that creased his face looked more from laughter than anger. What he was saying felt hurtful, even though I knew he was right. There was very little I had to go on which led to dead end leads. Yet his words stung all the same.
Still, help was at hand. Neither of them were telling me that hope was completely lost. It was more than I had this morning.
“I’m not looking for a miracle,” I told him, keeping my voice even. “Just a way home.”
Something glinted in Milo’s eyes at my words, a pleased expression twitching across his face. Behind me, I could hear Hazel sigh. “No more talk tonight,” she said firmly. “Sleep.”
I took a step back from Milo then, feeling my feet stumble a bit over each other. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you clean this up?” I asked through a yawn.
“Of course not,” she said. “Milo is going to be staying to do that. Aren’t you Milo?”
The sandy-haired man looked at her fondly and picked back up his broom. Without a word, he started cleaning the shop, the sound of tinkling glass brushed into a dustpan, dancing like a melody through the sprawling room.
“Come on,” Hazel intoned. “Sleep. Nothing will be solved tonight.”
[[Next|Chapter Two To bed]]I stared at him steadily. His eyes were soft and round, and the lines that creased his face looked more from laughter than anger. What he was saying felt hurtful, even though I knew he was right. There was very little I had to go on which led to dead end leads. Yet his words stung all the same.
Despite this, these two were still offering salvation. Hazel had risked her own self to get me out of the cells today, and even Milo was making sure my papers were underway, so I could move throughout the Night Market without fear.
“I understand that there is a lot stacked against me,” I said softly. “But I want you both to know that I’m really thankful for the help you have given me so far and would gladly accept whatever more you could offer.”
Something glinted in Milo’s eyes at my words, a pleased expression twitching across his face. Behind me, I could hear Hazel sigh. “You do not need to thank us for common decency,” she said firmly. “Now, I’m afraid I must insist you get some sleep.”
I took a step back from Milo then, feeling my feet stumble a bit over each other. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you clean this up?” I asked through a yawn.
“Of course not,” she said. “Milo is going to be staying to do that. Aren’t you Milo?”
The sandy-haired man looked at her fondly and picked back up his broom. Without a word, he started cleaning the shop, the sound of tinkling glass brushed into a dustpan, dancing like a melody through the sprawling room.
“Come on,” Hazel intoned. “Sleep. Nothing will be solved tonight.”
[[Next|Chapter Two To bed]]I stared at him steadily. His eyes were soft and round, and the lines that creased his face looked more from laughter than anger. His words stung all the same. I didn’t want to hear the reality of my situation tonight. Not after the day I had had. I wanted someone to give me a kernel of hope. I wanted to wake up under my grandmothers quilt. I wanted this nightmare to end.
Without a shadow of a doubt, that I needed help. But, as I tilted my chin upwards in defiance, I also needed it to be known that I would do this on my own if I had to.
“I’ll find my way home,” I told Milo. “With or without your help.”
He snorted a little in laughter, nearly rolling his eyes. “Seeing as I’m the one getting your papers, that’s a load of bull.”
“I understand there is a lot stacked against me,” I said. “But I don’t belong here. I’ll find this Gatekeeper or gate or whatever it is that is keeping me here. I’ll get home.”
Something glinted in Milo’s eyes at my words, a brief flash of anger along with the clear line of a challenge. Behind me, I could hear Hazel sigh. “Enough,” she said firmly. “I’m afraid I must insist you get some sleep.”
I took a step back from Milo then, feeling my feet stumble a bit over each other. I didn’t look at him again, not having the strength to keep my own temper under control any longer. The shop was still a mess and despite Milo sparking my anger, Hazel had done nothing wrong. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you clean this up?” I asked through a yawn.
“Of course not,” she said. “Milo is going to be staying to do that. Aren’t you Milo?”
The sandy-haired man looked at her fondly and picked back up his broom. Without a word, he started cleaning the shop, the sound of tinkling glass brushed into a dustpan, dancing like a melody through the sprawling room.
“Come on,” Hazel intoned. “Sleep. Nothing will be solved tonight.”
[[Next|Chapter Two To bed]]Sleep sounded like a far off proclivity that would be snatched from my grasp the second it became obtainable. But the weariness was still there and the backs of my calves were aching. With night being an endless stretch, I was unsure how many days had even passed or if it was mere hours. Adrenaline had begun to seep from me the further from the beach I had gotten, and exhaustion had only been staved off with the presence of food.
“Oh dear.” I heard Hazel gasp as I stumbled. “Come on,” she urged, winding around a particularly foul and blackened mark on her floor. I wondered if that was from the wisps. I also couldn’t help but ponder how such a sweet woman in patchwork skirts, had controlled them so easily and with very little sound. “Let's get you to bed,” she said. I was finally too tired to do much else but follow.
Hazel led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pothos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep who I was willing to put my trust in, for the promise of a few hours of sleep. Maybe in the end, this was nothing more than a vivid dream.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]<img src="images/Ch 2.png"
height="300" width="900">
The lights up above swayed amber and gold. They hung heavy, strung together on thick wire cords that stretched across the long expanse of canvas covered stalls. Plumes of steam drifted upwards, curling around the paper of each heavy light before dissipating into the endless night up above. High walls of oil stained flagstone rose behind each rickety wooden stall, boxing everyone in with one long line. The setup trapped the heady scent of crackling meat and spices, causing them to linger around the bustling bodies of shoppers and eaters. I stared at it all with wide eyes, blinking at the stark difference of the city street stretching before me and the coastal expanse I had been trapped within.
A cracked cobblestone path was at my feet, containing squished together stalls with sweaty workers shouting back and forth as they served whoever sat on the rickety stools balanced on the ground. The alleyway was lively. It was vibrant and spilling with every walk of life. Horned heads ducked down so as not to catch the lanterns while shorter creatures, with the ghosts of wings, sunk between peoples feet. My eyes could barely take it all in.
Gabriel had said to find Hazel Albright. That she was the woman who would help. Now that I was in the Night Market proper, the idea of asking anyone for directions seemed dubious at best. I was covered in sand and sea, and I doubted it took much to realize where I had come from. I must have looked an absolute mess and while my presence hadn’t gained any attention yet, it was only a matter of time.
Scanning the crowd, I looked around for the least threatening individual I could find. Someone I could be certain wasn’t going to ask a ton of questions. The warming scene of something caramelized and nutty reached me first though, dragging my eyes towards a wooden stall with a rough finish, where a set of dark brown eyes stared directly at me.
I froze in the middle of the street, the surrounding crowds forced to change direction and shift out of my way. The woman did not blink, nor did she move from behind the dilapidated stall with the copper vats floating behind her. She had russet skin and a kerchief tied around her head to keep her hair from her eyes. She was older but looked at me with a sharp gaze. Without blinking, she poured a cup of dark, almost black liquid and set it down on a long board that was stained a deep brown.
Hesitantly, I walked towards her.
[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel 2]]
<<set $beginningroute to "fleshpits">>Looking down at the plain clay mug, I could smell that nutty aroma coming from within. There was a faint hint of citrus and while I knew I needed food more than anything, the warmth that was emitting from the strange drink was more than tempting. The chill from the ocean air clung to me like a sickness. <<if $inthepits == "true">>And the slick feel of the decaying felt like an oil spill against my skin.<</if>>
“I don’t have any money,” I admitted, lifting my head to look the woman in the eye.
“Did I ask for any money?” She raised a brow at me. The two of us stood in a standoff that I didn’t think either of us had seen coming. I wasn’t about to defy her, afraid it would make a scene and summon the Velvet Guard. So instead, I sat down on a rickety stool and took the clay mug between both my palms.
[[I appreciate it. You didn’t have to do this]]
[[Do I look that pathetic?]]
[[This is lovely]]The drink was blissfully hot and settled in my belly with just the hint of spice. I could feel it work its magic against me, wrapping around me in such a way that quelled some of the nervous tension that I had running through me in a place so new.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “I really do appreciate it. You didn’t have to do this.”
“You look a mess,” the woman commented. She had a stained rag over her shoulder and I could see the deep lines crisscrossing her hands.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Kafe.”
I rolled the word around on my tongue. There was a certain way they said it. An accent in there that I could quite nab. “Calf?”
She tipped her head to the side. “You say it funny.”
I almost told her I wasn’t from around here, but dipped my head down instead. That was probably not the most ideal move.
“You look a right mess, you know this, correct?”
Sand littered my entire body, caked on the tan clothes that I had been wearing, some sack like material that I wasn’t sure how I had come to be in. Not that you could really tell what it was now. The clothes were practically ruined at this point.
“I’m Neve,” the woman didn’t hold out a hand but instead started grinding salted herbs with her mortar and pestle.
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>I didn't know my name. It had been something I had fought against hard with the Warden. And now, with the simple offering from this woman, I found I simply wanted someone to just know me.
[[My name is...]]<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>“$name.” A fine paste was being ground from whatever Neve was crushing, the powder becoming a burnt red, bordering on brown. “My name is $name.”
“That sounds as if you just made it up,” Neve said.
I laughed a little, feeling it bubble up from inside me without thought. “Yeah,” I croaked in a way of answer. She wasn't exactly wrong.
“Where you headed, $name?” Her eyes finally fell away from mine, unconcerned any longer with who I was. I wondered if she was looking for someone specific.
"I'm not sure. I'm looking for a place to stay. I'm new to the market." I hoped it didn't sound to obvious. Then again, the sand on my clothes might have been a dead give away.
“That so.” The woman sniffed a bit, looking up and down the streets. “Well, the Guard are all down at the docks today. So you have bit of time to look. But if I were new to the market, I'd head towards Hazel Albright's. She's good at keepin' quiet.” She gave me a pointed look.
Tapping my fingers against the mug, I nodded. "Thanks." If she had figured it out that quick, I needed to get off the streets.
“You head on down this street, turn left at the fourth alley. You’ll follow that until you reach a three-tiered fountain. Then, you turn down the dark alley that looks and smells like a bonfire. Hazel’s Apothecary will be at the end of the lane.”
[[Is this woman safe?]]
[[Do you have to give a lot of directions out to people looking like me]]
[[Thank you. I'll be on my way]]<</if>>The drink was blissfully hot and settled in my belly with just the hint of spice. I could feel it work its magic against me, wrapping around me in such a way that quelled some of the nervous tension that I had running through me in a place so new.
“Do I look that pathetic?” I asked. I was sure this woman was only giving her product away due to the right sight that I most likely was.
“You look a mess,” the woman commented. She had a stained rag over her shoulder and I could see the deep lines crisscrossing her hands.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Kafe.”
I rolled the word around on my tongue. There was a certain way they said it. An accent in there that I could quite nab. “Calf?”
She tipped her head to the side. “You say it funny.”
I almost told her I wasn’t from around here, but dipped my head down instead. That was probably not the most ideal move.
“You look a right mess, you know this, correct?”
Sand littered my entire body, caked on the tan clothes that I had been wearing, some sack like material that I wasn’t sure how I had come to be in. Not that you could really tell what it was now. The clothes were practically ruined at this point.
“I’m Neve,” the woman didn’t hold out a hand but instead started grinding salted herbs with her mortar and pestle.
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>I didn't know my name. It had been something I had fought against hard with the Warden. And now, with the simple offering from this woman, I found I simply wanted someone to just know me.
[[My name is...]]<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>“$name.” A fine paste was being ground from whatever Neve was crushing, the powder becoming a burnt red, bordering on brown. “My name is $name.”
“That sounds as if you just made it up,” Neve said.
I laughed a little, feeling it bubble up from inside me without thought. “Yeah,” I croaked in a way of answer. She wasn't exactly wrong.
“Where you headed, $name?” Her eyes finally fell away from mine, unconcerned any longer with who I was. I wondered if she was looking for someone specific.
"I'm not sure. I'm looking for a place to stay. I'm new to the market." I hoped it didn't sound to obvious. Then again, the sand on my clothes might have been a dead give away.
“That so.” The woman sniffed a bit, looking up and down the streets. “Well, the Guard are all down at the docks today. So you have bit of time to look. But if I were new to the market, I'd head towards Hazel Albright's. She's good at keepin' quiet.” She gave me a pointed look.
Tapping my fingers against the mug, I nodded. "Thanks." If she had figured it out that quick, I needed to get off the streets.
“You head on down this street, turn left at the fourth alley. You’ll follow that until you reach a three-tiered fountain. Then, you turn down the dark alley that looks and smells like a bonfire. Hazel’s Apothecary will be at the end of the lane.”
[[Is this woman safe?]]
[[Do you have to give a lot of directions out to people looking like me]]
[[Thank you. I'll be on my way]]<</if>>The drink was blissfully hot and settled in my belly with just the hint of spice. I could feel it work its magic against me, wrapping around me in such a way that quelled some of the nervous tension that I had running through me in a place so new.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “This is absolutely delicious.” I wondered if I had had anything like it before. Maybe this was a common drink. I wanted to believe that it was something mysterious and new, however. That it belonged to the Night Market itself. There had to be something good about this place.
“You look a mess,” the woman commented. She had a stained rag over her shoulder and I could see the deep lines crisscrossing her hands.
“I do,” I agreed slowly. Her eyes continued to pierce mine, as if I were a flickering image she was certain was going to dissipate before her eyes. “What is this?” I asked, hoping to get her to at least blink.
“Kafe.”
I rolled the word around on my tongue. There was a certain way they said it. An accent in there that I could quite nab. “Calf?”
She tipped her head to the side. “You say it funny.”
I almost told her I wasn’t from around here, but dipped my head down instead. That was probably not the most ideal move.
“You look a right mess, you know this, correct?”
Sand littered my entire body, caked on the tan clothes that I had been wearing, some sack like material that I wasn’t sure how I had come to be in. Not that you could really tell what it was now. The clothes were practically ruined at this point.
“I’m Neve,” the woman didn’t hold out a hand but instead started grinding salted herbs with her mortar and pestle.
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>I didn't know my name. It had been something I had fought against hard with the Warden. And now, with the simple offering from this woman, I found I simply wanted someone to just know me.
[[My name is...]]<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>“$name.” A fine paste was being ground from whatever Neve was crushing, the powder becoming a burnt red, bordering on brown. “My name is $name.”
“That sounds as if you just made it up,” Neve said.
I laughed a little, feeling it bubble up from inside me without thought. “Yeah,” I croaked in a way of answer. She wasn't exactly wrong.
“Where you headed, $name?” Her eyes finally fell away from mine, unconcerned any longer with who I was. I wondered if she was looking for someone specific.
"I'm not sure. I'm looking for a place to stay. I'm new to the market." I hoped it didn't sound to obvious. Then again, the sand on my clothes might have been a dead give away.
“That so.” The woman sniffed a bit, looking up and down the streets. “Well, the Guard are all down at the docks today. So you have bit of time to look. But if I were new to the market, I'd head towards Hazel Albright's. She's good at keepin' quiet.” She gave me a pointed look.
Tapping my fingers against the mug, I nodded. "Thanks." If she had figured it out that quick, I needed to get off the streets.
“You head on down this street, turn left at the fourth alley. You’ll follow that until you reach a three-tiered fountain. Then, you turn down the dark alley that looks and smells like a bonfire. Hazel’s Apothecary will be at the end of the lane.”
[[Is this woman safe?]]
[[Do you have to give a lot of directions out to people looking like me]]
[[Thank you. I'll be on my way]]<</if>><<textbox "$name" $name>> \
<<button "Confirm">>
<<set $name to $name.trim()>>
<<if $name is "">>
<<replace "#name-error">>Please enter a name!<</replace>>
<<else>>
<<goto "Flesh Pit Names">>
<</if>>
<</button>> \
<span id="name-error"></span>
<<set $nameself to "true">>
<<set $charactersheet to "true">>[[I identify as Male|Chapter Two Pronouns][$pgen to "0"]]
[[I identify as Female|Chapter Two Pronouns][$pgen to "1"]]
[[I identify as Non binary|Chapter Two Pronouns][$pgen to "2"]]“$name.” A fine paste was being ground from whatever Neve was crushing, the powder becoming a burnt red, bordering on brown. “My name is $name.”
“That sounds as if you just made it up,” Neve said.
I laughed a little, feeling it bubble up from inside me without thought. “Yeah,” I croaked in a way of answer.
“Where you headed, $name?” Her eyes finally fell away from mine, unconcerned any longer with who I was. I wondered if she was looking for someone specific.
I fiddled with my mug, trying to look unassuming. Gabriel had specifically said to find a stall owner and ask for directions. If it wasn’t Neve, it was going to have to be someone else. “Hazel Albright’s. I’m supposed to find her.”
Leaning back against the stone wall, the woman crossed her arms. Copper vats containing kafe were on either side of her, the metal glistening with condensation. “Now why are you going to get yourself involved with an Albright?”
Because the man who was willing to let my body be chopped into pieces told me to.
“She has a room for me,” I said.
“That so.” The woman sniffed a bit, looking up and down the streets. “Well, the Guard are all down at the docks today. So the path to her place should be clear.” She gave me a pointed look. “You head on down this street, turn left at the fourth alley. You’ll follow that until you reach a three-tiered fountain. Then, you turn down the dark alley that looks and smells like a bonfire. Hazel’s Apothecary will be at the end of the lane.”
[[You don’t sound like you are fond of Hazel]]
[[Do you have to give a lot of directions out to people looking like me]]
[[Thank you. I'll be on my way]]I took another deep drink of my kafe and clutched the clay mug tight. I wasn’t ready to slip off into the unknown yet. My feet ached and there was a twinge in my lower back. Gained from any of the numerous escapes that I attempted tonight. “You don’t sound all that certain about Hazel Albright,” I said. “Is there something I need to know before I go there?”
“Why are you going to stay with someone you know nothing about?” she parroted.
“I…”
Neve waved me off before I could stutter over my own words. “I get it. You’re not the first muck covered bag that’s walked out of that alley. You’re safe, for now. The guard aren’t loyal customers of mine, so I’m not inclined to help them out.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything more.
“As for the Albright’s, they’re a decent sort, I guess.” Never sniffed a little, narrowing her eyes at the paste. Grabbing a small wooden spoon, she scooped the contents up. It sat within the basin like sludge. “The mother was down right terrible, but she’s dead now, so we don’t have to worry about that. The brother was a menace, but I haven’t seen him around for years. Hazel’s alright. Just got a bad batch of family, I think.”
Dipping the spoon into a steaming jar of water, she swirled it around. Immediately, my surrounding was filled with floral notes and dark chocolate.
“So she’s safe?”
“Yeah. She’s safe.”
[[Next|Thank you. I'll be on my way]]I took another deep drink of my kafe and clutched the clay mug tight. I wasn’t ready to slip off into the unknown yet. My feet ached and there was a twinge in my lower back. Gained from any of the numerous escapes that I attempted tonight. “Out of curiosity, do you give a lot of cups of kafe to people like me?”
Neve sniffed a little, narrowing her eyes at the paste. Grabbing a small wooden spoon, she scooped the contents up. It sat within the basin like sludge. “What exactly do you mean, people like you?”
Dipping the spoon into a steaming jar of water, she swirled it around in there. Immediately, my surrounding was filled with floral notes and dark chocolate.
“People covered in sand?” I asked.
“You’re being coy because you think someone is listening and while I can guarantee about a dozen ears are, you aren’t that interesting today.” Pushing aside what she had been working on, she quirked a brow towards me. “If you’re asking me if you are the first to have escaped from the bail, I’m gonna tell you no. It happens more often than not, and no one cares enough to come after you because they got better things to do with their time.”
I didn’t know if I felt relieved or not. I still felt like the Velvet Guard was at my back. Like the flesh pits were writhing in front of me. Gabriel’s mark was still burned on my skin.
“Look, if you were someone important, you never would have left that beach.” Never snorted a little, beginning to wipe down her counter. “Not without a member of the Velvet Guard personally escorting you.”
I said nothing. Only stared into the bottom of my now empty cup and hoped my face gave nothing away.
[[Next|Thank you. I'll be on my way]]Pushing my empty mug aside, I gave a warm smile to the woman. I wished I had something I could have given her. At the very least, so I didn’t owe yet another person. The look on my face must have been obvious because she only waved me aside. “Next time I’ll charge you double. Don’t worry.”
I would gladly pay the price if I could figure out how to get a little capital. Though, it was the least of my worries right now. Priority needed to be finding some place safe. Gabriel had said that would be Hazel’s but if for whatever reason that didn’t work out, I would need to find another area to hold up for the night.
“Thank you again,” I told Neve, rising from my seat.
“You owe me eighteen bits for that, Caliban!” I heard someone yell loudly. I ducked my head further down at the angered voice from my right. While I didn’t look, I knew it came from a stall only three down.
“And eighteen bits you shall have, sir! On the fourteenth of June, when the moon is waxing, I shall stand humbly at your door with a bit in hand and a smile upon my soul.” My heart stopped.
“Fuck you and your poetry, boy! You are so full of shit.”
“You wound me, good sir. Absolutely wound me!”
My head snapped up. The voice was familiar, a small reminder of a story within a cell. My head whipped around, looking for the blue-eyed man, but I couldn’t tell which direction his voice had come from, and the market was packed. Not that I would even know what he looked like if I did see him. For a moment I thought about calling out to him, seeing if he would respond, but it all felt in vain.
“You’ll see him again."
My head whipped back towards Neve and for one long moment, I thought she hadn’t even spoken. That I had simply heard what I wanted to.
[[Ask her about him]]
[[Cut your losses. You just needed to get to Hazel’s]]
“Do you– I think I knew that man,” I stated. She tipped her gaze up to me disinterested. But I stared back at her in desperation, terrified for reasons unknown. I just wanted to cling to some sort of familiarity and so far, the blue-eyed man was the only thing that felt familiar.
Neve sighed, sipping at her own mug. “The market is vast and yet small all at once,” she stated cryptically. “My advice to you is to stay the course. Because the market is also adept at providing ample distractions that tear you far from what you are meant to be doing.”
A group of blue tinged individuals with thick bags of coin ambled up to the counter, blocking my view from Neve.
“But–”
“Down the alley,” she called out to me, clearly dismissing me. “Past the three-tiered fountain. Do not look into the fires of the past.”
I stood there at a loss as she turned to the vats, pouring steaming mugs of kafe for the customers that had just gathered. For a moment, I looked up and down the market, as if I would be able to spot the blue-eyed man, but he was nowhere to be found. I was lost in this world. Even if I found my cell companion, there was no guarantee that I would be any better off.
The only option that lay ahead of me was Hazel Albright or the dirty corners of a lantern filled alley. I didn’t relish in taking my chances with the latter.
[[Next|Cut your losses. You just needed to get to Hazel’s]]With a deep breath, I continued down the market path, surrounded by good smelling food I could not buy and dozens of laughing people. I noticed how almost everyone walked in pairs. How despite there being dozens up dozens of people wandering the streets, there was a familiarity here. Like everyone knew each other, or had at least seen each other enough not to count them as a danger.
Suddenly, I felt incredibly alone.
The three-tiered fountain loomed before me. I had heard it long before I came upon the narrow alley that spit me out into a courtyard. The fountain was made of white stone and painted with green algae. Water splashed over the wide rim of the bottom basin. It trickled out onto the cobblestones beneath to create a soft green ring around the fountain's base. Stopping, I looked around. At least ten alleys jutted off from this point, each glowing faintly with a different colored lantern.
Except for the burnt one.
It looked dark, the lanterns hanging at its entrance charred and unlit. Scrawled across the wall just at the opening of the alleyway, was a warning, tinged in something foul smelling and dark.
//Beware the Bog Witch//
I looked around me. A few people wandered by, taking different pathways and paying me no mind. I didn’t know if I should just enter the alley alone, or if I needed protection before venturing down the path. <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>Surely, the Warden wouldn’t send me someplace dangerous. Then again, he had already proven his morals to be dubious.<</if>>
[[Find a weapon of sorts]]
[[Trust that Neve would not steer you wrong]]
[[Face the alley unafraid]]I looked around, desperate to find something to protect myself. If I had been thinking clearly I would have grabbed something earlier. Though, perhaps it was better to do when there was less people around to see. The problem was, this was a well-kept courtyard. Aside from the fountain, and a nearby bench, there was nothing for me to steal. No trees for me to break off a sharp branch. No debris that might contain a jagged bit of metal.
The opening to the alley, however, was crumbling. It was made of the same flagstone walls that the rest of the market was but was littered with charred chunks of stone that had been left to crumble.
I bent down next to a pile of rubble, receiving a look from a beautifully dressed couple as they exited the alley next to this one. I didn’t make eye contact as I picked up a large piece of stone. Was it effective? Maybe not. But if something was to come after me down, I knew I wasn’t going to succumb to them without a fight.
With a deep breath, I stepped within the alley.
The world was new. It sprawled out from beneath my feet in spindly bits of thread, the likes of which felt fragile. Yet, I could not walk through this world afraid. While I didn’t know why I was here, cowering was going to gain me no better answers.
With my chin held high, I set my sights on the alley, stepping through without a second thought.
The sound of the market dimmed.
I don’t quite know what I had been expecting, but it certainly had been nothing to this caliber. The street before me stretched downwards, drifting in a straight line well into a shadowed grey darkness. While the cobblestones beneath my feet were like any of the other paths I had been down, here they were covered in packed soot. It made the normally tawny colored brick drab in color. Even the moss sprouting between the cracks was covered in a fine layer of ash. I clutched the stone in my hand, wary of whatever lurked in the darkened corners. At the very least, I could throw the stone and run the rest of the way to Hazel’s if I were to be attacked.
On either side of the alley were buildings. Crumbling structures that looked as if they had once been well established shops. They had signs and decor out front, all of which were burnt and marred black. Tattered advertisements adorning thick poles that led up to large lanterns above. The buildings were all hollow, though. Empty of anything but a shifting sense of darkness and the smell of smoke.
From inside the shattered windows and broken down doors of each building, I thought I saw movement. Low hums of laughter and conversation that broke into strangled screams. The desperate coughs of someone who couldn’t catch their breath. It sent my heart skittering in my chest as I frantically ticked my eyes back and forth, sure that I would see someone looking back at me from the burnt remains.
[[Call out|Call out 2]]
[[Peer inside one of the shops]]
[[Run|Run Chapter Two]]
<<set $weapon to "true">>It was where Neve had told me to go. I had to believe that safety was just through there, on the other side of what looked like death.
//Beware the Bog Witch//
I read it again. The lack of lantern light was the most foreboding thing before me now and as I stared down into the murky depths of the alley, I continued to remind myself that this was where I was supposed to be.
“Trust,” I whispered to myself. It had to start somewhere.
With a deep breath, I stepped within the alley.
The world was new. It sprawled out from beneath my feet in spindly bits of thread, the likes of which felt fragile. Yet, I could not walk through this world afraid. While I didn’t know why I was here, cowering was going to gain me no better answers.
With my chin held high, I set my sights on the alley, stepping through without a second thought.
The sound of the market dimmed.
I don’t quite know what I had been expecting, but it certainly had been nothing to this caliber. The street before me stretched downwards, drifting in a straight line well into a shadowed grey darkness. While the cobblestones beneath my feet were like any of the other paths I had been down, here they were covered in packed soot. It made the normally tawny colored brick drab in color. Even the moss sprouting between the cracks was covered in a fine layer of ash.
On either side of the alley were buildings. Crumbling structures that looked as if they had once been well established shops. They had signs and decor out front, all of which were burnt and marred black. Tattered advertisements adorning thick poles that led up to large lanterns above. The buildings were all hollow, though. Empty of anything but a shifting sense of darkness and the smell of smoke.
From inside the shattered windows and broken down doors of each building, I thought I saw movement. Low hums of laughter and conversation that broke into strangled screams. The desperate coughs of someone who couldn’t catch their breath. It sent my heart skittering in my chest as I frantically ticked my eyes back and forth, sure that I would see someone looking back at me from the burnt remains.
[[Call out|Call out 2]]
[[Peer inside one of the shops]]
[[Run|Run Chapter Two]]
The world was new. It sprawled out from beneath my feet in spindly bits of thread, the likes of which felt fragile. Yet, I could not walk through this world afraid. While I didn’t know why I was here, cowering was going to gain me no better answers.
With my chin held high, I set my sights on the alley, stepping through without a second thought.
The sound of the market dimmed.
I don’t quite know what I had been expecting, but it certainly had been nothing to this caliber. The street before me stretched downwards, drifting in a straight line well into a shadowed grey darkness. While the cobblestones beneath my feet were like any of the other paths I had been down, here they were covered in packed soot. It made the normally tawny colored brick drab in color. Even the moss sprouting between the cracks was covered in a fine layer of ash.
On either side of the alley were buildings. Crumbling structures that looked as if they had once been well established shops. They had signs and decor out front, all of which were burnt and marred black. Tattered advertisements adorning thick poles that led up to large lanterns above. The buildings were all hollow, though. Empty of anything but a shifting sense of darkness and the smell of smoke.
From inside the shattered windows and broken down doors of each building, I thought I saw movement. Low hums of laughter and conversation that broke into strangled screams. The desperate coughs of someone who couldn’t catch their breath. My eyes ticked back and forth, sure that I would see someone looking back at me from the burnt remains.
[[Call out|Call out 2]]
[[Peer inside one of the shops]]
“Hello?” My voice echoed around me, bouncing through the alley unexpectedly. I could have sworn I heard someone call back in a mimicry of my voice. “Is anyone there?” I took a few more steps forward, my own breath rattle in my ears. “I’m looking for someone. I might be a little lost.”
Neve had said to continue down the alley and I would run right into Hazel’s, but the sound of my own voice, even though it shook, made me feel better. It was the silence that I was beginning to hate. There were pockets of it here. Pockets so dense in the absence of sound that I could feel a monster clutching at my shoulders, threatening to drag me into the dark.
“I don’t mean any harm,” I said, in hopes of keeping at bay anything nefarious. “I just want to pass through.” I couldn’t be the only one who came down this alley. Hazel had to traverse it when she came and went, right? Or maybe there was another way in, and I had taken a wrong turn somewhere. None of this seemed right.
“Hello?” It was not my voice this time that came from the shadows.
I froze, slowly scanning the darkness for whoever had called out.
“Help us,” it moaned. “Please. Help us.”
[[Run|Run Chapter Two]]
[[Where are you?]]Curiosity got the best of me as I walked closer to one of the shops. It looked as if it had once been some sort of herbal store. I saw signs for tonics guaranteeing to help with a better night of sleep. Someone had slashed through it and written the word “Lie”.
Stepping up to one of the broken storefront windows, I peered into the darkness. The shadows were pitch black and even as I narrowed my eyes, I could barely make out shapes within the empty confines. I was sure that there were a few standard items in there. Broken displays. A counter or two. But anything salvageable had long been pilfered.
Then, there was a glow.
It was faint at first. Nothing more than a soft sickly light somewhere near the back. I frowned, not recognizing it as anything you would commonly see. It moved in an odd pattern before splitting into two. As it steadied, it gave the distinct appearance of eyes.
<<if $weapon == "true">>
I clutched the crumbling cinder, my weapon, close. Ready if I needed it.<</if>>
[[Ask if it is okay?]]
[[Don’t mess with it and continue on to Hazel’s]]
I broke out into a run. The sound of my own feet pounded in my ears, but I couldn’t stay here any longer. I felt the breath of the dead on the back of my neck and their lingering stares inviting me to join them. Closing my eyes, I just ran. I bolted down the street and vowed to not stop until I saw some sign of life. Actual life. The entirety of the street felt like one long walk through the afterlife, and I felt myself falling into the terror that was surrounding me as the distant echoes of screams became louder.
Just as suddenly as it had all overwhelmed me, though, it stopped. It was as if I hit a wall of fresh air. I found myself bent forward, sucking it in as if I hadn’t breathed for days. The pungent scent of smoke still coated the inside of my nose and I found myself coughing, flecks of soot falling into my dirty palm.
When I looked up, I had to blink several times. The light here was brighter, despite there being no lanterns flickering above. The oppressive nature of the path here had all but dissipated, replaced instead with the perfect picture of a secluded cottage somewhere in a private wood. And just to my right, hanging from an old rotted out tree, was a sign.
Hazel’s Apothecary.
[[Next|Chapter Two Hazel's Apothecary]]
I looked around for the whispered cry. They sounded hurt. Pain laced their words. I couldn’t tell though what I was listening to. If it was man or woman or child. It sounded distant. Or too weak to call out much louder than it was. There was a small part of me that wondered if they were keeping so quiet out of fear.
“Where are you?” I asked. “I can’t see you.” There was no answer.
There were too many buildings to count, all stretching before me in hollowed out memories. I assumed they were hiding somewhere in there, but short of going through each one, I didn’t know how else to find them.
“Please,” I tried again. “Where are you? If you can just tell me where you-”
A piercing scream ripped through the air along with the crackling of rising flames. I could feel heat lick at my spine as my skin cried out with the feel of fire running across it. I batted at my arms where I felt the burning pain begin to rise, but found nothing. The surrounding air was cold. The alley empty. But the screams were deafening.
As they began to swell, multiple voices chiming in, the cries of small children echoing throughout the street, I felt fear begin to clog my throat. The alley felt as if it were starting to close in around me, and the smoke was filling my lungs.
[[Next|Run Chapter Two]]“Are you okay?” I asked. I wasn’t certain if what I was looking at was even sentient, but I didn’t know what else to do. It had responded to my voice, so that meant it was somewhat cognizant of speech. If it was someone that was hurt, I couldn't just walk away.
“Hello?” I called out again, keeping my voice soft so as not to spook it. Or perhaps, so as not to spook whatever it had been hiding in the shadows from.
It moved a little closer, the shadows around it becoming displaced with a voidless black that sent a shiver down my spine. A set of sickly eyes bobbed up and down, blinking at me and becoming more distinct the longer I llocked my gaze with its own.
\<<if $weapon == "true">> The stone I had clutched so dear fell from my hands.<</if>>\
I felt compelled to reach out. To hold out my hand for this small little creature to come take. It was lost and scared. I could feel its sorrow in my very bones, and my eyes filled with tears. Something horrible had happened here, and this little creature needed my help.
As I lifted my hand, I watched as it grinned. Sharp white teeth peered from within the darkness. It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t-
Down the alley, a bottle skittered across the cobblestones, and I suddenly snapped to. I pulled my hand back just as a blur of sickly white screeched towards me, dripping lanky hair of soot and ash wet against a translucent face with lavender burning eyes and jagged teeth. It stood at the window, not crossing the threshold, just staring at me. When I only stared back, its mouth split in two, and it let out an earth-shattering scream that burst across me like a shot to the chest.
Stumbling backwards, I stared at it as it continued to cry, fire licking the walls behind it, the alley suddenly feeling like it was filled with smoke.
[[Next|Run Chapter Two]]Something didn’t feel right. As the sickly eyes became more distinct and the chill at my back more defined, I felt the hair on my arms begin to rise.
Tearing my own eyes away from the image before me, I began to move down the alley again, keeping my feet at an even pace. Something told me not to look back. Despite the burning desire to do so, I knew that if I did, I would not like what I saw.
Swallowing, I clenched my fists at my side and continued to walk, ignoring the small flickers I saw out of the corner of each eye. They looked distinctly like flames.
After a short while, the shadows began to ebb. I wasn’t sure how long I had walked, nor was I entirely aware of my surroundings. When I reached the end of the alley, I could feel it, though. A shock of fresh air hit me, nearly sending me stumbling back.
The light here was brighter, despite there being no lanterns flickering above. The oppressive nature of the path here had all but dissipated, replaced instead with the perfect picture of a secluded cottage somewhere in a private wood. And just to my right, hanging from an old rotted out tree, was a sign.
Hazel’s Apothecary.
[[Next|Chapter Two Hazel's Apothecary]]A wooded clearing sprawled in front of me, a little cottage situated just at the line of trees. Its side yard opened up into an abundant garden, the fresh scent of basil and tomato vines driving away the last of the smoke. Somewhere, I could hear the sounds of a babbling brook. It lay beyond the crumbling stone fence that surrounded the secluded shop, beyond the flowering bushes of deep burgundy hydrangea and midnight blue roses. Clay pots filled with the brightest flowering shrubs of yellow and orange, and a large caged area where ripe and supple fruits hung from strong vines were gathered nearly everywhere there was open space, lining a broken gemstone path that led straight to the front door.
Looking upwards, I could see the flutter of the trees, the leaves glowing a cerulean blue and chiming like bells as they swayed in a night wind. The smoke from the bent chimney curled within the foliage, but didn’t taint their glittering surface like the alley behind me would have. Instead, the trees seemed leaned away from the smoke, breathing in the sweet scent of freesia and violets.
I blinked, feeling my heartbeat return to normal. The wooden sign next to me swayed gently, creaking with each flick of the chain it hung from.
Hazel’s. The place was Hazel’s.
Despite knowing nothing about the woman, I walked to the front door of the little shop. It didn’t matter what was inside. Nothing in the world could get me to venture back down that alley.
[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel 3]]Cautiously, I stepped up on the front landing. An open sign hung next to the door, a burned image of a curled cat sunk into the wood paneling. As I pushed open the door, a wall of heat hit me. A jumble of bells rang against the hanging open sign on the wrought iron latch. The room itself was dark but filled with the sound of a crackling fire.
“That’s cheating, you know.”
I jumped at the sound of another voice, certain it was directed towards me from out of the dark.
“It is not.”
A woman chimed in this time, and my eyes scanned the shop in hopes of seeing two very real bodies somewhere within.
“I know Bill is looking over my shoulder and reporting back to you.”
“It’s a cat, Milo. I can’t communicate with them.”
“You, Hazel Albright, cannot communicate with what I suspect is your familiar? Lies.”
I heard a soft giggle of laughter and no disagreement from the woman. Hazel Albright. It was who the Warden had told me to seek out. The sound of her name sent relief tumbling through my chest.
It was then I spotted them. Two figures hunched over a low rise table, cards clutched within their hands. The woman sat nearly bent in two, her nose touching the face of her cards as she narrowed her eyes at the pot of chips that lay between them. The man was practically sprawled in repose, grinning at her and bouncing his foot in anticipation.
[[Clear my throat to get their attention]]
[[Call out in greeting]]
[[What the fuck is wrong with that alley back there?]]
The shop itself was dim, lit only by the roaring light of a hearth and a few candles scattered around the room. I cleared my throat to gain their attention. The sign said open, but I didn’t want to presume.
Both pairs of eyes turned towards me. The woman, who I assumed was Hazel, hopped to her feet immediately, tucking the cards in her apron pockets. The sandy-haired man next to her seemed almost disappointed by it.
“Hello,” she said brightly. “How can I help you today?” She had a cherubic face with deep pouty lips. A smattering of freckles were dotted across her golden tan cheeks, the likes of which were plump and tinged peach.
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>“Gabriel Caine sent me?” I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to approach this. If I was to play coy or if I was supposed to just be up front. Gabriel had never really said.
Hazel looked a little confused as she mulled over my words, but over all, she didn’t seem particularly concerned. “Did he need someone else to pick up his tonic?”
I didn’t know what she was talking about or what tonic she was referring to. After that alley, I was starting to wonder if the Warden had sent me into a trap of some sorts. Though, the heart-shaped face and the unruly mop of hair that stared back at me didn’t feel all that threatening.
“No,” I explained. “I uh…” How did you explain that you were slated for the flesh pits only hours before and had run through the sandy beach that should have been your prison, with the very man that had processed you for arrest. “I uh…”
“Haze,” the man interrupted me. I could see the way he looked me over. I had nearly forgotten that I was covered in salt and sand. Grit, along with other questionable fluids I had picked up along the way, staining my clothes and skin.
Hazel frowned for a solid moment before seeming to get what the man behind her was on about. “Oh,” she gasped. She wasted no time after that, rushing past me and flicking her store sign to closed. <<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>I stood there, breathing heavily, still feeling the smoke from the alley coat my skin.
“Excuse me?” I called out to them.
Both pairs of eyes turned towards me. The woman, who I assumed was Hazel, hopped to her feet immediately upon seeing me, tucking her cards in her pockets. The sandy-haired man next to her seemed almost disappointed by it.
“Hello,” she said brightly. “How can I help you today?” She had a cherubic face with deep pouty lips. A smattering of freckles were dotted across her golden tan cheeks, the likes of which were plump tinged peach.
“Uh…” I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go about asking them for help. Did I just state that I had escaped from the bail block and ran blindly into a series of saloons and then the market itself? Did I ask for them to hide me?
“Did you need a tonic?” Hazel asked. She took a step forward, her hands clearly placed in front of her in a non-threatening manner. It was clear she thought I was hurt. And maybe I was. After my escape. After what I had just seen within the alley.
“No,” I explained. “I uh…” I swallowed, my head suddenly feeling muzzy with the day's events.
“Haze,” the man interrupted me. His voice was familiar. It was then I realized it was Milo. The one that had stood outside my cage. "This is the one."
Hazel frowned for a solid moment before seeming to get what the man behind her was on about. “Oh,” she gasped. She wasted no time after that, rushing past me and flicking her store sign to closed.
<</if>>
[[Slump in relief]]
[[Keep wary]]
The shop itself was dim, lit only by the roaring light of a hearth and a few candles scattered around the room. The sign had said open, but it looked like a far cry from a successful business.
“Excuse me?” I called out to them.
Both pairs of eyes turned towards me. The woman, who I assumed was Hazel, hopped to her feet immediately, tucking the cards in her apron pockets. The sandy-haired man next to her seemed almost disappointed by it.
“Hello,” she said brightly. “How can I help you today?” She had a cherubic face with deep pouty lips. A smattering of freckles were dotted across her golden tan cheeks, the likes of which were plump and tinged peach.
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>“Gabriel Caine sent me?” I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to approach this. If I was to play coy or if I was supposed to just be up front. Gabriel had never really said.
Hazel looked a little confused as she mulled over my words, but over all, she didn’t seem particularly concerned. “Did he need someone else to pick up his tonic?”
I didn’t know what she was talking about or what tonic she was referring to. After that alley, I was starting to wonder if the Warden had sent me into a trap of some sorts. Though, the heart-shaped face and the unruly mop of hair that stared back at me didn’t feel all that threatening.
“No,” I explained. “I uh…” How did you explain that you were slated for the flesh pits only hours before and had run through the sandy beach that should have been your prison, with the very man that had processed you for arrest. “I uh…”
“Haze,” the man interrupted me. I could see the way he looked me over. I had nearly forgotten that I was covered in salt and sand. Grit, along with other questionable fluids I had picked up along the way, staining my clothes and skin.
Hazel frowned for a solid moment before seeming to get what the man behind her was on about. “Oh,” she gasped. She wasted no time after that, rushing past me and flicking her store sign to closed. <<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>I stood there, breathing heavily, still feeling the smoke from the alley coat my skin.
“Excuse me?” I called out to them.
Both pairs of eyes turned towards me. The woman, who I assumed was Hazel, hopped to her feet immediately upon seeing me, tucking her cards in her pockets. The sandy-haired man next to her seemed almost disappointed by it.
“Hello,” she said brightly. “How can I help you today?” She had a cherubic face with deep pouty lips. A smattering of freckles were dotted across her golden tan cheeks, the likes of which were plump tinged peach.
“Uh…” I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go about asking them for help. Did I just state that I had escaped from the bail block and ran blindly into a series of saloons and then the market itself? Did I ask for them to hide me?
“Did you need a tonic?” Hazel asked. She took a step forward, her hands clearly placed in front of her in a non-threatening manner. It was clear she thought I was hurt. And maybe I was. After my escape. After what I had just seen within the alley.
“No,” I explained. “I uh…” I swallowed, my head suddenly feeling muzzy with the day's events.
“Haze,” the man interrupted me. His voice was familiar. It was then I realized it was Milo. The one that had stood outside my cage. "This is the one."
Hazel frowned for a solid moment before seeming to get what the man behind her was on about. “Oh,” she gasped. She wasted no time after that, rushing past me and flicking her store sign to closed.
<</if>>
[[Slump in relief]]
[[Keep wary]]
The shop itself was dim, lit only by the roaring light of a hearth and a few candles scattered around the room. The sign had said open, but it looked like a far cry from a successful business. I should have greeted them. I should have cleared my throat or gained their attention in any other way than what burst from my lips next.
“What the fuck is wrong with that alley?” My voice bounced through the room with a shrill echo.
“It’s haunted.” The man didn’t look up from his game. Instead, he was examining his cards as if he heard something similar to this every day. The woman, however, the one I assumed was Hazel, hopped to her feet immediately. She tucked her cards in the pocket of her apron, much to the chagrin of the sandy-haired man across from her.
“Hello,” she said brightly. “How can I help you today?” She had a cherubic face with deep pouty lips. A smattering of freckles were dotted across her golden tan cheeks, the likes of which were plump tinged peach.
I stared at her, my eyes still wide, flickering between her and the man still seated at the table. “Haunted?” I croaked.
“Yup,” he said with a pop of his lips. “Has been for years. Beware the girl with the glowing eyes. She’s a nightmare. And I do mean that literally.”
Hazel looked over her shoulder, shooting the man a look I could not see. He took the hint, though, raising his hands in surrender and tossing his cards aside with a sigh. When she turned back towards me, she had nothing but a welcoming smile on her face.
“Is there something that I can help you with?” She clasped her hands before her, looking almost eager for the business.
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>“Gabriel Caine sent me.” Getting to the point felt like the right thing to do. I didn’t know how to delicately say that I had escaped from the prison only hours before.
Hazel looked a little confused as she mulled over my words, but over all, she didn’t seem particularly concerned. “Did he need someone else to pick up his tonic?”
I didn’t know what she was talking about or what tonic she was referring to. After that alley, I was starting to wonder if the Warden had sent me into a trap of some sorts. Though, the heart-shaped face and the unruly mop of hair that stared back at me didn’t feel all that threatening.
“No,” I explained. “I uh…” How did you explain that you were slated for the flesh pits only hours before and had run through the sandy beach that should have been your prison, with the very man that had processed you for arrest. “I uh…”
“Haze,” the man interrupted me. I could see the way he looked me over. I had nearly forgotten that I was covered in salt and sand. Grit, along with other questionable fluids I had picked up along the way, staining my clothes and skin.
Hazel frowned for a solid moment before seeming to get what the man behind her was on about. “Oh,” she gasped. She wasted no time after that, rushing past me and flicking her store sign to closed. <<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>I stood there, breathing heavily, still feeling the smoke from the alley coat my skin.
“Excuse me?” I called out to them.
Both pairs of eyes turned towards me. The woman, who I assumed was Hazel, hopped to her feet immediately upon seeing me, tucking her cards in her pockets. The sandy-haired man next to her seemed almost disappointed by it.
“Hello,” she said brightly. “How can I help you today?” She had a cherubic face with deep pouty lips. A smattering of freckles were dotted across her golden tan cheeks, the likes of which were plump tinged peach.
“Uh…” I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to go about asking them for help. Did I just state that I had escaped from the bail block and ran blindly into a series of saloons and then the market itself? Did I ask for them to hide me?
“Did you need a tonic?” Hazel asked. She took a step forward, her hands clearly placed in front of her in a non-threatening manner. It was clear she thought I was hurt. And maybe I was. After my escape. After what I had just seen within the alley.
“No,” I explained. “I uh…” I swallowed, my head suddenly feeling muzzy with the day's events.
“Haze,” the man interrupted me. His voice was familiar. It was then I realized it was Milo. The one that had stood outside my cage. "This is the one."
Hazel frowned for a solid moment before seeming to get what the man behind her was on about. “Oh,” she gasped. She wasted no time after that, rushing past me and flicking her store sign to closed.
<</if>>
[[Slump in relief]]
[[Keep wary]]
<<if $fleshpits == "true">>Across the room, the man continued to stare at me, rubbing the back of his neck, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. “Fuck,” he drawled. “Gabe publically on our side now?”
The look Hazel gave him clearly told him to stop talking. “Hush. Barrier isn’t up yet.”
<<elseif $cagemilo == "true">>"Well, you look a fucking wreck." Across the room, the man continued to stare at me, rubbing the back of his neck, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. "How did that runnin' do for you, sugar?"
The look Hazel gave him clearly told him to stop talking. “Hush. Barrier isn’t up yet.”
I was frozen though. The man. The man was the one I had locked in the cage. <<elseif $cagemilo == "false">>"Well, you look a fucking wreck." Across the room, the man continued to stare at me, rubbing the back of his neck, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. "How did that runnin' do for you, sugar? I lost you somewhere in all that."
The look Hazel gave him clearly told him to stop talking. “Hush. Barrier isn’t up yet.”
<</if>>
“No one is bugging your shop, Haze. They’re not dumb enough to.” Standing, the man set down his cards and walked further into the room. He stood at a little above average height for a man, wearing dark brown trousers with suspenders hanging loose at each hip. His cream shirt was unbuttoned to expose the pale expanse of his chest, the likes of which were ordained with gold chains. Near his hips, he had hooked a large key ring where several bits of metal clanked together, not all of which were keys. “You alright, darlin'?”
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>I blinked at the man. He had soft brown eyes, verging on warm amber, and ruddy cheeks that suggested he worked beneath the sun most days. There was a part of me that hoped that warm light touched at least a portion of this realm.<</if>>
[[I am far from alright after walking down that alley]]
[[It has been a hell of a night]]
[[I don’t really think I can be okay after today]]
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>Across the room, the man continued to stare at me, rubbing the back of his neck, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. “Fuck,” he drawled. “Gabe publically on our side now?”
The look Hazel gave him clearly told him to stop talking. “Hush. Barrier isn’t up yet.”
<<elseif $cagemilo == "true">>"Well, you look a fucking wreck." Across the room, the man continued to stare at me, rubbing the back of his neck, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. "How did that runnin' do for you, sugar?"
The look Hazel gave him clearly told him to stop talking. “Hush. Barrier isn’t up yet.”
I was frozen though. The man. The man was the one I had locked in the cage. <<elseif $cagemilo == "false">>"Well, you look a fucking wreck." Across the room, the man continued to stare at me, rubbing the back of his neck, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. "How did that runnin' do for you, sugar? I lost you somewhere in all that."
The look Hazel gave him clearly told him to stop talking. “Hush. Barrier isn’t up yet.”
<</if>>
“No one is bugging your shop, Haze. They’re not dumb enough to.” Standing, the man set down his cards and walked further into the room. He stood at a little above average height for a man, wearing dark brown trousers with suspenders hanging loose at each hip. His cream shirt was unbuttoned to expose the pale expanse of his chest, the likes of which were ordained with gold chains. Near his hips, he had hooked a large key ring where several bits of metal clanked together, not all of which were keys. “You alright, darlin'?”
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>I blinked at the man. He had soft brown eyes, verging on warm amber, and ruddy cheeks that suggested he worked beneath the sun most days. There was a part of me that hoped that warm light touched at least a portion of this realm.<</if>>
[[I am far from alright after walking down that alley]]
[[It has been a hell of a night]]
[[I don’t really think I can be okay after today]]
I shook my head, my hands still trembling. The alley was still fresh in my mind, overtaking everything that had happened to lead me to this place. I could still smell the smoke. Still see the swaying shadows. The voices. The…
“Hey.” A hand caught me by my elbow as my eyes snapped up towards the amber eyes of the man. I realized then I was swaying on my feet. “That alley did a number on you, then.”
I swallowed thickly, righting myself. He didn’t let go until he was sure I could stand. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I let out another shaky breath. “Are they really ghosts?”
He shrugged. “That’s what I call them,” he said. “Victims from a crime done long ago.”
I frowned at that. “The smoke smelled so recent.”
“Ah, that means they were active tonight.”
Behind me, Hazel tutted, drawing thick curtains and casting the shop in some heavy form of shadow. She stomped her feet twice, and small warm orbs of light shimmered into view up above, casting the room in a soft aura that I was almost positive could not be seen from the outside world.
“You poor thing,” she sighed. “Please. Sit. Tell us what happened. Are you alright? Wait. No. Milo already asked that, and of course you’re not alright. How could you be? <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>Is Gabriel alright? He’s not due for his grace yet–<</if>>"
“Hazel,” Milo’s voice cut her off, her mouth shutting with an audible snap. “Let’s let them breathe, yeah?”
She nodded her head. Curls fell from a large pouf that was tied back with a multicolored scarf. Her brown locks framed her face, showcasing kind eyes filled with outward concern. She wore a white puffy blouse with a brown apron dotted with marigolds. Her skirts were layered and thick, tattered at the edges and patched together with cotton scrapes from some other bit of fabric.
“Of course,” she said, shaking her own head. Hands on curvaceous hips, she breathed deeply. “I’ll put the kettle on.” Tossing a significant look to Milo, she went behind the large wrap around counter near the back, rummaging through the shelves.
“She makes a mean pot of tea,” Milo said. My attention was diverted back to him. He had his arms crossed and was leaning against one of the cedar support beams that were scattered around the shop. “You ready to sit down or are you going to be more comfortable near the door?”
[[More comfortable near the door]]
[[Are you two going to kill me]]
[[I can sit down]]I breathed. I didn’t know how I was managing to keep it together. Breathing, probably. The slow intake of breath before expelling it back out into the night air. Maybe I was simply in shock. I wondered if tomorrow would bring a shaking fear, or if there was some small part of me that had already accepted my fate. That this may be my life now.
“It has been a hell of a night,” I finally said.
The man before me grinned at that, nodding his head in understanding. “I bet.”
Behind me, Hazel tutted, drawing thick curtains and casting the shop in some heavy form of shadow. She stomped her feet twice, and small warm orbs of light shimmered into view up above, casting the room in a soft aura that I was almost positive could not be seen from the outside world.
“You poor thing,” she sighed. “Please. Sit. Tell us what happened. Are you alright? Wait. No. Milo already asked that, and of course you’re not alright. How could you be? <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>Is Gabriel alright? He’s not due for his grace yet–<</if>>"
“Hazel,” Milo’s voice cut her off, her mouth shutting with an audible snap. “Let’s let them breathe, yeah?”
She nodded her head. Curls fell from a large pouf that was tied back with a multicolored scarf. Her brown locks framed her face, showcasing kind eyes filled with outward concern. She wore a white puffy blouse with a brown apron dotted with marigolds. Her skirts were layered and thick, tattered at the edges and patched together with cotton scrapes from some other bit of fabric.
“Of course,” she said, shaking her own head. Hands on curvaceous hips, she breathed deeply. “I’ll put the kettle on.” Tossing a significant look to Milo, she went behind the large wrap around counter near the back, rummaging through the shelves.
“She makes a mean pot of tea,” Milo said. My attention was diverted back to him. He had his arms crossed and was leaning against one of the cedar support beams that were scattered around the shop. “You ready to sit down or are you going to be more comfortable near the door?”
[[More comfortable near the door]]
[[Are you two going to kill me]]
[[I can sit down]]“I don’t really know.” How could I be alright. After everything I had gone through. Losing my memory, being walked from the cells above a crowded beach, down past multiple rotting cells and towards a pit filled with writhing bodies all vying for freedom. Could anyone be okay after that?
Behind me, Hazel tutted, drawing thick curtains and casting the shop in some heavy form of shadow. She stomped her feet twice, and small warm orbs of light shimmered into view up above, casting the room in a soft aura that I was almost positive could not be seen from the outside world.
“You poor thing,” she sighed. “Please. Sit. Tell us what happened. Are you alright? Wait. No. Milo already asked that, and of course you’re not alright. How could you be? <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>Is Gabriel alright? He’s not due for his grace yet–<</if>>"
“Hazel,” Milo’s voice cut her off, her mouth shutting with an audible snap. “Let’s let them breathe, yeah?”
She nodded her head. Curls fell from a large pouf that was tied back with a multicolored scarf. Her brown locks framed her face, showcasing kind eyes filled with outward concern. She wore a white puffy blouse with a brown apron dotted with marigolds. Her skirts were layered and thick, tattered at the edges and patched together with cotton scrapes from some other bit of fabric.
“Of course,” she said, shaking her own head. Hands on curvaceous hips, she breathed deeply. “I’ll put the kettle on.” Tossing a significant look to Milo, she went behind the large wrap around counter near the back, rummaging through the shelves.
“She makes a mean pot of tea,” Milo said. My attention was diverted back to him. He had his arms crossed and was leaning against one of the cedar support beams that were scattered around the shop. “You ready to sit down or are you going to be more comfortable near the door?”
[[More comfortable near the door]]
[[Are you two going to kill me]]
[[I can sit down]]“I think I’ll stay by the door,” I said, not ready to let my guard down just yet. My throat hurt. I wasn’t sure if it was the ocean air or the panic that had threaded my lungs for most of the evening. My voice came out raspy, and from the way debris fell from me, I knew I was an absolute mess.
Milo didn’t press me to walk towards the table and sit. He only took a few steps back, leaning against one of the support beams in the shop. I could feel his eyes on me, observing me. He was probably trying to figure out just what lay beneath the layers of grime coating my skin and clothes.
“Are you hungry?” Hazel called. “I have a pot of stew on if you’re interested. Milo won’t eat it because it has corn. Do you like corn?”
[[No, I don't like corn]]
[[I guess I like corn]]“Are you two going to kill me?” My voice wavered. I didn’t know what I would do if the answer was yes. I was too tired to fight. Too tired to run any further. I had no options left in this bleak world, and it took everything in me not to sink to the floor and give up completely.
“Well that’s a telling question,” Milo said. “I don’t envy your night.”
The writhing bodies of the pit, the moans that echoed with the waves, they stuck to me. Keeping a hold of me long after I had run from the beach.
“Why don’t you sit,” Milo suggested. He made sure to back up against a large support beam, giving me ample room to walk towards the table in the back. When I sunk down on the cushions there, I didn’t know if I would be able to get back up.
“Are you hungry?” Hazel called. “I have a pot of stew on if you’re interested. Milo won’t eat it because it has corn. Do you like corn?”
[[No, I don't like corn]]
[[I guess I like corn]]“Sitting actually sounds nice,” I said. My throat hurt. I wasn’t sure if it was the ocean air or the panic that had threaded my lungs for most of the evening. My voice came out raspy, and from the way debris fell from me, I knew I was an absolute mess.
With a ring laden hand, Milo gestured for me to sit at the table they had recently vacated. I noticed how he didn’t move to sit with me yet. Making sure to keep his distance until it was clear that I wasn’t going to be spooked at the slightest movement.
“Are you hungry?” Hazel called. “I have a pot of stew on if you’re interested. Milo won’t eat it because it has corn. Do you like corn?”
[[No, I don't like corn]]
[[I guess I like corn]]“I'm not a huge fan of corn,” I said. Milo looked triumpahnt at my dislike.
"That's fine. I'll pick it out for you," Hazel called.
"What the... why won't you do that for me?"
Either Hazel didn't answer, or I didn't hear her. The vacant seats were starting to look more appealing
A gray cat jumped up nearby, and she turned towards it with a frantic whisper. When she was done, the cat jumped up towards an open window, something I didn’t think it could do with its girth, and exited the small shop.
The only sound within the room was the muffled bangs from Hazel and the popping of the hearth. The shop itself was cozy, made of dark mahogany, with dried herbs and flowers hanging from the rafters. Glass canisters of different mixtures adorned floor to ceiling shelves, some of which were only accessible by a sliding ladder. In the far corner was a spiral staircase, reaching up to what looked like a second story library, where comfortable chairs and pillows could be seen just beyond the banister. Near the front of the store, crates of over flowing vegetables sat, positioned pleasantly to showcase the bountiful harvest. Grain sacks were stacked throughout at random, while small tables filled with a varying array of crystals could be seen tucked here and there.
It was quite the difference from where I had just been. The cold sea wind did not bite at my skin and despite the relative silence of the store itself, I no longer felt danger looming eminently at my back.
“Here we are.” Hazel set a large bowl of stew on the table along with a wood board of dark crusty bread. My stomach rumbled at the enticing smell, large chunks of succulent meat and rough cut vegetables were piled high within a bowl of dark brown broth. “Eat as much as you’d like,” Hazel said with a smile.
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel 4]]<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>[[Next|Chapter Two Solo Route]]<</if>>“Corn's fine,” I said. Hazel hummed in happy response.
A gray cat jumped up nearby, and she turned towards it with a frantic whisper. When she was done, the cat jumped up towards an open window, something I didn’t think it could do with its girth, and exited the small shop.
The only sound within the room was the muffled bangs from Hazel and the popping of the hearth. The shop itself was cozy, made of dark mahogany, with dried herbs and flowers hanging from the rafters. Glass canisters of different mixtures adorned floor to ceiling shelves, some of which were only accessible by a sliding ladder. In the far corner was a spiral staircase, reaching up to what looked like a second story library, where comfortable chairs and pillows could be seen just beyond the banister. Near the front of the store, crates of over flowing vegetables sat, positioned pleasantly to showcase the bountiful harvest. Grain sacks were stacked throughout at random, while small tables filled with a varying array of crystals could be seen tucked here and there.
It was quite the difference from where I had just been. The cold sea wind did not bite at my skin and despite the relative silence of the store itself, I no longer felt danger looming eminently at my back.
“Here we are.” Hazel set a large bowl of stew on the table along with a wood board of dark crusty bread. My stomach rumbled at the enticing smell, large chunks of succulent meat and rough cut vegetables were piled high within a bowl of dark brown broth. “Eat as much as you’d like,” Hazel said with a smile. At the sight of food, my stomach growled loudly, nearly pushing me towards the table and the bowl.
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel 4]]<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>[[Next|Chapter Two Solo Route]]<</if>>Taking my first bite I struggled not to moan. The stew was thick and warming and did wonders to try and chase away the horrors of the beach. It didn’t help that I was nearly, not knowing when the last time I ate even was.
“Take it slow,” Hazel said soothingly. “You don’t want to make yourself sick.”
I tried to slow down, but knew I was doing a poor job of it. The look I must have presented was slightly embarrassing.
“So you want to explain why Gabe broke you out?” Milo kicked his booted feet up onto the table, lacing his fingers behind his head.
“Milo,” Hazel admonished. “Let ?them eat. It’s probably been a long day.”
“I just want to know if the Velvet Guard is about to crash through that door.”
Both Hazel’s eyes, and my own, ticked towards the heavy wood door with the cast iron handle. The sound of booted feet never came, though. Not that I blamed anyone for not venturing down that alley.
“His men didn’t seem to care that he was escorting me from the bail block,” I said after a pause. “Do you think they’ll chase me?”
“Depends,” Milo shrugged. “Did you make a scene?"
<<if $fleshpits == "true">>I thought back to the flesh pit and the writhing bodies. The way they were pressed against the wall as a silver light emitted from Gabriel. The guards above scrambling to save their boss and most likely condemned the person who had put him in danger.<</if>>
“Possibly,” I said.
“Milo, I doubt Gabriel would send ?them here just to have the Velvet Guard follow,” Hazel reasoned.
“Gabriel is losing ground within the Guard. You know it and I know it. He may not have a choice here.” Turning back to me, he looked at me sympathetically. “None of us condone what the hell is happening down there on that beach, but I’m also not about to risk our cover.”
[[I’m sorry. He told me to come here while I worked off my bail]]
[[I don’t really understand what is going on]]
[[Please don’t kick me out. I have nowhere else to go]]“I don’t really know what kind of cover you are talking about, but the Warden personally escorted me from the flesh pits tonight. I’m assuming that’s significant. <<if $workforgabriel == "true">>He bought out my bail but said that I could stay here?”<<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>He told me that I could come work for you to pay off my bail but he would be coming by to check up on me.”<</if>>
Both Hazel and Milo went paralyzingly silent. Neither looked at each other as they tried to keep their faces steady masks of calm, but I could tell my words were important.
“Listen,” she said softly, “I know talking about tonight is the last thing you want to do, but we need some information if we are going to help you. And I have a suspicion, you have plenty of questions of your own.”
She wasn’t wrong. While earlier I felt as if I could barely speak past the emotions clogging my throat, as the food settled in my belly, I was beginning to feel a bit more clear-headed than I had before.
“I don’t mind talking,” I said. “I don’t really know how much information I can give you, though.”
Hazel’s tanned hand fell across mine, her fingers warm as they squeezed me encouragingly. “Just tell us what happened. How did you get here?”
<<if $fleshpits == "true">>\A flash of reaching hands danced before my eyes. They curled their fingers out of the depths of writhing bodies, searching for a way out. Bodies I had subsequently thrown myself towards in a desperate effort to escape. Then, a flash of silver eyes and absolute confusion followed until my head felt thick and full from the moans of the pit itself, despite being far away from it all.
I hadn’t even realized the words were spilling from my mouth. Not until I looked up again and found both Hazel and Milo looked at me with a mix of emotions. Hazel was pouring me tea soon after, adding a large dollop of honey in an effort to soothe.
When I finished, I stared at the two of them hesitantly. I wasn’t sure what I expected. Horror, predominantly. A confirmation that what I had seen and experienced was, in fact, terrible. I felt dirty and covered in a thick film of the day's events, and it made my skin itch almost unbearably.
Laughter burst from Milo’s throat. It was so unexpected that both Hazel and I stared at him with wide and shocked eyes. Tears dripped down his cheeks though, his boots falling from the table with a loud bang as he nearly doubled over.
“Did I miss something?” I asked.
“No. No sorry.” He wiped at his eyes. “I just keep replaying the image of you yanking Caine into the flesh pits. It’s beautiful.”
Hazel shook her head. “Milo, that’s not funny.”
“It’s really funny,” he snickered. “Tell me, did his hair get messed up? Did his perfectly pressed uniform get a tear?”
“Ignore him,” Hazel said. “He’s not all together right in the head.” Scooting her chair closer to me, she turned her body to fully face my own. “I’m glad he got you out. It isn’t often that Gabriel goes out of his way like that. He keeps the position he does within the Velvet Guard to give us tips. A way for him to help us from the inside. For him to risk his cover, you must have made quite the impression on him.”
I didn’t know if that was true. He had looked at me a few times as if he were looking right through me. Seeing a past that was dancing just beyond my scope.
“Do you have any questions? I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.” <<elseif $fleshpits == "false">>
The wind from the beach still scorched my cheeks, biting against me in a reminder of where I had stood, relying on a man who had entered into my cell with the intent to throw me upon the mercy of his world. Somehow, however, the night had ended differently. It had not ended with the writhing pit that I had stood only yards from. Instead, it had ended with me walking right past the velvet clad guards, escorted by the warden.
When I told them this, I wasn’t met with questions or even accusations. Milo looked vaguely bored, and Hazel was pouring me tea. I supposed living it and hearing about it were two very different events. And they looked to be the kind of people that had heard a similar story before.
Scooting her chair closer to me, Hazel turned her body to fully face my own. “I’m glad he got you out. It isn’t often that Gabriel goes out of his way like that. He keeps the position he does within the Velvet Guard to give us tips. A way for him to help us from the inside. For him to risk his cover, you must have made quite the impression on him.”
I didn’t know if that was true. He had looked at me a few times as if he were looking right through me. Seeing a past that was dancing just beyond my scope.
“Do you have any questions? I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.”
<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>
The wind from the beach still scorched my cheeks, biting against me in a reminder of where I had stood. I could still see the way Milo’s fingers curled against the bars of the cage as he slammed his body against it, and feel the way my heart hammered against my lungs as I ran from him. Weaving within those loud, sweat soaked saloons. Slipping out the back door, and forcing several lies past clenched teeth until I somehow managed to make it free. I had walked right out of my prison with my head held high, yet I still felt as if those guards were quick on my tail.
My story was not met with an accusation. Milo looked vaguely impressed while Hazel took it all in without comment, pouring me a cup of tea.
“Well, those men will be fired if the truth ever comes out.” I couldn’t quite tell, but Milo looked almost pleased with the idea.
Scooting her chair closer to me, Hazel turned her body to fully face my own. “Thank the Knowing you were able to catch them off duty. Normally they are much more relentless. Or at least the younger ones are.”
I frowned. “Why the younger ones?”
“More to prove,” Milo answered.
“Do you have any questions?” Hazel asked, pushing a steaming mug of tea before me. “I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.”
<</if>>\
[[I’m not sure if I’ll retain any of what you say but I do have some questions]]
[[I’m exhausted but my brain is still scrambling to understand just what happened to me]]
[[I’m pretty much ready to wash my hands of this place]]
I shook my head. “I’m afraid I don’t really understand what’s going on.”
The look Hazel gave Milo was not an understanding one. The man looked unfazed, but did keep quiet for a moment, allowing Hazel to take the lead in the conversation.
“Listen,” she said softly, “I know talking about tonight is the last thing you want to do, but we need some information if we are going to help you. And I have a suspicion, you have plenty of questions of your own.”
She wasn’t wrong. While earlier I felt as if I could barely speak past the emotions clogging my throat, as the food settled in my belly, I was beginning to feel a bit more clear-headed than I had before.
“I don’t mind talking,” I said. “I don’t really know how much information I can give you, though.”
Hazel’s tanned hand fell across mine, her fingers warm as they squeezed me encouragingly. “Just tell us what happened. How did you get here?”
<<if $fleshpits == "true">>\A flash of reaching hands danced before my eyes. They curled their fingers out of the depths of writhing bodies, searching for a way out. Bodies I had subsequently thrown myself towards in a desperate effort to escape. Then, a flash of silver eyes and absolute confusion followed until my head felt thick and full from the moans of the pit itself, despite being far away from it all.
I hadn’t even realized the words were spilling from my mouth. Not until I looked up again and found both Hazel and Milo looked at me with a mix of emotions. Hazel was pouring me tea soon after, adding a large dollop of honey in an effort to soothe.
When I finished, I stared at the two of them hesitantly. I wasn’t sure what I expected. Horror, predominantly. A confirmation that what I had seen and experienced was, in fact, terrible. I felt dirty and covered in a thick film of the day's events, and it made my skin itch almost unbearably.
Laughter burst from Milo’s throat. It was so unexpected that both Hazel and I stared at him with wide and shocked eyes. Tears dripped down his cheeks though, his boots falling from the table with a loud bang as he nearly doubled over.
“Did I miss something?” I asked.
“No. No sorry.” He wiped at his eyes. “I just keep replaying the image of you yanking Caine into the flesh pits. It’s beautiful.”
Hazel shook her head. “Milo, that’s not funny.”
“It’s really funny,” he snickered. “Tell me, did his hair get messed up? Did his perfectly pressed uniform get a tear?”
“Ignore him,” Hazel said. “He’s not all together right in the head.” Scooting her chair closer to me, she turned her body to fully face my own. “I’m glad he got you out. It isn’t often that Gabriel goes out of his way like that. He keeps the position he does within the Velvet Guard to give us tips. A way for him to help us from the inside. For him to risk his cover, you must have made quite the impression on him.”
I didn’t know if that was true. He had looked at me a few times as if he were looking right through me. Seeing a past that was dancing just beyond my scope.
“Do you have any questions? I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.” <<elseif $fleshpits == "false">>
The wind from the beach still scorched my cheeks, biting against me in a reminder of where I had stood, relying on a man who had entered into my cell with the intent to throw me upon the mercy of his world. Somehow, however, the night had ended differently. It had not ended with the writhing pit that I had stood only yards from. Instead, it had ended with me walking right past the velvet clad guards, escorted by the warden.
When I told them this, I wasn’t met with questions or even accusations. Milo looked vaguely bored, and Hazel was pouring me tea. I supposed living it and hearing about it were two very different events. And they looked to be the kind of people that had heard a similar story before.
Scooting her chair closer to me, Hazel turned her body to fully face my own. “I’m glad he got you out. It isn’t often that Gabriel goes out of his way like that. He keeps the position he does within the Velvet Guard to give us tips. A way for him to help us from the inside. For him to risk his cover, you must have made quite the impression on him.”
I didn’t know if that was true. He had looked at me a few times as if he were looking right through me. Seeing a past that was dancing just beyond my scope.
“Do you have any questions? I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.”
<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>
The wind from the beach still scorched my cheeks, biting against me in a reminder of where I had stood. I could still see the way Milo’s fingers curled against the bars of the cage as he slammed his body against it, and feel the way my heart hammered against my lungs as I ran from him. Weaving within those loud, sweat soaked saloons. Slipping out the back door, and forcing several lies past clenched teeth until I somehow managed to make it free. I had walked right out of my prison with my head held high, yet I still felt as if those guards were quick on my tail.
My story was not met with an accusation. Milo looked vaguely impressed while Hazel took it all in without comment, pouring me a cup of tea.
“Well, those men will be fired if the truth ever comes out.” I couldn’t quite tell, but Milo looked almost pleased with the idea.
Scooting her chair closer to me, Hazel turned her body to fully face my own. “Thank the Knowing you were able to catch them off duty. Normally they are much more relentless. Or at least the younger ones are.”
I frowned. “Why the younger ones?”
“More to prove,” Milo answered.
“Do you have any questions?” Hazel asked, pushing a steaming mug of tea before me. “I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.”
<</if>>\
[[I’m not sure if I’ll retain any of what you say but I do have some questions]]
[[I’m exhausted but my brain is still scrambling to understand just what happened to me]]
[[I’m pretty much ready to wash my hands of this place]]
“Please,” I looked at them with terrified eyes. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
The look Hazel gave Milo was not an understanding one. The man looked unfazed, however, but did keep quiet for a moment, allowing Hazel to take the lead in the conversation.
“No one is telling you to leave,” she said softly. “We are just concerned. Your arrival is unprecedented. Though, not unheard of.”
I swallowed, trying to believe her. I wanted to believe her. She looked kind and was offering me the only understanding since the blue-eyed man.
“Listen,” she said softly, “I know talking about tonight is the last thing you want to do, but we need some information if we are going to help you. And I have a suspicion, you have plenty of questions of your own.”
She wasn’t wrong. While earlier I felt as if I could barely speak past the emotions clogging my throat, as the food settled in my belly, I was beginning to feel a bit more clear-headed than I had before.
“I can try to talk,” I said. “I don’t really know how much information I can give you, though.”
Hazel’s tanned hand fell across mine, her fingers warm as they squeezed me encouragingly. “Just tell us what happened. How did you get here?”
“Please,” I looked at them with terrified eyes. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
The look Hazel gave Milo was not an understanding one. The man looked unfazed, however, but did keep quiet for a moment, allowing Hazel to take the lead in the conversation.
“No one is telling you to leave,” she said softly. “We are just concerned. Your arrival is unprecedented. Though, not unheard of.”
I swallowed, trying to believe her. I wanted to believe her. She looked kind and was offering me the only understanding since the blue-eyed man.
“Listen,” she said softly, “I know talking about tonight is the last thing you want to do, but we need some information if we are going to help you. And I have a suspicion, you have plenty of questions of your own.”
She wasn’t wrong. While earlier I felt as if I could barely speak past the emotions clogging my throat, as the food settled in my belly, I was beginning to feel a bit more clear-headed than I had before.
“I can try to talk,” I said. “I don’t really know how much information I can give you, though.”
Hazel’s tanned hand fell across mine, her fingers warm as they squeezed me encouragingly. “Just tell us what happened. How did you get here?”
<<if $fleshpits == "true">>A flash of reaching hands danced before my eyes. They curled their fingers out of the depths of writhing bodies, searching for a way out. Bodies I had subsequently thrown myself towards in a desperate effort to escape. Then, a flash of silver eyes and absolute confusion followed until my head felt thick and full from the moans of the pit itself, despite being far away from it all.
I hadn’t even realized the words were spilling from my mouth. Not until I looked up again and found both Hazel and Milo looked at me with a mix of emotions. Hazel was pouring me tea soon after, adding a large dollop of honey in an effort to soothe.
When I finished, I stared at the two of them hesitantly. I wasn’t sure what I expected. Horror, predominantly. A confirmation that what I had seen and experienced was, in fact, terrible. I felt dirty and covered in a thick film of the day's events, and it made my skin itch almost unbearably.
Laughter burst from Milo’s throat. It was so unexpected that both Hazel and I stared at him with wide and shocked eyes. Tears dripped down his cheeks though, his boots falling from the table with a loud bang as he nearly doubled over.
“Did I miss something?” I asked.
“No. No sorry.” He wiped at his eyes. “I just keep replaying the image of you yanking Caine into the flesh pits. It’s beautiful.”
Hazel shook her head. “Milo, that’s not funny.”
“It’s really funny,” he snickered. “Tell me, did his hair get messed up? Did his perfectly pressed uniform get a tear?”
“Ignore him,” Hazel said. “He’s not all together right in the head.” Scooting her chair closer to me, she turned her body to fully face my own. “I’m glad he got you out. It isn’t often that Gabriel goes out of his way like that. He keeps the position he does within the Velvet Guard to give us tips. A way for him to help us from the inside. For him to risk his cover, you must have made quite the impression on him.”
I didn’t know if that was true. He had looked at me a few times as if he were looking right through me. Seeing a past that was dancing just beyond my scope.
“Do you have any questions? I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.” <<elseif $fleshpits == "false">>
The wind from the beach still scorched my cheeks, biting against me in a reminder of where I had stood, relying on a man who had entered into my cell with the intent to throw me upon the mercy of his world. Somehow, however, the night had ended differently. It had not ended with the writhing pit that I had stood only yards from. Instead, it had ended with me walking right past the velvet clad guards, escorted by the warden.
When I told them this, I wasn’t met with questions or even accusations. Milo looked vaguely bored, and Hazel was pouring me tea. I supposed living it and hearing about it were two very different events. And they looked to be the kind of people that had heard a similar story before.
Scooting her chair closer to me, Hazel turned her body to fully face my own. “I’m glad he got you out. It isn’t often that Gabriel goes out of his way like that. He keeps the position he does within the Velvet Guard to give us tips. A way for him to help us from the inside. For him to risk his cover, you must have made quite the impression on him.”
I didn’t know if that was true. He had looked at me a few times as if he were looking right through me. Seeing a past that was dancing just beyond my scope.
“Do you have any questions? I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.”
<<elseif $beginningroute == "solo">>
The wind from the beach still scorched my cheeks, biting against me in a reminder of where I had stood. I could still see the way Milo’s fingers curled against the bars of the cage as he slammed his body against it, and feel the way my heart hammered against my lungs as I ran from him. Weaving within those loud, sweat soaked saloons. Slipping out the back door, and forcing several lies past clenched teeth until I somehow managed to make it free. I had walked right out of my prison with my head held high, yet I still felt as if those guards were quick on my tail.
My story was not met with an accusation. Milo looked vaguely impressed while Hazel took it all in without comment, pouring me a cup of tea.
“Well, those men will be fired if the truth ever comes out.” I couldn’t quite tell, but Milo looked almost pleased with the idea.
Scooting her chair closer to me, Hazel turned her body to fully face my own. “Thank the Knowing you were able to catch them off duty. Normally they are much more relentless. Or at least the younger ones are.”
I frowned. “Why the younger ones?”
“More to prove,” Milo answered.
“Do you have any questions?” Hazel asked, pushing a steaming mug of tea before me. “I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.”
<</if>>\
[[I’m not sure if I’ll retain any of what you say but I do have some questions]]
[[I’m exhausted but my brain is still scrambling to understand just what happened to me]]
[[I’m pretty much ready to wash my hands of this place]]
Pushing my food away, I rubbed at my eyes, trying to keep myself focused. “I’m not sure if I’ll necessarily retain everything you have to say, but I do have some questions. They might help untangle my thoughts a bit. The first one being, where exactly am I?”
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>Milo groaned. “Did he not even bother to explain that to you?”
He might have. But the entirety of my morning felt like a rush of adrenaline, fear and survival. Having a moment to sit down and process it all felt more beneficial than piecing together things I had been told while being escorted to a writhing pit of bodies.<</if>>
“The Night Market is as it sounds,” Milo started. He stood from the table, pacing a short path back and forth between support beams. I got the distinct impression he was not a man that stayed still for long. “A market cast forever in a sleepless night. Providing the goods and wares of only your wildest dreams.”
I blinked at him, feeling my head swim a bit at the explanation.
“It is a city at the center of each reality out there,” Hazel said softly, trying to explain things a bit better. “Think of the Night Market as a nexus point within every reality and world. Everything is connected, and the Night Market just so happens to be that point of connection.”
If I had my memories, I was almost certain it would sound crazy. It had to. But instead, it sunk into my empty thoughts, as if my mind was desperate to fill itself with absolutely anything.
“Oh, hey, you’re not running in fear yet. That’s a good sign.” Milo grinned, his cheeks creasing with laugh lines.
“Now, while I don’t know the specifics of your arrival here,” Hazel said. “I suspect you came through a gate. Each world or reality has a gate assigned to it. Though, it is not one that is visible to most, and you do have to be invited to come here.”
“So I was invited?” I asked.
Milo crossed his arms in front of him, tilting his head to the side. “That’s the thing. If you were invited, you’d have papers. Since you were arrested without them, I’m going to say you probably weren’t invited in a conventional sense. Which means, you managed to wander through a gate that you shouldn’t have even been able to see. Bit curious, really.”
[[So I just need to find my gate then?]]
[[Why would someone invite me and then erase my memory?]]
[[There must have been a mistake]]I wondered how long it would take before hallucinations began to set in due to utter exhaustion. Maybe that’s why the alley had seemed so terrifying. Or maybe, none of this was real to begin with. With my fingers pressed to my eyes, I took a deep and steadying breath. “I’m afraid I don’t really understand anything that is happening to me,” I admitted.
“Well, we’re about to complicate that a whole lot further.” Lacing his fingers together, Milo cracked his knuckles, giving me what could only be described as a sardonic look. I couldn’t tell if he was enjoying this or not.
“The Night Market is as it sounds,” Milo started. He stood from the table, pacing a short path back and forth between support beams. I got the distinct impression he was not a man that stayed still for long. “A market cast forever in a sleepless night. Providing the goods and wares of only your wildest dreams.”
I blinked at him, feeling my head swim a bit at the explanation.
“It is a city at the center of each reality out there,” Hazel said softly, trying to explain things a bit better. “Think of the Night Market as a nexus point within every reality and world. Everything is connected, and the Night Market just so happens to be that point of connection.”
If I had my memories, I was almost certain it would sound crazy. It had to. But instead, it sunk into my empty thoughts, as if my mind was desperate to fill itself with absolutely anything.
“Oh, hey, you’re not running in fear yet. That’s a good sign.” Milo grinned, his cheeks creasing with laugh lines.
“Now, while I don’t know the specifics of your arrival here,” Hazel said. “I suspect you came through a gate. Each world or reality has a gate assigned to it. Though, it is not one that is visible to most, and you do have to be invited to come here.”
“So I was invited?” I asked.
Milo crossed his arms in front of him, tilting his head to the side. “That’s the thing. If you were invited, you’d have papers. Since you were arrested without them, I’m going to say you probably weren’t invited in a conventional sense. Which means, you managed to wander through a gate that you shouldn’t have even been able to see. Bit curious, really.”
[[So I just need to find my gate then?]]
[[Why would someone invite me and then erase my memory?]]
[[There must have been a mistake]]Rubbing a hand across my face, I felt my fingers come away gritty with sand. “At this point, I just want to wash my hands of this place entirely,” I said. Whatever redeeming qualities the Night Market may have, I was not seeing it.
“Well, then let’s figure out how to do that,” Hazel said cheerfully. It surprised me, really. She didn’t look offended over my statement, just eager to help.
“The Night Market is as it sounds,” Milo started. He stood from the table, pacing a short path back and forth between support beams. I got the distinct impression he was not a man that stayed still for long. “A market cast forever in a sleepless night. Providing the goods and wares of only your wildest dreams.”
I blinked at him, feeling my head swim a bit at the explanation.
“It is a city at the center of each reality out there,” Hazel said softly, trying to explain things a bit better. “Think of the Night Market as a nexus point within every reality and world. Everything is connected, and the Night Market just so happens to be that point of connection.”
If I had my memories, I was almost certain it would sound crazy. It had to. But instead, it sunk into my empty thoughts, as if my mind was desperate to fill itself with absolutely anything.
“Oh, hey, you’re not running in fear yet. That’s a good sign.” Milo grinned, his cheeks creasing with laugh lines.
“Now, while I don’t know the specifics of your arrival here,” Hazel said. “I suspect you came through a gate. Each world or reality has a gate assigned to it. Though, it is not one that is visible to most, and you do have to be invited to come here.”
“So I was invited?” I asked.
Milo crossed his arms in front of him, tilting his head to the side. “That’s the thing. If you were invited, you’d have papers. Since you were arrested without them, I’m going to say you probably weren’t invited in a conventional sense. Which means, you managed to wander through a gate that you shouldn’t have even been able to see. Bit curious, really.”
[[So I just need to find my gate then?]]
[[Why would someone invite me and then erase my memory?]]
[[There must have been a mistake]]I could feel my head beginning to swim again. Reminiscent of the first confusing hours I had spent within the cells. “Then I just need to find my gate and step back through,” I said slowly, as if the longer I drew out my words, the more they would be able to make sense to me.
Both Hazel and Milo exchanged a long look.
“Not exactly,” Milo said. Apparently, he would be the bearer of bad news. “You see, gates are a bit finicky. While we describe them as gates, they can be just about anything. A pebble in a river, a leaf on a tree. The wandering man deep within a creepy alley. There’s no real telling unless you know what you’re looking for.”
I blinked at him, my mind slow to catch up. The words did not seem to make any sense no matter how I strung them together in my head.
Leaning forward, he looked at me from beneath his lashes, studying my face. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”
“No.”
“Then there’s the problem.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Hazel assured. “Not a lot of people know what they’re looking for. The secrecy was designed within these gates for a reason. With the Night Market being connected to all living worlds, there cannot be a constant flow of traffic here and there. There had to be some order to it all.”
“And that order came in the form of hiding the gates?” I asked.
“Well… no,” she said.
Milo sighed. “Alright, let me give you the spiel. There is a gate per every reality. Which, if you think about it, means there are infinite gates. Now, if you were invited into the Night Market, of course you’d know what your home world gate is. I’d even argue, if you managed to sneak in, you could look back and have a pretty good idea of which gate you went through. But for reasons unknown, a lot of you gate skippers, have had their memories wiped. So, without the memories, no knowledge of your gate. Without the knowledge of your gate, no way home.”
[[I felt my heart drop, tears pricking my eyes]]
[[I felt a wild sense of determination come over me. I would not let the Night Market win]]
[[All I felt over this revelation was utter exhaustion]]Slowly, I shook my head. Something was not adding up, specifically when it had to do with me and my arrival here within the Night Market. “Why would someone allegedly invite me here, only to erase my memory?”
“Why indeed?” Milo considered me carefully, as if searching for that exact same answer. “You see, gates are a bit finicky. While we describe them as gates, they can be just about anything. A pebble in a river, a leaf on a tree. The wandering man deep within a creepy alley. There’s no real telling unless you know what you’re looking for.”
“But with my memory wiped…” I trailed off. “So someone doesn’t want me getting home.”
“Most likely,” he said.
“Don’t feel bad,” Hazel assured. “Not a lot of people know what they’re looking for. The secrecy was designed within these gates for a reason. With the Night Market being connected to all living worlds, there cannot be a constant flow of traffic here and there. There had to be some order to it all.”
“And that order came in the form of hiding the gates?” I asked.
“Well… no,” she said.
Milo sighed. “Alright, let me give you the spiel. There is a gate per every reality. Which, if you think about it, means there are infinite gates. Now, if you were invited into the Night Market, of course you’d know what your home world gate is. I’d even argue, if you managed to sneak in, you could look back and have a pretty good idea of which gate you went through. But for reasons unknown, a lot of you gate skippers, have had their memories wiped. So, without the memories, no knowledge of your gate. Without the knowledge of your gate, no way home.”
[[I felt my heart drop, tears pricking my eyes]]
[[I felt a wild sense of determination come over me. I would not let the Night Market win]]
[[All I felt over this revelation was utter exhaustion]]Slowly, I shook my head. Something was not adding up, specifically when it had to do with me and my arrival here within the Night Market. “There must have been a mistake,” I said. “There’s nothing special about me. I wouldn’t have been invited to a place like this, and I certainly don’t have anything worth erasing my memories over.”
“How would you know?” Milo asked. I fell short. It was a fair question. It was just something I couldn’t bring myself to believe. How was I supposed to trust though that something further was not going on with me. The only memory I did seem to have was of an old blanket.
“Look, of course there could be a possibility that you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But operating under that assumption also gets us nowhere.”
He was right. I knew he was right. Lifting my gaze, I took a deep breath. “So what do we do?”
“Gates are a bit finicky,” he explained. “While we describe them as gates, they can be just about anything. A pebble in a river, a leaf on a tree. The wandering man deep within a creepy alley. There’s no real telling unless you know what you’re looking for.”
“But with my memory wiped…” I trailed off. “So someone doesn’t want me getting home.”
“Most likely,” he said.
“Don’t feel bad,” Hazel assured. “Not a lot of people know what they’re looking for. The secrecy was designed within these gates for a reason. With the Night Market being connected to all living worlds, there cannot be a constant flow of traffic here and there. There had to be some order to it all.”
“And that order came in the form of hiding the gates?” I asked.
“Well… no,” she said.
Milo sighed. “Alright, let me give you the spiel. There is a gate per every reality. Which, if you think about it, means there are infinite gates. Now, if you were invited into the Night Market, of course you’d know what your home world gate is. I’d even argue, if you managed to sneak in, you could look back and have a pretty good idea of which gate you went through. But for reasons unknown, a lot of you gate skippers, have had their memories wiped. So, without the memories, no knowledge of your gate. Without the knowledge of your gate, no way home.”
[[I felt my heart drop, tears pricking my eyes]]
[[I felt a wild sense of determination come over me. I would not let the Night Market win]]
[[All I felt over this revelation was utter exhaustion]]I shook my head, refusing to believe that. “No. I… there has to be a way.”
“There’s not,” Milo said. “I’m afraid you are kind of shit out of luck, sugar. Gates are the bane of this world's existence, and if you don’t have knowledge of yours, the likelihood of you finding it again is less than zero.”
I could feel myself panicking. So, this man was telling me, there was no hope. No way home. Never again would I lay beneath my grandmothers quilt. I wouldn’t see the home that I knew was mine, that lingered just on the outside of my thoughts. The very idea had my arms wrapped around my middle as I struggled not to bend in two.
“That’s not entirely true,” Hazel whispered. She was looking at Milo with a hesitancy that clearly could be felt within the room. I latched onto it.
“Please. If you know anything I…”
“It’s a dead end,” Milo interrupted.
“We don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
Ignoring him, she turned towards me. “The Gatekeeper. They are said to be one of the nine Barons that controls all the gates here within the Night Market. They can see each one and can match you to the one you belong to.”
“Then let me talk to them,” I said desperately.
Hazel’s face fell at that. “That’s the problem. No one has seen them in about ten years.”
“Hence,” Milo said, “why it is a dead end.”
I felt myself deflate. It felt hopeless. I had escaped from the flesh pits just to run here to be told that nothing I was about to do mattered. This was supposed to be my life now. Swallowing, I looked around the shop, feeling utterly lost.
“Hey, oh, no. Don’t cry.” I felt warm arms wrap around me as Hazel moved to my side and held me close. “Don’t you dare give up hope, okay? I’m not in the business of losing hope.”
“She’s in the business of herbs,” Milo quipped.
“Listen, if there is a way to find your gate, I will absolutely help you. Please. You have to understand. This is what we do, after all.”
I looked up. “You get people back through their gates?”
“We try.”
“How many have you successfully gotten home?” When Hazel didn’t answer, I felt my heart plummet.
“So what now?” I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice.
“You rest,” Hazel said quietly. “You rest and recover.”
I could hear Milo shuffling about, gathering a few things while the jangling of his keys echoed around the room. <<if $workforgabriel == "false">>“Well, Hazel, it looks as if you got yourself a new shopkeep at least.”
“Shopkeep?” I asked.
Hazel shook her head. “You absolutely do not need to work for me. Don’t listen to whatever it is he just said. I’m going to give you a roof over your head and some food until you can get on your feet.”
“You need help,” Milo’s voice came in from inside. “Orders are piling up.” <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> “Well, glad that Gabe decided you should house his new employee. That’s fun."<</if>>
Hazel sighed, but didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she painted on a smile directing her concern towards me, trying her hardest to ignore him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s have you get some sleep."
[[Sleep sounds nice]]
[[I don't know if I can sleep after all this]]
[[Are you sure it's alright that I stay here?]]
I shook my head, refusing to believe that. I was not going to let this place take me without a fight. It had already done so much to me, and I wasn’t going to just sit back and let it win. “No. There’s a way to get out of here,” I said. “There has to be.”
“Gates are the bane of this world's existence,” Milo countered. “If you don’t have knowledge of yours, the likelihood of you finding it again is less than zero.”
From by my side, Hazel stiffened. “That’s not entirely true.” She was looking at Milo with a hesitancy that clearly could be felt within the room. I latched onto it.
“What is it?” I knew my voice was bordering on desperation, but I need something to go off of if I was going to find a way out of here.
“It’s a dead end,” Milo interrupted.
“We don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
Ignoring him, she turned towards me. “The Gatekeeper. They are said to be one of the nine barons that controls all the gates here within the Night Market. They can see each one and can match you to the one you belong to.”
“Then let me talk to them,” I said.
Hazel’s face fell at that. “That’s the problem. No one has seen them in about ten years.”
“Hence,” Milo said, “why it is a dead end.”
I slumped back in my seat, trying to puzzle out what to do next. There had to be something we were missing. A key bit of information that would at the very least give me a direction to begin searching in. But the more I thought about what they were saying, the more the words rattled in my head.
“So what now?” I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice.
“You rest,” Hazel said quietly. “You rest and recover.”
I could hear Milo shuffling about, gathering a few things while the jangling of his keys echoed around the room. <<if $workforgabriel == "false">>“Well, Hazel, it looks as if you got yourself a new shopkeep at least.”
“Shopkeep?” I asked.
Hazel shook her head. “You absolutely do not need to work for me. Don’t listen to whatever it is he just said. I’m going to give you a roof over your head and some food until you can get on your feet.”
“You need help,” Milo’s voice came in from inside. “Orders are piling up.” <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> “Well, glad that Gabe decided you should house his new employee. That’s fun."<</if>>
Hazel sighed, but didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she painted on a smile directing her concern towards me, trying her hardest to ignore him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s have you get some sleep."
[[Sleep sounds nice]]
[[I don't know if I can sleep after all this]]
[[Are you sure it's alright that I stay here?]]Bone numbing exhaustion hit me as I slumped back in my chair, suddenly at a loss for what to say or even do.
“Sorry, sugar,” Milo said. “Gates are the bane of this world's existence. If you don’t have knowledge of yours, the likelihood of you finding it again is less than zero.” He did genuinely sound sorry, though I doubted after tonight he would give me a second thought. For all I knew, I was just another lost soul in a long line of memory wiped gate crashers.
From by my side, Hazel stiffened. “That’s not entirely true.” She was looking at Milo with a hesitancy that clearly could be felt within the room. I latched onto it.
I turned to her tiredly. “What is it?”
“It’s a dead end,” Milo interrupted.
“We don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
Ignoring him, she turned towards me. “The Gatekeeper. They are said to be one of the nine barons that controls all the gates here within the Night Market. They can see each one and can match you to the one you belong to.”
“Then let me talk to them,” I said. Why wasn’t this the first thing that was mentioned?
Hazel’s face fell at that. “That’s the problem. No one has seen them in about ten years.”
“Hence,” Milo said, “why it is a dead end.”
Closing my eyes, I felt the weight of fatigue cross over me. It was like a warm blanket. One that was coaxing me into oblivion for at least a small while.
“So what now?” I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice.
“You rest,” Hazel said quietly. “You rest and recover.”
I could hear Milo shuffling about, gathering a few things while the jangling of his keys echoed around the room. <<if $workforgabriel == "false">>“Well, Hazel, it looks as if you got yourself a new shopkeep at least.”
“Shopkeep?” I asked.
Hazel shook her head. “You absolutely do not need to work for me. Don’t listen to whatever it is he just said. I’m going to give you a roof over your head and some food until you can get on your feet.”
“You need help,” Milo’s voice came in from inside. “Orders are piling up.” <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> “Well, glad that Gabe decided you should house his new employee. That’s fun."<</if>>
Hazel sighed, but didn’t say anything to him. Instead, she painted on a smile directing her concern towards me, trying her hardest to ignore him. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s have you get some sleep."
[[Sleep sounds nice|Chapter two sleep sounds nice]]
[[I don't know if I can sleep after all this|Chapter two I don't know if I can]]
[[Are you sure it's alright that I stay here?]]While sleep sounded like the only thing I wanted at the moment, I couldn’t help but look at the woman before me. I didn’t know her. She didn’t know me. Our meeting had been not even twenty minutes ago and yet she was ready to escort me upstairs to my own room and offer me the food that she had.
“Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly. “I know what the Warden said but–”
“Don’t you worry about what the Warden said. This is what I’m saying. I want to help you. I would really appreciate it if you would let me.”
I felt too exhausted to argue with her. Every bone in my body was beginning to hurt and the shop itself was blurring with exhaustion.
“Everything is going to look much better after a long rest.”
I stared at her, close to her side now, our shoulders brushing. I thought I would fall against her and sleep right there.
Standing from the table, I began to sway.
“Oh!” Hazel looked around her shop, gathering her own thoughts after our conversation. I was sure this was not how she had intended to spend her evening. “I’m Hazel, by the way. That’s Milo. I know you probably guessed all that, but official introductions are probably in order.”
We had been so caught up in our conversation, I had forgotten that these two didn’t even know my name. “I’m $name.”
Hazel’s grin brightened, the candles around us bursting with life at her smile.
“Um, this is my shop,” Hazel was saying. “I have a little apartment upstairs with extra rooms. That’s where you’ll stay. I figured you could sleep for a bit and when you get up, maybe we’ll have a better idea of what is going on with you and how to get you home?” There was something in her words that made Milo look at her sharply, but he said nothing. I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t take his eyes far from me though.
“Come on,” Hazel said, unaware of the look Milo was casting my way. “Sleep. It cures most ails.” Without another word, I followed her. Nothing else was going to get done tonight and eventually, my body was simply going to shut down.
Hazel led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pothos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep who I was willing to put my trust in, for the promise of a few hours of sleep. Maybe in the end, this was nothing more than a vivid dream.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]Sleep. It had been something that alluded me for so long. I had felt it creeping at the corners of my mind since the adrenaline faded and the majority of the danger past. The food had helped settle me even further and now, after the excitement of whatever it is I just saw, I felt my body weighed down, as if it were about to sink into the earth.
“Sleep sounds nice,” I admitted to her.
There was a softness to her as she listened to my words. Holding out her hand, Hazel invited me to come inside once more, this time, however, without the presence of the blue wisps. “I promise you,” she said, ushering me forward. “Everything is going to look much better after a long rest.”
I stared at her, close to her side now, our shoulders brushing. I thought I would fall against her and sleep right there.
Sleep. It had been something that alluded me for so long. I had felt it creeping at the corners of my mind since the adrenaline faded and the majority of the danger past. The food had helped settle me even further but I was unsure I could settle with so much uncertainty swimming around my head.
“Maybe in a few minutes,” I told her. “It’s been a long day.”
“Stick around,” she said with a wink. “I promise you this will not be the last of our grand adventures.”
I felt something uncoil at that. There was such promise in her eyes and I found myself unconsciously trusting her. If only so I could rest for the time being.
“Come on,” she beckoned, “let's get you behind some closed doors. I think it is time to put an end to your day. Quite a lot has happened to you.” That, I could not disagree with. Life had tumbled into something fast and confusing, and I had been given little time to think about just what exactly that would not mean for me.
Standing from the table, I began to sway.
“Oh!” Hazel looked around her shop, gathering her own thoughts after our conversation. I was sure this was not how she had intended to spend her evening. “I’m Hazel, by the way. That’s Milo. I know you probably guessed all that, but official introductions are probably in order.”
We had been so caught up in our conversation, I had forgotten that these two didn’t even know my name. “I’m $name.”
Hazel’s grin brightened, the candles around us bursting with life at her smile.
“Um, this is my shop,” Hazel was saying. “I have a little apartment upstairs with extra rooms. That’s where you’ll stay. I figured you could sleep for a bit and when you get up, maybe we’ll have a better idea of what is going on with you and how to get you home?” There was something in her words that made Milo look at her sharply, but he said nothing. I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t take his eyes far from me though.
“Come on,” Hazel said, unaware of the look Milo was casting my way. “Sleep. It cures most ails.” Without another word, I followed her. Nothing else was going to get done tonight and eventually, my body was simply going to shut down.
Hazel led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pothos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep who I was willing to put my trust in, for the promise of a few hours of sleep. Maybe in the end, this was nothing more than a vivid dream.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]Sleep. It had been something that alluded me for so long. I had felt it creeping at the corners of my mind since the adrenaline faded and the majority of the danger past. The food had helped settle me even further but I was unsure I could settle with so much uncertainty swimming around my head.
“Maybe in a few minutes,” I told her. “It’s been a long day.”
“Stick around,” she said with a wink. “I promise you this will not be the last of our grand adventures.”
I felt something uncoil at that. There was such promise in her eyes and I found myself unconsciously trusting her. If only so I could rest for the time being.
“Come on,” she beckoned, “let's get you behind some closed doors. I think it is time to put an end to your day. Quite a lot has happened to you.” That, I could not disagree with. Life had tumbled into something fast and confusing, and I had been given little time to think about just what exactly that would not mean for me.
Standing from the table, I began to sway.
“Oh!” Hazel looked around her shop, gathering her own thoughts after our conversation. I was sure this was not how she had intended to spend her evening. “I’m Hazel, by the way. That’s Milo. I know you probably guessed all that, but official introductions are probably in order.”
We had been so caught up in our conversation, I had forgotten that these two didn’t even know my name. “I’m $name.”
Hazel’s grin brightened, the candles around us bursting with life at her smile.
“Um, this is my shop,” Hazel was saying. “I have a little apartment upstairs with extra rooms. That’s where you’ll stay. I figured you could sleep for a bit and when you get up, maybe we’ll have a better idea of what is going on with you and how to get you home?” There was something in her words that made Milo look at her sharply, but he said nothing. I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t take his eyes far from me though.
“Come on,” Hazel said, unaware of the look Milo was casting my way. “Sleep. It cures most ails.” Without another word, I followed her. Nothing else was going to get done tonight and eventually, my body was simply going to shut down.
Hazel led me through a door, hidden behind a shelf of pothos and singing dandelions. I blinked at them as they bid goodnight to me with a bob and stumbled through the door after the shop keep who I was willing to put my trust in, for the promise of a few hours of sleep. Maybe in the end, this was nothing more than a vivid dream.
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]“Afternoon, Warden,” Hazel said, greeting him with a smile. His eyes were locked on me for a moment longer before turning to her. “Are you here for your tonic?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, hands remaining stiff at his side. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t even dare talk. "And to check on prisoner 47b."
Hazel paused, looking between us. "Prisoner 47b?"
"Yes," he affirmed. "They never saw fit to give me their name so that is their designation." His words curled around me, feeling like the cold trickle of water within the cell. My body was tensed, ready to run if necessary. I would in no way be returning to those cells above the docks.
Hazel's eyes ticked nervously to mine. "I see. Well, I just finished brewing a new batch this morning, so it’s nice and fresh. I'll go cork it and give you two a minute." There was a small room behind the counter, blocked off from the public by a beaded curtain of bone and linen. As the curtain settled, the Warden and I were left alone in a room together once more.
The low whir of a bubbling pot sounded somewhere within the shop, although I was unsure exactly where, and the gentle tap of an insistent tree scraped hesitantly on the rooftop above. The cold eyes belonging to the man who had escorted me to my cell, leveled against me evenly. My gaze shifted uncomfortably away, but he did not break. It caused my stomach to flip and my body to ready itself to run.
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>"How are you finding your accomidations?" His tone was soft, just beneath the sound of a hush, despite there being no one but Mr. Billows around. It was unexpected, coming from him. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> "I hope you are finding your accomidations well. I expect you to report for work in the next few days. We can discuss then how you will be working off your bail."<</if>>
[[I'm not going back with you|Chapter two fp I'm not going back with you]]
[[I did nothing wrong|Chapter two fp I did nothing wrong]]
[[That's all that matters? That I work off my debt?]]
“There is no way I’m going back with you,” I told him, backing away.
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>"Those were the terms of our agreement," he said politely. "Now, you can either come and see me in a few days, or," he gestured to the faded bands across my wrists. "I can reignite those for you and I can drag you to my offices myself. Your choice."
"I'll break them. I did it once. I can do it again."
"A fluke I'm sure." <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>"I am not here to bring you back. I am here to make sure you are honoring our agreement with Ms. Albright. And to pick up my tonic."<</if>>
"Hazel didn't even know I was coming here. You forced this upon her just as you forced it upon me." Hazel's eyes as I had entered the apothecary. She hadn't known I was coming that night. She had no idea what had walked through her front door.
"And yet, I have received a lovely muffin basket from her since your arrival and a thanks for not sending you straight to the flesh traders and giving her a chance to help you instead." There was nothing smug about his words and yet I felt a sense of bitterness come over me as I looked at him. His actions were born from a place of power alone and I wanted to dismantle it. It was a sudden desire that burned through me.
[[Go fuck yourself|Chapter two go fuck yourself]]
[[I'll do what you say but not willingly]]
[[You should be leaving Hazel out of this]]“I did nothing wrong,” I shouted. “Are we really going to continue this charade?” I had hoped that maybe given some time he would see reason. Forget about me even. Surely the Warden of the Night Market had better things to do.
“I do not forget about my duties,” he said bluntly.
"Hazel didn't even know I was coming here. You forced this upon her just as you forced it upon me." Hazel's eyes as I had entered the apothecary. She hadn't known I was coming that night. She had no idea what had walked through her front door.
"And yet, I have received a lovely muffin basket from her since your arrival and a thanks for not sending you straight to the flesh traders and giving her a chance to help you instead." There was nothing smug about his words and yet I felt a sense of bitterness come over me as I looked at him. His actions were born from a place of power alone and I wanted to dismantle it. It was a sudden desire that burned through me.
[[Go fuck yourself|Chapter two go fuck yourself]]
[[I'll do what you say but not willingly]]
[[You should be leaving Hazel out of this]]“Is that all that matters to you? That I pay off my debt? One you created?”
He looked at me as one would look patiently at a small child. “You broke the rules within our society. Was I not supposed to punish you?”
“Not when I didn’t know the rules,” I shouted. “This was all a mistake. Have you ever thought that maybe something happened to me? Instead of helping me you immediately assumed me the enemy.”
Nothing. Not a single emotion crossed his face. If the thought had even crossed his mind, it was clear he didn’t care.
"Hazel didn't even know I was coming here. You forced this upon her just as you forced it upon me." Hazel's eyes as I had entered the apothecary. She hadn't known I was coming that night. She had no idea what had walked through her front door.
"And yet, I have received a lovely muffin basket from her since your arrival and a thanks for not sending you straight to the flesh traders and giving her a chance to help you instead." There was nothing smug about his words and yet I felt a sense of bitterness come over me as I looked at him. His actions were born from a place of power alone and I wanted to dismantle it. It was a sudden desire that burned through me.
[[Go fuck yourself|Chapter two go fuck yourself]]
[[I'll do what you say but not willingly]]
[[You should be leaving Hazel out of this]]“I will be doing what you ask,” I told him. “I do not want to cause more problems. But I am not doing this willingly. And you are wrong for how you have treated me.”
He nodded his head as if to actually take my words into consideration. It gave off the tone of someone that was just patronizing another, though. I had little doubt that my words actually mattered to him.
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulse beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The smile that crossed his face was nothing more than a courtesy as he looked at Hazel, holding out his hand. “I appreciate that, Ms. Albright. And I thank you again for your discretion.”
“Of course, Warden.”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>Turning back to me, his look sharpened again. “I expect you to report to work in a few days. Please let me know if you need an escort.”
Hazel hovered close by as he made his way towards the front door, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>”And I do appreciate your help in the matter of Prisoner 47b. Please let me know if they are not upholding their portion of the bargain.”
Hazel’s smile was tight as she stepped to my side. “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem, Warden. But thank you. I will see you next month for your next tonic.” Hazel hovered close by as he made his way towards the front door, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into the Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]
“Hazel has nothing to do with any of this. You should have left her out of it.” From the small amount of interactions I had had with the woman, there was no reason for him to include her in this odd power dynamic that he so obviously lorded over. The fact that he had sent me to her enraged me in a way that I hadn’t expected.
“Ms. Albright is a well known acquaintance of mine. I felt as if I sent you to one of the safest places within the market. Especially considering you do not think you have your memories.”
“I don’t have my memories,” I told him.
“Yes. So you keep saying. That may be, if Ms. Albright has an issue with my actions, she can take it up with me.”
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulse beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The smile that crossed his face was nothing more than a courtesy as he looked at Hazel, holding out his hand. “I appreciate that, Ms. Albright. And I thank you again for your discretion.”
“Of course, Warden.”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>Turning back to me, his look sharpened again. “I expect you to report to work in a few days. Please let me know if you need an escort.”
Hazel hovered close by as he made his way towards the front door, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>”And I do appreciate your help in the matter of Prisoner 47b. Please let me know if they are not upholding their portion of the bargain.”
Hazel’s smile was tight as she stepped to my side. “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem, Warden. But thank you. I will see you next month for your next tonic.” Hazel hovered close by as he made his way towards the front door, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into the Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]
“You can go fuck yourself,” I spat. The audacity of this man. <<if $workforgabriel == "true">>The thought of having to work with him for the upcoming days twisted in my guts. The man had no qualms with killing me until I agreed to do his paperwork for him. The amount of disgust that I felt as I looked at him standing there, completely blank faced and calm, made my fists clench at my sides.<<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>Choosing to work for Hazel had not even been a choice. The man before me had no qualms of killing me and even with his assertion that he would be checking up on me through the upcoming days, I felt far more comfortable within the walls of the apothecary than anywhere near the beach again.<</if>>
“It is unfortunate that you see things that way,” he said, his tone bland. “I do hope in the upcoming days you do learn to speak to me with a bit more of a respectful tone.”
“Here you are.” Hazel appeared from the back, a small sack of the deepest black velvet in her hand. Shifting dark pulsed beneath a silver chain, the material so dark that it looked unreal. There was a faint glow coming from within and I had a feeling without the darkness, it would be blinding. “Don’t worry about the violet petals I snuck in there. I didn’t charge you extra. Just wanted to give you a nice smell when you open the bag, you know.”
The smile that crossed his face was nothing more than a courtesy as he looked at Hazel, holding out his hand. “I appreciate that, Ms. Albright. And I thank you again for your discretion.”
“Of course, Warden.”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>Turning back to me, his look sharpened again. “I expect you to report to work in a few days. Please let me know if you need an escort.”
Hazel hovered close by as he made his way towards the front door, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into The Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "false">>”And I do appreciate your help in the matter of Prisoner 47b. Please let me know if they are not upholding their portion of the bargain.”
Hazel’s smile was tight as she stepped to my side. “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem, Warden. But thank you. I will see you next month for your next tonic.” Hazel hovered close by as he made his way towards the front door, keeping a close eye on the man lest he opened the door to a bunch of Velvet Guard, ready to apprehend me.
The door swung open before Gabriel could reach it, a jangle of keys and heavy work boots barreled into the room. Milo knocked right into the Warden’s chest, jumping back and flattening himself to the side of the entryway as Gabriel pressed on through. He didn’t bother to stop other than to look at the man with a brief amount of disgust. Instead, he looked back towards Hazel with a tip of his head and took his leave.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Two Milo enters]]
Far off murmurs filtered through as I blinked, trying to discern why the stars above swayed with such a gentle breeze. They were mesmerizing, floating in heavy lines of bright light before dipping down into a soft filtered gray sheen of fog. I lifted my hand, reaching out for them…
[[Next|Solo 2]]
Pain. Such debilitating pain. My breath stolen from me in a sharp gasp. Sizzling meat crackling in my ear and the loud shouts of a man who was trying to gain someone's attention. Too loud. Too loud. Tooloudtooloudtooloud.
[[I hear water|Solo 3]]
Trickling water over a sloping log. Layers of green filtering across the ground like shattered gems and someone else's wish.
[[The pain is too much…|Solo 4]]
“Mine. All mine.” Giggles and magic soaked eyes. The world swam and my stomach emptied somewhere with a splash while hands blackened and burnt crawled towards me, hissing and clawing at the ground. A girl. Young. Tilted her head and stared.
“Death comes for us all…”
Nothing.
Absolute nothing.
[[...|Solo 5]]...
[[A voice|Solo 6]]“Get the fuck out of here. Your kind aren’t welcome.” I winced at the voice of a man. Close. Burnt sugar and bourbon. The press of gold against my cheek. “It’s alright, darlin’. You’re alright.”
Crackling of fire. The rush of skirts. Glass bottles, a ringing bell. What is happening?
[[Try to look towards the voice]]
[[Close your eyes to the pain]]
I blinked rapidly, my lashes sticky with sweat and… tears? I couldn’t tell. The world swam and the blur of a face peered down at me. The arms were strong, though. Holding me. Different from the ones that had carried me before.
“Put ?them down here.” Soft. Such a soft song of a voice. Pretty. Different from the one close by.
My head hit a pillow, hair swept from my eyes. Strong arms releasing me and leaving me to feel cold. I began to shake.
“Milo, this doesn’t…”
“I know.”
[[Ask what’s wrong]]
[[Reach our for comfort]]I shifted, feeling my stomach, hollow and empty. Acid burning my throat. I kept my eyes closed, as if to stave off the pain, turning my face into the clean, crisp shirt of whoever carried me. My cheeks brushing against skin.
“Put ?them down here.” Soft. Such a soft song of a voice. Pretty.
My head hit a pillow, hair swept from my eyes. Strong arms releasing me and leaving me to feel cold. I began to shake.
“Milo, this doesn’t…”
“I know.”
[[Ask what’s wrong]]
[[Reach our for comfort]]“What’s wrong? What is happening?” I tried to speak. Tried to stretch my voice out towards the blurry visions at my side. Nothing but a garbled murmur escaped me and despite my efforts to focus, I couldn’t stop my vision from blurring. The pain was too much. Too consuming. My skin suddenly felt too hot and tight, and I just wanted to scream.
“Hold ?them.” The woman demanded.
A burning fire raced through me, tearing out my insides and leaving me bloody and bare on some cold slab while the faces above me swam in and out of view. Tears tracked down my cheeks and someone, somewhere, was screaming so loud. They wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t they stop?
I was dying. I could feel it. It felt as if everything in me was being torn in two as I tried to thrash and claw and…
[[Succumb to the pain]]
[[Try to hold on a bit longer]]My hand lifted. An inch. Two? But it fell weakly against my side, where something wet and sticky laid. A warm hand held onto my own, the cold steel of rings hard against my clammy skin. Another, this was softer and smelling of lavender, stroked across my brow.
“You’re alright,” the man whispered. “We got you.”
The soft reminder that I was safe settled over me for a brief and shining moment. One that filled my caving chest with fresh air as I stared up blearily at a set of honey colored eyes and soft sandy hair. My back arched as something was laid against me and a scream erupted from my throat
“Hold ?them.” The woman demanded.
It hurt. It raced up my side in a way that had the side of my face feel as if it was melting. Tears tracked down my cheeks and someone, somewhere, was screaming so loud.
I was dying. I could feel it. It felt as if everything in me was being torn in two as I tried to thrash and claw and…
[[Succumb to the pain]]
[[Try to hold on a bit longer]]It was too much. Too much too quick and my world was spinning in a way that told me it was the end.
I welcomed it.
Darkness at least was a reprieve.
[[Next|The Next Morning]]
I gritted my teeth, trying to even my breathing. It wouldn’t last forever. This kind of pain would not take me from consciousness. I would fight. I would…
Something soothing settled across me and my chest loosened in relief. I felt the exhaustion creep over me like a warm blanket. My muscles turned liquid as I began to float away.
“There,” the woman whispered, panting. “That should do it.”
“You can’t keep doing shit like that.” The man's voice. Choked with emotion. Fear.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I know.”
Silence.
Blissful silence.
Was I asleep?
“You can’t leave me.”
I was unsure who he was begging not to go.
[[Next|The Next Morning]]
I awoke to the sweet smell of honey and baked bread. It drifted across me like the warmth of the afternoon sun, a lazy day wrapped up in familiar comforts of home. For one long and beautiful moment, I felt at peace.
When I opened my eyes, all I saw were rafters. Thick beams hung up above, with bundles of dried flowers and herbs strung from them with braided hemp. Blinking, I slowly looked around. I was in some sort of shop. Dark mahogany wood floors ran in vertical lines towards a large door with a stained-glass window. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars housing teas and powders, along with bundles of sage and crystals. Next to these were overfilled crates and baskets with fresh fruit and vegetables. A few barrels of what looked like unprocessed wheat and a cart of nuts stood off to the side, the owner having cast them aside in a hurry.
In the other direction, was a large wrap counter, seated next to an iron spiral staircase that led up to what looked like a library. Behind the counter, it was much the same situation as the rest of the shop. Though, the jars looked a bit more questionable in nature. They were all situated next to large brass scales and piles of different tools, only a few of which I recognized as belonging to a kitchen.
The crack of a large fire echoed across the otherwise quiet shop, drawing out the occasional bubble that could be heard from a simmering cauldron hanging over the flames. I looked down at myself. My dirty tunic was still in place, but as I lifted it, a white bandage was wrapped around my middle.
[[Try to get up]]
[[Stay seated]]Gingerly, I sat forward, testing the wound at my side. My memories of getting here were blurry at best and while it seemed as if whoever owned this shop had patched me kindly up, I wasn’t sure if that meant I should be sticking around. At the very least, I wanted to see how mobile I was in case of a quick escape.
Attempting to swing my legs over the side of the settee, I winced in pain, falling back. It wasn’t anything akin to the pain I remembered feeling before. But there was a warning there. My side was twinging in just such a way that told me any sharp movements would send me crashing to the ground.
Pressing my hand to my ribs, I bit my lip, debating if the pain would be worth it. If I should run.
“You’re up.”
My head snapped upwards at the soft, feminine voice. A woman stood near a backdoor, tucked away behind the counter, an overflowing basket of produce in her arms. She wore layers of patchwork skirts, along with a brown apron and a cream-colored blouse. The light from the candles played across the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, giving her heart shaped face a youthful look. Stray curls fell across her tanned skin, escaping from the bun she had piled it in. I remembered them from before. Or, at least I thought I did.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
[[Like death]]
[[Okay, I think]]
[[Remarkably fine, all things considering]]I didn’t dare press my luck. There was a soft twinge in my side and while it didn’t feel anything close to the white-hot pain I remembered from before, I did not want to chance making anything worse. I wasn’t sure how bad the damage was and only assumed that whoever owned the shop had patched me up. For all I knew, the only thing holding my guts inside was the tightly wound bandage around my midsection.
“You’re up.”
My head snapped upwards at the soft, feminine voice. A woman stood near a backdoor, tucked away behind the counter, an overflowing basket of produce in her arms. She wore layers of patchwork skirts, along with a brown apron and a cream-colored blouse. The light from the candles played across the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, giving her heart shaped face a youthful look. Stray curls fell across her tanned skin, escaping from the bun she had piled it in. I remembered them from before. Or, at least I thought I did.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
[[Like death]]
[[Okay, I think]]
[[Remarkably fine, all things considering]]I paused for a moment before answering, trying to take stock of how I truly felt. The events that led me to laying in this bed were ones that still lingered in my mind in an effort to send me spiraling into some fit of fear. There was little understanding that had come with being stabbed, and how I even wound up here was just another cog in my confusion.
The cold embrace of death didn’t linger any longer but I didn’t feel good. I felt too warm. My skin too tight. And there was an overall ache that filtered through me that had my head swimming and my eyes threatening to fall shut once more.
“Kind of like death?” I answered. I tried to smile at her, but was almost certain it came out a grimace. One that I was sure was proving my point. Death may not have me in their clutches anymore, but that didn’t mean they didn’t linger.
She tutted a little at that, setting her basket down on the counter. I wasn’t sure if the noise she made was general concern or disapproval for my own words. Walking over to me, she bent by my side. The worn floral settee beneath me had a small blood stain near where my hand rested. It made me wonder just how much the soft throw over my lap was concealing.
“May I?” she gestured towards my shirt and I nodded. Slowly, she lifted my tunic, unwrapping the bandages and peeling away a stained piece of gauze. I expected to see horror beneath the wraps. A mottled bit of flesh covered in blood. Instead, there was only a jagged scar. One that curved across my side, against my $skincolor skin. The woman before me breathed a sigh of relief.
“Good. It’s healing.”
[[That's impossible]]
[[What happened?]]
[[How long have I been out?]]
[[You were the one who healed me?]]I paused for a moment before answering, trying to take stock of how I truly felt. The events that led me to laying in this bed were ones that still lingered in my mind in an effort to send me spiraling into some fit of fear. There was little understanding that had come with being stabbed, and how I even wound up here was just another cog in my confusion.
Overall, I felt okay. My eyes were gritty with exhaustion, and I was unsure how long I would be able to keep them open. But bolts of sharp-edged torment was not racing through me any longer. I considered that to be a good sign.
“Okay, I think.” I answered.
Walking over to me, she bent by my side. The worn floral settee beneath me had a small blood stain near where my hand rested. It made me wonder just how much the soft throw over my lap was concealing.
“May I?” she gestured towards my shirt and I nodded. Slowly, she lifted my tunic, unwrapping the bandages and peeling away a stained piece of gauze. I expected to see horror beneath the wraps. A mottled bit of flesh covered in blood. Instead, there was only a jagged scar. One that curved across my side, against my $skincolor skin. The woman before me breathed a sigh of relief.
“Good. It’s healing.”
[[That's impossible]]
[[What happened?]]
[[How long have I been out?]]
[[You were the one who healed me?]]I paused for a moment before answering, trying to take stock of how I truly felt. The events that led me to laying in this bed were ones that still lingered in my mind in an effort to send me spiraling into some fit of fear. There was little understanding that had come with being stabbed, and how I even wound up here was just another cog in my confusion.
Overall, I felt okay. My eyes were gritty with exhaustion, and I was unsure how long I would be able to keep them open. But bolts of sharp-edged torment was not racing through me any longer. I considered that to be a good sign. One that really shouldn’t be there given what I had just gone through.
“Oddly okay,” I said, my voice carrying the slightest hint of a rasp. “Why do I feel oddly okay?”
“Because I’m good at what I do,” she said with a coy smile.
Walking over to me, she bent by my side. The worn floral settee beneath me had a small blood stain near where my hand rested. It made me wonder just how much the soft throw over my lap was concealing.
“May I?” she gestured towards my shirt and I nodded. Slowly, she lifted my tunic, unwrapping the bandages and peeling away a stained piece of gauze. I expected to see horror beneath the wraps. A mottled bit of flesh covered in blood. Instead, there was only a jagged scar. One that curved across my side, against my $skincolor skin. The woman before me breathed a sigh of relief.
“Good. It’s healing.”
[[That's impossible]]
[[What happened?]]
[[How long have I been out?]]
[[You were the one who healed me?]]My eyes tracked the woman’s movements as she continued to check me over. She kept her hands visible and made sure to conduct herself slowly to give me the opportunity to stop her.
“What happened?” I asked. The feel of the knife piercing my skin was still a potent memory. But everything else had slipped away.
Tucking the blanket around me, I watched her gaze tick up towards mine. “You were brought here nearly unconscious,” she said. “The wound in your side looked pretty bad. I healed you as best as I could.”
I remembered lights and a vague sense of being watched. Of being carried through some place loud and bright but dark all at once. Impressions that made little sense filled my head but I had no reason to doubt her words.
The woman rose, only to seat herself on the low rise table before me. It was made of light pine wood and was stained with use. She rested her hands in her lap, the purple smudges beneath her eyes suggesting she had been up with me for most of my rest.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
There was a part of me that wondered if I should give it to her. But being difficult over something so simple felt like the wrong move when this woman had clearly saved my life. “$name.”
“Hello $name. I’m Hazel.”
“I remember hearing your voice,” I murmured. Small inflections of her tone swam back to me. They had been something soft to cling to when the pain had become unbearable. “Someone brought me here?”
“Yes. I’m afraid I didn’t catch his name. Do you remember anything about what happened to you?”
[[Keep silent, unsure if you can trust this woman]]
[[Lie and tell her you think you were mugged]]
[[Tell her you escaped from the bail block]]
My eyes searched the room, falling on an open window. The sky outside looked black, a dark purple haze stretching across a tree lined horizon. I could hear the sound of crickets and see the faint outline of what looked like little orbs of light. They were blue and skittered across the grass before jumping up to disappear within the trees.
“How long have I been out?” I asked with a frown. Had an entire day gone by?
“Not terribly long,” she said. “Though I suspect you’ll be tired again soon. Your body needs to heal.”
The woman rose, only to seat herself on the low rise table before me. It was made of light pine wood and was stained with use. She rested her hands in her lap, the purple smudges beneath her eyes suggesting she had been up with me for most of my rest.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
There was a part of me that wondered if I should give it to her. But being difficult over something so simple felt like the wrong move when this woman had clearly saved my life. “$name.”
“Hello $name. I’m Hazel.”
“I remember hearing your voice,” I murmured. Small inflections of her tone swam back to me. They had been something soft to cling to when the pain had become unbearable. “Someone brought me here?”
“Yes. I’m afraid I didn’t catch his name. Do you remember anything about what happened to you?”
[[Keep silent, unsure if you can trust this woman]]
[[Lie and tell her you think you were mugged]]
[[Tell her you escaped from the bail block]]
There was a familiarity to her voice. I remembered it through my pain soaked memories. She had hands that were soft and cool and smelled like herbs heated beneath the sun. “Were you the one who healed me?”
Her smile was soft. Everything about this woman was comfort. “I did the best I could. Hopefully it keeps. A little to the right and I don’t think you would be so lucky. Not that being stabbed probably feels all that lucky to begin with.”
The woman rose, only to seat herself on the low rise table before me. It was made of light pine wood and was stained with use. She rested her hands in her lap, the purple smudges beneath her eyes suggesting she had been up with me for most of my rest.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
There was a part of me that wondered if I should give it to her. But being difficult over something so simple felt like the wrong move when this woman had clearly saved my life. “$name.”
“Hello $name. I’m Hazel.”
“I remember hearing your voice,” I murmured. Small inflections of her tone swam back to me. They had been something soft to cling to when the pain had become unbearable. “Someone brought me here?”
“Yes. I’m afraid I didn’t catch his name. Do you remember anything about what happened to you?”
[[Keep silent, unsure if you can trust this woman]]
[[Lie and tell her you think you were mugged]]
[[Tell her you escaped from the bail block]]
<<set $perception to $perception+1>>“I don’t think wounds heal that fast,” I said in disbelief, my eyes still drawn to the scar before she covered it back up and gave my side a small pat.The gauze felt like a set dressing at this point. It wasn’t even stained with blood.
“You don’t?” she asked, her voice amused.
“I know they don’t,” I countered. I did know that, right?
The woman rose, only to seat herself on the low rise table before me. It was made of light pine wood and was stained with use. She rested her hands in her lap, the purple smudges beneath her eyes suggesting she had been up with me for most of my rest.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
There was a part of me that wondered if I should give it to her. But being difficult over something so simple felt like the wrong move when this woman had clearly saved my life. “$name.”
“Hello $name. I’m Hazel.”
“I remember hearing your voice,” I murmured. Small inflections of her tone swam back to me. They had been something soft to cling to when the pain had become unbearable. “Someone brought me here?”
“Yes. I’m afraid I didn’t catch his name. Do you remember anything about what happened to you?”
[[Keep silent, unsure if you can trust this woman]]
[[Lie and tell her you think you were mugged]]
[[Tell her you escaped from the bail block]]
I kept silent. How was I supposed to tell her I had escaped from the cells. The very place where I was set to inhabit until either I was bought or tossed aside. I didn’t know enough about this world to lie, nor did I think I would be able to craft a particularly convincing one. But the truth would put me right back at that beach again.
Seeing the look of hesitation on my face, Hazel shrugged it off, as if she hadn’t asked her previous question.
“How about anyone I could contact?” she asked simply. “A family member? A friend?”
The thought of someone close clawed at the pit of my stomach, a reminder of how small and insignificant I was right now. “No,” I said. “I’m all alone.”
Something in her face crumbled at that as she reached out, placing her hand on mine. I looked down at it, watching how her fingers curled in a soft squeeze. “Well, then I’m glad Milo and I were here to help.”
“Milo?” It was now that I remembered a secondary voice during my time coming in and out of consciousness. Someone who had been with her, helping her. It rang familiar in a different way.
“Yes. He’s down by the river right now. Gathering a few things for me today. I’m afraid I’m a bit tired.” Her eyes ticked to the side, as if she hadn’t meant for the words to slip. I wasn’t sure if I should inquire into them further. I wasn’t given the chance as the back door opened with a loud bang.
My stomach dropped.
<<if $cagemilo == "true">>A man, dressed in dark brown trousers with suspenders hanging loose at his hips, walked in. An off-white shirt was tucked into his pants, unbuttoned halfway to show off a series of gold chains and pendants on his freckled skin. He had a mess of sandy colored hair and soft, nearly amber colored eyes. Eyes I was very familiar with since I had snapped the cage door shut, sealing him inside.
“Got the rocks,” he proclaimed, letting a large sack fall just inside the door. His eyes ticked over to where Hazel was sitting, before sliding towards me. “Ah, you’re alive. Was touch and go there for a while. Think someone nicked your spleen or lung or something.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “The fact that he thinks a spleen and a lung are in the same area should be enough proof not to listen to him.”
He laughed loudly, his face creasing into an easy smile as he flung a lock shut on the backdoor. I swallowed thickly, watching the way his fingers twisted the cogs and shut us inside the shop with a firm click.
[[Stay silent. Maybe he didn’t remember me]]
[[How did you get out?]]
[[I really am sorry for what I did]]<<elseif $cagemilo == "false">>A man, dressed in dark brown trousers with suspenders hanging loose at his hips, walked in. An off-white shirt was tucked into his pants, unbuttoned halfway to show off a series of gold chains and pendants on his freckled skin. He had a mess of sandy colored hair and soft, nearly amber colored eyes. Eyes I was very familiar with since they had been on the other side of my bars."
“Got the rocks,” he proclaimed, letting a large sack fall just inside the door. His eyes ticked over to where Hazel was sitting, before sliding towards me. “Ah, you’re alive. Was touch and go there for a while. Think someone nicked your spleen or lung or something.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “The fact that he thinks a spleen and a lung are in the same area should be enough proof not to listen to him.”
He laughed loudly, his face creasing into an easy smile as he flung a lock shut on the backdoor. I watched the way his fingers twisted the cogs and shut us inside the shop with a firm click. "You took the main road, didn't you," he said, turning to me.
"I-- yes. But then I went to the saloons."
Milo nodded. "Figured as much."
"Milo told me he helped get you out," Hazel said. "What happened from there?"
“I ran into some more guards. Tried to lie and they caught me in it. They then chased me down an alley and… well, then all of this.” I gestured around me. They knew more of what followed than I did. Only, I couldn’t quite figure out why I was taken to Hazel’s. There had been no one else in the alley but the guards, right?
I frowned. I seemed to remember someone else towards the end. A husky voice that came from the dark. Eyes of crimson and gold.
“Well,” Milo leaned back, satisfied with whatever I had to tell them. “That settles is then. Hazel, meet your new shopkeep.”
“What?” I frowned. It had not been what I was expecting by any means, and the look of revenge that I thought I had seen lingering within Milo’s eyes was all but replaced by keen amusement once more.
“You need help,” he explained. “Hazel needs help. It’s a win-win situation.”
“Milo, stop,” Hazel said tiredly. She had taken in the entirety of the story, of the charade that had played out since Milo walked in the back door, in relative silence.
“Am I wrong?”
When she ignored him he took no offense. It looked as if it were an action he was used to.
When Hazel turned back to me, her face was soft and kind. “You must have so many questions,” she said. “But despite being healed outwardly, you are still healing on the inside. I’m afraid you are going to be exhausted for a bit. Before you get some more rest, is there anything we can help clear up for you?”
“Bed?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to move you before, but I think you could manage it now.” Her eyes ticked towards the spiral staircase. If I was meant to go up there, I didn’t know if I would make it. “I have a few spare rooms up top.”
[[I do have a few questions about the Night Market]]
[[Am I in hiding?]]
[[So you’re not going to throw me back to the guard?]]<</if>>Not knowing what else to do, I lied. “I uh, was taking a different way home when I was attacked,” I said. “I didn’t see their face.”
Hazel nodded solemnly. “The streets were less patrolled last night. Most of the guards were down at the beachfront.”
I nodded, figuring the less I revealed, the easier my cover story was going to be. I just had to get out of here and… and what? What exactly was I supposed to be doing? What was I supposed to be looking for? I knew nothing of what to do next except for the vague idea of perhaps trying to find the alley in which the guards had originally arrested me and see if I could discern where to go from there.
“Is there anyone I can contact?” she asked simply. “A family member? A friend?”
The thought of someone close clawed at the pit of my stomach, a reminder of how small and insignificant I was right now. “No,” I said. “I’m all alone.”
Something in her face crumbled at that as she reached out, placing her hand on mine. I looked down at it, watching how her fingers curled in a soft squeeze. “Well, then I’m glad Milo and I were here to help.”
“Milo?” It was now that I remembered a secondary voice during my time coming in and out of consciousness. Someone who had been with her, helping her. It rang familiar in a different way.
“Yes. He’s down by the river right now. Gathering a few things for me today. I’m afraid I’m a bit tired.” Her eyes ticked to the side, as if she hadn’t meant for the words to slip. I wasn’t sure if I should inquire into them further. I wasn’t given the chance as the back door opened with a loud bang.
My stomach dropped.
<<if $cagemilo == "true">>A man, dressed in dark brown trousers with suspenders hanging loose at his hips, walked in. An off-white shirt was tucked into his pants, unbuttoned halfway to show off a series of gold chains and pendants on his freckled skin. He had a mess of sandy colored hair and soft, nearly amber colored eyes. Eyes I was very familiar with since I had snapped the cage door shut, sealing him inside.
“Got the rocks,” he proclaimed, letting a large sack fall just inside the door. His eyes ticked over to where Hazel was sitting, before sliding towards me. “Ah, you’re alive. Was touch and go there for a while. Think someone nicked your spleen or lung or something.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “The fact that he thinks a spleen and a lung are in the same area should be enough proof not to listen to him.”
He laughed loudly, his face creasing into an easy smile as he flung a lock shut on the backdoor. I swallowed thickly, watching the way his fingers twisted the cogs and shut us inside the shop with a firm click.
[[Stay silent. Maybe he didn’t remember me]]
[[How did you get out?]]
[[I really am sorry for what I did]]<<elseif $cagemilo == "false">>A man, dressed in dark brown trousers with suspenders hanging loose at his hips, walked in. An off-white shirt was tucked into his pants, unbuttoned halfway to show off a series of gold chains and pendants on his freckled skin. He had a mess of sandy colored hair and soft, nearly amber colored eyes. Eyes I was very familiar with since they had been on the other side of my bars."
“Got the rocks,” he proclaimed, letting a large sack fall just inside the door. His eyes ticked over to where Hazel was sitting, before sliding towards me. “Ah, you’re alive. Was touch and go there for a while. Think someone nicked your spleen or lung or something.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “The fact that he thinks a spleen and a lung are in the same area should be enough proof not to listen to him.”
He laughed loudly, his face creasing into an easy smile as he flung a lock shut on the backdoor. I watched the way his fingers twisted the cogs and shut us inside the shop with a firm click. "You took the main road, didn't you," he said, turning to me.
"I-- yes. But then I went to the saloons."
Milo nodded. "Figured as much."
"Milo told me he helped get you out," Hazel said. "What happened from there?"
“I ran into some more guards. Tried to lie and they caught me in it. They then chased me down an alley and… well, then all of this.” I gestured around me. They knew more of what followed than I did. Only, I couldn’t quite figure out why I was taken to Hazel’s. There had been no one else in the alley but the guards, right?
I frowned. I seemed to remember someone else towards the end. A husky voice that came from the dark. Eyes of crimson and gold.
“Well,” Milo leaned back, satisfied with whatever I had to tell them. “That settles is then. Hazel, meet your new shopkeep.”
“What?” I frowned. It had not been what I was expecting by any means, and the look of revenge that I thought I had seen lingering within Milo’s eyes was all but replaced by keen amusement once more.
“You need help,” he explained. “Hazel needs help. It’s a win-win situation.”
“Milo, stop,” Hazel said tiredly. She had taken in the entirety of the story, of the charade that had played out since Milo walked in the back door, in relative silence.
“Am I wrong?”
When she ignored him he took no offense. It looked as if it were an action he was used to.
When Hazel turned back to me, her face was soft and kind. “You must have so many questions,” she said. “But despite being healed outwardly, you are still healing on the inside. I’m afraid you are going to be exhausted for a bit. Before you get some more rest, is there anything we can help clear up for you?”
“Bed?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to move you before, but I think you could manage it now.” Her eyes ticked towards the spiral staircase. If I was meant to go up there, I didn’t know if I would make it. “I have a few spare rooms up top.”
[[I do have a few questions about the Night Market]]
[[Am I in hiding?]]
[[So you’re not going to throw me back to the guard?]]<</if>>I felt the nerves roll in my stomach. I was a terrible liar and even if I wasn’t, I knew so little about where I was or how this world operated, that I didn’t think I would be able to pull off anything successfully. Besides, she looked kind. I had been dropped in her lap and she had helped me without question. I had to start trusting someone within the market, or else I didn’t know how I was going to make it through.
“I was part of the bail block last night,” I told her. My words came out in a rush, falling over each other as I got them out before I lost my courage.
Hazel’s eyes widened, but she made no move to turn away. “You escaped?”
“Yes.” I said with a slow nod. “I ended up running from my cage and through the Saloons that line the other side of the beach. There was a backdoor I ended up slipping through, and I thought I would be able to escape from there, but there were guards.” My luck had been abysmal. They hadn’t even been waiting for me. I literally ran straight to the people I was trying so desperately to escape from.
At that, I noticed Hazel’s face grow concerned, her eyes ticking down to my wound. “Are they the ones that hurt you?”
“Yes,” I told her. I hoped more than anything she was not loyal to the guard.
Something in her face crumbled at that as she reached out, placing her hand on mine. I looked down at it, watching how her fingers curled in a soft squeeze. “Well, then I’m glad Milo and I were here to help.”
“Milo?” It was now that I remembered a secondary voice during my time coming in and out of consciousness. Someone who had been with her, helping her. It rang familiar in a different way.
“Yes. He’s down by the river right now. Gathering a few things for me today. I’m afraid I’m a bit tired.” Her eyes ticked to the side, as if she hadn’t meant for the words to slip. I wasn’t sure if I should inquire into them further. I wasn’t given the chance as the back door opened with a loud bang.
My stomach dropped.
<<if $cagemilo == "true">>A man, dressed in dark brown trousers with suspenders hanging loose at his hips, walked in. An off-white shirt was tucked into his pants, unbuttoned halfway to show off a series of gold chains and pendants on his freckled skin. He had a mess of sandy colored hair and soft, nearly amber colored eyes. Eyes I was very familiar with since I had snapped the cage door shut, sealing him inside.
“Got the rocks,” he proclaimed, letting a large sack fall just inside the door. His eyes ticked over to where Hazel was sitting, before sliding towards me. “Ah, you’re alive. Was touch and go there for a while. Think someone nicked your spleen or lung or something.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “The fact that he thinks a spleen and a lung are in the same area should be enough proof not to listen to him.”
He laughed loudly, his face creasing into an easy smile as he flung a lock shut on the backdoor. I swallowed thickly, watching the way his fingers twisted the cogs and shut us inside the shop with a firm click.
[[Stay silent. Maybe he didn’t remember me]]
[[How did you get out?]]
[[I really am sorry for what I did]]<<elseif $cagemilo == "false">>A man, dressed in dark brown trousers with suspenders hanging loose at his hips, walked in. An off-white shirt was tucked into his pants, unbuttoned halfway to show off a series of gold chains and pendants on his freckled skin. He had a mess of sandy colored hair and soft, nearly amber colored eyes. Eyes I was very familiar with since they had been on the other side of my bars."
“Got the rocks,” he proclaimed, letting a large sack fall just inside the door. His eyes ticked over to where Hazel was sitting, before sliding towards me. “Ah, you’re alive. Was touch and go there for a while. Think someone nicked your spleen or lung or something.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “The fact that he thinks a spleen and a lung are in the same area should be enough proof not to listen to him.”
He laughed loudly, his face creasing into an easy smile as he flung a lock shut on the backdoor. I watched the way his fingers twisted the cogs and shut us inside the shop with a firm click. "You took the main road, didn't you," he said, turning to me.
"I-- yes. But then I went to the saloons."
Milo nodded. "Figured as much."
"Milo told me he helped get you out," Hazel said. "What happened from there?"
“I ran into some more guards. Tried to lie and they caught me in it. They then chased me down an alley and… well, then all of this.” I gestured around me. They knew more of what followed than I did. Only, I couldn’t quite figure out why I was taken to Hazel’s. There had been no one else in the alley but the guards, right?
I frowned. I seemed to remember someone else towards the end. A husky voice that came from the dark. Eyes of crimson and gold.
“Well,” Milo leaned back, satisfied with whatever I had to tell them. “That settles is then. Hazel, meet your new shopkeep.”
“What?” I frowned. It had not been what I was expecting by any means, and the look of revenge that I thought I had seen lingering within Milo’s eyes was all but replaced by keen amusement once more.
“You need help,” he explained. “Hazel needs help. It’s a win-win situation.”
“Milo, stop,” Hazel said tiredly. She had taken in the entirety of the story, of the charade that had played out since Milo walked in the back door, in relative silence.
“Am I wrong?”
When she ignored him he took no offense. It looked as if it were an action he was used to.
When Hazel turned back to me, her face was soft and kind. “You must have so many questions,” she said. “But despite being healed outwardly, you are still healing on the inside. I’m afraid you are going to be exhausted for a bit. Before you get some more rest, is there anything we can help clear up for you?”
“Bed?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to move you before, but I think you could manage it now.” Her eyes ticked towards the spiral staircase. If I was meant to go up there, I didn’t know if I would make it. “I have a few spare rooms up top.”
[[I do have a few questions about the Night Market]]
[[Am I in hiding?]]
[[So you’re not going to throw me back to the guard?]]<</if>>
I averted my eyes, frantically trying to figure a way out of this. The clang of the cage shutting and the lock clicking in place was still one I could hear. His amber eyes had been full of intrigue, the likes of which lurked beneath anger. But I had run. Tossing him a quick apology, I had then run. Given the outcome, I was wondering if it would have been better to stay with him after all.
“So, darlin’. What’s your story then?” I blinked in surprise. Did he…? No. There was no possible way he didn’t remember who I was. Sand still stained my clothes.
“My story?”
“Yeah. How did you get here?” He tilted his head, amusement flickering behind his eyes. Pushing his hands in his pockets, he ambled towards me, the corner of his mouth quirking as he silently asked the question, which one of us would balk first.
[[Lie and see how far he will let you take it]]
[[How did you get out?]]
[[I really am sorry for what I did]]
“How did you even get out?” I had spun the cogs again upon locking him in. I wanted nothing to do with the individuals on that beach and I certainly didn’t want to give them a chance to drag me back to the cells.
He looked at me, bemused. “You serious?”
Hazel, still sitting cross legged on the table, looked back and forth between the two of us. “You two know each other? Milo, you didn’t say anything.”
Crossing his arms, he leaned against the counter, a smile still firmly in place. Either he was going to let the moment pass or was going to make me suffer before calling the Velvet Guard.
“$name, wasn’t it?” He tapped his head. “I got a good memory. I’m also, good with locks. Something I am pretty sure I told you.”
Tension coiled across my shoulders. A thief with a mess of keys. He probably had gotten himself out before I had even entered the saloon.
“$name here was in the pens down at the beach,” Milo directed his words towards Hazel but kept his eyes on me. “Locked me in them and everything.”
[[Lie and see how far he will let you take it]]
[[How did you get out?]]
[[I really am sorry for what I did]]
Swallowing, I took a deep breath. Lying here, boxed in and hurt, I wondered if this was the end for me. Part of me knew I should be proud with how far I made it. The other part of me felt a yawning pit of defeat that had a range of emotions bubbling to the surface.
“I wasn’t lying,” I said, locking eyes with him. “I really was sorry for what I did.”
“And what is it you did?” He asked, walking forward to kneel before me. Hazel was keeping quiet, observing the two of us with a confused expression tight on her lips.
“Locked you in the cage and ran.”
At that, Hazel’s eyes went wide. “What?”
Milo laughed. It was deep and throaty and sent a chill down my spine. “This is the one that put me in the pens,” he told Hazel. “Looks like our paths cross again, darlin.” he smiled. “Can’t get rid of me. Now, my suggestion is to maybe fill in some blanks about how you got in those pens to begin with, hm? What do you say? Story time?”
[[Lie and see how far he will let you take it]]
[[How did you get out?]]
[[I really am sorry for what I did]]
“I was on the beach last night,” I began. “I was curious since there seemed to be such a big crowd. I wasn’t looking to buy anyone but, I don’t know,” I shrugged in what I hoped looked like a convincing manner. The skin at my side tugged, but thankfully didn’t hurt. Just felt a tad bit uncomfortable. “I had never been down to the bail block before. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
Picking at the blanket in my lap, I directed my conversation towards Hazel, though I could feel the intent stare coming from Milo.
“I went to go head home and wanted to take the alleys behind the saloons. It was a nice night, and I was still wanting to explore after I had seen all there was to see down at the beach. Someone must have jumped me from behind. Stabbed me. Took my stuff.” I had nothing on me, so I figured that might help my story a bit.
Hazel nodded, looking as if she believed me. I felt a small coil unraveling at that. At least she would be on my side.
“And then what?” Milo asked. “A member of the Velvet Guard just carried you on over here?”
“I guess so.”
“Uh huh.”
The room was quiet for a moment. I could hear some shuffling coming from where Milo stood. There was a soft ticking noise somewhere near the front door where a closed sign hung. Outside the windows, it still looked like a bleak night.
When Milo kneeled in front of me, I startled. I hadn't heard him move closer.
“Try again,” he said. While his hands hung loose between his legs and his face was still set in a friendly smile, there was something about his words that chilled me.
[[Please don't send me back to the guard]]
[[I'm not ashamed of what I did]]
[[You first]]
My heart thudded against my chest at the thought of that damp cell again. “Please don’t send me back there.” I could hear the tremor in my voice and felt nausea roll in my stomach. My side ached at the thought. If I went back in this condition, I doubted I’d be able to run again.
“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Milo said. I couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t answer my plea. “Why are you really here?”
Ticking my eyes to Hazel’s, I felt a small amount of relief. There was a heated fire behind Milo’s eyes and a tension within his shoulders. Hazel offered nothing but pure support, her soft green-brown eyes turned in such a way that made me feel somewhat at ease.
“I don’t exactly know,” I said. “I woke up in an alleyway somewhere and a bunch of men, your Velvet Guard, were demanding papers from me. I of course didn’t have any, and didn’t even know what those were. So they threw me in a jail cell where later, the Warden of this place, tossed me in a cell on the beach. Where I… met you…” I said slowly.
“And locked me inside a pen.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. No. It was ingenious. Really, it was.” His words were tinged with vengeance, and I knew that the last thing I wanted to do was sit alone in a room with this man right now.
“How did you get stabbed?” Hazel asked.
“I ran into some more guards. Tried to lie and they caught me in it. They then chased me down an alley and… well, then all of this.” I gestured around me. They knew more of what followed than I did. Only, I couldn’t quite figure out why I was taken to Hazel’s. There had been no one else in the alley but the guards, right?
I frowned. I seemed to remember someone else towards the end. A husky voice that came from the dark. Eyes of crimson and gold.
“Well,” Milo leaned back, satisfied with whatever I had to tell them. “That settles is then. Hazel, meet your new shopkeep.”
“What?” I frowned. It had not been what I was expecting by any means, and the look of revenge that I thought I had seen lingering within Milo’s eyes was all but replaced by keen amusement once more.
“You need help,” he explained. “Hazel needs help. It’s a win-win situation.”
“Milo, stop,” Hazel said tiredly. She had taken in the entirety of the story, of the charade that had played out since Milo walked in the back door, in relative silence.
“Am I wrong?”
When she ignored him he took no offense. It looked as if it were an action he was used to.
When Hazel turned back to me, her face was soft and kind. “You must have so many questions,” she said. “But despite being healed outwardly, you are still healing on the inside. I’m afraid you are going to be exhausted for a bit. Before you get some more rest, is there anything we can help clear up for you?”
“Bed?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to move you before, but I think you could manage it now.” Her eyes ticked towards the spiral staircase. If I was meant to go up there, I didn’t know if I would make it. “I have a few spare rooms up top.”
[[I do have a few questions about the Night Market]]
[[Am I in hiding?]]
[[So you’re not going to throw me back to the guard?]]
My heart thudded against my chest at the thought of getting dragged back to that cell. No matter what the next few minutes brought, I stood by what I did. I stood by it all. The horrors of that beach had been pressing in on me from every side and I wasn’t going to sit and wait for someone to save me.
“I woke up in an alleyway somewhere and a bunch of men, your Velvet Guard, were demanding papers from me. I of course didn’t have any, and didn’t even know what those were. So they threw me in a jail cell where later, the Warden of this market, tossed me in a cell on the beach. Where I… met you…” I said slowly.
“And locked me inside a pen.”
My lips pursed but I said nothing. If it was the one thing that ensured my escape, I knew I would do it a dozen times over.
“How did you get stabbed?” Hazel asked.
“I ran into some more guards. Tried to lie and they caught me in it. They then chased me down an alley and… well, then all of this.” I gestured around me. They knew more of what followed than I did. Only, I couldn’t quite figure out why I was taken to Hazel’s. There had been no one else in the alley but the guards, right?
I frowned. I seemed to remember someone else towards the end. A husky voice that came from the dark. Eyes of crimson and gold.
“Well,” Milo leaned back, satisfied with whatever I had to tell them. “That settles is then. Hazel, meet your new shopkeep.”
“What?” I frowned. It had not been what I was expecting by any means, and the look of revenge that I thought I had seen lingering within Milo’s eyes was all but replaced by keen amusement once more.
“You need help,” he explained. “Hazel needs help. It’s a win-win situation.”
“Milo, stop,” Hazel said tiredly. She had taken in the entirety of the story, of the charade that had played out since Milo walked in the back door, in relative silence.
“Am I wrong?”
When she ignored him he took no offense. It looked as if it were an action he was used to.
When Hazel turned back to me, her face was soft and kind. “You must have so many questions,” she said. “But despite being healed outwardly, you are still healing on the inside. I’m afraid you are going to be exhausted for a bit. Before you get some more rest, is there anything we can help clear up for you?”
“Bed?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to move you before, but I think you could manage it now.” Her eyes ticked towards the spiral staircase. If I was meant to go up there, I didn’t know if I would make it. “I have a few spare rooms up top.”
[[I do have a few questions about the Night Market]]
[[Am I in hiding?]]
[[So you’re not going to throw me back to the guard?]]
Leaning forward, I matched his persona. My hands were loose in my lap, my face just as challenging. “You first.” If he wanted to out me, then he could be the one to do it. I was holding to this lie.
The grin that spread across him was backed only by the candlelight of the room. It made his eyes dance with curiosity as he sat back on his haunches, looking me over, impressed by what he saw.
“Sounds like they’re telling the truth to me,” Milo stated, leaving out the little detail of our prior meeting. If Hazel noted the looks we exchanged, she didn’t care enough to comment. Instead, she looked far more concerned with how I had run from the beach and wound up at her door, broken and bloody.
“I don’t like that the Velvet Guard did this. They’re getting worse,” she said.
Milo shrugged. “They’ve always been meatheads with ugly coats.” Seemingly satisfied with what I said, Milo let the anger I had seen lingering, drop from his eyes. “That settles is then. Hazel, meet your new shopkeep.”
“What?” I frowned. It had not been what I was expecting by any means, and the look of revenge that I thought I had seen lingering within Milo’s eyes was all but replaced by keen amusement once more.
“You need help,” he explained. “Hazel needs help. It’s a win-win situation.”
“Milo, stop,” Hazel said tiredly. She had taken in the entirety of the story, of the charade that had played out since Milo walked in the back door, in relative silence.
“Am I wrong?”
When she ignored him he took no offense. It looked as if it were an action he was used to.
When Hazel turned back to me, her face was soft and kind. “You must have so many questions,” she said. “But despite being healed outwardly, you are still healing on the inside. I’m afraid you are going to be exhausted for a bit. Before you get some more rest, is there anything we can help clear up for you?”
“Bed?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to move you before, but I think you could manage it now.” Her eyes ticked towards the spiral staircase. If I was meant to go up there, I didn’t know if I would make it. “I have a few spare rooms up top.”
[[I do have a few questions about the Night Market]]
[[Am I in hiding?]]
[[So you’re not going to throw me back to the guard?]]
“I should have just stayed with you,” I told the man, feeling the truth of it settle against me. Fear had been what shut the cage on him. I could have died because of it.
“Yeah,” Milo agreed. “You probably should have. Still not answering my question though on just what exactly you are.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Look, I don’t have my memories. I don’t know how I got here. I just woke up in an alley and got arrested for not having some papers. And the laws you have within this market for some reason deemed that enough to toss me in a cage.”
He didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he traced the outline of my prone body, searching me for some sort of truth that I wasn’t giving. The Warden had done the same thing.
“How did you get stabbed?” Hazel asked.
“I ran into some more guards. Tried to lie and they caught me in it. They then chased me down an alley and… well, then all of this.” I gestured around me. They knew more of what followed than I did. Only, I couldn’t quite figure out why I was taken to Hazel’s. There had been no one else in the alley but the guards, right?
I frowned. I seemed to remember someone else towards the end. A husky voice that came from the dark. Eyes of crimson and gold.
“Well,” Milo leaned back, satisfied with whatever I had to tell them. “That settles is then. Hazel, meet your new shopkeep.”
“What?” I frowned. It had not been what I was expecting by any means, and the look of revenge that I thought I had seen lingering within Milo’s eyes was all but replaced by keen amusement once more.
“You need help,” he explained. “Hazel needs help. It’s a win-win situation.”
“Milo, stop,” Hazel said tiredly. She had taken in the entirety of the story, of the charade that had played out since Milo walked in the back door, in relative silence.
“Am I wrong?”
When she ignored him he took no offense. It looked as if it were an action he was used to.
When Hazel turned back to me, her face was soft and kind. “You must have so many questions,” she said. “But despite being healed outwardly, you are still healing on the inside. I’m afraid you are going to be exhausted for a bit. Before you get some more rest, is there anything we can help clear up for you?”
“Bed?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to move you before, but I think you could manage it now.” Her eyes ticked towards the spiral staircase. If I was meant to go up there, I didn’t know if I would make it. “I have a few spare rooms up top.”
[[I do have a few questions about the Night Market]]
[[Am I in hiding?]]
[[So you’re not going to throw me back to the guard?]]
I could feel the tendrils of exhaustion course through me. Hazel was right. Despite my wound looking like nothing more than an old scar, my insides felt tender and the small amount of conversation I had partaken in, had already taxed me further than I had anticipated.
But I didn’t want to go to sleep without making some amount of progress in trying to discern what was actually going on. The amount of confusion that surrounded my situation was not a comfortable state to sit in.
“I have a few questions,” I said after a moment. Hazel continued to sit in front of me, while Milo had gotten up to pace nearby. “The first one being, where exactly am I? I know a few things, but I don’t think it really is making much sense.”
Milo, hands clasped behind his back, regarded me carefully before speaking. “The Night Market is as it sounds,” Milo started. “A market cast forever in a sleepless night. Providing the goods and wares of only your wildest dreams.”
I blinked at him, feeling my head swim a bit at the explanation.
“It is a city at the center of each reality out there,” Hazel said softly, trying to explain things a bit better. “Think of the Night Market as a nexus point within every reality and world that is out there. Everything is connected, and the Night Market just so happens to be that point of connection.”
I blinked at the two of them. If I had my memories, I was almost certain it would sound crazy. It had to. But instead, it sunk into my empty thoughts, my mind desperate to fill itself with absolutely anything.
“Oh, hey, you’re not running in fear yet. That’s a good sign.” Milo grinned, his cheeks creasing with laugh lines. “Though I suppose given your state, you won’t be able to do much running for a bit.”
“Give it about a day,” Hazel smiled. I couldn’t help but notice the ease between the two of them. I wondered if they were together or just good friends. The anticipation of each other's reactions spoke of more than mere acquaintances.
“Now,” Hazel continued. “Given what you have said, I suspect you came through a gate. Each world or reality has a gate assigned to it. Though, it is not one that is visible to most, and you do have to be invited to come here.”
“So I was invited?” I asked.
Milo crossed his arms in front of him, tilting his head to the side. “That’s the thing. If you were invited, you’d have papers. Since you were arrested without them, I’m going to say no. Which means, you managed to wander through a gate that you shouldn’t have even been able to see. Bit curious, really.”
[[So I just need to find my gate then?|Solo gate]]
[[Who would invite me?]]
[[There must have been a mistake|Solo mistake]]I could feel the tendrils of exhaustion course through me. Hazel was right. Despite my wound looking like nothing more than an old scar, my insides felt tender and the small amount of conversation I had partaken in, had already taxed me further than I had anticipated.
“Am I supposed to be in hiding?” I asked. “Are you two hiding me?” I watched the look that they exchanged. It was nothing more than a brief tick of their gaze, but I caught it all the same.
“Yes and no,” Hazel said. “People escape from the bail block all the time. It isn’t uncommon, really. But people like you, well… It might be better if we explain a few other things to you first.”
I nodded, feeling a bit uneasy about their hesitation.
Milo, hands clasped behind his back, regarded me carefully before speaking. “The Night Market is as it sounds,” Milo started. “A market cast forever in a sleepless night. Providing the goods and wares of only your wildest dreams.”
I blinked at him, feeling my head swim a bit at the explanation.
“It is a city at the center of each reality out there,” Hazel said softly, trying to explain things a bit better. “Think of the Night Market as a nexus point within every reality and world that is out there. Everything is connected, and the Night Market just so happens to be that point of connection.”
I blinked at the two of them. If I had my memories, I was almost certain it would sound crazy. It had to. But instead, it sunk into my empty thoughts, my mind desperate to fill itself with absolutely anything.
“Oh, hey, you’re not running in fear yet. That’s a good sign.” Milo grinned, his cheeks creasing with laugh lines. “Though I suppose given your state, you won’t be able to do much running for a bit.”
“Give it about a day,” Hazel smiled. I couldn’t help but notice the ease between the two of them. I wondered if they were together or just good friends. The anticipation of each other's reactions spoke of more than mere acquaintances.
“Now,” Hazel continued. “Given what you have said, I suspect you came through a gate. Each world or reality has a gate assigned to it. Though, it is not one that is visible to most, and you do have to be invited to come here.”
“So I was invited?” I asked.
Milo crossed his arms in front of him, tilting his head to the side. “That’s the thing. If you were invited, you’d have papers. Since you were arrested without them, I’m going to say no. Which means, you managed to wander through a gate that you shouldn’t have even been able to see. Bit curious, really.”
[[So I just need to find my gate then?|Solo gate]]
[[Who would invite me?]]
[[There must have been a mistake|Solo mistake]]I could feel the tendrils of exhaustion course through me. Hazel was right. Despite my wound looking like nothing more than an old scar, my insides felt tender and the small amount of conversation I had partaken in, had already taxed me further than I had anticipated.
“So, I’m safe, then?” I was unsure if their help meant that I could finally relax.
“For now,” Milo intoned.
Hazel fidgeted with her skirts, her knuckles knocking at the small bottles and chains she had attached at her hip. “You’re as safe as anyone in your predicament is. But I’m afraid that there are going to be people who are curious about your presence in the Night Market. You see…” she sighed, trailing off and looking towards Milo for help. “Maybe we should explain some things to you first?”
Milo, hands clasped behind his back, regarded me carefully before speaking. “The Night Market is as it sounds,” Milo started. “A market cast forever in a sleepless night. Providing the goods and wares of only your wildest dreams.”
I blinked at him, feeling my head swim a bit at the explanation.
“It is a city at the center of each reality out there,” Hazel said softly, trying to explain things a bit better. “Think of the Night Market as a nexus point within every reality and world that is out there. Everything is connected, and the Night Market just so happens to be that point of connection.”
I blinked at the two of them. If I had my memories, I was almost certain it would sound crazy. It had to. But instead, it sunk into my empty thoughts, my mind desperate to fill itself with absolutely anything.
“Oh, hey, you’re not running in fear yet. That’s a good sign.” Milo grinned, his cheeks creasing with laugh lines. “Though I suppose given your state, you won’t be able to do much running for a bit.”
“Give it about a day,” Hazel smiled. I couldn’t help but notice the ease between the two of them. I wondered if they were together or just good friends. The anticipation of each other's reactions spoke of more than mere acquaintances.
“Now,” Hazel continued. “Given what you have said, I suspect you came through a gate. Each world or reality has a gate assigned to it. Though, it is not one that is visible to most, and you do have to be invited to come here.”
“So I was invited?” I asked.
Milo crossed his arms in front of him, tilting his head to the side. “That’s the thing. If you were invited, you’d have papers. Since you were arrested without them, I’m going to say no. Which means, you managed to wander through a gate that you shouldn’t have even been able to see. Bit curious, really.”
[[So I just need to find my gate then?|Solo gate]]
[[Who would invite me?]]
[[There must have been a mistake|Solo mistake]]I could feel my head beginning to swim again. Reminiscent of the first confusing hours I had spent within the cells. “Okay, so if I want to get home, I would need to go back through my gate?” I said slowly, as if the longer I drew out my words, the more they would be able to make sense to me.
“Not exactly,” Milo said. “You see, gates are a bit finicky. While we describe them as gates, they can be just about anything. A pebble in a river, a leaf on a tree. The wandering man deep within a creepy alley. There’s no real telling unless you know what you’re looking for.”
I blinked at him, my mind slow to catch up. The words did not seem to make any sense no matter how I strung them together in my head.
Leaning forward, he looked at me from beneath his lashes, studying my face. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”
“No.”
“Then there’s the problem.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Hazel assured. “Not a lot of people know what they’re looking for. The secrecy was designed within these gates for a reason. With the Night Market being connected to all living worlds, there cannot be a constant flow of traffic here and there. There had to be some order to it all.”
“And that order came in the form of hiding the gates?” I asked.
“Well… no,” she said.
Milo sighed. “Alright, let me give you the spiel. There is a gate per every reality. Which, if you think about it, means there are infinite gates. Now, if you were invited into the Night Market, of course you’d know what your home world gate is. I’d even argue, if you managed to sneak in, you could look back and have a pretty good idea of which gate you went through. But for reasons unknown, a lot of you gate skippers, have had their memories wiped. So, without the memories, no knowledge of your gate. Without the knowledge of your gate, no way home.”
[[I felt my heart drop, tears pricking my eyes|solo route tears]]
[[I felt a wild sense of determination come over me. I would not let the Night Market win|solo route determined]]
[[All I felt over this revelation was utter exhaustion.|solo route exhaustion]]Slowly, I shook my head. Something was not adding up, specifically when it had to do with me and my arrival here within the Night Market. “Who would even invite me here? I was left alone in an alley. Not greeted by someone welcoming me.”
Milo considered me carefully, as if searching for that exact same answer. Or maybe he was trying to figure out if my lack of memory was the key to something. “You’re assuming you were invited,” he said.
“So I could have just stumbled through a gate?”
He shrugged a little, “Weirder things have happened. You see, gates are a bit finicky. While we describe them as gates, they can be just about anything. A pebble in a river, a leaf on a tree. The wandering man deep within a creepy alley. There’s no real telling unless you know what you’re looking for.”
“I don’t have my memory. There’s no way to know what I’m looking for.”
“Don’t feel bad,” Hazel assured. “Not a lot of people know what they’re looking for. The secrecy was designed within these gates for a reason. With the Night Market being connected to all living worlds, there cannot be a constant flow of traffic here and there. There had to be some order to it all.”
“And that order came in the form of hiding the gates?” I asked.
“Well… no,” she said.
Milo sighed. “Alright, let me give you the spiel. There is a gate per every reality. Which, if you think about it, means there are infinite gates. Now, if you were invited into the Night Market, of course you’d know what your home world gate is. I’d even argue, if you managed to sneak in, you could look back and have a pretty good idea of which gate you went through. But for reasons unknown, a lot of you gate skippers, have had their memories wiped. So, without the memories, no knowledge of your gate. Without the knowledge of your gate, no way home.”
[[I felt my heart drop, tears pricking my eyes|solo route tears]]
[[I felt a wild sense of determination come over me. I would not let the Night Market win|solo route determined]]
[[All I felt over this revelation was utter exhaustion.|solo route exhaustion]]Slowly, I shook my head. Something was not adding up, specifically when it had to do with me and my arrival here within the Night Market. “There must have been a mistake,” I said. “There’s nothing special about me. I wouldn’t have been invited to a place like this.”
“How would you know?” Milo asked. I fell short. It was a fair question. The only memory I had was a well-worn blanket and the knowledge that I had a grandmother out there. I wondered if she was missing me. I wondered if the memory was even mine.
“Look, of course there could be a possibility that you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. But operating under that assumption also gets us nowhere.”
He was right. I knew he was right. Lifting my gaze, I took a deep breath. “So what do we do?”
Gates are a bit finicky,” he explained. “While we describe them as gates, they can be just about anything. A pebble in a river, a leaf on a tree. The wandering man deep within a creepy alley. There’s no real telling unless you know what you’re looking for.”
“But I have no memories prior to being here, so I have no way of even knowing what I’m looking for,” I said.
“Don’t feel bad,” Hazel assured. “Not a lot of people know what they’re looking for. The secrecy was designed within these gates for a reason. With the Night Market being connected to all living worlds, there cannot be a constant flow of traffic here and there. There had to be some order to it all.”
“And that order came in the form of hiding the gates?” I asked.
“Well… no,” she said.
Milo sighed. “Alright, let me give you the spiel. There is a gate per every reality. Which, if you think about it, means there are infinite gates. Now, if you were invited into the Night Market, of course you’d know what your home world gate is. I’d even argue, if you managed to sneak in, you could look back and have a pretty good idea of which gate you went through. But for reasons unknown, a lot of you gate skippers, have had their memories wiped. So, without the memories, no knowledge of your gate. Without the knowledge of your gate, no way home.”
[[I felt my heart drop, tears pricking my eyes|solo route tears]]
[[I felt a wild sense of determination come over me. I would not let the Night Market win|solo route determined]]
[[All I felt over this revelation was utter exhaustion.|solo route exhaustion]]I shook my head, refusing to believe that. “No. I… there has to be a way.”
“There’s not,” Milo said. “I’m afraid you are kind of shit out of luck, darlin’. Gates are the bane of this world's existence, and if you don’t have knowledge of yours, the likelihood of you finding it again is less than zero.”
I could feel myself panicking. This man was telling me there was no hope. No way home. The brief impressions I had of what my life could have been were slipping through my fingers like sand. The very idea sent my arms wrapping around my middle as I struggled not to bend in two.
“That’s not entirely true,” Hazel whispered. She was looking at Milo with a hesitancy that clearly could be felt within the room. I latched onto it.
“Please. If you know anything I…”
“It’s a dead end,” Milo interrupted.
“We don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
Ignoring him, she turned towards me. “The Gatekeeper. They are said to be one of the nine Barons that controls all the gates here within the Night Market. They can see each entrance and can match you to the one you belong to.”
“Then let me talk to them,” I said desperately. If anyone was able to help me, I had to take it.
Hazel’s face fell at that. “That’s the problem. No one has seen them in about ten years.”
“Hence,” Milo said, “why it is a dead end.”
I felt myself deflate. It felt hopeless. I had escaped the cages just to be stabbed, my life nothing more than an inconvenience somewhere within the alley. Short of wandering the market and hoping something jogged my memories, I was at a loss.
“Hey, oh, no. Don’t cry.” I felt warm arms wrap around me as Hazel moved to my side holding me close. “Don’t you dare give up hope, okay? I’m not in the business of losing hope.”
“She’s in the business of herbs,” Milo quipped.
“Listen, if there is a way to find your gate, I will absolutely help you. Please. You have to understand. This is what we do, after all.”
I looked up. “You get people back through their gates?”
“We try.”
“How many have you successfully gotten home?” When Hazel didn’t answer, I felt my heart plummet.
[[Sleep actually sounds nice]]
[[I'm not sure I can sleep after this]]
[[Are you sure it's alright that I stay?]]I shook my head, refusing to believe that. I was not going to let this place take me without a fight. It had already done so much to me, and I wasn’t going to sit back and wait for the world to decide my future. “No. There’s a way to get out of here,” I said. “There has to be.”
“Gates are the bane of this world's existence,” Milo countered. “If you don’t have knowledge of yours, the likelihood of you finding it again is less than zero.”
From by my side, Hazel stiffened. “That’s not entirely true.” She was looking at Milo with a hesitancy that clearly could be felt within the room. I latched onto it.
“What is it?” I knew my voice was bordering on desperation, but I need something to cling to if I was going to find a way out of here.
“It’s a dead end,” Milo interrupted.
“We don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
Ignoring him, she turned towards me. “The Gatekeeper. They are said to be one of the nine barons that controls all the gates here within the Night Market. They can see each entrance and exit and can match you to the one you belong to.”
“Then let me talk to them,” I said. It was a lead. That’s all I needed. Just one little lead.
Hazel’s face fell at that. “That’s the problem. No one has seen them in about ten years.”
“Hence,” Milo said, “why it is a dead end.”
I slumped back in my seat, trying to puzzle out what to do next. There had to be something we were missing. A key bit of information that would at the very least give me a direction to begin searching in. But the more I thought about what they were saying, the more the words rattled in my head.
[[Sleep actually sounds nice]]
[[I'm not sure I can sleep after this]]
[[Are you sure it's alright that I stay?]]Bone numbing exhaustion hit me as I slumped back in my chair, suddenly at a loss for what to say or even do.
“Sorry, darlin’,” Milo said. “Gates are the bane of this world's existence. If you don’t have knowledge of yours, the likelihood of you finding it again is less than zero.” He did genuinely sound sorry, though I doubted after tonight he would give me a second thought. For all I knew, I was just another lost soul in a long line of memory wiped gate crashers.
From by my side, Hazel stiffened. “That’s not entirely true.” She was looking at Milo with a hesitancy that clearly could be felt within the room. I latched onto it.
I turned to her tiredly. “What is it?”
“It’s a dead end,” Milo interrupted.
“We don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
Ignoring him, she turned towards me. “The Gatekeeper. They are said to be one of the nine barons that controls all the gates here within the Night Market. They can see each entrance and exit and can match you to the one you belong to.”
“Then let me talk to them,” I said. Why wasn’t this the first thing that was mentioned?
Hazel’s face fell at that. “That’s the problem. No one has seen them in about ten years.”
“Hence,” Milo said, “why it is a dead end.”
Closing my eyes, I felt the weight of fatigue cross over me. It was like a warm blanket. One that was coaxing me into oblivion for at least a small while.
“So what now?” I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice.
“You rest,” Hazel said quietly. “You rest and recover.”
I could hear Milo shuffling about, gathering a few things, the jangling of his keys echoed around the room.
“And what about working for you?” I asked. “Is that required to stay here?”
Hazel shook her head. “I’m going to give you a roof over your head and some food until you can get on your feet. That’s what I do. Milo and I help people in your situation not because we expect anything in return, but because it is the right thing to do.”
When I looked over towards Milo, he was staring at Hazel expressionless, his eyes blank and his jaw tight. I didn’t find it my place to comment and as I shifted a little, sitting up with my feet flat on the ground, I could feel the ache in my side begin to grow.
“Sleep,” Hazel encouraged. “No more questions.”
[[Sleep actually sounds nice]]
[[I'm not sure I can sleep after this]]
[[Are you sure it's alright that I stay?]]
Sleep. Despite having awoken not even an hour prior, I already felt the desire to close my eyes and slip into oblivion, calling out to me.
“Sleep sounds nice,” I admitted to her.
There was a softness to Hazel as she listened to my words. Slipping a shoulder under my arm, she helped me stand, looking up at me through the thick of her lashes. “I promise you,” she said, ushering me forward. “Everything is going to look much better after a long rest.”
I stared at her, fighting the urge to just fall against her and ask to just sleep down here instead of daring to attempt the stairs.
“Come on,” she beckoned, “let's get you in a real bed. It’ll do you more good than this lumpy couch ever could.” That, I could not disagree with. Life had tumbled into something fast and confusing, and I had been given little time to think about just what exactly that would not mean for me.
“Oh!” Hazel looked around her shop, pausing as we made our way to the spiral staircase. “Um, this is my shop, in case you hadn’t figured that out yet.”
I heard Milo snort from where he was going through a jar of what looked like candy off to the side. A big fluffy grey cat was stalking him, though I didn’t think he had seen it just yet.
“I’m an herbalist,” she was saying. I only barely heard her, too relieved as she took me past the wrought iron staircase and to an unassuming door tucked in the back next to a counter filled with teapots. “Which is probably why you were brought here by that guard.”
I frowned. “So it was a guard that ended up saving me.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Though given your story, I’m not sure why. Maybe they felt guilty?”
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]Sleep. Despite having awoken not even an hour prior, I already felt the desire to close my eyes and slip into oblivion, calling out to me. But with everything I had just learned. With thoughts of secret gates and gatekeepers, with the lack of memories and what that now meant for me, how was I supposed to sleep?
"After the kind of day I had, I'm not sure I can sleep," I confessed.
"Given that the tonics I have you on are going to make you pass out, you're not going to have much of a choice in that." Hazel gave me a sympathetic look. At least I knew that she had slipped me something for the pain. That my body wasn't just somehow magically healing.
"Better get upstairs then." Standing from the table, I began to sway.
“Come on,” she beckoned, “let's get you in a real bed. It’ll do you more good than this lumpy couch ever could.” That, I could not disagree with. Life had tumbled into something fast and confusing, and I had been given little time to think about just what exactly that would not mean for me.
“Oh!” Hazel looked around her shop, pausing as we made our way to the spiral staircase. “Um, this is my shop, in case you hadn’t figured that out yet.”
I heard Milo snort from where he was going through a jar of what looked like candy off to the side. A big fluffy grey cat was stalking him, though I didn’t think he had seen it just yet.
“I’m an herbalist,” she was saying. I only barely heard her, too relieved as she took me past the wrought iron staircase and to an unassuming door tucked in the back next to a counter filled with teapots. “Which is probably why you were brought here by that guard.”
I frowned. “So it was a guard that ended up saving me.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Though given your story, I’m not sure why. Maybe they felt guilty?”
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]While sleep sounded like the only thing I wanted at the moment, I couldn’t help but look at the woman before me. I didn’t know her. She didn’t know me. Our meeting had been not even twenty minutes ago and yet she was ready to escort me upstairs to my own room and offer me the food that she had.
“Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly. “I know what the Warden said but–”
“Don’t you worry about what the Warden said. This is what I’m saying. I want to help you. I would really appreciate it if you would let me.”
I felt too exhausted to argue with her. Every bone in my body was beginning to hurt and the shop itself was blurring with exhaustion.
“Come on,” she beckoned, “let's get you in a real bed. It’ll do you more good than this lumpy couch ever could.” That, I could not disagree with. Life had tumbled into something fast and confusing, and I had been given little time to think about just what exactly that would not mean for me.
“Oh!” Hazel looked around her shop, pausing as we made our way to the spiral staircase. “Um, this is my shop, in case you hadn’t figured that out yet.”
I heard Milo snort from where he was going through a jar of what looked like candy off to the side. A big fluffy grey cat was stalking him, though I didn’t think he had seen it just yet.
“I’m an herbalist,” she was saying. I only barely heard her, too relieved as she took me past the wrought iron staircase and to an unassuming door tucked in the back next to a counter filled with teapots. “Which is probably why you were brought here by that guard.”
I frowned. “So it was a guard that ended up saving me.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Though given your story, I’m not sure why. Maybe they felt guilty?”
[[I was feeling nothing but exhaustion now]]
[[I was still feeling scared and wondered when my emotions would get the best of me]]
[[Anger still bubbled in me over the day's events, and I was still slightly on edge despite the exhaustion]]<img src="images/Ch 2.png"
height="300" width="900">
The lights up above swayed amber and gold. They hung heavy, strung together on thick wire cords that stretched across the long expanse of canvas covered stalls. Plumes of steam drifted upwards, curling around the paper of each heavy light before dissipating into the endless night up above. High walls of oil-stained flagstone rose behind each rickety wooden stall, boxing everyone in with one long line. The setup trapped the heady scent of crackling meat and spices, causing them to linger around the bustling bodies of shoppers and eaters. I stared at it all with wide eyes, blinking at the stark difference of the city street stretching before me and the coastal expanse I had been trapped within.
A cracked cobblestone path was at my feet, containing squished together stalls with sweaty workers shouting back and forth at each other as they served whoever sat on the rickety stools balanced on the ground. The alleyway was active. It was vibrant and spilling with life. Horned heads ducked down so as not to catch the lanterns while shorter creatures, with the ghosts of wings, sunk between people's feet. My eyes could barely take it all in.
I needed to find safety. Despite my escape, I could not continue to wander the market with no plan. I was covered in sand and sea, and I doubted it took much thought to realize where I had come from. I must have looked an absolute mess and while my presence hadn’t gained any attention yet, it clearly was only a matter of time.
Scanning the crowd, I looked around for the least threatening individual I could find. Someone I could be certain wasn’t going to ask a ton of question. The warming scene of something caramelized and nutty reached me first though, dragging my eyes towards a wooden stall with a rough finish, where a set of dark brown eyes stared directly at me.
I froze in the middle of the street, the surrounding crowds forced to change direction and shift out of my way. The woman did not blink, nor did she move from behind the dilapidated stall with the copper vats floating behind her. She had russet skin and a kerchief tied around her head to keep her hair from her eyes. She was older but looked at me with a sharp gaze. Without blinking, she poured a cup of dark, almost black liquid and set it down on a long board that was stained a deep brown.
Hesitantly, I walked towards her.
[[Next|Chapter Two Gabriel 2]]
<<set $beginningroute to "solo">>
<<set $route to "nofleshpit">>I took another deep drink of my kafe and clutched the clay mug tight. I wasn’t ready to slip off into the unknown yet. My feet ached and there was a twinge in my lower back. Gained from any of the numerous escapes that I attempted tonight. “And this Hazel Albright is safe? I don't need to worry about the guard,” I asked.
“You are going to go stay with someone you know nothing about. I don't know how safe you want."
“I…”
Neve waved me off before I could stutter over my own words. “I get it. You’re not the first muck covered bag that’s walked out of that alley. You’re safe, for now. The guard aren’t loyal customers of mine, so I’m not inclined to help them out.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything more.
“As for the Albright’s, they’re a decent sort, I guess.” Never sniffed a little, narrowing her eyes at the paste. Grabbing a small wooden spoon, she scooped the contents up. It sat within the basin like sludge. “The mother was down right terrible, but she’s dead now, so we don’t have to worry about that. The brother was a menace, but I haven’t seen him around for years. Hazel’s alright. Just got a bad batch of family, I think.”
Dipping the spoon into a steaming jar of water, she swirled it around. Immediately, my surrounding was filled with floral notes and dark chocolate.
“So she’s safe?”
“Yeah. She’s safe.”
[[Next|Thank you. I'll be on my way]]Taking my first bite I struggled not to moan. The stew was thick and warming and did wonders to try and chase away the horrors of the beach. It didn’t help that I was nearly, not knowing when the last time I ate even was.
“Take it slow,” Hazel said soothingly. “You don’t want to make yourself sick.”
I tried to slow down, but knew I was doing a poor job of it. The look I must have presented was slightly embarrassing.
<<if $cagemilo == "true">> "I've already explained to Hazel that you locked me in a cage and left me for dead." I nearly chocked on my food, turning to look at Hazel. She looked more amused than anything else.
"Nothing you probably didn't deserve," she told him.
Swallowing, I looked at him hesitantly. "I did apologize."
"And then ran," he mused.
"How did you get out?"
"How did the man that picks locks for a living get out? I don't know. Odd, that." The keys on his belt jangled mockingly. He had probably broken out of the cage before I even entered the saloon.
"Ignore him," Hazel said. "You made it here and that's what matters. Milo thought you were lost to the market." <<elseif $cagemilo == "false">>"I already let Hazel know that you had a daring escape from the cages, running through the market, losing me in the process."
"I panicked," I told him. "I ended up taking the main path and it was a trap."
"Told you," Milo sang.
"Ignore him," Hazel said. "You made it here and that's what matters. Milo thought you were lost to the market."<</if>>
[[I don’t really understand what is going on]]
[[Please don't report me to the guards]]
[[Someone in the market pointed me to your shop]]“Please,” I looked at them with terrified eyes, the food settling in my stomach like lead. “Don't report me to the guards." I realized now that I had walked into this shop and simply assumed I was safe.
"No," Hazel assured me. "No. Please believe us when we say we do not agree with what is going on down at the beach." My eyes ticked towards Milo and he gave a brief nod. “Listen,” she said softly, “I know talking about tonight is the last thing you want to do, but we need some information if we are going to help you. And I have a suspicion, you have plenty of questions of your own.”
She wasn’t wrong. While earlier I felt as if I could barely speak past the emotions clogging my throat, as the food settled in my belly, I was beginning to feel a bit more clear-headed than I had before.
“I can try to talk,” I said. “I don’t really know how much information I can give you, though.”
Hazel’s tanned hand fell across mine, her fingers warm as they squeezed me encouragingly. “Just tell us what happened. How did you get here?”
The wind from the beach still scorched my cheeks, biting against me in a reminder of where I had stood. I could still see the way Milo’s fingers curled against the bars of the cage as he slammed his body against it, and feel the way my heart hammered against my lungs as I ran from him. Weaving within those loud, sweat soaked saloons. Slipping out the back door, and forcing several lies past clenched teeth until I somehow managed to make it free. I had walked right out of my prison with my head held high, yet I still felt as if those guards were quick on my tail.
My story was not met with an accusation. Milo looked vaguely impressed while Hazel took it all in without comment, pouring me a cup of tea.
“Well, those men will be fired if the truth ever comes out.” I couldn’t quite tell, but Milo looked almost pleased with the idea.
Scooting her chair closer to me, Hazel turned her body to fully face my own. “Thank the Knowing you were able to catch them off duty. Normally they are much more relentless. Or at least the younger ones are.”
I frowned. “Why the younger ones?”
“More to prove,” Milo answered.
“Do you have any questions?” Hazel asked, pushing a steaming mug of tea before me. “I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.”
[[I’m not sure if I’ll retain any of what you say but I do have some questions]]
[[I’m exhausted but my brain is still scrambling to understand just what happened to me]]
[[I’m pretty much ready to wash my hands of this place]]
"There was a woman in the market. Neve? She was the one to point me this way. She said I would be safe here."
Milo grinned at that. "Good old Neve. Did she give you kafe? I could use with a good cup of kafe right now."
Hazel pointed towards a teapot and I watched as steam began to rise from it. Milo hummed in appreciation as the spicy scente of something warm filled the room.
“Listen,” Hazel said softly, “I know talking about tonight is the last thing you want to do, but we need some information if we are going to help you. And I have a suspicion, you have plenty of questions of your own.”
She wasn’t wrong. While earlier I felt as if I could barely speak past the emotions clogging my throat, as the food settled in my belly, I was beginning to feel a bit more clear-headed than I had before.
“I can try to talk,” I said. “I don’t really know how much information I can give you, though.”
Hazel’s tanned hand fell across mine, her fingers warm as they squeezed me encouragingly. “Just tell us what happened. How did you get here?”
The wind from the beach still scorched my cheeks, biting against me in a reminder of where I had stood. I could still see the way Milo’s fingers curled against the bars of the cage as he slammed his body against it, and feel the way my heart hammered against my lungs as I ran from him. Weaving within those loud, sweat soaked saloons. Slipping out the back door, and forcing several lies past clenched teeth until I somehow managed to make it free. I had walked right out of my prison with my head held high, yet I still felt as if those guards were quick on my tail.
My story was not met with an accusation. Milo looked vaguely impressed while Hazel took it all in without comment, pouring me a cup of tea.
“Well, those men will be fired if the truth ever comes out.” I couldn’t quite tell, but Milo looked almost pleased with the idea.
Scooting her chair closer to me, Hazel turned her body to fully face my own. “Thank the Knowing you were able to catch them off duty. Normally they are much more relentless. Or at least the younger ones are.”
I frowned. “Why the younger ones?”
“More to prove,” Milo answered.
“Do you have any questions?” Hazel asked, pushing a steaming mug of tea before me. “I’m sure everything must feel terribly confusing right now.”
[[I’m not sure if I’ll retain any of what you say but I do have some questions]]
[[I’m exhausted but my brain is still scrambling to understand just what happened to me]]
[[I’m pretty much ready to wash my hands of this place]]
Going to the mushroom door, I pushed it open. The wood was old and cracked, and in each corner, painted flowers flaked off, barely visibly anymore. A large open window let light in from outside, the wisps from the birch tree flitting in and out, some of them settling on the canopy of ivy that surrounded the large bed. Patchwork quilts and knitted blankets littered the mattress, the likes of which were set into a twisting oak that branched out and carved its way through the walls. Juts of fluttering leaves and spindly bits of wood crept all along the room, arcing through the floor boards before weaving themselves into various bits of furniture.
It was clear that this was Hazel’s room. The bright, mismatched patterns alone would have been a dead giveaway. But it also smelled like her. Like herbs and warm pots of tea. Backing out, I shut the door behind me.
I probably shouldn’t have been snooping on the woman who was giving me shelter. Instead, I decided to head downstairs.
[[Head downstairs]]Stepping up to the unmarked door, I couldn’t help but notice the layer of dust that lined the bottom. It was clearly a door that had not been used in years. The dust and memories contained inside pushing out against the cracks and coating the entryway with a layer of sorrow. Gently, I put my hand on the door, feeling the imperfection in the wood. It was splintered and rough but felt oddly right against my hand.
//You’ll be okay//
Jumping back, I looked around, eyes whipping to each corner as I expected to see Hazel, or anyone really. But the room was as empty as when I had first entered. Even the fire in the hearth was quiet.
My eyes ticked back towards the door, thinking of the alley that lay below and the spirits that wandered it. I didn’t really know what being a witch entailed but it was perhaps something I shouldn’t poke at too firmly. Backing away from the door, I eyed it warily, listening for the voice again. But there was nothing.
Deciding I probably shouldn’t be snooping on the woman who had given me shelter, I turned to head downstairs. I didn’t know if I wanted to be alone in this room any longer.
[[Head downstairs]]
It was one such day, early in the morning, that I crouched near the front door of Hazel’s Apothecary. I had somehow come to know the different shades of night and was able to suss out my own version of the passing of time. The ‘mornings’ were far more gray than any other hour. Not the deep blue of midnight, but not quite the pretty dawn that painted the sky at twilight. Instead, the darkness was cast with a muted light. Something soft and subtle to ease a person into the commotion. Hazel had explained that everyone kept different hours and different mornings. That there was no universal time. But I could have sworn the lamplight changed based on the passing day.
I had gotten up that morning earlier than normal. Staying within my room felt claustrophobic and while I knew Hazel would not be up for a few more hours, I headed downstairs, comfortable enough with the main lobby to start the day.
I lit the fire within the hearth, adding the enchanted coals and listening to them crack and pop as they began to stretch to life. Next, was the morning sweep of the dust shadows that gathered, trying to stick to the floor and slip up the leg of the occasional customer that wandered in. From there, I began gathering the jars that had been washed and left to dry the night before, restocking the shelves and harvesting the dried herbs hanging from the rafters. Last, was putting out cream for Billows. The fat gray cat lazily meandered around the cozy shop, weaving between my legs until I grabbed the jar from the small ice box Hazel kept tucked behind the counter.
“Patience,” I chided as he batted at my legs.
Pouring the cream, I crouched down next to him, watching as he happily accepted the offering.
[[Reach out and pet him]]
[[Ask how his evening went]]
[[Pour him more cream to bribe him into being nice]]Hesitantly, I reached out, running my hand down his silky mane. He paused for a moment, eyeing me suspiciously, tongue poking out mid-lick. I kept my movements gentle, scratching him between the ears every few passes. <<if $milokiss == "true">> I wondered if he would hate me simply for kissing Milo. The cat seemed to have a certain vengeance against the man that was deeply rooted. But while Billows eyed me suspiciously, I suspected the cream each morning made up for any animosity he had towards me.<</if>> When his head ducked back down to the cream, I laughed to myself.
“It’s getting all over your chin,” I whispered to the cat. I continued scratching behind his ear and down his back. The brief moments when I pulled away, he raised his butt, bumping it against my palm, not daring to tear his mouth away from his treat. “Okay,” I laughed. “Okay. I get it. It’s morning pet time.”
A low thrum could be heard from him, which I had come to know as his rattled purr.
“Good morning,” Hazel called. The door from the back garden opened and closed as she entered, a large basket in her arms. The plants in the shop cooed at her arrival, greeting her in song like they did most mornings. “Early morning harvest,” she explained upon spying the frown on my face. I had thought her to be asleep. Dropping her basket, leafy stalks of brown and green pods rolled across the counter. With a flick of her wrist, they came skittering back. “The leaves make a great salad and the seeds have wonderful medicinal properties.” Her cheeks were flushed with the cold, her eyes bright.
[[You should go by the fire and warm up]]
[[I can help you with the harvest in the mornings]]
[[Good morning, Hazel. How did you sleep?]]The cream stuck to Billows fur, staining his chin. I settled on the floor next to him, getting myself in a more comfortable position for conversation. “How did your evening go? You catch any mice?” I didn’t know if Night Market cats were any different from other cats. I also didn’t know if sitting and here and having a casual conversation with said cat was an indication of my mental state. Billows, however, ran the store in a way. I didn’t want to be on his bad side. I had seen what that had entailed with Milo, and it was not pretty.
“It’s cold this morning,” I continued saying to the cat. “But don’t worry, I’ll help keep the fire going all day, and we can put a pillow out for you. Do you sleep on a pillow?” I actually hadn’t seen a bed for the cat. And now that I thought about it, Billows did disappear outside for hours at a time. When I looked back down towards the fluffy gray bundle, he had paused his consumption of cream, staring at me with one gold eye flecked with green. There was an intelligence there that I was almost positive did not belong to other cats. I had the sinking suspicion Milo might be right. Billows may very well be a demon.
“Good morning,” Hazel called. The door from the back garden opened and closed as she entered, a large basket in her arms. The plants in the shop cooed at her arrival, greeting her in song like they did most mornings. “Early morning harvest,” she explained upon spying the frown on my face. I had thought her to be asleep. Dropping her basket, leafy stalks of brown and green pods rolled across the counter. With a flick of her wrist, they came skittering back. “The leaves make a great salad and the seeds have wonderful medicinal properties.” Her cheeks were flushed with the cold, her eyes bright.
[[You should go by the fire and warm up]]
[[I can help you with the harvest in the mornings]]
[[Good morning, Hazel. How did you sleep?]]Pouring a bit more cream into the saucer, I rested my chin on my folded hands, stretching cross the shop floor. The cat eyed me suspiciously but continued drinking, the thought of cream just too much to give him much pause.
“That good?” I whispered. My fingers itched to reach out and run them through his thick coat, but Mr. Billows seemed like a decidedly picky cat, and I didn’t want to chance the truce that we had. I was almost positive he had slashed open the flour bags the other morning, creating a paste across the floor that took hours to mop up. Suspicious little paw prints had been present in the massacre. <<if $milokiss == "true">> As crazy as it seemed, I had my suspicions this all stemmed from my kiss with Milo. The cat could probably smell him on me after the first day.<</if>>
“If you stop messing with me, there’s more where that came from.” I motioned to the jar of cream that still rested by our side. The cat looked at it, weighing his options. In the end, there was very little competition when it came to the idea of more treats.
One golden eye flecked with green ticked towards me and I couldn’t be sure, but I almost thought I saw the cat nod.
“Good morning,” Hazel called. The door from the back garden opened and closed as she entered, a large basket in her arms. The plants in the shop cooed at her arrival, greeting her in song like they did most mornings. “Early morning harvest,” she explained upon spying the frown on my face. I had thought her to be asleep. Dropping her basket, leafy stalks of brown and green pods rolled across the counter. With a flick of her wrist, they came skittering back. “The leaves make a great salad and the seeds have wonderful medicinal properties.” Her cheeks were flushed with the cold, her eyes bright.
[[You should go by the fire and warm up]]
[[I can help you with the harvest in the mornings]]
[[Good morning, Hazel. How did you sleep?]]“Is it cold out this morning?” I asked. “You look nearly frozen.” Standing from the floor, I brushed off my tunic. “The fire should be nice and warm by now.” It roared to life first thing this morning with very little prompting from me. It was the only heat source within the shop, and I was glad that it seemed to reach every nook and cranny within these walls.
Bouncing on her feet, Hazel glanced towards the fire with a bit of trepidation, though. I had noticed that about her. Every night before she went to bed, she almost obsessively made sure the fire was not only out, but the coals were frigid. I knew magic had to be responsible for such a quick light come morning but it did leave me wondering just what Hazel saw when she looked into those flames.
Rubbing her hands together, Hazel nodded. “It is a bit chilly out there,” she said. Stomping her boots on the ground, I swore I saw bits of frost melt against the boards.
Hazel made her way to the fire, standing in front of it and swaying. Her skirts traced against the ground in small damp patterns before the moisture quickly dissipated with the heat. She held her gloved hands out, the fingers having been cut out long ago, leaving long, tanned digits exposed to the cold. They had a redder hue this morning as they began to dethaw.
“Thank you for getting everything started this morning,” she said. “I was down by the river bank when I saw the chimney begin to puff. It’s been a long while since I’ve had anyone else here to really do that.”
[[I thought you had helpers before?]]
[[(flirt)So no significant others to help then?]]
[[I am happy to get the fire going in the morning for you]]“You don’t have to do the morning rush alone,” I told her. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>“You did hire me to help you.”
“Some days it doesn’t feel like I hired you at all,” she said with a small smile. “Some days it feels like I’m forcing you to work here. Like I’m some sort of task master, holding you here against your will.”<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> “I may work for the Warden but you are the one who actually seems to care for me. I don’t mind helping.”
“You shouldn’t have to do anything, given your circumstances. Something I would think the Warden would understand but it seems like he’s forgotten where he’s come from.”<</if>>
I raised a brow at her, unsure how to respond to that. She waved me off quickly, however. “Sorry. Still trying to wake up.” The tone of it all felt significant. I filed it away for later, when she looked less frozen and a bit more calm. As it was, she was bouncing on her feet, glancing at the roaring fire. I had not seen her act nervous around the hearth before except for the initial go, first thing in the morning. It was why I started it today. It seemed like a task she hated and one in which she always saved for the last possible moment. But it was far too cold today to do something like that.
Hazel made her way to the fire, standing in front of it and swaying. Her skirts traced against the ground in small damp patterns before the moisture quickly dissipated with the heat. She held her gloved hands out, the fingers having been cut out long ago, leaving long, tanned digits exposed to the cold. They had a redder hue this morning as they began to dethaw.
“Thank you for getting everything started this morning,” she said. “I was down by the river bank when I saw the chimney begin to puff. It’s been a long while since I’ve had anyone else here to really do that.”
[[I thought you had helpers before?]]
[[(flirt)So no significant others to help then?]]
[[I am happy to get the fire going in the morning for you]]I turned a warm smile to her as she came inside. “Good morning,” I told her. “How did you sleep?”
“Good,” she chirped. “Billows actually came home last night and we got to snuggle.” She turned her gaze to the cat and gave him an admonishing smile. “I see you sweet talked your way into a second helping of cream.”
The cat didn’t glance at her. With his face buried in the bowl, he turned his body, wiggling his butt at her mockingly. Hazel only laughed.
“How about you? It seems as if you are sleeping better. Better than those first initial nights, at least.”
“A bit,” I told her. Better sleep was only brought on by helping Hazel during the day. The tasks tired me more than I thought they would. Then, with Hazel’s ample amounts of food at night, I had a suspicion I was falling into a food coma each and every evening.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. If there is anything else I can do to make you more comfortable here, please let me know.” She had already done so much. Asking her for more seemed greedy. I just smiled and nodded at her though. Just like I did each time she said as such. Which was at least twice a day.
Bouncing on her feet, Hazel glanced towards the fire with a bit of trepidation. I had noticed that about her. Every night before she went to bed, she almost obsessively made sure the fire was not only out, but the coals were frigid. I knew magic had to be responsible for such a quick light come morning but it did leave me wondering just what Hazel saw when she looked into those flames.
Rubbing her hands together, Hazel nodded. “It is a bit chilly out this morning,” she said. Stomping her boots on the ground, I swore I saw bits of frost melt against the boards.
Hazel made her way to the fire, standing in front of it and swaying. Her skirts traced against the ground in small damp patterns before the moisture quickly dissipated with the heat. She held her gloved hands out, the fingers having been cut out long ago, leaving long, tanned digits exposed to the cold. They had a redder hue this morning as they began to dethaw.
“Thank you for getting everything started this morning,” she said. “I was down by the river bank when I saw the chimney begin to puff. It’s been a long while since I’ve had anyone else here to really do that.”
[[I thought you had helpers before?]]
[[(flirt)So no significant others to help then?]]
[[I am happy to get the fire going in the morning for you]]
“I thought you said you had helpers before.” From what I had pieced together from previous conversations, it sounded as if she had recently had someone here not too long ago. Before they got on their feet again and found a permanent home within the Night Market.
“I did. But, well, you know how it all is,” she said with a shrug. “The things you all have been through is a lot. They all had a tendency to sleep. Like a lot of sleep. I’m actually surprised you’re on your feet,” she paused, as if she were afraid I was going to pass out. “Besides, none of them really stayed long. I think once they kind of accepted that this was their life, they wanted to get it started.” Her eyes went wide as she spun to me. “That’s not to say I think you should do the same. I am here for you. I will help you as long as you need, and I don’t think you should just accept something because everyone else did.”
The longer I stared at her, the more flustered she became. The flush was one that covered her entire body as she shifted back and forth, buzzing her lips together to shake out the rest of her nerves.
"Sorry," she said. "My brother always said that I had this tendency to either overshare or insert foot in mouth. Or ramble."
"You have a brother?"
"Malcolm," she said. "His name was Malcolm." I noticed the was that was tacked on but didn't press it further. "$name, I really am sorry. I didn't mean-- You should do whatever makes you comfortable."
[[Help her with the morning chores|Chapter Three Work]]
[[Assure her that it is really okay]]
[[The other people sound ungrateful]]“What, no Mr. or Mrs. Albright to help out around the house?” I had yet to see evidence of anyone special in Hazel’s life. Instead, her evenings were mainly filled with Mr. Billows and Milo. After spending just one evening with them, it was clear that Milo and her had nothing going between them other than sibling love.
"Oh, well, there was Mal. My brother. But he wasn't much of a housekeeper and that was absolutley not what you meant, was it." Her eyes grew wider and wider as she let my words sink in.
"No," I said with a grin. "It was not."
The laughter that erupted from Hazel’s throat was nervous. Her eyes ducked down as she scuffed her boots back and forth. “Ah, no. That would be a definitive no.”
“Why definitive?”
“Oh, not because I’m not interested,” she said quickly. Immediately, her eyes widened and she looked at me, as if caught in a spotlight. “I mean… I am interested. In people, that is. No one specific. I could be! Just uh- I mean. You know…”
[[Stammer back at her, feeling your own cheeks heat up]]
[[Smile at her and boldly flirt back.]]
[[Change the subject]]“I’d be happy to take responsibility for the fire in the morning. If it helps you.”
Her eyes popped up to mine and relief spun through the room in glittering coils. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, it practically jumps to life on its own already. It’s really no burden.” The fire popped in agreement, making Hazel jump. It then gave a slow sizzle of apology to the woman, dousing its flame to a simmer.
“I would appreciate that a lot, actually. I know I need to keep a fire going in the hearth. I can’t make half the things I do without one. But, I-” she kicked at the ground. “I have a little bit of an aversion to it.”
“I noticed that you get a bit nervous around it.”
She nodded. “I was stuck on this side of the alley when it went up in flames. It was just my brother Malcolm and I." I felt my stomach knot. The burnt out passage that led to the little oasis we were in now. “I know that a hearth fire and that fire are two very different things but sometimes it just… it’s the smell really. It’s not something I enjoy. Not anymore.”
“I understand,” I told her. “While I’m here, how about I take over lighting it in the morning and putting it out each evening?”
The relief that was shed from her shoulders was visible. “I’d really appreciate it.”
[[Next|Chapter Three Work]]“No. Yeah. Of course,” I stammered back. I could feel my cheeks heating with a matching blush. “I didn’t mean…” I cleared my throat.
The two of us stood awkwardly in the middle of the apothecary, a few feet apart, the sound of Billows lapping almost obnoxiously at the cream the only sound filling the room.
As Hazel played with the tonics hanging from her belt, she looked around the shop. I, too, felt my gaze wandering, hoping to find something, a topic of conversation, that might help banish the awkwardness and the own heat that I felt flicker against me.
“Um, should we get to work?” Hazel offered.
I nearly sighed in relief. “Yes. Work. Of course.”
[[Next|Chapter Three Work]]“You’re cute when you blush,” I told her. If possible the blush deepened. The way her eyes widened, and her lips puckered into a small ‘oh’ had me smiling. It was at least warming her up from her morning in the frigid air.
“I - uh- Th-thank you?” She looked everywhere in the room but at me, biting her bottom lip and fiddling with the tonics she had hanging from her belt. I stood by my assertion. Hazel was down right adorable when flustered.
“We should probably get to work,” she said, nervously, almost.
I nodded my head, deciding not to flirt too much more. She looked nearly terrified of the situation. But I couldn’t help but notice the interested gaze she shot back at me from beneath her lashes.
[[Next|Chapter Three Work]]The blush that appeared high across her cheek was adorable. It colored the apples of her cheeks a deeper tone while her eyes went wide. I found myself suddenly curious about what else could make her look this way. Given that she now fidgeted nervously, though, looking at me with a flustered gaze, I decided not to press it further.
“Is there a lot of work today?” I asked. I glanced towards the front counter. On any given day, chaos erupted within the shop walls. Whether that was from an influx of sudden orders or from a malfunctioning purchase from the budget district.
“Oh, I’m not sure. I haven’t checked. Once my fingers unthaw we should get to work.”
Mr. Billows burped unceremoniously at my feet, then rubbed up against me, thanking me for the cream.
[[Next|Chapter Three Work]]We lapsed into silence, going about our morning duties. A few order scrolls had appeared in the box by the cash register. I had noticed the green painted box with the flaking paint, the third day I was here. The box would be empty when we went to bed at night, but by the next morning, toppling scrolls would be fighting for first position, squeaking at each other in feigned importance. This morning, there were eight.
“It’s a runic system,” Hazel had explained. “There are small drop boxes around town that you just need to draw the right sigil on, and then the Night Market takes care of it.”
“When you say the Night Market takes care of it, do you mean like a person delivers the scrolls or a… a spell?”
“Nope. I mean the Night Market takes care of it,” she said happily. It had become a common explanation for the unexplainable. No one seemed certain how their realm worked and the rules to it changed so often that it was a full time job just to keep up. As long as their system continued to work, however, most found no need to question it.
That morning, we worked quickly and methodically on our orders, and for the first time, I felt as if Hazel had to give me very little direction on what herbs to retrieve from her and which smoke to cleanse the bottles with. It felt satisfying in a way. Knowing that after one week, I was more sturdy with my motions. It helped the feelings of helplessness ebb away.
After the morning rush was completed and Hazel had handed me a steaming mug of something hot and spicy, she regarded me carefully.
“You’ve had your papers for a few days now,” she commented. They had come in on the morning of the second day. I had had them nearly a week. “Why haven’t you tried to go explore the Market a bit more?”
[[Because that alley terrifies me]]
[[I’m still nervous about the Velvet Guard]]
[[I was told to lay low]]
[[I enjoy spending my time with you]]“It’s okay,” I tried to tell her. “I don’t take offense to it. The situation itself seems rather… impossible.”
Turning back to the fire, Hazel frowned. “I don’t know if I would say impossible.” There was a determination that Hazel held, and I knew she held it for me. I wondered if she was like this with all the people she had helped. If she was just the kind of person who looked at a messy situation and believed that it had to get better.
“What I mean,” I continued. “Is I get it. There’s really only so much you can do when you have no leads into a predicament you only barely understand. I’m sure the other people would have tried more if they could, but at some point, I guess it is going to come down to a choice of whether I continue to put my life on hold.”
It was an answer that sent a crease between her brows and her lips thinning. I was coming to recognize this as Hazel’s disapproval. Not necessarily at me, but at the notion that I was even entertaining the idea of one day having to give up. “Well, whatever you decide, you know I am happy to have you the entire time. I enjoyed seeing the chimney smoke this morning.”
[[Next|Chapter Three Work]]“I know they needed to get their sleep and what not, but those other people sound ungrateful.”
Hazel’s head snapped up, her gaze locking with mine. “What?”
“You do everything for everyone. I have seen it, and I’ve only been here a week. The least someone can do for you is start a fire and help out around here.”
The struggle to understand warred across her face, as if she couldn’t quite come to terms with the idea that I was angry on her behalf. I realized then that not many were. Hazel was the type of person used to putting her own thoughts and needs aside, getting lost in everyone else's emotions. I wondered how many had stood up for her when she needed it.
“I assure you, no one took advantage of me,” she said softly. “But I thank you for the sentiment all the same.”
[[Next|Chapter Three Work]]I took the steaming mug gratefully, considering my answer. Of course, when I had first received the papers, the thought to explore the market did cross my mind. Maybe try to discern just what had happened to me. Someone out there had to have seen something. But, I never quite made it past Hazel’s front gate. I had been out in her garden, down to the small stream out back, but I had not walked through the stone arches that separated her quiet little hovel from the stretch of burnt out buildings and prowling ghosts.
Prowling ghosts that I could see from my window at night. I had watched them, walking across the breadth of the alley, disappearing into crumbling buildings with mournful songs. They never crossed into Hazel’s area, but I could see it on some of them. The hunger in their eyes. It felt like it was only a matter of time before they broke through whatever was keeping them at bay.
“That alley terrifies me,” I told her honestly. “I haven’t worked up the courage to go down it again. Not alone at least.”
Hazel’s own gaze ticked towards the stained-glass windows, as if she could see into the macabre scene just outside her door. “I understand,” she said gently. “I just don’t want you to think these walls are all of what we have. The Night Market is vast. You are bound to find something out there that interests you. While I love your company, my little shop is not the end all be all of this district. Don’t let them win.” Her voice sounded sad and I couldn’t help but think it was born from personal experience.
Digging under the counter, Hazel’s head bounced back and forth. I heard the jangling of half filled boxes and the chimes of broken glass. When she pulled out a small pouch, it was with a broad smile. It made the freckles across her nose crinkle.
“Here.”
“What’s this?” I took the small sachet. It was heavy in my palm.
“Payday!” she said happily. She bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands together. “I have been so excited to give it to you!”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>"I don’t work for you, though,” I said, looking at the box incrediously.
“It's from the Warden,” she explained. “I had a very firm discussion with him when he picked you up the other day. I don't care about his strange debt laws. A person needs to eat." She grinned a little. "I may have also insinuated that business was not doing so well and that I couldn't pay out of my pocket. I lied of course but a little guilt goes a long way."<</if>> \
<<if $bloodmoney == "true">> "Keep it," I told her. "I already told him I do not want his blood money."
Hazel sighed. "He said you might say something like that. Look, $name. Take the money. It is not a pay off. It is a way to provide you comfort within the market. Get you some new clothes. Make you not feel like a prisoner."
I eyed the sachet, feeling the coin inside. It certainly was not much. Even if it was, Hazel was right. I couldn't be turning this away. Curling my fingers around it, I sighed. "Okay. No. You're right." It somehow felt wrong to accept money from the Warden. It was a little easier accepting it from Hazel.<</if>>
[[Thank you so much for this. I needed to start earning a living if I was to stay in the Night Market]]
[[I have no idea how currency even works here]]
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>[[Hazel doesn’t make a lot of money. I can’t accept that]]<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>[[I will happily bleed the Warden dry]]<</if>>
I took the steaming mug gratefully, considering my answer. Of course, when I had first received the papers, the thought to explore the market did cross my mind. Maybe try to discern what had happened to me. Someone out there had to have seen something. But, I never quite made it past Hazel’s front gate. I had been out in her garden, down to the small stream out back, but I had not walked through the stone arches that separated her quiet little hovel from the stretch of burnt out buildings and prowling ghosts.
Despite this, it was the Velvet Guard that gave me pause. Even though the papers were now in my hand, I couldn’t help but think that I would leave these doors only to find a set of crimson coats standing in wait on the other side of the alley. That everything I had worked for was in vain, and they would still find me guilty. Charge me with an escape. I would be right back where I started.
“The Velvet Guard make me nervous still,” I told her.
Hazel frowned at that. “I know it must be scary, but I assure you, there are good people within those ranks. Gabriel runs a tight ship.”
“No, I… I think I believe you. I just…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain it. Not that it mattered, Hazel seemed to understand it all the same.
“It’s going to take time,” she said gently. “It has only been a week and I’m sure things are getting better, but the world doesn’t just become less scary overnight. I just don’t want you to think these walls are all of what we have. The Night Market is vast. You are bound to find something out there that interests you. While I love your company, my little shop is not the end all be all of this district. Don’t let them win.” Her voice sounded sad and I couldn’t help but think it was born from personal experience.
Digging under the counter, Hazel’s head bounced back and forth. I heard the jangling of half filled boxes and the chimes of broken glass. When she pulled out a small pouch, it was with a broad smile. It made the freckles across her nose crinkle.
“Here.”
“What’s this?” I took the small sachet. It was heavy in my palm.
“Payday!” she said happily. She bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands together. “I have been so excited to give it to you!”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">> "I don’t work for you, though,” I said, looking at the box incrediously.
“It's from the Warden,” she explained. “I had a very firm discussion with him when he picked you up the other day. I don't care about his strange debt laws. A person needs to eat." She grinned a little. "I may have also insinuated that business was not doing so well and that I couldn't pay out of my pocket. I lied of course but a little guilt goes a long way."<</if>> \
<<if $bloodmoney == "true">> "Keep it," I told her. "I already told him I do not want his blood money."
Hazel sighed. "He said you might say something like that. Look, $name. Take the money. It is not a pay off. It is a way to provide you comfort within the market. Get you some new clothes. Make you not feel like a prisoner."
I eyed the sachet, feeling the coin inside. It certainly was not much. Even if it was, Hazel was right. I couldn't be turning this away. Curling my fingers around it, I sighed. "Okay. No. You're right." It somehow felt wrong to accept money from the Warden. It was a little easier accepting it from Hazel.<</if>>
[[Thank you so much for this. I needed to start earning a living if I was to stay in the Night Market]]
[[I have no idea how currency even works here]]
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>[[Hazel doesn’t make a lot of money. I can’t accept that]]<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>[[I will happily bleed the Warden dry]]<</if>>
I took the steaming mug gratefully, considering my answer. Of course, when I had first received the papers the thought to explore the market did cross my mind. Maybe try to discern just what had happened to me. Someone out there had to have seen something. But, I never quite made it past Hazel’s front gate. I had been out in her garden, down to the small stream out back, but I had not walked through the stone arches that separated her quiet little hovel from the stretch of burnt out buildings and prowling ghosts.
But, I had been told that this was exactly what I needed to do. Inactivity. Belladonna had suggested that if I kept my head down, whoever had brought me here would seek me out. So, despite longing to figure out just what had happened to me, I was willing to give it a chance. A woman like Belladonna did not seem prone to lying.
“I was told to keep a quiet profile,” I said with a small shrug. “And helping you seems like a good way to pass the time.”
Hazel smiled at me from over the rim of her mug. “Thank you. You really have been a big help, but…” she shuffled her feet. “I don’t want you to think these walls are all of what we have. The Night Market is vast. You are bound to find something out there that interests you. While I love your company, my little shop is not the end all be all of this district.” Her voice sounded sad and I couldn’t help but think it was born from personal experience.
Digging under the counter, Hazel’s head bounced back and forth. I heard the jangling of half filled boxes and the chimes of broken glass. When she pulled out a small pouch, it was with a broad smile. It made the freckles across her nose crinkle.
“Here.”
“What’s this?” I took the small sachet. It was heavy in my palm.
“Payday!” she said happily. She bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands together. “I have been so excited to give it to you!”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">> "I don’t work for you, though,” I said, looking at the box incrediously.
“It's from the Warden,” she explained. “I had a very firm discussion with him when he picked you up the other day. I don't care about his strange debt laws. A person needs to eat." She grinned a little. "I may have also insinuated that business was not doing so well and that I couldn't pay out of my pocket. I lied of course but a little guilt goes a long way."<</if>> \
<<if $bloodmoney == "true">> "Keep it," I told her. "I already told him I do not want his blood money."
Hazel sighed. "He said you might say something like that. Look, $name. Take the money. It is not a pay off. It is a way to provide you comfort within the market. Get you some new clothes. Make you not feel like a prisoner."
I eyed the sachet, feeling the coin inside. It certainly was not much. Even if it was, Hazel was right. I couldn't be turning this away. Curling my fingers around it, I sighed. "Okay. No. You're right." It somehow felt wrong to accept money from the Warden. It was a little easier accepting it from Hazel.<</if>>
[[Thank you so much for this. I needed to start earning a living if I was to stay in the Night Market]]
[[I have no idea how currency even works here]]
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>[[Hazel doesn’t make a lot of money. I can’t accept that]]<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>[[I will happily bleed the Warden dry]]<</if>>
I took the steaming mug gratefully, considering my answer. Of course, when I had first received the papers, the thought to explore the market did cross my mind. Maybe try to discern just what had happened to me. Someone out there had to have seen something. But, I never quite made it past Hazel’s front gate. I had been out in her garden, down to the small stream out back, but I had not walked through the stone arches that separated her quiet little hovel from the stretch of burnt out buildings and prowling ghosts.
The thing was, when I was honest about it, leaving had only been a passing fancy. I had been enjoying my time within the apothecary. Getting to know Hazel. Getting to know Mr. Billows. Even the occasional evening meal with Milo was something I was coming to look forward to. Hazel’s laughter filled the room with each bawdy story he told, and she always had something to teach me. Whether it was the way a herb was to be harvested under the certain light of a lantern, or how hot to get your cauldron boiling before adding ingredients for stew. I was enjoying myself. I was enjoying her.
“I’ll venture out. I will. This last week has been nice, though. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”
Hazel’s smile was bright as she rocked back and forth on her feet. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you too,” she said eagerly. “It is so nice having something to talk to during the day.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It really has.”
“However,” she began, a touch of sternness to her tone. “I don’t want you to think these walls are all of what we have. The Night Market is vast. You are bound to find something out there that interests you. While I love your company, my little shop is not the end all be all of this district. Don’t let them win.” Her voice sounded sad and I couldn’t help but think it was born from personal experience.
Digging under the counter, Hazel’s head bounced back and forth. I heard the jangling of half filled boxes and the chimes of broken glass. When she pulled out a small pouch, it was with a broad smile. It made the freckles across her nose crinkle.
“Here.”
“What’s this?” I took the small sachet. It was heavy in my palm.
“Payday!” she said happily. She bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands together. “I have been so excited to give it to you!”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">> "I don’t work for you, though,” I said, looking at the box incrediously.
“It's from the Warden,” she explained. “I had a very firm discussion with him when he picked you up the other day. I don't care about his strange debt laws. A person needs to eat." She grinned a little. "I may have also insinuated that business was not doing so well and that I couldn't pay out of my pocket. I lied of course but a little guilt goes a long way."<</if>> \
<<if $bloodmoney == "true">> "Keep it," I told her. "I already told him I do not want his blood money."
Hazel sighed. "He said you might say something like that. Look, $name. Take the money. It is not a pay off. It is a way to provide you comfort within the market. Get you some new clothes. Make you not feel like a prisoner."
I eyed the sachet, feeling the coin inside. It certainly was not much. Even if it was, Hazel was right. I couldn't be turning this away. Curling my fingers around it, I sighed. "Okay. No. You're right." It somehow felt wrong to accept money from the Warden. It was a little easier accepting it from Hazel.<</if>>
[[Thank you so much for this. I needed to start earning a living if I was to stay in the Night Market]]
[[I have no idea how currency even works here]]
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>[[Hazel doesn’t make a lot of money. I can’t accept that]]<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>[[I will happily bleed the Warden dry]]<</if>>
I stared down at the small pouch in my hand, feeling the slight weight of it. It was by no means much, but with everything else she paid for, the small offering felt overflowing with riches. Buying myself food or some clothes suddenly felt like a luxury.
“Thank you,” I told her earnestly. “I don’t know what to say.” I was more than happy to take the coin, however, and buy myself something different to wear.
“You are doing a job. You don’t need to thank me. You work hard, and you deserve to have a bit of coin in return. Besides,” she looked at me pointedly. “You really should go get yourself some new clothes. Enjoy the Fashion District. Decide what it is your style actually is, and get comfortable in your own skin. I can tell you’re still struggling with that.”
“Shopping, huh?” I looked down at the coin purse. I couldn’t say that I hated the idea of getting a little something more. The plain clothes I had been wearing the last week, while clean, were beginning to grow old. They still felt like a prisoner's uniform, reminding me potently of the docks. “You know. That’s not a bad idea.”
“Good.” Turning, she took her tea, petting Mr. Billows as he meandered towards her for loves. “You shouldn’t go alone this first time. Not until you get a sense of the Market itself. But I bet you anything, after an afternoon of wandering, you’ll get to know the market.”
[[Would you like to come with me?]]
[[I wondered silently if I could convince Belladonna to join me]]
[[Do you think Milo would take me?]]
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[(Gabriel) I'm going to go on my own]]
<<elseif $workforhazel == "true">>[[Maybe Gabriel would be up for another day off?]]<</if>>“Shopping, huh?” I looked down at the coin purse. I couldn’t say that I hated the idea of getting a little something more. The plain clothes I had been wearing the last week, while clean, were beginning to grow old. They still felt like a prisoner's uniform, reminding me potently of the docks. “You know. That’s not a bad idea.”
“Good.” Turning, she took her tea, petting Mr. Billows as he meandered towards her for loves. “You shouldn’t go alone this first time. Not until you get a sense of the Market itself. But I bet you anything, after an afternoon of wandering, you’ll get to know the market.”
“Hazel,” I said gently. “I don’t even know how currency works here.” There was no way of knowing whether what she was giving me was too much or too little. The idea that I even had money felt like a luxury.
“Every vendor is different. Exchange rates are based on them.”
I blinked at her, hoping she was joking somehow but finding her gaze to be completely serious. “Oh,” I said. “Great.”
She patted my shoulder sympathetically. “You’ll get it. Don’t worry.”
I curled the pouch into my palm, holding it tightly.
“Besides,” she looked at me pointedly. “You really should go get yourself some new clothes. Enjoy the Fashion District. Decide what it is your style actually is, and get comfortable in your own skin. I can tell you’re still struggling with that.”
[[Would you like to come with me?]]
[[I wondered silently if I could convince Belladonna to join me]]
[[Do you think Milo would take me?]]
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[(Gabriel) I'm going to go on my own]]
<<elseif $workforhazel == "true">>[[Maybe Gabriel would be up for another day off?]]<</if>>
“Hazel,” I said gently. “I’ve seen the amount of work that comes through this shop. You really don’t need to pay me with everything else you have done for me.” It wasn't that I thought Hazel wasn’t making money, but I didn’t know how she was making enough to pay for absolutely everything for me and also give me a spare bit of coin just for leisure. It had been my understanding that the room, food, spare set of clothes, and all the other little things I had needed, was my payment for sweeping and tucking herbs into velvet pouches.
“I make more than enough to survive,” she said. “You’ve seen the amount of orders that come through.” I had. But I had never seen her get paid for them. There were even a few I knew she never saw coin for. Hazel operated most of her shop on kindness and generated good will.
“Hazel…”
Her hand curled around my own, closing my fingers over the heavy pouch. “I won’t hear it. You work hard, and you deserve to have a bit of coin in return. Besides,” she looked at me pointedly. “You really should go get yourself some new clothes. Enjoy the Fashion District. Decide what your style actually is, and get comfortable in your own skin. I can tell you’re still struggling with that.”
“Shopping, huh?” I looked down at the coin purse. I couldn’t say that I hated the idea of getting a little something more. The plain clothes I had been wearing the last week, while clean, were beginning to grow old. They still felt like a prisoner's uniform, reminding me potently of the docks. “You know. That’s not a bad idea.”
“Good.” Turning, she took her tea, petting Mr. Billows as he meandered towards her for loves. “You shouldn’t go alone this first time. Not until you get a sense of the Market itself. But I bet you anything, after an afternoon of wandering, you’ll get to know the market.”
[[Would you like to come with me?]]
[[I wondered silently if I could convince Belladonna to join me]]
[[Do you think Milo would take me?]]
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[(Gabriel) I'm going to go on my own]]
<<elseif $workforhazel == "true">>[[Maybe Gabriel would be up for another day off?]]<</if>>
I took the pouch without preamble. “I will gladly bleed the Warden dry,” I told her. I owed the man nothing. As of yet, he had not called on me for this work he claimed to employ me for. I wasn’t going to go looking for it either. As far as I was concerned, he could stay on his side of the market while I stayed on mine. I wasn’t all together certain Hazel hadn’t already guilted him to do so. She seemed to have a way with the Warden.
“How do you know him, by the way. He must have a reason for helping you.”
Hazel shrugged. “He’s been coming to me for years. One of my first customers, in fact. I can’t say I know him personally but he has always been generous with his payment. The few times I’ve had to speak with him about guard matters, he’s been incredibly helpful.”
“I find that a bit hard to believe.” The man had wanted to toss me in a pit. He sold people for servitude to right their wrongs.
“I know you and he got off to a bad start,” Hazel said gently. “And I certainly don’t agree with everything he does. But, Gabriel Caine is a good man. I think he just forgets that sometimes.” I made to answer, ready to tell her just what kind of ‘good man’ the Warden actually was, but she cut me off. “You really should go get yourself some new clothes,” she said. Enjoy the Fashion District. Decide what your style actually is, and get comfortable in your own skin. I can tell you’re still struggling with that.”
“Shopping, huh?” I looked down at the coin purse. I couldn’t say that I hated the idea of getting a little something more. The plain clothes I had been wearing the last week, while clean, were beginning to grow old. They still felt like a prisoner's uniform, reminding me potently of the docks. “You know. That’s not a bad idea.”
“Good.” Turning, she took her tea, petting Mr. Billows as he meandered towards her for loves. “You shouldn’t go alone this first time. Not until you get a sense of the Market itself. But I bet you anything, after an afternoon of wandering, you’ll get to know the market.”
[[Would you like to come with me?]]
[[I wondered silently if I could convince Belladonna to join me]]
[[Do you think Milo would take me?]]
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>[[(Gabriel) I'm going to go on my own]]
<<elseif $workforhazel == "true">>[[Maybe Gabriel would be up for another day off?]]<</if>>
“Would you like to come with me?” I asked.
Her eyes turned to my own, wide and a little shocked at the question. It gave me the distinct impression that perhaps she wasn’t used to being invited anywhere.
“For… for clothes?” she squeaked.
“Like you said, I should probably get something other than this.” I plucked at the material, half expecting it to fall apart in my hands.
“That is true,” she started. “But uh… well, you see… it’s not that I don’t want to. I do! I really do, in fact. It’s just that…” she looked around the room. The cauldron bubbled off to one side, the evening's stew simmering. The basket of orders was well and truly empty now and the idea of waiting around for a walk in, well, it’s not like that happened with any sort of frequency. Still, I could see her grasping at straws, looking for any way to get out of what I had asked her.
[[Don’t worry about it. I can find my way]]
[[Are you scared?]]
[[Is everything okay?]]I wondered if I could find Gabriel. If he would want to help me navigate the Night Market. Somehow, I couldn’t see the man spending a prolonged period of time within the market, looking at clothes. But when I thought of who would be best to traverse the market with, the Warden came to mind. Besides, he was someone that may have been able to shed a bit more light on my situation, given what I had learned from Belladonna.
“You don’t know where Warden Caine would be today, would you?” I asked Hazel.
Hazel looked at me, confusion coloring her tone. “Why would you… oh. Oh!” A smile spread across her face. “The Warden, huh?”
I could hear it in her words. That slight teasing tone. The way she smiled at me. I tried to play it off. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Hazel paused, staring at me with her wide set eyes. “Except I just have to ask. Are we thinking the Warden is handsome?”
[[Do you think the Warden is handsome?]]
[[He is nice to look at]]
[[He locked me in a cage]]Silently, I wondered if Belladonna would want to go shopping with me. If somehow I could convince that woman to spend the afternoon with a project she had met only briefly. Probably not. Yet, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Her gold eyes were hard to shake. Not to mention the presence she exuded. The way she commanded a room. With very little effort from her part, I suddenly felt safe and was left craving more.
“What is it?” Hazel asked.
“Oh. Nothing.” I held the pouch in my hands. “I think I’ll explore the market a bit today,” I told her. “You’re right. I’m probably too cooped up in here.”
“You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”
I nodded. “I think it would be good for me, actually.”
Hazel gave me an encouraging smile. “Most people will help you if you ask them,” she said. “And you’ll know the Fashion District by all the mirrors. Go down the fourth alley from the three-tiered fountain and just head straight. Make no turns. You’ll find it.”
“Thanks.”
Leaning down to give Mr. Billows a final scratch, I tucked my coin pouch someplace safe, almost certain that I was an easy looking target to most pickpockets. Bidding Hazel farewell, I left the shop.
[[Next|Chapter Three B1]]
“Do you think Milo would come with me?” I asked.
She raised a brow at me from over her mug. “Milo?” she nearly choked on her tea with laughter. “Milo Next? The man who doesn’t know what a comb is and wears the same shirt twelve new moons out of the year?” It was an apt description of the man, now that I thought about it. Milo seemed far more concerned with wandering the streets and taking up space at taverns, than he did with his looks. “I think Milo would love to go with you,” she said sincerely. “I’m sorry if that came off wrong. I just….” she grinned widely.
“What?” I stared at her confused.
“Nothing.”
I tilted my head at her. She was practically vibrating with anticipation. “Just say it,” I told her.
“Do you fancy him?” she asked. She bit her lower lip so hard I was sure it was going to bleed.
[[I don’t know]]
[[No. Most certainly not. He just seems like he would make a good friend]]
[[He’s nice to look at]]I cleared my throat a bit. Milo was something else. With his mess of hair and open front shirt and every weird bit of metal that hung from him. He lived up to the idea of a scoundrel, sweaty and with a wide smile.
Did I like him? I certainly had not thought of it before. Life had moved at such a tumbling rate lately, it felt almost odd to claim any sort of feeling towards someone. But I wasn’t going to deny that there was something about Milo Next.
“I don’t know,” I told her honestly. “I think I should just focus on getting to know people before making any sort of decision like that.”
Hazel held her hands up. "I am in no way pushing you. Milo is a social creature. And while he gets a lot of his needs met by his nightly tavern crawls and by playing cards here, I would love to see him stop going home alone.” Holding her teacup within her small hands, she looked down into its depths. Confliction flitted across her face and just like that, I watched as she hunched in on herself. “It makes me sad that he doesn’t have anyone.”
I looked at her, watching the way she swallowed thickly. There was a story there. One I could tell she was hesitant to tell.
[[Are you sure nothing happened between you two?]]
[[Is there something I should be aware of if I do decide to pursue him?]]
[[Whatever this secret is, I wouldn’t ask. Milo would tell me in time if it was important]]
I laughed a little at the idea. Milo was something else, that was for sure. With his mess of hair and open front shirt and every weird bit of metal that hung from him. He lived up to the idea of a scoundrel, sweaty and with a wide smile. It was doubtful he ever struggled to find companionship. But that was not what I was looking for from him.
“No,” I told her. “I don’t like him like that. But he does seem like he would make a good friend.”
“Best friend I’ve ever had,” she said with a resolute nod. "I would love to see him stop going home alone. And that's not me putting him on you. He's a handful. It's just--” Holding her teacup within her small hands, she looked down into its depths. Confliction flitted across her face and just like that, I watched as she hunched in on herself. “It makes me sad that he doesn’t have anyone.”
I looked at her, watching the way she swallowed thickly. There was a story there. One I could tell she was hesitant to tell.
[[Are you sure nothing happened between you two?]]
[[Whatever this secret is, I wouldn’t ask. Milo would tell me in time if it was important]]
I cleared my throat a bit. Milo was something else. With his mess of hair and open front shirt and every weird bit of metal that hung from him. He lived up to the idea of a scoundrel, sweaty and with a wide smile.
A smile I could not get out of my head.
<<if $milokiss == "true">>Nor, could I really get rid of the feel of his lips.<</if>>
“He’s uh, certainly interesting.”
The squeak that came from Hazel caused Billows to go running beneath the wood pile near the front door. “Oh, I’m so happy. You two will look so cute together!”
[[Okay, hold on. You’re going a little too soon]]
[[You think so?]]
“Are you sure you two were never together?” I asked. “I’m not going to be upset if you were.” Was that why she wasn’t telling me? Maybe it had been so brief that she hadn’t felt it worth mentioning.
She snorted. “I’m positive. Milo is just a friend. A very good friend. But oh I do hope something develops between the two of you. The look on his face when he finds out someone genuinely likes him? It’ll be priceless. I want to be there. Please say I’ll be there.”
The bell over the door run. “You’ll be there,” Milo’s voice called out. Both Hazel and I froze, our eyes wide, staring at each other in mortification. Sauntering into the room, he gave Mr. Billows a wide berth before he stopped at the counter, hopping up on its surface. “Now, what are we talking about?”
“Nothing!” Hazel cried, turning to him in such a rush that she knocked over the glass jar of tiny totems we had woven together the night before. They went scattering across the ground, bursting to life and skittering beneath the floor boards. “Oh! Oh no!” Rushing around the counter, she went to gather them. Milo hopped down without question, stepping on a few of them to keep them from running further. Meanwhile, I tried to note which floorboards they sunk under, so I could pry them up and grab the things.
When they were all back in the jar, Hazel held it firmly between her palms, her nose pressed against the glass. “Naughty little charms of luck,” she chided. They giggled at her. “I’m just going to go put this in a more secure container,” she said. Our previous conversation seemed to leave her as she wandered towards the back room, muttering to the little beings tapping at her from inside the jar.
When the door shut, it left just me and Milo.
“Well, good mornin’, darlin’.” He said with a grin. “What did I walk in on?”
[[(Blush) Nothing]]
[[(Bold) Me telling Hazel I think you’re cute]]
[[(lie) Hazel forcing money on me.]]
[[Hazel wondering if I liked you]]Hazel wasn’t looking at me. I believed the both of them when they said they were just friends. Anyone that spent a lick of time with them could see that the bond they had was one that ran deep, but did not border on romance. With the way she was avoiding my gaze, however, I couldn’t help but wonder what else I was missing.
It was a secret, however, that was not for her to tell. I wasn’t going to pry it from her. Not when I knew how easily she would cave and feel guilty about it later. I made to change the subject for her before the silence pressed between us too long, rapidly trying to think of something that could get us away from the topic of Milo Next, when he walked in the door.
“Good morning to my favorite apothecary workers!” Milo called, hopping off the front landing and sauntering to our side. He leaned against the front counter, resting his messy head of hair against his bent elbow. “It is colder than a penguins' oasis out there.”
Hazel frowned. “I don’t think that’s a saying.”
“Makin’ it one.” He grinned at the both of us. “What were you two gossiping chaps talking about?”
“Nothing!” Hazel cried, turning to him in such a rush that she knocked over the glass jar of tiny totems we had woven together the night before. They went scattering across the ground, bursting to life and skittering beneath the floor boards. “Oh! Oh no!” Rushing around the counter, she went to gather them. Milo hopped down without question, stepping on a few of them to keep them from running further. Meanwhile, I tried to note which floorboards they sunk under, so I could pry them up and grab the things.
When they were all back in the jar, Hazel held it firmly between her palms, her nose pressed against the glass. “Naughty little charms of luck,” she chided. They giggled at her. “I’m just going to go put this in a more secure container,” she said. Our previous conversation seemed to leave her as she wandered towards the back room, muttering to the little beings tapping at her from inside the jar.
When the door shut, it left just me and Milo.
“Well, good mornin’, darlin’.” He said with a grin. “What did I walk in on?”
[[(Blush) Nothing]]
[[(Bold) Me telling Hazel I think you’re cute]]
[[(lie) Hazel forcing money on me.]]
[[Hazel wondering if I liked you]]“Hazel,” I began cautiously. “Is there something I need to be aware of on the off chance that I do want to pursue something with him?”
She wasn’t looking at me. I believed the both of them when they said they were just friends. Anyone that spent a lick of time with them could see that the bond they had was one that ran deep, but did not border on romance. With the way she was avoiding my gaze, however, I couldn’t help but wonder what else I was missing.
Tapping her fingers nervously against her teacup, she sighed. “I…”
The bell over the door rung, turning both our gazes towards the old wooden entryway. “Good morning to my favorite apothecary workers!” Milo called, hopping off the front landing and sauntering to our side. He leaned against the front counter, resting his messy head of hair against his bent elbow. “It is colder than a penguins' oasis out there.”
Hazel frowned. “I don’t think that’s a saying.”
“Makin’ it one.” He grinned at the both of us. “What were you two gossiping chaps talking about?”
“Nothing!” Hazel cried, turning to him in such a rush that she knocked over the glass jar of tiny totems we had woven together the night before. They went scattering across the ground, bursting to life and skittering beneath the floor boards. “Oh! Oh no!” Rushing around the counter, she went to gather them. Milo hopped down without question, stepping on a few of them to keep them from running further. Meanwhile, I tried to note which floorboards they sunk under, so I could pry them up and grab the things.
When they were all back in the jar, Hazel held it firmly between her palms, her nose pressed against the glass. “Naughty little charms of luck,” she chided. They giggled at her. “I’m just going to go put this in a more secure container,” she said. Our previous conversation seemed to leave her as she wandered towards the back room, muttering to the little beings tapping at her from inside the jar.
When the door shut, it left just me and Milo.
“Well, good mornin’, darlin’.” He said with a grin. “What did I walk in on?”
[[(Blush) Nothing]]
[[(Bold) Me telling Hazel I think you’re cute]]
[[(lie) Hazel forcing money on me.]]
[[Hazel wondering if I liked you]]“That’s a little premature. I’ve known him for a week. I’ve spent more time with you than with him,” I pointed out to her.
“Oh, let me have my fun,” she said, waving off my logic quickly and efficiently. “I think you would be good for him.”
“How so?”
“Milo is a social creature. And while he gets a lot of his needs met by his nightly tavern crawls and by playing cards here, I would love to see him stop going home alone.” Holding her teacup within her small hands, she looked down into its depths. Confliction flitted across her face and just like that, I watched as she hunched in on herself. “It makes me sad that he doesn’t have anyone.”
I looked at her, watching the way she swallowed thickly. There was a story there. One I could tell she was hesitant to tell.
[[Are you sure nothing happened between you two?]]
[[Is there something I should be aware of if I do decide to pursue him?]]
[[Whatever this secret is, I wouldn’t ask. Milo would tell me in time if it was important]]I swallowed. “You think so?” The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them. Hazel didn’t comment on the eagerness in my tone. Bless her. But she did give me a knowing grin over the rim of her rose patterned teacup.
“Look,” she said, “All I know is it’s been a long time since Milo has had someone. Too long. You would be good for him.”
“How so?”
“Milo is a social creature. And while he gets a lot of his needs met by his nightly tavern crawls and by playing cards here, I would love to stop seeing him go home alone. It makes me sad that he doesn’t have anyone.”
I looked at her, watching the way she swallowed thickly. There was a story there. One I could tell she was hesitant to tell.
[[Are you sure nothing happened between you two?]]
[[Is there something I should be aware of if I do decide to pursue him?]]
[[Whatever this secret is, I wouldn’t ask. Milo would tell me in time if it was important]]“Nothing,” I squeaked. My voice echoed across the room and I knew that despite my best efforts, embarrassment was coloring my neck and face. Delight colored Milo’s eyes at my embarrassment. Stepping forward, he crowded my space just enough that I could feel the heat of his body.
“Sure about that?” he drawled.
I cleared my throat. “Yes. Yeah. I - she was just…”
“Just what?” His hand reached out to where mine rested against the counter, tracing a small circle on the back of my wrist.
“Money,” I blurted.
“Money?”
“Yup. Money. She gave me some. That’s what we were talking about.” Without prompt, I shoved the small coin pouch towards him and stepped away to get control of myself. My eyes were wide as I turned my back to him.
I heard the jangling of the coin pouch behind me as Milo peeked inside, counting the contents. “Hazel can afford it, sugar. Stop fighting her.”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>”It’s from the Warden, actually.”
Milo laughed. “Then next time ask for more.”<</if>>\
Tossing the pouch back to me, he leaned against the counter, hip cocked to the side.
“I was thinking I would go get some new clothes” I told him, picking at my tunic.
“What?” he laughed. “Tan not your color?” His eyes traveled across me curiously. Milo tended to look at me like I was a puzzle he had yet to figure out.
Looking at the state of my clothes, I sighed. The shirt alone now felt like sandpaper. I knew Hazel tossed it in the wash every night, but wearing the same thing day in and day out nothing but provide a steady reminder of the events surrounding my arrival.
[[You will be taking me shopping]]
[[Would you mind terribly escorting me?]]
[[I was wondering if you might want to help out?]]“Me telling Hazel that I think you’re cute.”
There was a brief flicker in his eyes but he controlled it before I could tell quite what it was. The slow curl of his lips though told me that my boldness did not go unappreciated.
“Also,” I said. “I think she may have given me too much money.” I tossed him the pouch of coins or bits or whatever it was they were calling their currency, letting him peek inside. He chuckled a bit as he hefted it in his hand.
I heard the jangling of the coin pouch behind me as Milo peeked inside, counting the contents. “Hazel can afford it, sugar. Stop fighting her.”
<<if $workforgabriel == "true">>”It’s from the Warden, actually.”
Milo laughed. “Then next time ask for more.”<</if>>
Tossing the pouch back to me, he leaned against the counter, hip cocked to the side.
“I was thinking I would go get some new clothes” I told him, picking at my tunic.
“What?” he laughed. “Tan not your color?” His eyes traveled across me curiously. Milo tended to look at me like I was a puzzle he had yet to figure out.
Looking at the state of my clothes, I sighed. The shirt alone now felt like sandpaper. I knew Hazel tossed it in the wash every night, but wearing the same thing day in and day out nothing but provide a steady reminder of the events surrounding my arrival.
[[You will be taking me shopping]]
[[Would you mind terribly escorting me?]]
[[I was wondering if you might want to help out?]]<<if $workforhazel == "true">>“Hazel explaining to me why I will be taking her money despite not feeling like I should.”
He looked down at the small pouch in my hands. “How much did she give you?” I handed it to him, not knowing how the currency of the Night Market quite worked. He peeked inside, counting the bits that were in there. When he handed it back, he snorted in laughter. “She can afford it. Stop fighting her.” I doubted fighting would do anything to get Hazel to change her mind, and knew that was the last thing I would be doing. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>”Hazel explaining to me that she strong armed the Warden for money. I think she is forcing me to take it.”
“Then take it,” Milo said. “Take all of it and then demand some more.”
“You’re not a fan of him, huh?”
“Absolutely not.”<</if>>
Tucking the pouch into my pocket, I looked up at him. “I was thinking I should probably get some new clothes.”
“What?” he laughed. “Tan not your color?”
I picked at the tunic. It was starting to feel like sandpaper. I knew Hazel tossed it in the wash every night, but wearing the same thing day in and day did nothing but provide a steady reminder of the events surrounding my arrival
[[You will be taking me shopping]]
[[Would you mind terribly escorting me?]]
[[I was wondering if you might want to help out?]]“You walked in on Hazel trying to figure out if I liked you,” I told him honestly. I expected surprise on Milo’s face. Maybe even embarrassment. Instead, he rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter with a shake of his head.
“Her obsession with my love life is a tad bit unhealthy. Don’t let her get her claws into you like that. She’s a hopeless romantic and wants sweeping theatrical moments to happen between couples so she can sit and reminisce about them over her evening tea. We are the best book Hazel has ever read.”
“Ah,” I said. “Well, she gave this book some money. I was thinking I should probably go get some new clothes with it.”
“What?” he laughed. “Tan not your color?”
I picked at the tunic. It was starting to feel like sandpaper. I knew Hazel tossed it in the wash every night, but wearing the same thing day in and day did nothing but provide a steady reminder of the events surrounding my arrival
[[You will be taking me shopping]]
[[Would you mind terribly escorting me?]]
[[I was wondering if you might want to help out?]]“You will be taking me shopping,” I told him. Raising my brow, I silently challenged him to say otherwise.
“Gettin’ feisty,” he commented. Rubbing his hands together, he looked intrigued at the prospect of an outing. Then again, Milo looked intrigued when given anything unexpected. “As always, sugar, I aim to please.”
He winked at me before hoisting himself all the way over the counter towards the back door in which Hazel had disappeared through.
“Haze! We’re going out!” he shouted. I startled. I hadn’t exactly meant now, but as Hazel peeked through the storage room door, she bobbed her head. “Have fun! Make sure $name doesn't get taken advantage of, Milo,” she demanded.
“The only one taking advantage of someone is going to be me.” When I raised my brow at him, he held up his hands in surrender. “Because I’m going to screw over the shop vendors. Calm it down, sugar. Calm it down. Bye Hazel my darling! Hope Billows doesn’t eat you while I’m gone.” The gray cat hissed at him.
Milo turned and hissed back at the cat.
[[You really should be nicer to Mr. Billows]]
[[Is there any other way out of here other than the alley?]]
[[What have you been up to? It’s been a few days]]
“Would it be too much to ask for you to escort me to wherever it is they sell clothes? I still haven’t gotten a lot of opportunity to explore the Night Market.”
“Darlin’, I will escort you absolutely anywhere. In fact, I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. Getting to know you and such. This is the perfect opportunity.”
Hoisting himself all the way over the counter towards the back door in which Hazel had disappeared through, he teetered precariously on his belly.
“Haze! We’re going out!” he shouted. I startled. I hadn’t exactly meant now, but as Hazel peeked through the storage room door, she bobbed her head. “Have fun! Make sure $name doesn’t get taken advantage of, Milo,” she demanded.
“The only one taking advantage of someone is going to be me.” When I raised my brow at him, he held up his hands in surrender. “Because I’m going to screw over the shop vendors. Calm it down, sugar. Calm it down. Bye Hazel my darling! Hope Billows doesn’t eat you while I’m gone.” The gray cat hissed at him.
Milo turned and hissed back at the cat.
[[You really should be nicer to Mr. Billows]]
[[Is there any other way out of here other than the alley?]]
[[What have you been up to? It’s been a few days]]
“Want to come with me?” I asked hopefully.
Milo’s eyes skirted the shapeless sack that I was wearing. “Not sure if I’m the right person for a fashion show, but yeah. Why not? Let’s spend someone elses money. Maybe make a bit more as we go.”
He winked at me before hoisting himself all the way over the counter towards the back door in which Hazel had disappeared through.
“Haze! We’re going out!” he shouted. I startled. I hadn’t exactly meant now, but as Hazel peeked through the storage room door, she bobbed her head. “Have fun! Make sure $name doesn't get taken advantage of, Milo,” she demanded.
“The only one taking advantage of someone is going to be me.” When I raised my brow at him, he held up his hands in surrender. “Because I’m going to screw over the shop vendors. Calm it down, sugar. Calm it down. Bye Hazel my darling! Hope Billows doesn’t eat you while I’m gone.” The gray cat hissed at him.
Milo turned and hissed back at the cat.
[[You really should be nicer to Mr. Billows]]
[[Is there any other way out of here other than the alley?]]
[[What have you been up to? It’s been a few days]]
Idly, we strolled out of the apothecary, down the small path of crushed gems and through the stone arch I had not passed beneath for nearly a week. We paused at the mouth of the alley, my gaze cast inwards as I saw the hints of movement just beyond the mist that formed at the entrance to each jutting path.
“Is there really no other way?” I asked.
Milo glanced at me. “They won’t hurt you,” he said in all seriousness. “Not unless you let them.”
“And how do I know if I’m letting them?”
“Don’t follow them into the buildings,” he said simply.
Stepping over the threshold, he tilted his head at me to silently ask if I was going to follow. Against my better judgement, I did. “Unfortunately, this is the only way in and out of here,” he said as we began to walk. “The design for Hazel’s home has always been a dead end. When this was a lively street, it wasn’t so bad. Now it just is a sad reminder of a very fucked up and terrifying day.”
[[What was it like before the fire?]]
[[Why doesn’t Hazel move?]]
[[Continue walking, wanting to get out of here as quick as possible.]]
Idly, we strolled out of the apothecary, down the small path of crushed gems and through the stone arch I had not passed beneath for nearly a week. We paused for a moment, at the mouth of the burnt out alley, but Milo stepped through without hesitation. I figured it was best to follow his lead.
“You know, Mr. Billow’s really isn’t that bad,” I tried. “I think Hazel is right when she says you two got off on the wrong foot.”
“The spawn of something foul and sinister will never be a friend of mine,” he said. For a moment, I assumed he was joking but it was clear that while his words may be dramatic, the intention behind them was pure.
“All because he scratched up your leg?” I asked.
Stopping, Milo pulled up his pant leg. Crisscross white scars littered him from ankle to knee. I could only imagine how brutal they had looked at the time and I hissed in sympathy.
“You and Hazel can keep your Mr. Billow’s fan club,” he said, letting his pant leg down and beginning to walk about. “While Bill and I see who outlives who because I can guarantee you, the first one of us who becomes an angry specter in this market, is going to haunt the other for the rest of their undying days.”
[[What was it like before the fire?]]
[[Why doesn’t Hazel move?]]
[[Continue walking, wanting to get out of here as quick as possible.]]
Idly, we strolled out of the apothecary, down the small path of crushed gems and through the stone arch I had not passed beneath for nearly a week. We paused for a moment, at the mouth of the burnt out alley, but Milo seemed to step through without hesitation. I figured it was best to follow his lead.
“So, what does Milo Next do during his free time?” I asked. I kept my eyes straight ahead as we walked. The smoke was less potent this morning, only a faint trace of it swirling around us. I wondered if it came and went in waves.
“Drinking,” he said with a shrug. “I have a few little taverns I frequent. Got a few cards games I’m involved in. Nothing much.”
“So you just wander the Night Market and occasionally play cards?”
“Well when you put it like that it sounds pathetic,” he looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. “You calling me pathetic?”
[[(panic) What? No!]]
[[(tease) Yes]]
[[You’re avoiding the question]]
“No,” I said immediately, panic coloring my tone. I didn’t want him to think I was making fun of him. I was genuinely curious what he did. What anyone did around here for fun.
“Easy,” he laughed. “I’m joking.”
I nodded my head a little, feeling a bit more at ease.
“Look, I’m not an entirely fascinating guy,” he said. “I know that seems like a lie, but I’m kind of boring when it comes down to it. Playing cards and spending my evening people watching is what I like to do. It's what I know.”
“What do you do for work then?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well now that, I think you might be able to guess.” Turning on his heel, he continued walking backwards down the alley. “There is a reason the guards know me well. Thievery as a profession gets you real cozy with those velvet coats."
[[Next|Chapter Three 3]]I wondered if this worked on others. The fast talking. Milo tended to talk his way around any situation that he didn’t want to address. I had seen him do it with Hazel. He had certainly done it with me. I wondered if that’s how he got through life. Talking circles around everyone else until he tripped in his own tangle.
“I can’t help but notice how you avoided the question,” I said to him.
“You are astute,” he agreed. “It is a likable quality of yours.”
“Milo.”
“Yes?”
I tilted my head to the side. “I am going to be forced into thinking you do something entirely nefarious if you choose not to answer.”
Turning on his heel, he grinned at me, walking backwards with an easy gait. “Maybe you're not entirely wrong."
[[Next|Chapter Three 3]]I laughed at him. It felt foreign, given our surroundings and I couldn't help but noice how the echoe of it was swallowed somewhere within the buildings.
“Yes,” I responded. “Absolutely.”
He placed a hand over his heart, stumbling a bit. “I am wounded, darlin'. How could you be so cruel?"
“It’s in my nature.” I fell into step beside him, taking in the way his hands were shoved in his pockets and his shoulders were relaxed. There was a careful sense of nonchalance about him.
“Look, I’m not an entirely fascinating guy,” he said. “I know that seems like a lie, but I’m kind of boring when it comes down to it. Playing cards and spending my evening people watching is what I like to do. It's what I know.”
“What do you do for work then?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well now that, I think you might be able to guess.” Turning on his heel, he continued walking backwards down the alley. “There is a reason the guards know me well. Thievery as a profession gets you real cozy with those velvet coats."
[[Next|Chapter Three 3]]We emerged from the burnt alley and into the small square with the three-tiered fountain. A couple sat on the moss covered edge, two women who had soft eyes and gazes only for each other. They trailed their hands within the water, a pink sheen falling from their fingers tips to tinge the liquid a soft pastel rose. Ambrosia hung heavily in the air, weeping from their skin in a fine sheen. Their outfits were made of soft linen with lace and ruffles. When a man came out to join them, kissing them both in turn, I adverted my gaze.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” Milo chuckled.
“Is that common here?” I asked.
“Love? I’d say it’s probably common wherever hormones exist.”
“No,” I told him. “That. More than two in a relationship.”
“Oh,” he frowned, craning his neck and looking over his shoulder at the three. They had their hands clasp together, and their conversation was low and intimate. “I mean, I guess? I never really thought about it. You just kind of love who you love here. I hear it’s not like that in all worlds.”
I didn’t know if it was. When I saw the three of them, I had a mixture of feelings. One of them being complication. But the other being devotion. It was odd. And perhaps something I didn’t need to think about yet. The idea of one partner felt like a thin thought somewhere in the distant future. When life settled. Or perhaps when I understood what life meant.
Then again, comfort didn’t necessarily sound like a bad option either.
[[Are you in a relationship?]]
[[What do you mean you love who you love]]
[[Sorry, I was just caught off guard there]]
I took a hesitant look around. The alley was so charred that it was crumbling. I couldn’t imagine what this place would have been like before. I wondered if it was vibrant. If it had once been a place where people wandered for an afternoon, shop window lit with a soft glow, big barrels of herbs and cut flowers on display outside the doors. Now it only felt like a dangerous graveyard, calling out in a low hummed whisper for anyone passing by.
“What was it like? Before the fire, that is.”
Milo looked around, his eyes seeing a different world than what I observed. “Rich. Rich in color. Rich in smell and sight. This was the apothecary district. Each shop had a specialty and they were all so willing to help anyone that crossed through their doors. There was this constant smell of mulled wine simmering over the hearth. And sugared apples.” He laughed a little, pointing to a shop nearby. “That used to be Mr. Bromeliad’s. He had these candied oranges that he used to give me as a kid. I would take them back to Hazel’s and hide in this little alcove that she had in the backyard. The three of us would eat them constantly.”
“Three of us?”
His eyes ticked away and around us, the image of life and home that he described, shattered. “Yeah. Her brother.”
Before I could ask him anything further, he nodded up ahead. Right where the alley ended and the three-tiered fountain sat. “That fountain over there is actually the only thing salvaged from that fire. Hazel makes sure to come out and clean it from time to time.”
We emerged from the burnt alley and into the small square with the three-tiered fountain. A couple sat on the moss covered edge, two women who had soft eyes and gazes only for each other. They trailed their hands within the water, a pink sheen falling from their fingers tips to tinge the liquid a soft pastel rose. Ambrosia hung heavily in the air, weeping from their skin in a fine sheen. Their outfits were made of soft linen with lace and ruffles. When a man came out to join them, kissing them both in turn, I adverted my gaze.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” Milo chuckled.
“Is that common here?” I asked.
“Love? I’d say it’s probably common wherever hormones exist.”
“No,” I told him. “That. More than two in a relationship.”
“Oh,” he frowned, craning his neck and looking over his shoulder at the three. They had their hands clasp together, and their conversation was low and intimate. “I mean, I guess? I never really thought about it. You just kind of love who you love here. I hear it’s not like that in all worlds.”
I didn’t know if it was. When I saw the three of them, I had a mixture of feelings. One of them being complication. But the other being devotion. It was odd. And perhaps something I didn’t need to think about yet. The idea of one partner felt like a thin thought somewhere in the distant future. When life settled. Or perhaps when I understood what life meant.
Then again, comfort didn’t necessarily sound like a bad option either.
[[Are you in a relationship?]]
[[What do you mean you love who you love]]
[[Sorry, I was just caught off guard there]]
“I don’t understand. Why doesn’t she move?”
I took a hesitant look around. The alley was so charred that it was crumbling. I couldn’t imagine what this place would have been like before. I wondered if it was vibrant. If it had once been a place where people wandered for an afternoon, shop window lit with a soft glow, big barrels of herbs and cut flowers on display outside the doors. Now it only felt like a dangerous graveyard, calling out in a low hummed whisper for anyone passing by.
“She grew up in that house. Was born there. I know it holds some bad memories and the location isn’t great but she has worked her ass off to change everything about it. Every floor board that held something bad was removed.” He shook his head. “You have no idea the amount of walls I have taken out for her and rebuilt.”
I did notice a distinct pattern change around the apothecary. Old wallpaper suddenly bleeding into fresh paint.
“She won’t move from there,” he said. “I think for every bad memory there is an equally good one. Plus, it’s Hazel. She sees the good even with the bad.”
We emerged from the burnt alley and into the small square with the three-tiered fountain. A couple sat on the moss covered edge, two women who had soft eyes and gazes only for each other. They trailed their hands within the water, a pink sheen falling from their fingers tips to tinge the liquid a soft pastel rose. Ambrosia hung heavily in the air, weeping from their skin in a fine sheen. Their outfits were made of soft linen with lace and ruffles. When a man came out to join them, kissing them both in turn, I adverted my gaze.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” Milo chuckled.
“Is that common here?” I asked.
“Love? I’d say it’s probably common wherever hormones exist.”
“No,” I told him. “That. More than two in a relationship.”
“Oh,” he frowned, craning his neck and looking over his shoulder at the three. They had their hands clasp together, and their conversation was low and intimate. “I mean, I guess? I never really thought about it. You just kind of love who you love here. I hear it’s not like that in all worlds.”
I didn’t know if it was. When I saw the three of them, I had a mixture of feelings. One of them being complication. But the other being devotion. It was odd. And perhaps something I didn’t need to think about yet. The idea of one partner felt like a thin thought somewhere in the distant future. When life settled. Or perhaps when I understood what life meant.
Then again, comfort didn’t necessarily sound like a bad option either.
[[Are you in a relationship?]]
[[What do you mean you love who you love]]
[[Sorry, I was just caught off guard there]]
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t hear myself breathe. There was something about the alley that was oppressive. A state of being that crushed any feeling of joy, sinking the ones they had in their clutches further and further into a fugue. I glanced at Milo, wondering if he felt it too. The man was wary and kept his head faced forward, but I could see the skittering of his eyes as he scanned each shop, looking for any sign of trouble.
Quickening my steps, I focused on getting in and out of this alley. Maybe there was something I could wear to protect me in the future if I had to travel through here. Or maybe Hazel had a different way around it all. I couldn’t imagine having to traverse this stretch every day. Or even once a week.
We emerged from the burnt alley and into the small square with the three-tiered fountain. A couple sat on the moss covered edge, two women who had soft eyes and gazes only for each other. They trailed their hands within the water, a pink sheen falling from their fingers tips to tinge the liquid a soft pastel rose. Ambrosia hung heavily in the air, weeping from their skin in a fine sheen. Their outfits were made of soft linen with lace and ruffles. When a man came out to join them, kissing them both in turn, I adverted my gaze.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” Milo chuckled.
“Is that common here?” I asked.
“Love? I’d say it’s probably common wherever hormones exist.”
“No,” I told him. “That. More than two in a relationship.”
“Oh,” he frowned, craning his neck and looking over his shoulder at the three. They had their hands clasp together, and their conversation was low and intimate. “I mean, I guess? I never really thought about it. You just kind of love who you love here. I hear it’s not like that in all worlds.”
I didn’t know if it was. When I saw the three of them, I had a mixture of feelings. One of them being complication. But the other being devotion. It was odd. And perhaps something I didn’t need to think about yet. The idea of one partner felt like a thin thought somewhere in the distant future. When life settled. Or perhaps when I understood what life meant.
Then again, comfort didn’t necessarily sound like a bad option either.
[[Are you in a relationship?]]
[[What do you mean you love who you love]]
[[Sorry, I was just caught off guard there]]
As we passed by the couple and ducked into a nearby alley, I watched as Milo jumped up, hitting one of the lanterns. It swayed lazily at his touch, the light flooding the cobblestone streets. He looked at me with a raised brow.
“Are you in a relationship?” I asked.
It was not what he had been expecting me to ask and he stopped, feet skidding on the cobblestones. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Not exactly the conversation I thought we’d be having. Uh, no. I’m not. Not for a long while at least.”
“Bad breakup?”
He moved his head contemplatively, mulling the words around on his tongue. “Not really. I think I just have a different view on things. Relationships demand a level of honesty. Someone expects things out of you in a relationship. It's not that I shy away from that but it’s been easy to just have fun. Haven’t really found anyone I would want to do the vulnerable thing with again. Besides,” he said, continuing to walk. “I’m not a one man kind of guy. It’s a turn-off for some.”
The lights above us flickered, dipping down lower across the alley. Both Milo and I had to duck out of the way. I fell silent as we continued to walk, letting my mind wander. The steady walls on either side of me staved off the feeling of helplessness that continued to linger from the beach.
“Deep thoughts?” Milo asked as I lapsed into silence.
[[I feel like my life is on hold]]
[[I wish I could remember more of who I am]]
[[Same old, same old]]As we passed by the couple and ducked into a nearby alley, I watched as Milo jumped up, hitting one of the lanterns. It swayed lazily at his touch, the light flooding the cobblestone streets. He looked at me with a raised brow.
“What does that mean? You love who you love.”
“It’s a saying. People travel here sometimes and they get to talkin’. Not all worlds have the same views on love and life as people of the Night Market do. Life can span into eternity for some individuals here. It’s hard to have hang-ups on sexuality or certain preferences. So, a lot of Night Market borns just say you love who you love. No judgement. Different species, different races, multiple races. Who cares? As long as you’re not hurting anyone, probably shouldn’t be anyone's business anyway.”
I didn’t say anything to that. There wasn’t much to say. He was right in the respect that it was probably no one's business to begin with.
The lights above us flickered, dipping down lower across the alley. Both Milo and I had to duck out of the way. I fell silent as we continued to walk, letting my mind wander. The steady walls on either side of me staved off the feeling of helplessness that continued to linger from the beach.
“Deep thoughts?” Milo asked as I lapsed into silence.
[[I feel like my life is on hold]]
[[I wish I could remember more of who I am]]
[[Same old, same old]]As we passed by the couple and ducked into a nearby alley, I watched as Milo jumped up, hitting one of the lanterns. It swayed lazily at his touch, the light flooding the cobblestone streets. He looked at me with a raised brow.
“Sorry,” I told him. “That just caught me off guard back there.”
“Magical gates open and let strange looking individuals through on a daily, but love caught you off guard?” he asked, amused.
“Everything is catching me off guard,” I told him honestly.
To that, he conceded. Because the Night Market was one big miasma of things I didn’t understand or had never thought of before. How could I not stumble every once in a while.
The lights above us flickered, dipping down lower across the alley. Both Milo and I had to duck out of the way. I fell silent as we continued to walk, letting my mind wander. The steady walls on either side of me staved off the feeling of helplessness that continued to linger from the beach.
“Deep thoughts?” Milo asked as I lapsed into silence.
[[I feel like my life is on hold]]
[[I wish I could remember more of who I am]]
[[Same old, same old]]I scrunched up my face, looking up towards the swaying lanterns. They were fading from their typical amber into reflective surfaces. Dull light bounced back and forth between each lantern, following us down the alley.
“I feel like my entire life is on hold,” I told him. “Like, I can’t do anything or make any decisions because if I do, it’s like I’m giving up on trying to find a way home.”
“You could see it like that,” Milo agreed. “Or, you can just live the life you have right now. Don’t let what could happen get in the way of what is happening.”
“How so?”
He shrugged, hands deep within his pockets now, that odd cigarette plucked from behind his ear and dangling from his lips. “Here’s the thing. Yeah. You are trying to get back home. You don’t know how you’re going to do it or if it is possible. So, you could live your life in this state where you kind of only focus on getting through your day until you get a lead. But, that also means you are going to live in this monotonous uncertainty for quite a while. Years, if we’re being brutal.”
“I’d rather you not,” I muttered.
He snickered at that. “Or,” he continued. “You could start living a life here. Enjoying yourself. And know that you are still trying to find your way back home, but you’re not giving the fucker that did this to you the satisfaction of your misery.”
I tilted my head upwards. “You really think someone brought me here to be miserable?”
“What other reason does someone have to rob someone from their home? They’ve got to be some low life son of a bitch.”
I looked down at my feet. Dirty slippers that had been soaked in sand and see over a week ago and now were caked with the soot of Hazel’s alley.
[[I don’t know if I can give up. Because giving into life here feels like I’m giving up.]]
[[You’re probably right. I need to start enjoying my own life since we don’t know when I’ll get home.]]
[[I hate whoever brought me here.]]
I scrunched up my face, looking up towards the swaying lanterns. They were fading from their typical amber into reflective surfaces. Dull light bounced back and forth between each lantern, following us down the alley.
“I wish I could remember more of who I am,” I admitted. So much of my thoughts were consumed with this little voice that was constantly reminding me that I didn’t know if I liked something. I didn’t know if I had a mother, a father, a boyfriend or girlfriend. A friend that meant more to me than life itself. A pet. A house. A relationship with anyone outside a woman who knitted an orange quilt for me. Every answer I gave to a question felt as if I was making it up on the spot. Or answering on instinct, which then caused me to second guess everything I believed all over again.
“What would you do if you could?” Milo asked, his tone genuinely curious.
“Remember who I am?”
“Yeah. What do you think would be different between the you now and the you that could remember?”
[[Nothing. I guess.]]
[[I would have a sense of community. A sense of self.]]
[[I may be able to remember who brought me here and why?]]
“It’s nothing new,” I told him. “Just a lot of frustration on the situation I’m in. And a type of paranoia that suggests maybe I’m at fault for this all?”
Milo nodded his head. “I get that. Frustrating pie you’re being forced to eat. Don’t think anyone could disagree with you.”
“But?” I asked. I could hear it, just at the tip of his tongue. He grinned at that. Pleased that I had picked up on it. Milo talked a lot of shit but he said even more with his silence.
“You’ve got a choice, and it’s not a great one,” Milo started. “Way I see it, you can either fixate on this memory thing and let it consume you. Or, you can start living your life here. Because here is where you are at. At least for the time being. Doesn’t mean you have to give up, but…” he shrugged. “Maybe if you start living your life like this is where you belong, the wait for finding out about whatever happened to you, won’t seem so terrible.”
[[I don’t know if I can give up. Because giving into life here feels like I’m giving up.]]
[[You’re probably right. I need to start enjoying my own life since we don’t know when I’ll get home.]]
[[I hate whoever brought me here.]]Above us, the lanterns flickered in a turning prismatic sea of reflective light against concrete stone. It was beautiful in an odd way, and disorienting all at once. Somehow, the chaos of it all felt a fitting tale of my own mind. Stopping here to have this conversation felt kismet.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I told him softly. “Giving into life here in the Night Market feels like giving up on whatever life I used to have. And maybe it wasn’t a good life. Maybe being here is infinitely better than what I used to have. But I don’t know. Something was taken from me when I passed through those gates, and it’s a violation that I don’t know how to let go of.”
“But are you just going to live your life in wait until then?” he challenged. There was something desperate in his tone that I couldn’t quite place. I wondered if he had been through this with someone before.
“I don’t know,” I repeated. “Maybe I’ll change my mind. Maybe I won’t. But giving into the life here feels wrong somehow. I don’t know how to explain it.”
I could tell that my answer was not what he wanted to hear. The look that crossed his face was a deep, contemplative one that was souring into a verdict that he sorely did not like. But I had no better answer for him. I was afraid if I started making connections here, a life here, it would distract me from what I needed to do. Either that, or the time would come that I would be given the chance to go home, and I suddenly wouldn’t want to.
With a sigh, Milo nodding my head. I didn’t know if he accepted my words, but he certainly wasn’t going to argue them with me. “Alright, as your friend, I’ll not try to convince you otherwise.”
“You kind of seem like the type of man that will.”
“Oh, I most certainly will. But I thought it would be a nice gesture to at least pretend like I agree with you and that I’m not about to knock your socks off with what the Night Market has to offer. Starting with the Fashion District.” Waving his arms like some open shirt magician, Milo stepped aside. The alley ended, opening up before me into an expanse of land, the likes of which I had never quite seen.
[[Next|Chapter Three 4]]
Above us, the lanterns flickered in a turning prismatic sea of reflective light against concrete stone. It was beautiful in an odd way, and disorienting all at once. Somehow, the chaos of it all felt a fitting tale of my own mind. Stopping here to have this conversation felt kismet.
“You’re probably right,” I said after a long moment.
“I know I’m right,” he affirmed teasingly.
Life was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not. The Night Market didn’t care about my plight. I was merely a product of its whims. If I spent my time searching for answers and only answers, I was going to lose myself to something dark. Seeing as I already felt like I had lost so much, I knew that it wasn’t an option I was willing to entertain.
Mustering up a deep breath of encouragement, I nodded at him. “Alright, so help me out here. Show me how to start living my life. Starting with helping me get some new clothes.”
“Darlin’,” he drawled. “I’ll help you with anything as long as you continue to keep up that determination of yours. The fire is goddamn sexy. Which,” he stated quickly. “Is not a come on.” Then, that telling grin. “Unless you want it to be.”
I rolled my eyes starting to get used to Milo’s particular brand of charm. It was directed towards everyone and I did not think the man had much of a filter.
“Alright, darlin’. I’m about to knock your socks off with what the Night Market has to offer. Starting with the Fashion District.” Waving his arms like some open shirt magician, Milo stepped aside. The alley ended, opening up before me into an expanse of land, the likes of which I had never quite seen.
[[Next|Chapter Three 4]]
Above us, the lanterns flickered in a turning prismatic sea of reflective light against concrete stone. It was beautiful in an odd way, and disorienting all at once. Somehow, the chaos of it all felt a fitting tale of my own mind. Stopping here to have this conversation felt kismet.
“I hate them,” I said quietly.
“Who?”
“Whoever it is that brought me here. They stole something from me, Milo. They took my memories from me. And maybe they weren’t good. Maybe they were doing me a favor, but those memories were still mine. And they took them.” I swallowed thickly, feeling emotion welling in my throat. “Then they tossed me aside and hoped I would just be able to navigate this life completely alone.”
That was somehow the worst of it. Being tossed aside. It left a bitterness in me that was hard to contemplate. But I knew it was one that was burning in the pit of my stomach. A slow rage for a person I never even met, and who was out there somewhere, getting to live their own life, untethered of mine.
“You’re not alone,” Milo said. He wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was cast somewhere down and off to the distance, his hand cupped at the back of his neck. The cigarette hung loosely from his lips and there was something nervous about his posture. “I know it seems that way but you’re not alone.”
With that, he began to walk. Not leaving me, but just forward. Whether it was to give me or him distance, I wasn’t sure of. I followed though. Falling in step beside him, noticing how he couldn’t quite meet my eyes.
As the lanterns above us began to spin and the sound of a low thrum reached out to take us by the hand, I felt him relax beside me. Ticking my gaze back to him, I saw the Milo I was used to. The self-assured, flirtatious cad.
“Alright, darlin’. I’m about to knock your socks off with what the Night Market has to offer. Starting with the Fashion District.” Waving his arms like some open shirt magician, Milo stepped aside. The alley ended, opening up before me into an expanse of land, the likes of which I had never quite seen.
[[Next|Chapter Three 4]]
“I suppose nothing.” There was no guarantee that memories would change a thing. Events were what they were and I doubted knowing the specifics would change anything. Especially if whoever brought me here was more powerful. In the end, knowing who I was, was for my benefit alone.
The rational part of me still said that was worth it. While the defeatist in me was trying to convince me in the grand scheme of it all, it was not. And beneath these reflective lanterns, that began to play across my face.
“You’ve got a choice, and it’s not a great one,” Milo started. “Way I see it, you can either fixate on this memory thing and let it consume you. Or, you can start living your life here. Because here is where you are at. At least for the time being. Doesn’t mean you have to give up, but…” he shrugged. “Maybe if you start living your life like this is where you belong, the wait for finding out about whatever happened to you, won’t seem so terrible.”
[[I don’t know if I can give up. Because giving into life here feels like I’m giving up.]]
[[You’re probably right. I need to start enjoying my own life since we don’t know when I’ll get home.]]
[[I hate whoever brought me here.]]
“If I could remember who I was before this I would at least know who I am. Not knowing is worse. And I say that with very little conviction because I don’t actually know if it’s worse. Which just is uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable?” he asked.
“Yeah. It’s like I don’t know if I belong in this skin. I don’t know if the foods I eat are ones I like. I don’t know if I should be morally opposed to something. It’s like I’m some newborn baby that has all the knowledge of speech and movement and strangely an idea of how the world works, but I’m a blank slate waiting to still be molded and it’s terrible.”
He was silent for a moment. My outburst had rang through the alley as the ground beneath us became smooth and we passed several offshoots to others districts beyond. Milo’s steps remained even, his hands still shoved in his pockets, as he contemplated my words.
“You’ve got a choice, and it’s not a great one,” Milo started. “Way I see it, you can either fixate on this memory thing and let it consume you. Or, you can start living your life here. Because here is where you are at. At least for the time being. Doesn’t mean you have to give up, but…” he shrugged. “Maybe if you start living your life like this is where you belong, the wait for finding out about whatever happened to you, won’t seem so terrible.”
[[I don’t know if I can give up. Because giving into life here feels like I’m giving up.]]
[[You’re probably right. I need to start enjoying my own life since we don’t know when I’ll get home.]]
[[I hate whoever brought me here.]]
“If I had my memories, there’s a real chance this whole thing would be solved,” I told him. “I might even know the person that brought me here and why?”
“And what if you didn’t?” he countered. “What if your memories still left you in the dark?”
“But that’s the thing,” I practically yelled. “I don’t know. I don’t know if my memories would help me here. I don’t know if what I did wound me here or if I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t know anything, and it is frustrating as hell, Milo!”
“Whoa,” he soothed, coming to a stop. “Deep breaths, sugar. You’re looking a little like you’re gonna blow a gasket.”
“And why shouldn’t I?” I asked, feeling a bit helpless.
“Not actually saying you shouldn’t. If that’s what you want. I’ll support you in whatever emotional outburst you need as long as it doesn’t end in me carrying you back to Hazel’s and having to explain to her that on your first outing, you passed out. On my watch.”
I breathed. I sucked in deep lungfuls of air and ignored the odd looks as people passed by. Milo, in turn, waved at them all.
“Nothing to see here, folks. Just practicing for an upcoming street performance! You can catch us at the troubadour square every fourth and eighth new moon.”
It gave me time to gather myself. I wasn’t angry, per se. Just frustrated. The lack of memories was playing on me, and I wasn’t sure anymore what I was supposed to do to get past that.
Milo stepped closer when I looked back up again, pitching his voice low. “You’ve got a choice, and it’s not a great one,” Milo started. “Way I see it, you can either fixate on this memory thing and let it consume you. Or, you can start living your life here. Because here is where you are at. At least for the time being. Doesn’t mean you have to give up, but…” he shrugged. “Maybe if you start living your life like this is where you belong, the wait for finding out about whatever happened to you, won’t seem so terrible.”
[[I don’t know if I can give up. Because giving into life here feels like I’m giving up.]]
[[You’re probably right. I need to start enjoying my own life since we don’t know when I’ll get home.]]
[[I hate whoever brought me here.]]
A thin layer of magic bubbled against my skin and popped in my ears, only to be replaced with the lively sounds of vivacious chatter, along with buskers plying their trade. A persistent thrum of a mechanical whir rose from deep below. The floor beneath us was one long infinity of mirrors, reflecting the light from the lanterns above. I suddenly saw my own reflection a hundred times over and had the odd sensation that I didn’t know which me was me. Several others walkways were scattered about, all at various heights. Most of them were lined with stalls displaying finery and soft buttery tunics and coats, while the highest platform had people stomping back and forth. From my vantage point, I could see individuals quick change into another outfit when they reached the edge of their platform. Then, they turned on their heel and began the walk all over again.
Milo put his hand on my elbow, steadying me. “It’s a bit much, yeah?”
That was an understatement. The district was bustling. Everywhere I looked, long runways unfolded and clothing flashed from billowing dresses to short rompers to patterned trousers. Buckles and belts and shoes with flowers growing from the laces all danced along the reflective streets in a ghostly spectacle.
“Milo, some of these clothes are moving on their own,” I told him.
He laughed loudly at that. A deep belly laugh that had the corners of his mouth crinkling. “Magic,” he said. “It’s illegal, but boy do they turn a blind eye to its use here.”
There was a raised platform that was floating above us, slowly making its way around the district. An advertisement for several designers scrolled across the bottom of the dance floor. On top, dresses paired up with other dresses, while trousers bowed to cropped tops made of diamonds. They linked together to waltz across the stage, showcasing the movement of each piece. Several onlookers gasped appropriately, while others pointed out little bits they wanted to buy.
I stared at the sight before me, slack jawed.
“Keep your eyes forward,” Milo suggested. “Helps keep you from getting dizzy. There’s side mirrors too, but thankfully, most of the shops block those.”
It took a minute as we stepped out on the mirrored runway. Everyone around me was so much steadier on their feet. Glancing at Milo, I saw the light dance in his eyes. The chaos and the bustle of it all was titillating for him. This was the kind of place he thrived.
“What kind of clothes are you looking for?” Milo asked. He was leading me away from the main foyer of the district, further in where the floors became muddied, and the mirrors were ornate gold frames hung from the base of lanterns. The market stalls were different from the ones I had seen so far. Instead of shanty wood structures that looked two breaths away from falling apart, these were long runway strips cutting through multilayered tiers of workers. Men, women and beast hunched over whirring machines, sucking on pricked fingers. From what I could tell, the lower runways were where everything was made. The mid-runways were where the clothes began to be displayed and sold. And the top runaway was very clearly something I would not be able to afford with the small bits I had.
[[This place is a headache in the making]]
[[How do you navigate any of this?]]
[[Don’t let go]]
“This place is an absolute headache.” Everywhere I looked, I saw my own eyes reflected back at me a dozen times over. I didn't know how anyone could browse the wares here without throwing up.
“No, it’s fashion, darlin’,” Milo snickered.
I followed him with an expression that I was almost certain was permanently pinched, just so I could make sure I didn't tip off one runway and fall headlong into another. I had horrid images of me falling onto one of the sewing machines, ruining someone's hard work and possibly breaking my back in the process.
“So, what are we looking for today?” Milo asked. “Disregard everything you know about what you like or what you think you like. Now is the chance to start over.”
I thought about pointing out to him that I really didn’t know what I liked, but it felt a tad bit redundant at this point. Instead, I began eyeing the stalls. Everything felt a bit overwhelming. The fashion of the Night Market, from what I had seen, was layers. Layers upon layers of different colors and fabrics, all creating something chic and somehow stunningly put together. Aside from Belladonna, Milo was the least dressed I had seen within the Night Market.
“I don’t really know,” I answered him. “There seems to be a lot of options.”
“Start with the basics then. Pants, skirt or both?”
[[Pants|Bottoms][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[Skirt|Bottoms][$bottoms to "skirts"]]
[[Both|Bottoms][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]Everywhere I looked, I saw my own eyes reflected back at me a dozen times over. I didn't know how anyone could browse the wares here without throwing up. “How does someone even begin to navigate this place?” I asked him. Everyone around me looked like they walked with purpose. I had to stick out like a sore thumb with how absolutely lost I looked.
“To tell you the truth, I think most of them don’t know where they’re going. Fake it ‘till you make it,” he said.
I followed him with an expression that I was almost certain was permanently pinched, just so I could make sure I didn't tip off one runway and fall headlong into another. I had horrid images of me falling onto one of the sewing machines, ruining someone's hard work and possibly breaking my back in the process.
“So, what are we looking for today?” Milo asked. “Disregard everything you know about what you like or what you think you like. Now is the chance to start over.”
I thought about pointing out to him that I really didn’t know what I liked, but it felt a tad bit redundant at this point. Instead, I began eyeing the stalls. Everything felt a bit overwhelming. The fashion of the Night Market, from what I had seen, was layers. Layers upon layers of different colors and fabrics, all creating something chic and somehow stunningly put together. Aside from Belladonna, Milo was the least dressed I had seen within the Night Market.
“I don’t really know,” I answered him. “There seems to be a lot of options.”
“Start with the basics then. Pants, skirt or both?”
[[Pants|Bottoms][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[Skirt|Bottoms][$bottoms to "skirts"]]
[[Both|Bottoms][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]Everywhere I looked, I saw my own eyes reflected back at me a dozen times over. I didn't know how anyone could browse the wares here without throwing up. I found myself reaching for Milo, grabbing at his arm and tugging myself close to his body. “Don’t let go,” I said in near desperation. I was afraid if he did, I would be swallowed up in the surrounding chaos.
Leaning down, Milo bumped his nose against my ear. I could feel his breath on me. “Never,” he grinned. A shiver went down my spine and I clung to him just a bit tighter
As we walked through the district, I narrowed my eyes, trying to keep my focus forward like Milo suggested. I had horrid images of me falling off the runway and onto a sewing machine, ruining someone's hard work and possibly breaking my back in the process.
“So, what are we looking for today?” Milo asked. “Disregard everything you know about what you like or what you think you like. Now is the chance to start over.”
I thought about pointing out to him that I really didn’t know what I liked, but it felt a tad bit redundant at this point. Instead, I began eyeing the stalls. Everything felt a bit overwhelming. The fashion of the Night Market, from what I had seen, was layers. Layers upon layers of different colors and fabrics, all creating something chic and somehow stunningly put together. Aside from Belladonna, Milo was the least dressed I had seen within the Night Market.
“I don’t really know,” I answered him. “There seems to be a lot of options.”
“Start with the basics then. Pants, skirt or both?”
[[Pants|Bottoms][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[Skirt|Bottoms][$bottoms to "skirts"]]
[[Both|Bottoms][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]
“Alright, you like $bottoms. Now, corset, vest or neither?”
“Is the corset tight?” I asked.
“Tight or loose as you want it to be.”
[[Corset|Vest][$vest to "corset"]]
[[Vest|Vest][$vest to "vest"]]
[[Neither|Vest][$vest to "no vest or corset"]]
<<set $dailyattire to "true">>Milo raised a brow at me, surprised by my answer.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just never figured you for a $vest type of person. Now. Overskirt?”
[[Yes|Overskirt][$overskirt to "yes"]]
[[No|Overskirt][$overskirt to "no overskirt"]]“Nice,” he muttered. “Very nice. How about jackets. Long or short. You’re going to need one when the weather changes.”
[[Short|Jacket][$jacket to "short jacket"]]
[[Long|Jacket][$jacket to "long jacket"]]
“You are going to need gloves,” Milo said, looking over the stalls. “Doesn’t matter if you wear them or not every day. It gets bitingly cold on a whim here. They have your typical leather, lace and wool. We will probably start you with wool since you work for Hazel,” he said grabbing a pair of soft gloves that would have been beneficial earlier this morning. “Also, headpiece? You could do a hat, a scarf, a wrap? Just something to keep on you when it rains. Or wear it all the time if you want.”
[[Hat|Headpiece][$headpiece to "hat"]]
[[Scarf|Headpiece][$headpiece to "scarf"]]
[[Wrap|Headpiece][$headpiece to "wrap"]]
“I think that covers it,” Milo said. A bundle of clothes were in his arms, all of which he had plucked from the stands with a curt little wave and smile at the stall owners. They hadn’t said a word about his pickings and so I was assuming that was kind of how things went here.
Looking over the new clothes, I nearly reached out and touched them. They were in an array of different colors and patterns and I couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sight. It was already so different from what I owned.
Overall, the style I chose was more
[[Revealing, despite all the layers|Modesty][$modesty to "revealing"]]
[[A conglomeration of layers that fit perfectly. Not too loose or tight|Modesty][$modesty to "perfectly fitting"]]
[[Modest and comfortable|Modesty][$modesty to "modest"]]
It was more $modesty. I found that it suited me much more than what I was wearing and even though I didn’t have them on yet, I felt a sense of self return. No longer would I be in the clothes I had been in when I arrived. <<if $miloclothes == "true">>Or the clothes Milo stole for me.<</if>> Instead, I was in something that was mine. Earned with my money.
Or at least, that was the idea.
Frowning, I looked at the big pile. There was quite a bit there. Everything but shoes. “I’m never going to be able to afford all this.” It was a statement. While I didn’t know the currency system here, I was certain that the paltry sum inside the little pouch I had was never going to cover the vast amounts Milo and I had picked out.
Hoisting the clothes up higher in his arms, he began walking. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get you to try it all on and go from there.”
I frowned. “How do the stall vendors get paid? Or is it a communal thing?” I had taken from several vendors, from what I could tell, but none seemed concerned with my mixture of fabrics.
Turning halfway to me, Milo tapped a tag that was hanging from one of the garments. It was then that I noticed several of them, each brown slip of parchment with a symbol on each. All varying in size and shape. “End of the day, they get split up and the money divided. District keeps a portion to keep the mirrors up and running.”
“Up and running?”
“Clean,” he nodded down to the smudged floors. “You would think, with all the magic you can buy, a simple cleaning charm would be spread across the glass. But apparently it makes the integrity of the pathways weaker, and there was an unfortunate incident where the mirrors shattered beneath a bunch of patrons. Seven years of bad luck is not on anyone’s list,” he shuddered.
Milo led me towards a row of silks. They were draped across large walls of ornate glass that when tugged on, would offer privacy. I stepped inside, shucking off my old and worn clothes. They looked pathetic in the corner, crumpled and colorless. Nothing compared to the fabric that I slipped over my body now. Everything was made of some sort of cotton blend but was softer than I expected upon first touch.
I jumped a little as the fabric began moving around me, conforming to my body, widening and cinching in at every which measurement before settling against my bare body with a soft sigh. Blinking, I looked down at myself before turning to the mirror. My shoes were the only thing that was the same. The same tan stained slip-ons I had before.
That is until a pair of brown boots came tumbling in.
“Here,” Milo said. “On me. Working at Hazel’s you need something practical.” They were leather and laced up past the ankle. Practical indeed yet, somehow, matched the clothes.
Pulling on the shoes, I smoothed my hands over the fabric. I looked like I belonged.
[[Next|Chapter Three 5]]
Stepping out of the silken dressing room, I stared at Milo, my brows raised a bit as I silently asked his opinion.
He was leaning against a fogged mirror, his fingers tapping the glass surface with an unfamiliar rhythm, the cigarette hanging between his lips. When he looked up at me, a smile crossed his face. He nearly laughed when I turned in a circle, making sure he could see all the clothes we had plucked from the stalls together.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he whistled. “You look like you belong, darlin’.” I couldn’t have agreed more with his statement. With the bundle of tags in my hand, I stepped towards him. I didn’t bother to grab my old clothes.
“Uh, like I said. I don’t know if I have enough to pay for all of this.”
“Let me see.”
I placed the brown tags in his hand and followed him as he began shuffling through them, muttering numbers to himself.
“How do the shoes fit?” he asked.
“Good. Everything fits surprisingly good. Magic?”
“A little tailoring charm, I think.” Flipping through the tickets, he nodded to himself, running some sort of arithmetic through his head.
“What’s the damage?” I asked hesitantly.
“Well, let's see here. Carry the one, add the seven, divide it by the new moon.” He grabbed my hand and tugged, running through the last bit of the runway, leaving me to stumble after him. It wasn’t until I heard a shout behind us that I realized what was happening. It was too late, though. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me on top of him. I realized we were falling backwards, flat on a mirrored runway that tilted downwards.
The wind rushed by us as we slid down tier after tier of reflective surface, until we were in the sweltering bowls of the district, where the roar of the machines became almost deafening.
[[(Incredulously)Did we just steal all this?]]
[[(Laugh) Can we take the slide again?]]
[[(Anger) What were you thinking?]]“Did we just steal all this?” My eyes were wide, and my heart was pounding as I wondered if I would be able to claw my way to the surface to give each and every one of those vendors all of my money and the clothes back if I couldn’t cover it like I suspected.
When I looked at Milo, though, he simply placed a finger to his lips and winked.
I was just about to tell him that this was wrong. That I was in no way going to be taking part in his thievery, when a large shadow fell over the two of us. For a horrifying moment, I was sure that I was going to be dragged back to the guard.
“Milo!”
Milo’s eyes went wide at the bawdy voice. His name was boomed across the district turning several heads. I watched as Milo got to his feet and launched himself at the man before us.
“Feebus!”
The giant lifted Milo up off the ground to stare the younger man in the eye. He was tall, at least standing eight feet, if not more. His eyes were small flickering orange flames surrounded by black, set across a jovial golden face. His hair was wild around his head, looking as if it were made from autumn leaves, weaving in a tight braid around two curled forward horns that jangled with jade rings. The man wore nothing more than a pair of wide set trousers, his chest crisscrossed with thick banded tattoos, the likes of which looked as if they danced freely across his skin.
“What are you even doing down here?” Milo asked, laughing. He looked at the man with absolute reverence.
“What do you mean, what am I doing down here? Have you hit your head, boy?”
“No,” Milo laughed. “I mean here. On this tier. I thought you were too good for that now.”
“Bah!” Feebus barked. Several people working next to me jumped at the sound, messing up their stitches. “No one is too good for honest work, boy. Something I had hoped you would eventually learn, but I can see you still haven’t.”
Bursting from an arched mirror, several members of the Velvet Guard appeared. They were out of breath, their eyes wild as they looked around. When they spotted Milo and I, I almost ran. Not even one week, and already I was on the verge of being arrested.
“There a problem, lads?” Feebus asked.
“Him,” A tall man said, with a thick handlebar mustache. “He and his companion just stole nearly two hundred and thirty bits worth of clothing.”
“It wasn’t that much,” Milo intoned.
“He is under arrest, sir.”
[[Give the guard all the money I have]]
[[Run and try to hide. I would not be going back to jail]]
[[Stay quiet and hope that Milo could handle this]]I was laughing as we landed on our feet. The trip down had been exhilarating. Milo’s cheeks were red with exertion, and the glittering lights from up above had me turned the world in a dizzying wave. “We need to always take a slide to a new district,” I told him.
“Yes,” he whooped. “A new Night Market design. Don’t walk when you can just slide on in.”
We were both laughing, our sdes aching with the intoxication of the moment. Until a voice sounded from right behind us.
“Milo!”
Milo’s eyes went wide at the bawdy voice. His name was boomed across the district turning several heads. I watched as Milo got to his feet and launched himself at the man before us.
“Feebus!”
The giant lifted Milo up off the ground to stare the younger man in the eye. He was tall, at least standing eight feet, if not more. His eyes were small flickering orange flames surrounded by black, set across a jovial golden face. His hair was wild around his head, looking as if it were made from autumn leaves, weaving in a tight braid around two curled forward horns that jangled with jade rings. The man wore nothing more than a pair of wide set trousers, his chest crisscrossed with thick banded tattoos, the likes of which looked as if they danced freely across his skin.
“What are you even doing down here?” Milo asked, laughing. He looked at the man with absolute reverence.
“What do you mean, what am I doing down here? Have you hit your head, boy?”
“No,” Milo laughed. “I mean here. On this tier. I thought you were too good for that now.”
“Bah!” Feebus barked. Several people working next to me jumped at the sound, messing up their stitches. “No one is too good for honest work, boy. Something I had hoped you would eventually learn, but I can see you still haven’t.”
Bursting from an arched mirror, several members of the Velvet Guard appeared. They were out of breath, their eyes wild as they looked around. When they spotted Milo and I, I almost ran. Not even one week, and already I was on the verge of being arrested.
“There a problem, lads?” Feebus asked.
“Him,” A tall man said, with a thick handlebar mustache. “He and his companion just stole nearly two hundred and thirty bits worth of clothing.”
“It wasn’t that much,” Milo intoned.
“He is under arrest, sir.”
[[Give the guard all the money I have]]
[[Run and try to hide. I would not be going back to jail]]
[[Stay quiet and hope that Milo could handle this]]“You cannot do that,” I yelled at him, shoving him away. The smile that was on his lips faltered as he looked at me. “I will not be a part of your thievery,” I told him. “That’s not who I am.”
His head hung in shame, his shoulders drooping forward a bit. It struck me then, I didn’t think a lot of people called Milo out. Or at the very least, he didn’t care when they did. But I could see chastisement across his face.
“I… shit, $name. I’m sorry. I’ll go back up and pay for it. It’s on me.”
I was about to ask him if the money he would be using was also stolen. But I was cut off as a voice rang from behind.
“Milo!”
Milo’s eyes went wide at the bawdy voice. His name was boomed across the district turning several heads. I watched as Milo got to his feet and launched himself at the man before us.
“Feebus!”
The giant lifted Milo up off the ground to stare the younger man in the eye. He was tall, at least standing eight feet, if not more. His eyes were small flickering orange flames surrounded by black, set across a jovial golden face. His hair was wild around his head, looking as if it were made from autumn leaves, weaving in a tight braid around two curled forward horns that jangled with jade rings. The man wore nothing more than a pair of wide set trousers, his chest crisscrossed with thick banded tattoos, the likes of which looked as if they danced freely across his skin.
“What are you even doing down here?” Milo asked, laughing. He looked at the man with absolute reverence.
“What do you mean, what am I doing down here? Have you hit your head, boy?”
“No,” Milo laughed. “I mean here. On this tier. I thought you were too good for that now.”
“Bah!” Feebus barked. Several people working next to me jumped at the sound, messing up their stitches. “No one is too good for honest work, boy. Something I had hoped you would eventually learn, but I can see you still haven’t.”
Bursting from an arched mirror, several members of the Velvet Guard appeared. They were out of breath, their eyes wild as they looked around. When they spotted Milo and I, I almost ran. Not even one week, and already I was on the verge of being arrested.
“There a problem, lads?” Feebus asked.
“Him,” A tall man said, with a thick handlebar mustache. “He and his companion just stole nearly two hundred and thirty bits worth of clothing.”
“It wasn’t that much,” Milo intoned.
“He is under arrest, sir.”
[[Give the guard all the money I have]]
[[Run and try to hide. I would not be going back to jail]]
[[Stay quiet and hope that Milo could handle this]]Before anyone could say anything, I stepped forward. Digging the pouch from Hazel out of my pocket, I held it out to the guards. I couldn’t steal. It wasn’t in me. And while I knew that what I was offering wasn’t going to cover what I was wearing, it may be enough to keep me from getting dragged to jail before I could make it right again.
“Here,” I said. “We didn’t mean any harm.”
The guard, however, was not looking at me. They didn’t even glance at my offer. Their eyes were set on Milo.
Feebus stepped between us and the Velvet Guard, his thick arms crossing before his colorful chest. “Now, that’s just not something I think is going to be happening today,” Feebus said. “Think it’s time you all move on and stop harassing my customers.”
“But sir, we–”
“I know what you think you saw, but you didn’t see it,” Feebus said. “As proprietor of this district, I’m telling you to now leave.” His eyes flared, a fire glowing hot within them. Twine coals that each guard took heed of. “Do we have an understanding?”
They didn’t answer. With an exchange of looks, they backed away. It was doubtful they would be telling their Warden what transpired here today. If anything, they now looked as if they were trying to sell the misunderstanding Feebus so firmly stated this was.
When they were well out of sight, Feebus turned towards the both of us, clapping his hands. “Drinks!” he proclaimed.
Milo turned to me in question.
[[Who is this man?]]
[[We need to pay for the clothes]]
[[What just happened?]]I was not going back to the cells. <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>There would be no processing for me a second time around. More than likely, the orders for my return was to toss me directly into the pit.<</if>> At the very sight of their crimson jackets, I felt my body begin to shake as I turned on my heel to run. Milo caught me, though. With a gentle hold, he stopped me from fleeing.
“No,” I told him desperately. “Please. I can’t go back there. Not for something like this.”
“I won’t let you,” he said softly. There was an edge to his voice I hadn’t heard before. I stared up at him, watching as his eyes took in the scene before us, cold and calculating. All in reaction to my own fear.
Whatever he was going to try, however, never came to fruition.
Feebus stepped between us and the Velvet Guard, his thick arms crossing before his colorful chest. “Now, that’s just not something I think is going to be happening today,” Feebus said. “Think it’s time you all move on and stop harassing my customers.”
“But sir, we–”
“I know what you think you saw, but you didn’t see it,” Feebus said. “As proprietor of this district, I’m telling you to now leave.” His eyes flared, a fire glowing hot within them. Twine coals that each guard took heed of. “Do we have an understanding?”
They didn’t answer. With an exchange of looks, they backed away. It was doubtful they would be telling their Warden what transpired here today. If anything, they now looked as if they were trying to sell the misunderstanding Feebus so firmly stated this was.
When they were well out of sight, Feebus turned towards the both of us, clapping his hands. “Drinks!” he proclaimed.
Milo turned to me in question.
[[Who is this man?]]
[[We need to pay for the clothes]]
[[What just happened?]]I swallowed thickly. I knew my eyes were wide as I looked between Milo, Feebus, and the Velvet Guard. Everyone was at a standstill, the district waiting on bated breath to see who would blink first. Milo’s fingers flicked towards something he kept contained at his hip. I thought I saw the glint of a blade, his hand dancing over a sharp edge across his belt.
Feebus stepped between us and the Velvet Guard, his thick arms crossing before his colorful chest. “Now, that’s just not something I think is going to be happening today,” Feebus said. “Think it’s time you all move on and stop harassing my customers.”
“But sir, we–”
“I know what you think you saw, but you didn’t see it,” Feebus said. “As proprietor of this district, I’m telling you to now leave.” His eyes flared, a fire glowing hot within them. Twine coals that each guard took heed of. “Do we have an understanding?”
They didn’t answer. With an exchange of looks, they backed away. It was doubtful they would be telling their Warden what transpired here today. If anything, they now looked as if they were trying to sell the misunderstanding Feebus so firmly stated this was.
When they were well out of sight, Feebus turned towards the both of us, clapping his hands. “Drinks!” he proclaimed.
Milo turned to me in question.
[[Who is this man?]]
[[We need to pay for the clothes]]
[[What just happened?]]“Who is he?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice low so as not to offend the jovial man.
“Feebus is an old friend,” Milo said. “I knew he wouldn’t give two shits that we took some clothes from the stalls above. He has enough money to cover it.” I looked down at my attire. My entirely stolen attire. At least I still had my money for other things.
“So you just assumed this guy would cover the costs of everything?” I asked.
“No,” Milo said. “I //knew// he would. I have a running tab for life with him. Believe me. Feebus pays his workers well. They’ll probably get more than they even asked for to begin with. Why do you think none of them batted an eye when I started taking stuff?”
I fidgeted a bit. It did seem rather odd.
Sighing, I nodded. There wasn’t much I could do about any of it now. Not without making a scene. And as I looked at the giant standing not far from us, I couldn’t help but feel like that was the wrong move in the face of his generosity. He hadn’t even blinked when the guards came our way.
I looked over Milo’s shoulder at the giant of a man. Feebus was leaning over one particular table where several ratkin were piecing together just how they wanted a garment to be stitched. He was offering them advice, his big fingers running delicately along a seam.
“He owns this district?” I asked.
“Yeah. Best fashion designer in all the Night Market. You are lucky to have a Feebus design.”
I sighed. I had said I was going to get out more. To try and learn more about the Market. Make connections. What better way than with a very fortunate thief, and the world's most famous garment designer.
“Let's go have drinks with Feebus,” I proclaimed.
Milo pumped his fist in the air. “You will not regret this!”
[[Next|Drinks with Feebus]]“I’m going back to pay for these clothes, Milo,” I told him. “I’m not going to steal from people that worked hard to make these.”
“You didn’t steal from them,” Milo said. “I have a running tab for life with this man. Give the tags to Feebus and he will make sure everything is taken care of. Believe me. He pays his workers well. They’ll probably get more than they even asked for to begin with. Why do you think none of them batted an eye when I started taking stuff?”
I stared at him. “And you couldn’t have told me this before?”
He rubbed at the back of his neck, kicking at the ground a bit. “Okay, yeah. Hindsight on that says maybe I did a bit of a dick move there.”
Sighing, I nodded. There wasn’t much I could do about any of it now. Not without making a scene. And as I looked at the giant standing not far from us, I could help but feel like that was the wrong move in the face of his generosity. He hadn’t even blinked when the guards came our way.
I looked over Milo’s shoulder at the giant of a man. Feebus was leaning over one particular table where several ratkin were piecing together just how they wanted a garment to be stitched. He was offering them advice, his big fingers running delicately along a seam.
“He owns this district?” I asked.
“Yeah. Best fashion designer in all the Night Market. You are lucky to have a Feebus design.”
I sighed. I had said I was going to get out more. To try and learn more about the Market. Make connections. What better way than with a very fortunate thief, and the world's most famous garment designer.
“Let's go have drinks with Feebus,” I proclaimed.
Milo pumped his fist in the air. “You will not regret this!”
[[Next|Drinks with Feebus]]Looking bewildered between where the guards had disappeared and where Feebus stood a few feet away, my mind struggled to catch up . “What just happened?” Feebus’s laugh ran loudly at my confusion as he wandered off to give Milo and I privacy.
“I probably should have been a little more up front with you,” Milo said. “Feebus is an old friend,” Milo said. “I knew he wouldn’t give two shits that we took some clothes from the stalls above. He has enough money to cover it.” I looked down at my attire. My entirely stolen attire. At least I still had the entirety of my money.
“Why would he cover everything?”
“I have a running tab with him. Have since I was a kid. And he is head designer in this district and makes the rules so believe me, you are only taking advantage of his favoritism towards me. Why do you think none of them batted an eye when I started taking stuff?”
I fidgeted a bit. It did seem rather odd.
Sighing, I nodded. There wasn’t much I could do about any of it now. Not without making a scene. And as I looked at the giant standing not far from us, I could help but feel like that was the wrong move in the face of his generosity. He hadn’t even blinked when the guards came our way.
I looked over Milo’s shoulder at the giant of a man. Feebus was leaning over one particular table where several ratkin were piecing together just how they wanted a garment to be stitched. He was offering them advice, his big fingers running delicately along a seam.
“He owns this district?” I asked.
“Yeah. Best fashion designer in all the Night Market. You are lucky to have a Feebus design.”
I sighed. I had said I was going to get out more. To try and learn more about the Market. Make connections. What better way than with a very fortunate thief, and the world's most famous garment designer.
“Let's go have drinks with Feebus,” I proclaimed.
Milo pumped his fist in the air. “You will not regret this!”
[[Next|Drinks with Feebus]]
Feebus was large, but his voice was even bigger. After agreeing to have drinks with him, Feebus had practically picked Milo up and swung him around, much to both Milo’s amusement and chagrin. The designers shook their head at the antics and I noticed how a few of them called out to Milo, asking about his day. Down in the underbelly, Milo was well known. If the guards had tried to take him away, an uprising would have been at hand.
Feebus lead us out of the Fashion District and through a back alley where Milo and I followed, mostly in silence. Every person we passed, Feebus seemed to know. We were caught several times, waiting, as the man clasped both his hands around someone else, asking them how their partners were doing. How their children were. If they had gotten the boil lanced.
I avoided the answer to that last one.
When we had emerged from the alley, it was to a tavern lined district. I didn’t get a good look at it before I was ushered inside a small wooden hovel and taken down a set of cobbled stairs. It was here that Feebus ducked under the low hanging beams, his head brushing the roof. Situating ourselves in a small stone hole in the wall, the big man proceeded to shout our orders towards a bartender up front. One who looked at him with a glare and a middle finger.
“Me wife,” he said with a low chuckle.
I laughed, feeling a little relieved at that.
“How you doing, my boy?” Feebus asked, swinging an arm around Milo. “You haven’t been around as of late.”
“Been busy,” Milo said. He tried to shrug, but the heavy arm along his shoulder wouldn’t let him.
“Too busy for ol’ Feebus? That’s blasphemous!”
The drinks came to us on a large tray, the mugs themselves bigger than my own head. The spritely waiter that passed them out struggled to set them in front of everyone and gave me a grateful look as I reached forward to help him.
“Drink up!” Feebus said. “It’s all on me tonight.”
[[Free drinks? Of course]]
[[Sip politely. Not wanting to take advantage of Feebus’s kindness]]
[[Smile, but decline the drink]]I was not one to turn down a free drink, and given the time I had had thus far in the Night Market, I felt as if I deserved one. Milo had said there were good things about this place, as long as I was looking. Maybe drinks with the overzealous giant was one of them. He had kind eyes, after all. And a smile that was warm to nearly everyone.
Taking my tankard, I took a healthy gulp. It was warming with a slightly bitter aftertaste. I swore I could taste apples and something like rye within the bubbles. Across the table, Milo and Feebus was doing the same, though Feebus was already on his second tankard.
“Where did you two meet?” I asked, looking across the table at them.
“Bailed this boy out,” Feebus said with a hard clap on Milo’s back. It sent Milo’s ale spilling across the table and him scrambling for napkins to clean it up. “He was a scrawny little thing. All of ten?”
“Nine,” Milo corrected.
“Nine years old,” the giant shouted loudly. “Had been livin’ on the streets and somehow hadn’t got caught yet. When he did, the Guard tossed him in the pens and I bought his bail. Which was quite high due to him biting everyone that tried to get near him.” Feebus chuckled. “Had to carry him out of the docks by the back of his shirt. Should have seen him. Little hissing cat he was.”
[[(To Milo) You never said you were part of the bail blocks before]]
[[(To Feebus) And what was a young Milo Next like?]]
[[(To Milo) Let me guess. Arrested for thievery?]]I sipped politely at my drink. So far, Feebus had been proven to be more than generous. The clothes I was wearing were far more expensive than I had originally thought and I knew on my own, I would have only been able to afford the shoes at best. I didn’t want it to seem as if I was taking advantage of the man. Despite Milo’s reassurance, I still felt a bit awkward. At the same time, I did not want to turn down the drink either.
So I sipped. Across from me, Milo and Feebus were more than sipping. Feebus already on his second tankard.
“Where did you two meet?” I asked, looking across the table at them.
“Bailed this boy out,” Feebus said with a hard clap on Milo’s back. It sent Milo’s ale spilling across the table and him scrambling for napkins to clean it up. “He was a scrawny little thing. All of ten?”
“Nine,” Milo corrected.
“Nine years old,” the giant shouted loudly. “Had been livin’ on the streets and somehow hadn’t got caught yet. When he did, the Guard tossed him in the pens and I bought his bail. Which was quite high due to him biting everyone that tried to get near him.” Feebus chuckled. “Had to carry him out of the docks by the back of his shirt. Should have seen him. Little hissing cat he was.”
[[(To Milo) You never said you were part of the bail blocks before]]
[[(To Feebus) And what was a young Milo Next like?]]
[[(To Milo) Let me guess. Arrested for thievery?]]I smiled at Feebus as both him and Milo tucked into their drinks. I didn’t touch mine, however, and no one seemed to care. I didn’t want to have my head buzzing tonight. Not in a strange place and not after the excitement of the day.
“Where did you two meet?” I asked, looking across the table at them.
“Bailed this boy out,” Feebus said with a hard clap on Milo’s back. It sent Milo’s ale spilling across the table and him scrambling for napkins to clean it up. “He was a scrawny little thing. All of ten?”
“Nine,” Milo corrected.
“Nine years old,” the giant shouted loudly. “Had been livin’ on the streets and somehow hadn’t got caught yet. When he did, the Guard tossed him in the pens and I bought his bail. Which was quite high due to him biting everyone that tried to get near him.” Feebus chuckled. “Had to carry him out of the docks by the back of his shirt. Should have seen him. Little hissing cat he was.”
[[(To Milo) You never said you were part of the bail blocks before]]
[[(To Feebus) And what was a young Milo Next like?]]
[[(To Milo) Let me guess. Arrested for thievery?]]I stared at Milo. “You never said you had been a part of the bail blocks before.”
“Live here long enough and practically everyone gets arrested. At least once.” He took a sip of his ale. “I’d like to say you were special for your incarceration but in the end, your arrest might have just been a rite of passage.”
“You were a bail?” Feebus asked, eyes bouncing between Milo and I. “His bail?”
<<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">>“I don’t think he paid,” I said.
The burst of laughter that rang through the room was nearly as loud as the clap Feebus slapped on Milo’s back. Milo winced and we both knew his shoulder would be sore tomorrow. “That’s my boy. Best little thief I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.”<</if>>\
“$name came here without papers, Feebus,” Milo explained. “One of the wanderers that got through.” I looked around the bar, ducking down in my seat. No one here seemed to care, however. The only ones that seemed fickle about papers were the guards and they didn’t look as if they would be welcome at a place like this.
“Well now, I’m truly sorry about that,” Feebus said. “I’ve known a few of you. Had a couple employed for a while. It’s never an easy journey. But at least you got, Milo here. And I’m assuming Ms. Hazel. No finer folk to help you through the market than those two.”
“Ever heard of anyone getting their memories back?” I asked him hopefully. “Or finding the gate they stumbled through.”
“Can’t say that I have,” the giant said, taking another long pull from his mug. “But, the Night Market rarely works in the way we expect it to. Sometimes I figure that if a person doesn’t have their memories, it’s for a reason.”
My stomach sank. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought of that either. It was just different hearing it.
[[What kind of work did he do for you, Feebus]]
[[I can’t imagine you being young and living on the streets]]
[[It sounds like you two are family of sorts]]I realized at this moment that I had a golden opportunity. A rare chance to get a glimpse into who Milo Next truly was. Leaning back in my seat I felt nearly giddy with the opportunity.
“Tell me, Feebus. What was a young Milo actually like?”
“Terrible.” Feebus roared with laughter while Milo ducked his head, looking as if he was hiding from another slap on the back and a trip that was obviously heading towards memory lane.
“You think his hair unkept now, you should have seen him when he was younger. Blond curls that you couldn’t run a damn comb through. Wild child, this one was. Feral practically. But smart as a whip.” He looked at Milo fondly. Milo, for his part, was burying himself in his drink.
“There was absolutely nothing this boy couldn’t do. Used to think he had an in with some of the Baron’s or something with the way he got little jobs done. Then I just realized he was good at being whoever people wanted him to be.”
Milo sighed. “Or everyone else was just bad at guarding their stuff.”
Feebus’s meaty fists came down upon the table, nearly sending everyone’s drinks scattering. The bartender was shaking her head at her husband's antics, already pouring another round of drinks for the table.
[[What kind of work did he do for you, Feebus]]
[[I can’t imagine you being young and living on the streets]]
[[It sounds like you two are family of sorts]]Milo was staring down into his drink, looking comically dwarfed when sitting next to the giant. Despite his embarrassment every time Feebus spoke, the man clearly looked up to the fashion designer. If he had been the one to take Milo off the streets, then the kinship that was there was unbreakable.
“Let me guess,” I started. “You were arrested for thievery.”
He smiled a little, a quirk of his lips that I was starting to think was more genuine than his full on grin. “Not quite that first time.”
“What was it for then?”
Leaning back in his seat, he mulled it over for a moment. The memory had been distant and one he hadn’t thought about for years. “I was impersonating a guard.”
“What?” I laughed.
“I wanted to get into a bar. I wasn’t old enough. So I thought if I put on a red coat and acted like one of them, they would look the other way.”
“The red coat though was something you found in a dumpster and was someone's bathrobe,” Feebus snickered. I saw the blush across Milo’s cheeks, butt his own laughter rumbled in his chest.
“Wasn’t too smart back then,” he said.
Mid-drink, Feebus shook his head. “Don’t let him be humble. He was smart as a whip back then. It’s why I employed him for so long.”
[[What kind of work did he do for you, Feebus]]
[[I can’t imagine you being young and living on the streets]]
[[It sounds like you two are family of sorts]]“What kind of work did he end up doing for you?” I asked curiously.
I expect thievery. It seemed to be Milo’s MO. However, Feebus just set down his mug and looked at Milo with an odd amount of respect. “He was my button sewer. Was an angry little shit about it, too.”
“My fingers still haven’t recovered,” Milo muttered.
“Wait. What?” I laughed.
Feebus nodded sagely. “Used to sit him on a stool and hand him a jar of buttons and tell him he couldn’t go home for the night until he got them all sewed across the garments coming through. Bitched about it in the beginning. By the end, though, that boy could sew the perfect button.”
Milo hunched over his drink, and if I didn’t know better, I thought I saw a blush on his cheeks.
“He tell you of the time he sewed his own pants to the table cloth on accident?”
“And we’re done,” Milo announced. “We are absolutely done.”
I laughed. “Oh, no! I want to hear this story.”
Feebus chuckled, drinking deeply from his tankard. I looked over at Milo. I hadn’t quite seen him like that before. Eyes adverted, staring deep into his own ale, hunched in his chair. The confidence he generally excluded wasn’t gone. Just deferred. It humbled him a bit. Gave a softer cast to him that I found I didn’t mind.
[[Next|Chapter Three M 3]]“It’s hard to imagine,” I started. “You being a little kid on the streets like that.” I wondered where his parents were. Why he had been alone. These were all layers to the man with the crooked grin that I hadn’t expected to uncover when I invited him to come shopping with me today.
“Yeah,” he said, “well, we all had to start somewhere.”
“You still living in that whiskey distillery?” Feebus asked.
Milo nodded. “Got the rust off and everything.”
“It’s a surprise you don’t smell like barley, boy.”
“A whiskey distillery?” It wasn’t until now that I realized, I had no idea where Milo lived. He came and went from Hazel’s, denying her offers for him to crash at her place each and every time. I knew he had a home but knowing now that he had started off on the streets, the things revolving around Milo seemed to be more like an unfolding mystery.
“Took up residence in one when I was still a kid,” he explained. “Was empty and after a year no one was claiming it, so I stayed. Free rent and all that.”
“Spider infested,” Feebus said.
“Aw, don’t be like that Feebus.” Leaning forward, Milo whispered conspiratorially at me. “Feebus here doesn’t like spiders. Big guy like him goes screaming in the night over them.”
“I do not scream, Milo. I bellow.”
[[Next|Chapter Three M 3]]“You two sound close,” I said. “A lot like family.”
There was something I had noticed about Milo when he let his guard down. He was softer around the edges. His shoulders were less tight, his smile much more at ease. The show he performed for others was a beautiful mask full of constant adventure and coy looks. But, it didn’t look as if that was all to him.
“Boy is like a son to me,” Feebus grinned. “A really short son.”
“I am not short.”
“Compared to me, you are, half pint! Tiny as the ant in a mound.”
“You’ve had too much to drink, old man,” Milo said, taking away his empty tankard. “I’m cutting you off.”
“No one but me wife cuts me off.” Feebus cast his gaze towards the bar. The woman was staring at him with a narrowed gaze. “Aw shit, she’s gonna cut me off.”
I snorted loudly at that, laughing the woman’s nod from behind the bar.
[[Next|Chapter Three M 3]]Feebus’s arm was draped over the back of Milo’s chair. “For as much of a lout as he was back in the day, I will admit that I am damn proud of this boy,” he said. Milo turned to look at him, surprise coloring his eyes. “Brought himself up from nothing, he did. Running around with those Albright’s was probably the only thing that saved him but…” From across the tavern, a woman called out, sending Feebus’s spine straight.
“Is that Tort?” Milo squinted. He wasn’t looking at the severe woman behind the bar.
“Ah, yes. If you two will excuse me.” I didn’t think it was possible for a man like Feebus to look sheepish. Yet somehow, against those ruddy drink laden cheeks, Feebus look downright meek.
As he rose from the table, the top of his head nearly brushing against the ceiling, he made his way over to a small and curvaceous woman. She stood on a bar stool, hands on her hips.
“Tort?” I asked.
“His partner. One of them.” Milo explained. “Tortolius Marie. Jazz singer and woman extraordinaire. Has Feebus wrapped around her pinky toe.”
I motioned to the bartender. “And her?”
“Calenda Marie. Haven’t officially met her yet. I think they were all married last year. But, yes, also wife. Also, woman extraordinaire. Also has Feebus wrapped around her pinky toe.”
I laughed. I could see the two women speaking to Feebus, and it looked like Calenda was most certainly cutting him off for the night. Feebus in return was pouting and making a steady go of arguing with her as to why he should have just one more. It was clear that neither woman was having it though.
Turning back to Milo, I relaxed back in my chair, looking at him a bit differently now that I knew a little more about his past. “So you were a street urchin then?”
Milo grinned. “A bit.”
[[Where were your parents?]]
[[Why didn’t you just live with Feebus?]]
[[I’m kind of surprised you didn’t go live with Hazel? Did you not know her then?]]
“Where were your parents?” I broached cautiously.
“Ran from them,” he said. “Well, ran from my dad.” He took a deep drink from his ale before setting it back down. His finger idly tracing the condensation running down the side of the glass. “I don’t actually remember my mother. Don’t know if that’s because the Night Market took the memory from me, or if its because I never had one. But I remember my dad.” A vacancy crossed over his face.
“Not a good relationship?”
“Nope.” He took another deep drink, licking his top lip and fidgeting in his seat. I kept quiet, taking whatever he wanted to offer, only allowing what was comfortable to pass between us. “I came to the Night Market on accident,” he said after a moment. “I was running. It was the middle of the night. Dad was here on business and I left his side. I didn’t even know I was somewhere else until a few days later. It had to be spelled out to me. I just thought I had run into the city. I had never been allowed to go there, so I just didn’t know any better.”
“How old were you?”
“Five. Maybe seven? I don’t know. Time gets a little odd here.”
My heart ached. Seven years old and lost in a world he knew nothing about.
“You’ve been living on your own since you were seven?”
“Yes and no. I mean, yes in the sense of, yeah, for a while. But I had Hazel. She’d come visit me. And then when Feebus bought my bail, he kept me working for years. Made sure if I ever ran short on anything, he’d help me get it. He wasn’t as big in the industry then. But he gave me what he could.”
[[Reach out and take his hand]]
[[Sit across from him in compatible silence]]
[[You don’t have to tell me any of this. I didn’t mean to pry]]“If you had no home, why didn’t you just live with Feebus after he bailed you out?”
“He offered,” Milo said with a shrug. “But even as a kid I guess I was a proud son of a bitch? I don’t know. Father figures were tough for me to trust then. I think I still held Feebus at a distance because I was certain he was going to turn on me.”
I stared across the table, at the nonchalant way Milo spoke. I felt my heart ache for the young child he had been, scared and alone within the Night Market. Not trusting anyone.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing what else I could really say.
“My shitty life at that point is not your fault. Besides,” he nodded his head towards Feebus. “I learned. Feebus showed me not all dads are terrible people. Then, Hazel showed me that kindness is a choice. And another person taught me that those who choose not to be kind to you, are not worth your time.”
[[Reach out and take his hand]]
[[Sit across from him in compatible silence]]
[[You don’t have to tell me any of this. I didn’t mean to pry]]“I’m a little surprised you didn’t live with Hazel,” I confessed. “I don’t know why. I just assumed you two always knew each other.”
“Practically,” he answered. “I’ve known Hazel for longer than anyone else I can remember. But, her mother was a problem back then and even if I wanted to go live with her, I doubt that woman would have let me. Most likely would have sold me off for some coin.”
I looked at him in shock. I had gotten the sense that Hazel’s mother was a bit of a problem but never thought she would be someone to go to that extent. It was clear now why when speaking of her, Milo had no love lost for the woman.
“I lived with her for a small stint when we were all late teens. I had my place and all but I liked crashing over there. It was homey. It felt a lot like family, as I’m sure you can guess.” He was staring into his drink, swallowing thickly. It was then I watched him push the ale away, his fingers instead going towards the rings that were across most of his fingers, starting to fidget with them. “But, I like my own space. Also was kind of hoping Hazel would find someone and do the entire family thing herself. Still waitin’ on that one.”
[[Reach out and take his hand]]
[[Sit across from him in compatible silence]]
[[You don’t have to tell me any of this. I didn’t mean to pry]]Reaching across the table, I rested my hand on top of his. He startled, looking up at me with a raw and naked gaze.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that it’s not my fault but you were young and you shouldn’t have been alone. I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”
Milo stared at me. Just stared at me. As if he couldn’t quite comprehend what I was saying. Or maybe he hand’t been shown kindness since Hazel. Perhaps it was not something he was used to from a complete stranger. But, he didn’t push my hand away. If anything, he twitched his thumb upwards, to stroke the outside of my fingers.
“Do you know how I first met Hazel?” he asked.
“How?”
He grinned a little. “I kicked her.”
“What?” I didn’t know how anyone could kick Hazel. She was possibly one of the sweetest people I had the pleasure of knowing. I could feel it in my bones.
“Okay, before you attack me on her behalf, let me explain.” He set aside his drink, switching to a glass of water. The same sprite flitted to our table, setting down a small tray of food. Compliments of Feebus, I was sure. Slices of crisp red apples were set next to Milo and he happily began munching on them.
“I was running through the streets, I think trying to escape the guard. I don’t know. My memory is a bit fuzzy on that. But I was ducking down this alley when someone grabbed me by the wrist. I was a small kid. Like, embarrassingly small. So I did the only thing I could think of and kicked out at my attacker really hard. Now, unfortunately, said attacker was Hazel and she was smaller than me if that was possible and so I bruised her shin pretty good. But after she was done crying and I was done thinking I was going to be thrown in jail, we shared cinnamon raisin bread.”
“And that’s it?” I laughed.
“Thus began the greatest friendship ever told.” He leaned back in his seat, hands laced behind his head.
“Feebus said Albright’s. Her brother right? Was he with her then?”
His smile faltered then and I watched him reach for his drink. “Yeah. He was always with her during those days. Couldn’t let his younger sister run around town alone.”
[[Did you get along with him?]]
[[What happened to him?]]
[[I don’t think I’ve caught his name]]
I sat across from him in silence. I could see the emotion playing across his face and didn’t wish to intrude. I doubted this was how he thought his night would turn out. And while it was clear that he enjoyed Feebus’s company, a walk down this particular memory lane was plaguing him.
It was a few moments before he looked back up at me. I could still see the edge of pain lingering in his eyes but he was trying. Trying his hardest to shove past it and keep our night going.
“Do you know how I first met Hazel?” he asked.
It was a lifeline. I could see that it was. And it was one I was gladly going to give him. “How?”
He grinned a little. “I kicked her.”
“What?” I didn’t know how anyone could kick Hazel. She was possibly one of the sweetest people I had the pleasure of knowing. I could feel it in my bones.
“Okay, before you attack me on her behalf, let me explain.” He set aside his drink, switching to a glass of water. The same sprite flitted to our table, setting down a small tray of food. Compliments of Feebus, I was sure. Slices of crisp red apples were set next to Milo and he happily began munching on them.
“I was running through the streets, I think trying to escape the guard. I don’t know. My memory is a bit fuzzy on that. But I was ducking down this alley when someone grabbed me by the wrist. I was a small kid. Like, embarrassingly small. So I did the only thing I could think of and kicked out at my attacker really hard. Now, unfortunately, said attacker was Hazel and she was smaller than me if that was possible and so I bruised her shin pretty good. But after she was done crying and I was done thinking I was going to be thrown in jail, we shared cinnamon raisin bread.”
“And that’s it?” I laughed.
“Thus began the greatest friendship ever told.” He leaned back in his seat, hands laced behind his head.
“Feebus said Albright’s. Her brother right? Was he with her then?”
His smile faltered then and I watched him reach for his drink. “Yeah. He was always with her during those days. Couldn’t let his younger sister run around town alone.”
[[Did you get along with him?]]
[[What happened to him?]]
[[I don’t think I’ve caught his name]]
“Milo,” I started. “You do not need to tell me anything more. I really didn’t mean to pry tonight.”
He shook his head, leaning back in his seat. His fingers reached out to pick apart a napkin. “You didn’t pry,” he said. “And it’s not like I’m trying to keep this stuff a secret. It’s just not exactly happy memories for me.”
“Then tell me of a happy one,” I said. “Let’s shift our focus to that.”
He contemplated that for a moment, tapping his fingers in an off tune beat on the table. Then, “Do you know how I first met Hazel?” he asked.
It was a lifeline. I could see that it was. And it was one I was gladly going to give him. “How?”
He grinned a little. “I kicked her.”
“What?” I didn’t know how anyone could kick Hazel. She was possibly one of the sweetest people I had the pleasure of knowing. I could feel it in my bones.
“Okay, before you attack me on her behalf, let me explain.” He set aside his drink, switching to a glass of water. The same sprite flitted to our table, setting down a small tray of food. Compliments of Feebus, I was sure. Slices of crisp red apples were set next to Milo and he happily began munching on them.
“I was running through the streets, I think trying to escape the guard. I don’t know. My memory is a bit fuzzy on that. But I was ducking down this alley when someone grabbed me by the wrist. I was a small kid. Like, embarrassingly small. So I did the only thing I could think of and kicked out at my attacker really hard. Now, unfortunately, said attacker was Hazel and she was smaller than me if that was possible and so I bruised her shin pretty good. But after she was done crying and I was done thinking I was going to be thrown in jail, we shared cinnamon raisin bread.”
“And that’s it?” I laughed.
“Thus began the greatest friendship ever told.” He leaned back in his seat, hands laced behind his head.
“Feebus said Albright’s. Her brother right? Was he with her then?”
His smile faltered then and I watched him reach for his drink. “Yeah. He was always with her during those days. Couldn’t let his younger sister run around town alone.”
[[Did you get along with him?]]
[[What happened to him?]]
[[I don’t think I’ve caught his name]]
There was always something off when Hazel’s brother was mentioned. While Hazel had made mention of him a few times in the past week, Milo hadn’t said a word of the man. For someone that claimed to be around them so frequently, and who obviously was close to Hazel, I found it odd.
“Did you get along with him too?” I asked.
He nodded. “You could say that.”
Before I could continue, Milo motioned towards Feebus, a fond smile on his face. I could see the large man pluck Tort off the stool, carrying her to the middle of the dance floor. Tort giggled as he spun her around, the two of them knocking into a few others with their wild dancing. But instead of anyone becoming offended, people started to join in. Soon the floor was flooded with nearly half the bar as they all began to stomp to a steady beat.
I didn’t realize Milo had risen from his chair until he was right next to me. “Come on,” he laughed. “Better get out of here before they get my two left feet to dance. I’ll walk you back to Hazel’s.”
[[Next|Chapter Three 7]]
There was always something off when Hazel’s brother was mentioned. While Hazel had made mention of him a few times in the past week, Milo hadn’t said a word of the man. For someone that claimed to be around them so frequently, and who obviously was close to Hazel, I found it odd.
“What happened to him?” I asked.
It was clear that Milo didn’t want to answer. Part of me wondered if I should press. If I should look for more truths tonight. The other part told me that he had shared a lot. The man was clearly at his limit.
Before I could continue, Milo motioned towards Feebus, a fond smile on his face. I could see the large man pluck Tort off the stool, carrying her to the middle of the dance floor. Tort giggled as he spun her around, the two of them knocking into a few others with their wild dancing. But instead of anyone becoming offended, people started to join in. Soon the floor was flooded with nearly half the bar as they all began to stomp to a steady beat.
I didn’t realize Milo had risen from his chair until he was right next to me. “Come on,” he laughed. “Better get out of here before they get my two left feet to dance. I’ll walk you back to Hazel’s.”
[[Next|Chapter Three 7]]
There was always something off when Hazel’s brother was mentioned. While Hazel had made mention of him a few times in the past week, Milo hadn’t said a word of the man. For someone that claimed to be around them so frequently, and who obviously was close to Hazel, I found it odd.
“I don’t know if I’ve caught his name yet.” I said. I vaguely remembered Hazel mentioned it but it was only at the tip of my tongue.
Milo only shrugged. “It’s not important.” I frowned at that. I knew it was a lie and it wasn’t even a very good one. Not for Milo, at least.
Before I could continue, Milo motioned towards Feebus, a fond smile on his face. I could see the large man pluck Tort off the stool, carrying her to the middle of the dance floor. Tort giggled as he spun her around, the two of them knocking into a few others with their wild dancing. But instead of anyone becoming offended, people started to join in. Soon the floor was flooded with nearly half the bar as they all began to stomp to a steady beat.
I didn’t realize Milo had risen from his chair until he was right next to me. “Come on,” he laughed. “Better get out of here before they get my two left feet to dance. I’ll walk you back to Hazel’s.”
[[Next|Chapter Three 7]]
The night was cool and smelled of dew. Brightly lit taverns lined either side of the streets, their warm glow spilling out and making the wet cobblestone shine. The songs of each building blended together beautifully, creating one giant symphony of acoustic guitars and lilting muffled voices. I could hear Milo humming them under his breath, switching tunes with ease.
“Drinking can’t be the only thing you do in the market for fun.” The lanterns strung between the two lines of taverns were gold. Rivulets of water ran down their sides, dampening the paper that surrounded each light. The lanterns remained sturdy beneath the weight while the line began to dip down. “Be honest. What else does Milo Next to around here?”
“Oh, you know, normal things,” Milo said with a shrug. There was a raised section of stone. It formed a sort of barrier between the two lines of establishments. I didn’t know if there was a significance to it. And Milo obviously didn’t care. He jumped up on it, only about two feet off the ground, and began walking it like a tightrope. “Boating. Theater. McGlorgicutiun races.”
“McGlorigi-what?” The word was so ridiculous it barely fell from my mouth.
“McGlorigutiun races,” he said, staring at me as if it was the most obvious word in the world.
“You say that as if it is a normal thing.”
“It is a normal thing.” He skipped down the crumbling wall, his feet nimble on the narrow passage, tapping over loose stone and kicking away gathering debris. “What? You’ve never heard of the McGlorigucutin races?”
[[No one has. Because they’re not real]]
[[No?]]
[[Oh! Right. Mcgilicutty races. Where the prize is a bushel of bananas]]“It is really hard to hear of something that is not real,” I told him with a small grin.
“Of course they’re real,” he said enthusiastically. “I’ll need to take you to a race and show you.”
“Races at a fictional track? You really going to stick with this story?” I narrowed my eyes at him. Bouncing across the stone wall, his steps became lighter. The races shaking off the heaviness that had settled upon him in the bar.
“They take place on the outer tracks of the Tortin Courtin. It’s a square route where the McGloricuttins run and barrel their way around several obstacles made of tar. There are six lanes, but only four McGlorguns. They are bulbous creatures that have a tendency of splattering across the tracks, so the owners like to give them a bit of room. First to complete five laps is the winner and is crowned the leader of the Tortin Courtin race.”
“And what is the name of these creatures again?”
“McGlorginclootins.” He couldn’t hide the smirk on his face, or the way his body vibrated with barely concealed laughter.
“That’s not what you said in the beginning.”
“They’re name changes based on the weather.” Milo winked. “Do you need a flyer? We have flyers.”
“Oh? You have flyers now.” I laughed.
“I own a Mcglogin.”
[[Let the insanity continue]]
[[Thank you for inviting me out tonight, Milo]]
[[You, Milo Next, are certainly entertaining]]“I– No?” He had to be lying. There was no way such a thing existed and yet the name had rolled off his tongue with such confidence that it gave me pause.
“Oh, they’re awesome,” he said enthusiastically. “I need to take you to one.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, inspecting the way his facial muscles twitched. That amusement that I often saw lingering in his gaze was fully lit. “I don’t think they’re real,” I stated. Nearly feeling like a fool for having to even say so.
“I can tell you all about them.”
“Then do it.” It was a challenge. One that I was sure he would not be able to meet.
“They take place on the outer tracks of the Tortin Courtin. It’s a square route where the McGloricuttins run and barrel their way around several obstacles made of tar. There are six lanes, but only four McGlorguns. They are bulbous creatures that have a tendency of splattering across the tracks, so the owners like to give them a bit of room. First to complete five laps is the winner and is crowned the leader of the Tortin Courtin race.”
“And what is the name of these creatures again?”
“McGlorginclootins.” He couldn’t hide the smirk on his face, or the way his body vibrated with barely concealed laughter.
“That’s not what you said in the beginning.”
“They’re name changes based on the weather.” Milo winked. “Do you need a flyer? We have flyers.”
“Oh? You have flyers now.” I laughed.
“I own a Mcglogin.”
[[Let the insanity continue]]
[[Thank you for inviting me out tonight, Milo]]
[[You, Milo Next, are certainly entertaining]]“Oh,” I said, feigning surprise. I smacked my forehead for good measure. “Mcgillicutty races. How could I have been so naive? The winning person gets a bushel of bananas and a certificate of participation.”
He looked delighted over my words, bouncing on his heels and nodding his head enthusiastically. “Yes! See I knew you knew what they were. Mcglorvolins are the most prestigious animals in all the Night Market.”
I nodded in agreement. “They clear the streets for their parade.”
“And sing their praises every fifth day.”
“I do like how their names change so frequently.”
“They’re name changes based on the weather.” Milo winked. “Do you need a flyer? We have flyers.”
“Oh? You have flyers now?” I laughed.
“I own a Mcglogin.”
[[Let the insanity continue]]
[[Thank you for inviting me out tonight, Milo]]
[[You, Milo Next, are certainly entertaining]]Trailing along behind him, I hopped up on the cobblestone divide, hovering my arms out on either side to help keep my balance. “Are they expensive?”
“Terribly. Really not a good financial decision, but what can I say. I look at those big pink eyes and just melt. Utterly melt.”
Pink eyed, bulbous headed, horse like creatures, suddenly filled my mind. They pranced in a starlit field of wheat and made squawking sounds as they ran. “What do they eat?”
“Oh you know. The usual. Baked brie. Pinenuts. Puffer fish.”
I kicked out, bumping the back of his heel and sending him stumbling forward. He caught himself on a lantern post, swinging down around it and settling in front of me. I shook my head as I looked down at him. “You, Milo Next, are so full of shit.”
He seemed rather proud of the declaration. “And you, darlin’, are about to get soaked.”
The first drops of water speckled my shoulder before dripping down my arms. Looking up, I saw how heavy bulbs of water had gathered at the base of each lantern. Heavy droplets hung suspended beneath the gold light, fat drops threatening to fall across the market streets, soaking everything in its wake. It was not just one lantern. It was several. All along the streets, the lantern light was heavy with rain.
And then they burst.
The rain came down around us in fat golden drops. They splattered like paint against the ground, glittering against our wet feet. I covered my head, looking up at the large golden orbs above us. The water ran down the sides in rivulets, gathering light as they went before falling upon the cobblestones below and everyone unlucky enough to have been caught in its downfall.
There were several places to escape, including a wood awning situated above most of the taverns. They were small and slightly damp but they were out of the line of downpour. With any luck, we could wait out the storm with another pint and more chat about the McGulicutty races.
“We should get inside!” I yelled, running beneath one of the overhangs. But Milo was no longer next to me. Frantically, I turned my head, looking up and down the rapidly deserted alley, trying to find him.
[[Next|Dance in the rain]]Trailing along behind him, I hopped up on the cobblestone divide, hovering my arms out on either side to help keep my balance. “Thank you for tonight. It was nice to get out like this. I don’t know if I’ve laughed this much since being here.” Pink eyed, bulbous headed, horse like creatures, suddenly filled my mind. They pranced in a starlit field of wheat and made squawking sounds as they ran.
“I’m not sure if the plight of the Mcglurries is a laughing matter, but you are welcome all the same.”
I kicked out, bumping the back of his heel and sending him stumbling forward. He caught himself on a lantern post, swinging down around it and settling in front of me. I shook my head as I looked down at him. “You, Milo Next, are so full of shit.”
He seemed rather proud of the declaration. “And you, darlin’, are about to get soaked.”
The first drops of water speckled my shoulder before dripping down my arms. Looking up, I saw how heavy bulbs of water had gathered at the base of each lantern. Heavy droplets hung suspended beneath the gold light, fat drops threatening to fall across the market streets, soaking everything in its wake. It was not just one lantern. It was several. All along the streets, the lantern light was heavy with rain.
And then they burst.
The rain came down around us in fat golden drops. They splattered like paint against the ground, glittering against our wet feet. I covered my head, looking up at the large golden orbs above us. The water ran down the sides in rivulets, gathering light as they went before falling upon the cobblestones below and everyone unlucky enough to have been caught in its downfall.
There were several places to escape, including a wood awning situated above most of the taverns. They were small and slightly damp but they were out of the line of downpour. With any luck, we could wait out the storm with another pint and more chat about the McGulicutty races.
“We should get inside!” I yelled, running beneath one of the overhangs. But Milo was no longer next to me. Frantically, I turned my head, looking up and down the rapidly deserted alley, trying to find him.
[[Next|Dance in the rain]]Trailing along behind him, I hopped up on the cobblestone divide, hovering my arms out on either side to help keep my balance. “I will give you one thing. You are entertaining.” I couldn’t remember feeling this at ease since arriving. Even in the safety of Hazel’s home, with those small dinners at night, I was never left feeling as free as I was in this moment.
“I’ll take it,” he said. “For I have been called much worse in life.” Looking over his shoulder, he winked at me. “Not that I mind. I find the more vile the name I’m called, the more likely it is they are all secretly pining for a kiss.”
I kicked out, bumping the back of his heel and sending him stumbling forward a bit. He caught himself on a lantern post, swinging down around it and settling in front of me. I shook my head as I looked down at him. “You, Milo Next, are so full of shit.”
He seemed rather proud of the declaration. “And you, darlin’, are about to get soaked.”
The first drops of water speckled my shoulder before dripping down my arms. Looking up, I saw how heavy bulbs of water had gathered at the base of each lantern. Heavy droplets hung suspended beneath the gold light, fat drops threatening to fall across the market streets, soaking everything in its wake. It was not just one lantern. It was several. All along the streets, the lantern light was heavy with rain.
And then they burst.
The rain came down around us in fat golden drops. They splattered like paint against the ground, glittering against our wet feet. I covered my head, looking up at the large golden orbs above us. The water ran down the sides in rivulets, gathering light as they went before falling upon the cobblestones below and everyone unlucky enough to have been caught in its downfall.
There were several places to escape, including a wood awning situated above most of the taverns. They were small and slightly damp but they were out of the line of downpour. With any luck, we could wait out the storm with another pint and more chat about the McGulicutty races.
“We should get inside!” I yelled, running beneath one of the overhangs. But Milo was no longer next to me. Frantically, I turned my head, looking up and down the rapidly deserted alley, trying to find him.
[[Next|Dance in the rain]]Milo stood in the middle of the empty street, his arms open wide as he spun slowly beneath the rain. I stopped myself from calling out to him, watching him become soaked with the gold light above. His hair became plastered to his head, darker now with the stain of water. His mouth was open as he twirled, head tilted back without a care, catching the raindrops on his tongue.
“What are you doing?” I said, pitching my voice above the rain.
He paused, staring at me with water pouring down his face, the amber lights of the market illuminating him against the broken cobbled street. Pushing his sodden hair from his eyes, he slicked it back, holding out a hand towards me.
“Are you crazy? A storm’s coming,” I yelled at him.
His lips quirked up in a grin. “C’mere.”
[[Stay beneath the awning]]
[[Take his hand|Dance in rain take his hand]]“I’m not coming out there you crazy man,” I told him.
“I need a dance partner,” he said. I watched as his feet began kicking up the rain, moving throughout the alley as if it were his own personal stage. There was a vibrancy in his eyes. A moment in time that he held for his own as he let the world slip away. For a moment, Milo didn’t resemble the man I was coming to know at all. Beneath the golden rain, he looked young and alive, the burden of whatever weight life had put on his shoulders, lifting for one breathtaking moment.
I raced from awning to awning as he held up his arms to an invisible partner, twirling and dipping, making his way down the cobblestones and kicking at the puddles that were forming. His shirt was soaked through, and his eyes were bright. I wanted to save this moment. Remember it no matter what my memories told me in the end.
When the alley ended and the lanterns continued to storm, I looked up into the pitch of night. Past the golden light and towards where the stars were. I could see nothing beyond the moment, though. Nothing but a stitched sky and a paper moon that peaked out behind the thick tendrils of chimney smoke.
Stepping out into the rain, I kicked at the water, splashing Milo in the face. He wiped it away before lunging for me. The two of us took off down the alleyway, laughing loudly, are shouts echoing around us as the rain fell faster and faster. I could feel my skin become damp, Milo directly on my heels before sprinting past me. The ground beneath us was slick, however, and as we both skidded to a halt, we landed on our backs.
I turned my head, my face inches from his, laughter high on my cheeks. I could see his freckles up close and the small scar he had across his lip.
[[Thought you had two left feet]]
[[Where did you learn to dance like that?]]
[[Kiss him]]
[[Let him kiss you]]
My heart thudded against me chest. His hand was steady, the few stragglers on the street rushing past us, hiding under awnings and making their way inside the warmth of the taverns. Swallowing, I stepped down onto the street, feeling the rain soak my new clothes. When my hand fell into his, it felt right. An anchor in the upcoming sway of the storm.
Milo bowed deeply, kissing my knuckles before righting himself again. Swooping me into his arms, he held me against his chest, and began dancing through the streets. I stumbled against his feet, tripping over the fluid movements of his buckled boots. But Milo was nothing but persistent and led me on a ride that I was suddenly very aware, I was not going to be able to control.
His hand curled around mine, he spun me through the streets, passing brightly lit taverns and leading me in a waltz down the alley. Tilting my head back, I let the rain hit me, and felt the laugh leave my throat. The water cascading down around us, the sky lit bright with an amber light, and for a moment, I felt completely free.
We danced in the street that night. We danced until our clothes were soaked, and our shoes ruined. We stomped in puddles, kicking them up in wide arcs of gold light, painting the wooden taverns with iridescent dew drops that shimmered around us in frozen bubbles of crystalline gold. Milo laughed freely as he wrapped his arms around my waist, having chased me through the streets. We fell into a puddle, the glittering water splashing up around us as we both panted, face to face, laughter heavy on our lips.
I stared up at him, at the way the golden drops clung to his curls, sticking to his lashes and reflecting his gaze back to me.
[[Kiss him]]
[[Let him kiss you]]
[[Thought you had two left feet]]
[[Where did you learn to dance like that?]]
<<set $milodance to "true">>“I thought you had two left feet,” I panted. The rain still fell on my face, dripping down to pool against my chest.
“Two left feet and two right hands,” he grinned. “And technically, I didn’t say I had two lefts. Just didn’t want them to get my two lefts to dance.”
I looked at him incredulously. “That makes no sense.”
“Exactly,” he grinned. It was technically not a lie. Milo liked twisting words in that way, I had noticed. It was a game for him. “Come on,” he said, shaking the water from his hair. “I’ll walk you home, darlin’.”
Pushing ourselves to our feet, I briefly glanced back towards the golden district beyond. Black lampposts lined the taverns, the music spilling out and flooding the streets. It was perfect. A picture that I wanted to keep close.
[[Next|Chapter Three 9]]
<<set $rainkiss to "false">>“Where did you learn to dance like that?” I panted. The rain still fell on my face, dripping down to pool against my chest.
He was still looking at the sky, his hand coming up to rest over his heart. “Taught myself, I guess. Walking got boring after a while, so I tried something new.” Young Milo, dancing through the streets while others were out for a morning stroll. It was not hard to believe.
“Come on,” he said, shaking the water from his hair. “I’ll walk you home, darlin’.”
Pushing ourselves to our feet, I briefly glanced back towards the golden district beyond. Black lampposts lined the taverns, the music spilling out and flooding the streets. It was perfect. A picture that I wanted to keep close.
[[Next|Chapter Three 9]]
<<set $rainkiss to "false">>Reaching up, I slid my fingers through his hair, feeling the wet curls catch in my palm. I pressed my lips softly to his. His mouth opened with a sigh against my own and I closed my eyes, feeling the way he was pressed against me and the way his hands came up to gently cradle my cheeks. My breath caught in my throat, the sheer tenderness that came from him unexpected. The way his body melted against my own caused my heart to skip and the gentle way in which he cradled the small of my back made me never want to leave his arms.
Around us, the rain fell in gentle drops of gold. The streets were painted with it as Milo and I lay together, gently exploring each other, our hands soft and accepting. I could feel his heart beat against my chest and the way his breath hitched with something raw and uncontrolled. I held him closer then, refusing to pull away. Around us, the storm began to rage.
Neither of us could bring ourselves to care.
[[Next|Chapter Three 9]]
<<set $rainkiss to "true">>Reaching up, I slid my fingers through his hair, feeling the wet curls catch in my palm. I stared up at him, watching as his gaze searched mine, questioning, asking permission. I swallowed thickly, not pulling away, silently telling him that this was okay.
Slowly, he leaned down, pressing his lips gently to mine. His mouth opened with a sigh against my own and I closed my eyes, feeling the way he was pressed against me and the way his hands came up to gently cradle my cheeks. My breath caught in my throat, the sheer tenderness that came from him unexpected. The way his body melted against my own caused my heart to skip and the gentle way in which he cradled the small of my back made me never want to leave his arms.
Around us, the rain fell in gentle drops of gold. The streets were painted with it as Milo and I lay together, gently exploring each other, our hands soft and accepting. I could feel his heart beat against my chest and the way his breath hitched with something raw and uncontrolled. I held him closer then, refusing to pull away. Around us, the storm began to rage.
Neither of us could bring ourselves to care.
[[Next|Chapter Three 9]]
<<set $rainkiss to "true">>We walked back towards Hazel’s, the roads starting to become familiar. One day of wandering the market and I felt a little better about navigating it all. The streets were set up in a grid pattern for the most part. Milo had instructed me that it was only within the market proper though. In the outskirts of the city, things became more wild. But he assured me there was no reason to go there anytime soon unless I wanted to.
<<if $rainkiss == "true">>Walking through the market, our hands brushed against each other until he laced his fingers within my own. His touch was warm, callused fingers gently encircling my own. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, but he kept me near, tugging me to his side when I strayed too far. As if I was something precious he had just discovered and he wanted to keep me for his own.
It wasn’t until we entered the Spice District that his expression changed. The hesitant curiosity I had seen playing across his face bled away, leaving a sense of dread to wash over us.
<<elseif $rainkiss == "false">>Walking through the market, we stood side by side, drenched but happy. The night had been full of laughter and revelations and I couldn’t imagine trading it for anything. It was the first time that I could see the good of the market. The things that this realm had to offer that were worth staying for. Worth living for.
When we came near the Spice District though, something in Milo’s demeanor faltered.<</if>>
“What is it?”
He frowned, his eyes ticking up to the night sky, flashing over towards the direction of Hazel’s before back again to the gentle sway of the lanterns before us. It had stopped raining not long ago. The roads were still damp, but the lanterns were bright.
“Something isn’t…” he shook his head just as a commotion began to clatter down the next alley.
Quickly, we walked towards the Spice District. The aroma of food gone, having been washed away by the rain. It now smelled like smoke from quickly doused fires, the wet embers still smoldering. And there was something else in the air. Like carbonation. Something popping and clean and slightly uncomfortable.
“A gate? Here?”
It wasn’t clear where the words came from but both Milo’s head and mine whipped around, trying to find the source. A crowd was forming in the widest part of the alley, people craning to get a look at something shimmering just beyond their reach.
<<if $rainkiss == 'true'>>Milo dropped my hand.<</if>>\
Rushing forward, I followed him, quickly weaving between people. I saw it then. A door, aqua green and swirling with a shimmering bit of white. The frame of it was made of iron while the insides wavered like the puddles we had so recently stomped through.
Several people came walking through. They looked bedraggled, their skin speckled with the bright pink of a sunburn and their eyes flat as stone. Their mouths looked sewn and the fear in their eyes was palpable all around.
I looked towards Milo. He stared at them emotionless.
“Milo?”
“Go get Hazel.”
“What about…?”
“Go get Hazel,” he snapped.
I looked at the newcomers, watching as their hands trembled, clutching onto sacks of their belongings, tears falling from their flat eyes. I nodded and without another word, turned to make my way back through the crowd. More and more people were gathering, coming out of the alleys in droves to look at the spectacle. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for whoever or whatever just walked through that gate. The Velvet Guard were running forth, nearly pushing people out of the way, and a crowd of onlookers began to jeer as they whispered behind hands that barely concealed their tone.
Ducking my head, I began to run. Hazel’s. I had to get to Hazel’s.
[[Chapter Four]]
<<set $chaptwogate to "true">><img src="images/Ch 4.png"
height="300" width="900">
A door had opened.
It had appeared in the middle of the Spice District, something beautiful and shining, shimmering in an aura of aquamarine. It was the whisper that was running through the market itself, inhabiting each corner until everyone had seen it. Or at least could claim that they did. It was the first gate that had opened so publicly and with it, a sense of excitement that swelled within the market itself.
I sat back at Hazel’s apothecary, stoking the fire. I had been told to wait after the initial bout of chaos and found myself at Hazel’s on my own. Billows had kept me company, twining between my legs and nipping at my ankles until I poured him a second bowl of cream. By the time the apothecary door opened again, the hearth was blazing and the wisps outside the stained-glass windows had begun their nightly accent down to the creek.
Milo and Hazel stepped in together, both of whom looked tired, while much to my surprise, Gabriel trailed behind.
“I’ll get the tea on,” Hazel said gently as the door clicked shut behind them. There was a construct she had waiting for moments like this. From the window I had watched Hazel sit in the front garden, coated in wisps. While a shaky version of her had run off. I didn’t see the construct return, but Hazel had awoken when Milo approached, looking at me now tired and worn.
I stood at the low-lying table, looking at them quietly. Milo had his arms cross and looked like he had put on fresh clothes while Gabriel appeared as he always did. Not a hair out of place.
“You can go,” Milo was saying. “We got this under control.”
Gabriel’s gray eyes turned towards Milo’s sharply, cutting across him with such precision that I nearly flinched. His tone was cool as he responded, the muscle in his jaw twitching in irritation. “I was unaware that the gates were something you were taking charge of Mr. Next.”
Milo rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean, Warden. The refugees are taken care of. The door is stable. There’s no reason for you to be here.”
“Except for the fact that Ms. Albright invited me.”
Milo’s smile was a bitter twist upon his lips. He was sizing up the man in front of him, clearly at the edge of his own patience. “She’s too kind for her own good sometimes.”
I cleared my throat. There was a history between those two that I had yet to learn, but it often left to an uncomfortable atmosphere when they were left alone. Two sets of eyes looked at me. The piercing gray tones of Gabriel and the honey warm ones of Milo.
“You been here the entire time?” Milo asked.
“I live here,” I said with a shrug.
It brought a smile across Milo’s dour face. Deep lines etched around his eyes with how tightly his lips were thinned. Even his arms, crossed across his chest, were bunched together in anger. Gabriel looked quite the opposite, though I was coming to assume that the man didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve quite as much as Milo did.
<<if $chaptwogates == "true">>“What happened?” I asked. After I had left, I knew nothing of what was transpiring within the market square. The gemstone eyes of the refugees would stick with me though. “The people that came through, are they okay?”
“We got them someplace safe,” Milo answered. He stepped away from Gabriel and walked around the bins of grain that Hazel and I had still not put away. “There’s a little spot we take them to where they can kind of learn the ins and outs of the Night Market.” Glancing over his shoulder, he gave Gabriel a pointed look. “Sorry you didn’t get that.”<<elseif $chaptwogates == "false">> “What happened?” I asked. The light about the door had been blinking since they had been gone, slowly fading to dark.
“Gate opened,” Milo answered. “There were some people that came through. Refugees. We got them someplace safe though.” He stepped away from Gabriel and walked around the bins of grain that Hazel and I had still not put away. “There’s a little spot we take them to where they can kind of learn the ins and outs of the Night Market.” Glancing over his shoulder, he gave Gabriel a pointed look. “Sorry you didn’t get that.<</if>> \
Gabriel didn’t roll his eyes, but the sentiment was still felt with the way he stared at Milo.
[[Was there anything else that you found at the gate?]]
[[Does the gate opening give us a lead on the Gatekeeper?]]
[[So I am taking it that this is serious if you two are working together?]]I averted my eyes. Maybe it wasn’t so much the market. Maybe Hazel simply didn’t want to come with me. “Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “It was silly to even ask. You have a lot of things going on here and you don’t need to take even more time out of your day for me. You’re already helping me with so much.” The room, the food, the job. The papers. Hazel had done more for me than I thought possible for a stranger to do. She had opened her heart and home without hesitation. I could find my own way to the market.
“No,” Hazel said quickly, hesitation coloring her voice. “No. Please don’t think this has anything to do with you. I would love to come to the market with you. I really would.”
Lifting my gaze, I saw the way she wrung her hands in front of her, biting her bottom lip. “Then what is it?”
She shrugged, sending a few curls of hair away from her face. “The Night Market and I don’t have a good rapport. Or, really, the people of the Night Market and I don’t have a good report. The Night Market and I get along just fine but… I don’t know. Sometimes the people look at me and still see my mother, I think.”
[[What exactly is it that they do to make you uncomfortable]]
[[You’re not your mother]]
[[Was she really that bad?]]
“You don’t like going out in the market, do you?”
Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen her leave the shop once since I had taken over the room upstairs. Somehow, deliveries were ordered without needing to leave, being done in bulk, so she wouldn’t run out any time soon. Anything else of a more delicate nature, Milo procured it for her. I had heard her talk about the market a few times. But for the most part, she seemed to keep within the shop's confines. I hadn’t given it much thought before, but now I wondered if this was a purposeful design.
“It’s not that,” she said hesitantly. I noticed the way her shoes shuffled against the ground. Black scuff marks littered the toes of her boots. “Or maybe it is.” She shrugged, sending a few curls of hair away from her face. “The Night Market and I don’t have a good rapport. Or, really, the people of the Night Market and I don’t have a good report. The Night Market and I get along just fine but… I don’t know. Sometimes the people look at me and still see my mother, I think.”
[[What exactly is it that they do to make you uncomfortable]]
[[You’re not your mother]]
[[Was she really that bad?]]
Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen her leave the shop once since I had taken over the room upstairs. Somehow, deliveries were ordered without needing to leave, being done in bulk, so she wouldn’t run out any time soon. Anything else of a more delicate nature, Milo procured it for her. I had heard Hazel talk about the market a few times. But for the most part, she seemed to keep within the shop's confines. I hadn’t given it much thought before, but now I wondered if this was a purposeful design.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her. I took a few steps forward, coming to her side in concern.
She scuffed her shoes against the floor, wringing her hands within her skirts. “The Night Market and I don’t have a good rapport. Or, really, the people of the Night Market and I don’t have a good report. The Night Market and I get along just fine but… I don’t know. Sometimes the people look at me and still see my mother, I think.”
[[What exactly is it that they do to make you uncomfortable]]
[[You’re not your mother]]
[[Was she really that bad?]]
“How do they make you uncomfortable?” It wasn’t a stretch to imagine, given what I had gone through thus far. But, for some reason, I didn’t think the horror of the market could touch Hazel. For someone to treat her as anything but kind felt wrong on several fronts.
“Oh, it’s nothing really,” she tried to say dismissively. “Some people won’t sell to me. Others call me names. I’m sure you’ve seen the Bog Witch sign before entering the alley.” I had. I had also seen Milo walk down with a bucket of water and soap the other day, and I suspected it was gone now. I hadn’t looked too much into it yet and no one had volunteered, but it was with a dawning realization that this was not a one time thing.
“Anything else?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “They used to throw things at me. Chase me off. That doesn’t happen so much anymore.”
“They what?”
Hazel startled at my tone, jumping and looking at me with wide eyes. “It was a long time ago. And my mother scared and destroyed a lot of people. I don’t blame them.”
[[I am so sorry that is happening to you]]
[[I don’t care who your mother is. You don’t deserve that]]
[[I'm not going to let anyone treat you like that]]There was a sickness I felt over her words, and I immediately wanted to comfort her. No one deserved what she was telling me. Not for the actions of a woman who was no dead.
“Hazel, I’m so sorry.” There was nothing else I could say. My words alone were not going to change the market's perception of her, but maybe, just maybe, the knowledge that there was another person out there who didn’t think that of her, would help.
“It’s okay,” she tried to tell me.
“It’s not,” I insisted. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”
She smiled sadly at me and I felt my stomach drop in empathy. She didn’t believe it. On some level, Hazel Albright apparently believed she alone could make up for the actions of her mother.
[[Assure her she does not need to come with you]]
[[Tell her that if she comes with you, you will protect her]]
[[Suggest the two of you stay here instead]]I couldn’t understand how the actions of one woman could cause so much strife. Hazel was not her mother. She was kind. She went out of her way to help others. And at the end of the day, she was the one left alive, dealing with the fallout of a woman who was long gone.
“Hazel,” I started. “I don’t care who your mother was. You don’t deserve any of that,” I said firmly. It became suddenly clear why Milo was so protective over her. The same desire to shelter her was curling in my bones.
She smiled softly and I could tell she didn’t quite believe me, but she nodded her head anyway. “Thank you for saying that. It does not make the market different, unfortunately. But I do appreciate your words.”
[[Assure her she does not need to come with you]]
[[Tell her that if she comes with you, you will protect her]]
[[Suggest the two of you stay here instead]]There was a rage that began to spread across my cheeks. It was low and bubbling that made my fists curl. Looking at her, I tried to put all the fierce determination I held in my words. She had to know that this wasn’t right. I don’t know how she didn’t already.
Reaching out, I rested my hand gently on top of hers. “As long as I’m around, I’m not going to let them treat you that way.” I didn’t know if the sentiment would mean anything, coming from a stranger. But I knew I wouldn’t sit by and let her be hurt. While Hazel looked content to just let the matter rest, I had every intention to raise hell if someone touched her.
She smiled softly and I could tell she didn’t quite believe me, but she nodded her head anyway. “Thank you for saying that. But please don’t do anything rash on my behalf. It’s not worth it.”
“You let me decide what’s worth it,” I told her.
Dipping her head down, I watched her swallow thickly, hiding the effect my words had on her. “Thank you, $name.”
[[Assure her she does not need to come with you]]
[[Tell her that if she comes with you, you will protect her]]
[[Suggest the two of you stay here instead]]“Hazel,” I began. I stepped closer to her, feeling her vibrate with nerves. For a woman that was so confident within these four walls, the outside world terrified her. There was more to it. I was almost certain. But the fact remained that she was confining herself to this shop because she didn’t feel safe otherwise. “I don’t know much about your mother or what she did. I can infer, but I don’t know for certain. What I do know, is you are not her.”
Her eyes turned sharply up towards mine, bright and full of hope. Her lips were parted in surprise and her hands stilled in the folds of her skirts. Such simple words. Anyone who had talked to her for a few minutes could clearly see the heart and soul of this woman, and yet she was clinging to the kindness I had just offered her, like a woman dying of thirst.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment, ducking her head and hiding the sudden wetness that was threatening to spill over her cheeks.
[[Assure her she does not need to come with you]]
[[Tell her that if she comes with you, you will protect her]]
[[Suggest the two of you stay here instead]]I frowned at her words. Why would someone treat her so badly due to the actions of her mother? I understood that Hazel’s mother was not well liked. But that should have had no bearing on her daughter. “Was she really that bad?” I asked.
A brief sigh escaped her lips as she nodded. “I don’t want to speak ill of her. She was my mother. But she wasn’t the type of woman that showed a lot of kindness or understanding. She served a purpose within the Night Market. One that I suppose some needed. But in doing so, she ended up hurting people. And then, well, the fire…”
I looked over my shoulder, as if to spy the alley beyond. “The fire?”
“She was the one who started it.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I had walked that alley, seen what it held. To know that someone started the destruction there, and it was not merely an accident, was heart-wrenching. People had lost their lives, and yet Hazel’s home still stood.
[[Assure her she does not need to come with you]]
[[Tell her that if she comes with you, you will protect her]]
[[Suggest the two of you stay here instead]]“You don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.” I told her gently. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable on my behalf.
“No,” she said quickly. “No I want to.” She squared her shoulders and grabbed a leather satchel that she swung over her shoulder. I noticed how she discreetly wiped at her eyes. “I want some new fabric, anyway. Need to make myself another skirt or two. And the Fashion District sells a lot of things in bulk if you know what you’re looking for.”
“You make your own clothes?”
She nodded. “Since I was little. Made Milo’s for a while too,” she giggled. “Though he didn’t enjoy how much periwinkle I put him in.” Straightening, she looked around the shop. “I think I have something ready, thankfully. I was planning on sending myself out into the market tomorrow for the monthly supplies. I’ll have Milo do it instead.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Something ready?”
“Oh!” she turned to me, color high on her cheeks. “Yes. I won’t actually be coming but in a way I will. You won’t even notice it’s not me.”
“What do you…?”
I watched as the color bled from her eyes, her face going slack as she began to mutter to herself. Around us, the apothecary began to shake, the windows flying open to let in the wisps. They carried with them twigs and small bits of vine, dropping them at her feet like some sort of offering. I stumbled back, watching as Hazel’s arms rose, the bits of earth she had summoned slowly starting to build.
Twigs and branches began stacking on top of each other. The vines wrapping around the braided wood to keep everything secure. The lights above flickered and the candles whooshed out as a body began to form, standing between Hazel and I. Hazel’s voice was lost in the whispers that began to thread through the room but I could see her lips moving. She whispered to the world around her, commanding the wisps to do her bidding, until a perfect replica of herself stood before me.
The shop went silent.
As the new version of Hazel blinked, I heard branches popping. She cracked her neck and sighed.
“There we go.”
[[So you are far more powerful than you let on]]
[[What did you just do?]]
[[Suddenly I don't know if you need as much protection as I thought]]Suddenly, the alley didn’t seem so scary. Nor the market itself. My trepidation over leaving the apothecary was put at a bit of ease. For Hazel, it would have to be. “I don’t possibly know what I could do but if you still want to come with me, anyone that even looks at you wrong will have to deal with me.”
She laughed at that. The sound of it making me smile. “I actually might like to see that,” she said. Grabbing a leather satchel, she swung it over her shoulder. I noticed how she discreetly wiped at her eyes. “I want some new fabric, anyway. Need to make myself another skirt or two. And the Fashion District sells a lot of things in bulk if you know what you’re looking for.”
“You make your own clothes?”
She nodded. “Since I was little. Made Milo’s for a while too,” she giggled. “Though he didn’t enjoy how much periwinkle I put him in.” Straightening, she looked around the shop. “I think I have something ready, thankfully. I was planning on sending myself out into the market tomorrow for the monthly supplies. I’ll have Milo do it instead.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Something ready?”
“Oh!” she turned to me, color high on her cheeks. “Yes. I won’t actually be coming but in a way I will. You won’t even notice it’s not me.”
“What do you…?”
I watched as the color bled from her eyes, her face going slack as she began to mutter to herself. Around us, the apothecary began to shake, the windows flying open to let in the wisps. They carried with them twigs and small bits of vine, dropping them at her feet like some sort of offering. I stumbled back, watching as Hazel’s arms rose, the bits of earth she had summoned slowly starting to build.
Twigs and branches began stacking on top of each other. The vines wrapping around the braided wood to keep everything secure. The lights above flickered and the candles whooshed out as a body began to form, standing between Hazel and I. Hazel’s voice was lost in the whispers that began to thread through the room but I could see her lips moving. She whispered to the world around her, commanding the wisps to do her bidding, until a perfect replica of herself stood before me.
The shop went silent.
As the new version of Hazel blinked, I heard branches popping. She cracked her neck and sighed.
“There we go.”
[[So you are far more powerful than you let on]]
[[What did you just do?]]
[[Suddenly I don't know if you need as much protection as I thought]]I looked around the shop. I needed new clothes but it could wait. Milo could maybe pick something up for me. Or maybe Hazel could teach me how to put in an order through the different shops. “Why don’t we just stay here?” I suggested. “I’m suddenly not feeling up for the market.”
Hazel, was not buying it. Squaring her shoulders, she stomped the heel of her booted foot down on the floor. It was done in such a way that denoted a switch in her demeanor. I had seen her do it when a spell became incredibly frustrating for her. A way to shake off the negative energy and start new. “We’re going,” she said with determination. “I want some new fabric, anyway. Need to make myself another skirt or two. And the Fashion District sells a lot of things in bulk if you know what you’re looking for.”
“You make your own clothes?”
She nodded. “Since I was little. Made Milo’s for a while too,” she giggled. “Though he didn’t enjoy how much periwinkle I put him in.” Straightening, she looked around the shop. “I think I have something ready, thankfully. I was planning on sending myself out into the market tomorrow for the monthly supplies. I’ll have Milo do it instead.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Something ready?”
“Oh!” she turned to me, color high on her cheeks. “Yes. I won’t actually be coming but in a way I will. You won’t even notice it’s not me.”
“What do you…?”
I watched as the color bled from her eyes, her face going slack as she began to mutter to herself. Around us, the apothecary began to shake, the windows flying open to let in the wisps. They carried with them twigs and small bits of vine, dropping them at her feet like some sort of offering. I stumbled back, watching as Hazel’s arms rose, the bits of earth she had summoned slowly starting to build.
Twigs and branches began stacking on top of each other. The vines wrapping around the braided wood to keep everything secure. The lights above flickered and the candles whooshed out as a body began to form, standing between Hazel and I. Hazel’s voice was lost in the whispers that began to thread through the room but I could see her lips moving. She whispered to the world around her, commanding the wisps to do her bidding, until a perfect replica of herself stood before me.
The shop went silent.
As the new version of Hazel blinked, I heard branches popping. She cracked her neck and sighed.
“There we go.”
[[So you are far more powerful than you let on]]
[[What did you just do?]]
[[Suddenly I don't know if you need as much protection as I thought]]Two versions of Hazel stood before me. One with black eyes and wisps flitting around her head, and the other, the one I had come to know. I looked between the two of them, seeing very little differences in their appearance. The one that had been talking to me, however, looked shrouded in magic, the air around her crackling and her lips still moving in incantation. While the new Hazel was standing there, twirling her skirts back and forth.
“So you’re far more powerful than you let on then,” I muttered. If Hazel could do something like that, then it was clear that I was in the presence of more than a simple bog witch.
“Oh,” she said, looking back at her other form. “I mean, kind of. This is just a simple construct spell. I’ve perfected it over the course of a lot of years. That way, I don’t actually have to leave the shop,” she said brightly.
“Do you ever leave the shop?” I asked, suddenly wondering if this was how she went about the world.
“Not really. I’ve just found this to be safer over the years.” It was said without remorse, as if she had stumbled upon the secret of living. The fact that life had driven her to this was far more concerning. “I mean, it does come with its downfalls,” she said. “I can’t just do it at will. I have to plan a few days in advance in order for the spell to take root. We were just lucky that I was already planning on sending me out into the market this week. It worked out perfectly. Now you don’t have to go alone.”
I nodded, not really sure what to say about it all. This was normal to her. This was just another facet of her life. I didn’t know if I should be impressed or utterly terrified at what she could do.
Crouching down in front of Mr. Billows, Hazel scratched under his chin. “You know what to do, mister. Hold down the fort while I’m gone.” The cat purred, looking as if it were about to fall asleep where he sat. Given how he was laying in the burning heat of the hearth, I couldn’t blame him.
[[Next|Chapter Three H1]]
Two versions of Hazel stood before me. One with black eyes and wisps flitting around her head, and the other, the one I had come to know. I looked between the two of them, seeing very little differences in their appearance. The one that had been talking to me, however, looked shrouded in magic, the air around her crackling and her lips still moving in incantation. While the new Hazel was standing there, twirling her skirts back and forth.
“What did you just do?” I asked, bewildered.
Hazel looked slightly embarassed at my question, her fingers beginning to worry at the folds of her skirt. “Oh, I– It’s really not that big of a deal,” she tried to say. “It’s just a simple construct. I use it to get around the market.”
“You just made an whole other you,” I pointed out.
She glanced back at her muttering form, watching the shadows begin to consume her. “I– well, yes. But I assure you, it’s safe. I’m safe. I’m not trying to trick you or anything. I just don’t like leaving the shop.”
“Do you ever leave the shop?” I asked, suddenly wondering if this was how she went about the world.
“Not really. I’ve just found this to be safer over the years.” It was said without remorse, as if she had stumbled upon the secret of living. The fact that life had driven her to this was far more concerning. “I mean, it does come with its downfalls,” she said. “I can’t just do it at will. I have to plan a few days in advance in order for the spell to take root. We were just lucky that I was already planning on sending me out into the market this week. It worked out perfectly. Now you don’t have to go alone.”
I nodded, not really sure what to say about it all. This was normal to her. This was just another facet of her life. I didn’t know if I should be impressed or utterly terrified at what she could do.
Crouching down in front of Mr. Billows, Hazel scratched under his chin. “You know what to do, mister. Hold down the fort while I’m gone.” The cat purred, looking as if it were about to fall asleep where he sat. Given how he was laying in the burning heat of the hearth, I couldn’t blame him.
[[Next|Chapter Three H1]]
Two versions of Hazel stood before me. One with black eyes and wisps flitting around her head, and the other, the one I had come to know. I looked between the two of them, seeing very little differences in their appearance. The one that had been talking to me, however, looked shrouded in magic, the air around her crackling and her lips still moving in incantation. While the new Hazel was standing there, twirling her skirts back and forth.
“Suddenly the thought of having to protect you seems a bit silly,” I said. If Hazel could do something like that, then it was clear that I was in the presence of more than a simple bog witch. More than likely, she could do much much more. Given what she was describing of the market, I wondered why she didn’t
“It’s just a simple construct,” she said, looking back at her muttering form. Shadows began to fall around her, concealing her from view. “I’ve perfected it over the course of a lot of years. That way, I don’t actually have to leave the shop,” she said brightly.
“Do you ever leave the shop?” I asked, suddenly wondering if this was how she went about the world.
“Not really. I’ve just found this to be safer over the years.” It was said without remorse, as if she had stumbled upon the secret of living. The fact that life had driven her to this was far more concerning. “I mean, it does come with its downfalls,” she said. “I can’t just do it at will. I have to plan a few days in advance in order for the spell to take root. We were just lucky that I was already planning on sending me out into the market this week. It worked out perfectly. Now you don’t have to go alone.”
I nodded, not really sure what to say about it all. This was normal to her. This was just another facet of her life. I didn’t know if I should be impressed or utterly terrified at what she could do.
Crouching down in front of Mr. Billows, Hazel scratched under his chin. “You know what to do, mister. Hold down the fort while I’m gone.” The cat purred, looking as if it were about to fall asleep where he sat. Given how he was laying in the burning heat of the hearth, I couldn’t blame him.
[[Next|Chapter Three H1]]
As Hazel locked up the shop, the two of us walked down the glittering broken gemstone path, through the bramble front gate, coming to stand at the entrance of the alley. I could see Hazel’s gloved fingers clench something within her hand as she glared determinedly.
The second our feet crossed the threshold, I could hear the surrounding shift more than I saw it.
//Hazel//
//Hazeeeeeel//
I turned my gaze towards Hazel, feeling my throat run dry. She kept her eyes determinedly forward, though, trying her hardest not to flinch with each whisper of her name.
“Not all the vendors are bad,” she said. I could hear the tightness in her voice and the way she continued to speed through the alley. “You should know that. Most of the Spice District is kind and there are quite a few vendors within the farmers square that are more than happy to do business with me. They all knew me growing up, so I’m sure that was helpful. They were the first to help me build the Apothecary to what it is.”
“Obviously enough of them are bad if you don’t want to go within the market,” I reasoned.
“I just don’t like taking the chance.”
[[Why are they calling your name]]
[[The Night Market is huge. That is still a lot of people who hold a grudge]]
[[Do they think you’re her because you own an apothecary?]]
Whispered murmurs came from the dark, slinking out to skitter in the burnt ash across the street, sending it rolling like tumbleweeds. I swallowed, trying not to look in the shops specifically, knowing that if I acknowledged what was around me, it would be so much worse.
“Why are they calling your name?” I asked, keeping my voice low and trying to remain calm.
“It’s my mother. Don’t worry about it,” she said, jaw tight.
I whipped my head to hers. “What do you mean it’s your mother.”
For once, Hazel did not answer me. I could see her fingers curling against the bottle, her chin held high as she continued down the alley. Echoing taps from her boots crunched through the passageway louder than normal. She was not showing the fear that the spirits desperately seemed to want.
When a high-pitched scream filled the air, Hazel threw down the bottle in her hand. A cloud of ashen orange smoke sprung up before bits of it zoomed off in several directions to silence the echoes of pain.
“Come on,” she said. “I don’t want to stay here any longer.”
[[Take her hand and run through the rest of the alley]]
[[Agree and rush from the alley with her]]
[[Keep your head down and walk calmly through the alley]]“The Night Market seems huge. And even if you have a few vendors that treat you kind, that is a lot of people that are still holding a grudge against you.” The market was a sprawling mass that grew and grew, only bits of it receding into nothing. The idea that there were so many out there that hated Hazel was almost ridiculous to contemplate. Her mother couldn’t have possibly had that much of an effect on the realm.
But when Hazel glanced at me, I could see it. She was not lying and her experience was not one to be dismissed. Apparently, the market could hold a grudge. I wondered just what horrors her mother inflicted on the world for the entirety of the realm to still treat Hazel this way.
A high-pitched scream filled the air and Hazel threw down the bottle in her hand. A cloud of ashen orange smoke sprung up before bits of it zoomed off in several directions to silence the echoes of pain.
“Come on,” she said. “I don’t want to stay here any longer.”
[[Take her hand and run through the rest of the alley]]
[[Agree and rush from the alley with her]]
[[Keep your head down and walk calmly through the alley]]“Do they just associated you with her because you own the apothecary?” It was the same as her mothers. Where they all once lived. Maybe the market viewed Hazel in a bad light simply because of the home she continued to reside in.
“Possibly,” Hazel said. “I really haven’t looked too much into it.”
“Maybe another area would do better for you,” I suggested. I didn’t know how real estate worked within the market itself, but anything had to be better than what she had been enduring.
“It’s my home,” Hazel said simply. “I won’t be leaving it.”
Hazel glanced at me but didn’t say anything to that. Apparently, the market could and did. I wondered just what horrors her mother inflicted on the world for the entirety of the market to still treat Hazel this way.
A high-pitched scream filled the air and Hazel threw down the bottle in her hand. A cloud of ashen orange smoke sprung up before bits of it zoomed off in several directions to silence the echoes of pain.
“Come on,” she said. “I don’t want to stay here any longer.”
[[Take her hand and run through the rest of the alley]]
[[Agree and rush from the alley with her]]
[[Keep your head down and walk calmly through the alley]]I slipped my hand within hers without thinking. Her palm was warm against my own, a callus on her index finger that was rough on the back of my hand. Hazel looked at me for a moment, shock written on her face, but she returned the squeeze as we made our hurried escape out of the alley. I could feel the eyes on me and their whispered taunts. Glancing at Hazel, I could see the effort to keep her face expressionless. Not wanting to give them the reaction they desperately sought from her. I squeezed her hand tighter at that and quickened my steps.
Emerging in the light of the three-tiered fountain, both of us breathed a sigh of relief. The haunting sounds from the burnt shell behind us faded away, leaving the soothing sound of trickling water. Her hand still rested within mine.
“They’re restless spirits,” she volunteered, her eyes trained on the fountain as she tried her hardest to keep her voice from trembling. “When someone dies in the Night Market, they wander.” The water from the fountain bubbled in the basin, spurting over the edge in tones of green and aquamarine. “All those people. None of them ever had a chance.”
[[There’s no rest after you die?]]
[[Were they like that in life?]]
[[That's terrible]]There was nothing in the world that would have kept me within this alley a second longer. I quicken my pace, Hazel by my side. As the sound of footsteps began to thump behind us, I could feel the sweat on the back of my neck.
I’m not sure who broke first, but we were both running by the end of the alley. Pumping our legs as quickly as possible as someone breathed in our ear. I tossed a frantic look at Hazel and watched as she tried to keep her face neutral, but I could see the fear welling in her soft gaze. It only made us run faster.
Emerging in the light of the three tiered fountain, both of us breathed a sigh of relief. The haunting sounds from the burnt shell behind us faded away, leaving the soothing sound of trickling water. Besides me, Hazel took unsteady breaths.
“They’re restless spirits,” she volunteered, her eyes trained on the fountain as she tried her hardest to keep her voice from trembling. “When someone dies in the Night Market, they wander.” The water from the fountain bubbled in the basin, spurting over the edge in tones of green and aquamarine. “All those people. None of them ever had a chance.”
[[There’s no rest after you die?]]
[[Were they like that in life?]]
[[That's terrible]]Panic would get us nowhere. Despite the echoing footsteps that began to follow us, I kept my head down and my breathing even. Next to me, Hazel was doing much the same.
“Do they ever cross into your garden?” I asked her, just wanting to hear a voice that was either hers or mine.
“No. Never,” she responded. “I made sure of that a long time ago.”
There was a hiss next to my ear and I squeezed my eyes shut to make sure that I didn’t flinch. We spent the rest of the walk through the alley in silence.
Emerging in the light of the three tiered fountain, both of us breathed a sigh of relief. The haunting sounds from the burnt shell behind us faded away, leaving the soothing sound of trickling water. Besides me, Hazel took unsteady breaths.
“They’re restless spirits,” she volunteered, her eyes trained on the fountain as she tried her hardest to keep her voice from trembling. “When someone dies in the Night Market, they wander.” The water from the fountain bubbled in the basin, spurting over the edge in tones of green and aquamarine. “All those people. None of them ever had a chance.”
[[There’s no rest after you die?]]
[[Were they like that in life?]]
[[That's terrible]]“So when you die, you don’t rest?” I glanced behind me at the alley. How many spirits were doomed to wander there forever?
“It depends on who you ask.” Walking over to the fountain, Hazel dipped her hands in. The waters glowed green for a moment, little fish coming up to nibble at her fingers.
“I’m asking you,” I said.
She smiled a bit at that. “I believe in the old tales. If you were born within the market, and perhaps if you forsake your old life and live here completely, the Night Market claims you. They don’t ever let you go. So if you die within the market, you have to wander somewhere.” She looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes too flickering towards the alley. Forever stuck within a world, trapped. There was a part of me that identified with the souls that were lost, as sad as that may be.
“You said they’re restless. So I’m assuming it’s not a happy life.”
“For some it can be. If you still have family. Things in this world to ground you. If you have nothing other than the memory of your death…?” she trailed off, not needing to go further.
“So are you saying that there are ghosts just wandering the streets?” Were they like any other market goer? The world around me was strange and surprising. If I were to learn that I had met several spirits, or that we somehow were all spirits, I don’t think I would have been shocked.
“When they die, they tend to get trapped within the district they died in,” she said. “They don’t leave and live their lives. I wanted to believe there was some sort of beautiful afterlife for them but really, their minds slowly deteriorate. I don’t believe the souls within that alley even know who or what they are anymore.”
Tipping her head forward, Hazel gestured for me to continue walking. We were taking a different route. One I had yet to travel. It was tinged blue, and the lanterns overhead looked as if they were woven silk.
I thought about her words for a moment, thinking of what that meant to the market as a whole. “And every death ends that way? Even ones that are peaceful?”
“No. That’s the funny thing really. Death of course exists within these walls but… well, I’ve never heard of anyone dying of old age here. I’ve never heard of anyone dying of disease. The ones that do pass, are murdered. Their life is taken from them. Otherwise, people come and go, but they never truly die.”
I paused. “Are you saying people here are immortal?”
“In a way, I suppose. If you leave, I’m not sure what happens to you, but the ones who stay, have the option of staying forever.”
I reeled a bit with the revelation. Immortality. No wonder the market had to be controlled with who entered or exited.
“You must remember,” Hazel continued, “a good amount of Night Market patrons are people who are wandering in and out of gates. Not everyone you see lives here. And if they do, it doesn’t mean they live here forever. The Market can get old.”
[[Does it get old to you?]]
[[Have you ever thought about leaving?]]
[[I don’t know if I could live in any one place forever]]“When they were alive, were they angry like that?” The souls that wandered that alley had once been living breathing creatures. Did they terrorize those who passed them during their days of warmth or did this happen only when your heart stopped beating?
“No,” she said. “No, they were for the most part kind. Good people.”
“Why are they trapped there?” I asked.
“Depends on who you ask,” she said with a sad smile. “Me, I believe in the old tales. If you were born within the market, and perhaps if you forsake your old life and live here completely, the Night Market claims you. They don’t ever let you go. So if you die within the market, you have to wander somewhere.” She looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes too flickering towards the alley. Forever stuck within a world, trapped. There was a part of me that identified with the souls that were lost, as sad as that may be. “They can’t wander far from where they fell, though. Kind of an unofficial rule.”
“You said they’re restless. So I’m assuming it’s not a happy life.”
“For some it can be. If you still have family. Things in this world to ground you. If you have nothing other than the memory of your death…?” she trailed off, not needing to go further.
“So are you saying that there are ghosts just wandering the streets?” Were they like any other market goer? The world around me was strange and surprising. If I were to learn that I had met several spirits, or that we somehow were all spirits, I don’t think I would have been shocked.
“When they die, they tend to get trapped within the district they died in,” she said. “They don’t leave and live their lives. I wanted to believe there was some sort of beautiful afterlife for them but really, their minds slowly deteriorate. I don’t believe the souls within that alley even know who or what they are anymore.”
Tipping her head forward, Hazel gestured for me to continue walking. We were taking a different route. One I had yet to travel. It was tinged blue, and the lanterns overhead looked as if they were woven silk.
I thought about her words for a moment, thinking of what that meant to the market as a whole. “And every death ends that way? Even ones that are peaceful?”
“No. That’s the funny thing really. Death of course exists within these walls but… well, I’ve never heard of anyone dying of old age here. I’ve never heard of anyone dying of disease. The ones that do pass, are murdered. Their life is taken from them. Otherwise, people come and go, but they never truly die.”
I paused. “Are you saying people here are immortal?”
“In a way, I suppose. If you leave, I’m not sure what happens to you, but the ones who stay, have the option of staying forever.”
I reeled a bit with the revelation. Immortality. No wonder the market had to be controlled with who entered or exited.
“You must remember,” Hazel continued, “a good amount of Night Market patrons are people who are wandering in and out of gates. Not everyone you see lives here. And if they do, it doesn’t mean they live here forever. The Market can get old.”
[[Does it get old to you?]]
[[Have you ever thought about leaving?]]
[[I don’t know if I could live in any one place forever]]The alley was lined with buildings. Old shops, reaching two stories high. I imagined it had once been a busy street. The day of the fire, I wondered how many got out and who all had been trapped. Despite their nature now, I felt sorrow for them. “I feel terrible that they are still there,” I told Hazel. “Why are they trapped there?”
Hazel sighed a bit, contemplating the question. It was one that she had probably wrestled with more than anyone else. Did she also look out her window at night to watch the restless spirits walk? Had she tried to help them?
“Depends on who you ask,” she said with a sad smile. “Me, I believe in the old tales. If you were born within the market, and perhaps if you forsake your old life and live here completely, the Night Market claims you. They don’t ever let you go. So if you die within the market, you have to wander somewhere.” She looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes too flickering towards the alley. Forever stuck within a world, trapped. There was a part of me that identified with the souls that were lost, as sad as that may be. “They can’t wander far from where they fell, though. Kind of an unofficial rule.”
“You said they’re restless. So I’m assuming it’s not a happy life.”
“For some it can be. If you still have family. Things in this world to ground you. If you have nothing other than the memory of your death…?” she trailed off, not needing to go further.
“So are you saying that there are ghosts just wandering the streets?” Were they like any other market goer? The world around me was strange and surprising. If I were to learn that I had met several spirits, or that we somehow were all spirits, I don’t think I would have been shocked.
“When they die, they tend to get trapped within the district they died in,” she said. “They don’t leave and live their lives. I wanted to believe there was some sort of beautiful afterlife for them but really, their minds slowly deteriorate. I don’t believe the souls within that alley even know who or what they are anymore.”
Tipping her head forward, Hazel gestured for me to continue walking. We were taking a different route. One I had yet to travel. It was tinged blue, and the lanterns overhead looked as if they were woven silk.
I thought about her words for a moment, thinking of what that meant to the market as a whole. “And every death ends that way? Even ones that are peaceful?”
“No. That’s the funny thing really. Death of course exists within these walls but… well, I’ve never heard of anyone dying of old age here. I’ve never heard of anyone dying of disease. The ones that do pass, are murdered. Their life is taken from them. Otherwise, people come and go, but they never truly die.”
I paused. “Are you saying people here are immortal?”
“In a way, I suppose. If you leave, I’m not sure what happens to you, but the ones who stay, have the option of staying forever.”
I reeled a bit with the revelation. Immortality. No wonder the market had to be controlled with who entered or exited.
“You must remember,” Hazel continued, “a good amount of Night Market patrons are people who are wandering in and out of gates. Not everyone you see lives here. And if they do, it doesn’t mean they live here forever. The Market can get old.”
[[Does it get old to you?]]
[[Have you ever thought about leaving?]]
[[I don’t know if I could live in any one place forever]]The silk lanterns above became larger and larger until the alley could only fit one lantern at a time, suspended like a pendent in one long line stretching outwards. “Does the market ever get old to you?” I asked.
“Oh no,” Hazel said, holding her arms out wide and spinning beneath the blue lamps. “No. I love it here. Not that I have much of a choice. Being born within this realm, the Night Market for sure has claimed me. If I were to leave and die somewhere else, it would only bring me back.”
It was said so nonchalantly that I nearly believed it without question. But it seemed absurd. Death somewhere in a land far away only to be dragged back to these city streets. The Night Market was starting to sound like an inescapable chasm of pretty lights and maze like alley’s.
“Has anyone tried to release their souls? The spirits, I mean?” There had to be a way. I wasn’t saying it would be my job, but I couldn’t imagine seeing a loved one suffer like that without doing something.
“Yes. Not the ones in that alley, but others, yes. Most stay away from the alley, though. The hex that was put on there is still strong. I don’t blame them.”
[[It doesn’t sound like you blame anyone for anything]]
[[No. I get that]]
[[Hazel, maybe you should start blaming people for some things]]The silk lanterns above became larger and larger until the alley could only fit one lantern at a time, suspended like a pendent in one long line stretching outwards. “Have you ever considered leaving? Finding a gate and just starting over somewhere else?”
“I used to dream of it,” she answered honestly. “When I was a little girl. I had these grand plans of going somewhere with Milo. Taking off when we got a little older and starting a big adventure. I knew at the time that I never would but, it was nice to play pretend with him. At least for a little while.”
“Why couldn’t you leave?”
She shrugged. “I mean, I could, but there’s no telling when the market was going to call me back. I’m just not the kind of person that wants to live with that uncertainty. Besides, as I grew, I stopped seeing only the horrors and started finding the things here that I like. Little bits here and there. I realized that while I was busy surviving, I also had to live my life. That’s when I fell in love with the lights and the small quirks of my home. I can’t imagine being anywhere else now.”
She stopped as she spied my expression, her face falling. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Live your life even while surviving,” I repeated.
[[I need to start doing that]]
[[Doing that feels like giving up]]
[[I don’t know if I can do that]]The silk lanterns above became larger and larger until the alley could only fit one lantern at a time, suspended like a pendent in one long line stretching outwards. “I don’t know if I could live in one place forever,” I told her. “Immortality, the thought of forever, it all seems fine, but then, when you really think about it, it’s a little terrifying.”
The blue lights from above reflected off her face, dancing across her freckles and darkening them. “I don’t disagree with you,” she said. “It’s just the reality many of us face, whether we like it or not. I guess I try not to think about it too much.”
“How?” I asked. I had only been in the market a week and the thought of staying here forever was constantly on my mind.”
She shrugged, the bottles tied to her skirt clacking together pleasantly. “I don’t know. I just try not to let things like that get to me. You have to live your life while surviving,” she said. “If I dwell too much, I could get caught up in something dark and completely out of my control and miss out on the beauty that is right in front of me.”
I paused, her words hitting me deep in the chest. They blindsided me in a way that I didn’t think Hazel would have been capable of doing.
She stopped as she spied my expression, her face falling. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Live your life even while surviving,” I repeated.
[[I need to start doing that]]
[[Doing that feels like giving up]]
[[I don’t know if I can do that]]I looked at her, her heart shaped face open, her emotions right at the surface in a display of honesty that was both refreshing and intimidating. “It doesn’t sound like you blame a lot of people, Hazel,” I told her. From what I had learned, Hazel saw the best even within the individuals who didn’t deserve it.
“What’s the use in blaming someone for something?” she asked with a small shrug. “It gets you nowhere.”
I thought about her words for a moment. I wanted to say she was right but given my own circumstances, I didn’t think I could be as forgiving. Hazel cast no stones, even when she should. So far, it worked out for her, but I wondered just how many had taken advantage of that kindness. If her tales as to why she didn’t go into the market often were any indicator, I assumed the number was many.
“Besides,” she continued. “I think everyone has to just get to a point in their life where they make a sort of decision. I don’t know a single person here who has been given a fair lot in life. At some point or other, everyone enters survival mode and the things they do during that time can so easily be judged. But they are all just doing the best they can with what they have. I just choose to be kind. Life, after all, has to continue even during survival.”
I paused at her words. They struck something deep withing me, hitting me with a blind strike.
She stopped as she spied my expression, her face falling. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Live your life even while surviving,” I repeated.
[[I need to start doing that]]
[[Doing that feels like giving up]]
[[I don’t know if I can do that]]I looked at her, her heart shaped face open, her emotions right at the surface in a display of honesty that was both refreshing and intimidating. “I get it,” I told her. “Blaming people is easy to do. Especially when we’re the ones hurt. But it doesn’t change anything.”
“Exactly,” she said with a beaming smile. “It’s what you do with the fallout of any situation that matters so much more.”
Hazel, from what I could observe, cast no stones, even when it was clear that she should. It was a true mark of kindness that more people should have adopted. I wanted to as well, but didn’t know if I was strong enough to do so.
“Besides,” she continued, unaware of my inner thoughts. “I think everyone has to just get to a point in their life where they make a sort of decision. I don’t know a single person here who has been given a fair lot in life. At some point or other, everyone enters survival mode and the things they do during that time can so easily be judged. But they are all just doing the best they can with what they have. I just choose to be kind. Life, after all, has to continue even during survival.”
I paused at her words. They struck something deep withing me, hitting me with a blind strike.
She stopped as she spied my expression, her face falling. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Live your life even while surviving,” I repeated.
[[I need to start doing that]]
[[Doing that feels like giving up]]
[[I don’t know if I can do that]]I looked at her, her heart shaped face open, her emotions right at the surface in a display of honesty that was both refreshing and intimidating. “Hazel, I don’t mean to sound cruel but maybe you should blame more people for their actions.”
She frowned. “Why? Blaming solves nothing.”
“If someone has truly done something wrong, they should be held accountable,” I told her. “Letting them off the hook for horrible actions just ensures that they continue those actions again and again.”
I didn’t think I could be as forgiving. Hazel cast no stones, even when she should. So far, it worked out for her, but I wondered just how many had taken advantage of that kindness. If her tales as to why she didn’t go into the market often were any indicator, I assumed the number was many.
“It’s in my experience that people don’t change because of blame. They only change because of something in themselves. And as much as I would like my words to matter to others, I’m just a stranger to them. Someone that they can focus their anger on. They’re just not worth my time, $name.”
It was not the first time she had said these words before. They were born after trying so often and getting nowhere. I didn’t know if she was right, but I certainly didn’t like the path she had to take to come to this conclusion.
“Besides,” she continued, unaware of my inner thoughts. “I think everyone has to just get to a point in their life where they make a sort of decision. I don’t know a single person here who has been given a fair lot in life. At some point or other, everyone enters survival mode and the things they do during that time can so easily be judged. But they are all just doing the best they can with what they have. I just choose to be kind. Life, after all, has to continue even during survival.”
I paused at her words. They struck something deep withing me, hitting me with a blind strike.
She stopped as she spied my expression, her face falling. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Live your life even while surviving,” I repeated.
[[I need to start doing that]]
[[Doing that feels like giving up]]
[[I don’t know if I can do that]]“I didn’t mean anything terrible by it,” Hazel said quickly. She looked a little panicked in response to how I looked. The dimming blue lights above were probably not helping.
What she said made sense, though. I was surviving. It had only been a week and so I wasn’t quite to the point where I felt the need to berate myself for not seeing this sooner, but I could see how easily I might be able to fall into that trap. Surviving. Focusing solely on getting home. Forgetting about the fact that it could take ages and in the meanwhile, life was going to continue to unfold around me.
“I think I need to start doing that,” I told her softly.
She blinked at me, perhaps not understanding. But she stepped forward, nodding her head. “I could help you,” she offered.
I smiled softly at her. “I think you already have.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H4]]
“I didn’t mean anything terrible by it,” Hazel said quickly. She looked a little panicked in response to how I looked. The dimming blue lights above were probably not helping.
I had been here a week. I knew there was going to be some adjusting to the world around me. But living in it? It felt like giving up. Giving up on finding out who I was once. Why I was even here. Living in the midst of survival felt like telling the Night Market that it won. It settled in the pit of my stomach like a rock.
“I can’t give up on my old life,” I told her. I knew nothing about it, and yet I needed to cling to it.
She blinked at me, perhaps not understanding. But she stepped forward, nodding her head. “I know. And I would never ask you to.”
“Please understand, it has nothing to do with you. I just don’t know who I am, and I don’t know if I can go around every day and not by hyper aware of that.”
“$name,” she said. “It’s okay.”
It didn’t feel okay, though. Even getting clothes felt like a kernel of guilt. Lying low was harder than it had initially sounded.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you some new clothes.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H4]]
“I didn’t mean anything terrible by it,” Hazel said quickly. She looked a little panicked in response to how I looked. The dimming blue lights above were probably not helping.
I had been here a week. I knew there was going to be some adjusting to the world around me. But living in it? Was that even something I was capable of? Waiting around was going to be hard. I hadn’t tried to tell myself otherwise, but living within the world that held me hostage all the while, felt almost impossible to do. It felt like a betrayal to my former life. Yet, not doing anything, driving myself to exhaustion in search of answers I may never find, felt like a betrayal to my current self.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” I told her.
She blinked at me, perhaps not understanding. But she stepped forward, nodding her head. “I know. But you don’t have to do it alone.”
I felt my heart beat in a heavy thud at her words. Somehow, having Hazel by my side, feeling her warm hand within my own, might make the upcoming task bearable. I only hoped it wouldn’t make the end that much harder.
“Thank you,” I told her honestly. Hazel, if nothing else, was the person I would measure everyone elses kindness against.
[[Next|Chapter Three H4]]
The alley opened up into a blinding expanse. A mirrored tunnel stretched before us, the blue lights of the lanterns bouncing every which direction and making my head swim. I could see several people wandering about, their reflections an infinity below us and off to each side. Hazel was standing at the entrance to it, her face pinched.
“Where is this?”
“The Fashion District is just beyond this tunnel.” She scooted out of the way of two finely dressed women, both with heavy coin purses in hand and undeniable excitement on their face. Hazel’s own face couldn’t look any further from the opposite. “It’s a little… overwhelming. But the runways below have some of the most beautiful reams of fabric. We’ll go there. It’s less… ostentatious.”
Even in the form of a construct, Hazel looked uncomfortable. The lights and the sounds, they all served as a stark anthisis to the home she had created for herself. Peace and tranquility were valued commodities at the apothecary. Here, they were nowhere to be seen.
[[Agree. You don’t like flashy]]
[[You love flashy]]
[[Stick close to her side in case she needs you]]I glanced down the tunnel in an expression that I was certain mirrored Hazel’s. Suddenly, the idea of turning around and existing with Hazel inside the apothecary for the afternoon, seemed much more appealing.
Hazel, reading the expression on my face, shuffled to my side. “Come on,” she said, trying to hype us both up. “We came all this way.”
I wanted to disagree, but, the idea of staying in these clothes for much longer was also unappealing. “To the Fashion District,” I said.
The tunnel stretched before us, broken shards of reflective gems hanging from the lanterns above, while fractal light bounced all around, creating a disco effect. Tittering market goers stumbled along the floors, looking at their reflection with gemstones in their eyes.
We emerged from the tunnel to find the open sky above. Though, the lanterns still had small hand mirrors hanging from them. Several long paths were stretched out in front of us, their floors made of mirrored glass. Beautifully crafted stalls were set upon them, offering various wares, while full busts danced all around us, showcasing the latest designs.
A floating platform slowly meandered through the air where men and women danced, skirts and coat tails ruffling in the wind. As I continued to look at them, I noticed though, how the clothes were inches off the floor, no feet encased within the adorned shoes. They were nothing more than displays, waltzing together in a grand ball over our head.
Next to us, a few people were pointing, some talking to different seamstress in hopes of catering the outfit on display to their own design.
“What do you think?” Hazel asked.
[[This is amazing!]]
[[I don't even know where to begin]]
[[I thought magic wasn't allowed]]I looked at the tunnel excitedly. The lights glittered and the laughter that sounded from within was joyful. People before us looked as if they were genuinely having a good time and I suddenly felt a bloom of anticipation cross me. While the Night Market presented its own problems, there was one thing I couldn’t deny. It’s glitz and glam were appealing and made me giddy each time I discovered something new.
“This looks amazing,” I told her. When Hazel saw I was clearly enamored, her shoulders dropped a little. Not out of disappointment, but instead in a slow show of her anxiety melting slightly away. Maybe she just needed the right person to come here with.
“Come on,” I told her. “To the Fashion District.”
The tunnel stretched before us, broken shards of reflective gems hanging from the lanterns above, while fractal light bounced all around, creating a disco effect. Tittering market goers stumbled along the floors, looking at their reflection with gemstones in their eyes.
We emerged from the tunnel to find the open sky above. Though, the lanterns still had small hand mirrors hanging from them. Several long paths were stretched out in front of us, their floors made of mirrored glass. Beautifully crafted stalls were set upon them, offering various wares, while full busts danced all around us, showcasing the latest designs.
A floating platform slowly meandered through the air where men and women danced, skirts and coat tails ruffling in the wind. As I continued to look at them, I noticed though, how the clothes were inches off the floor, no feet encased within the adorned shoes. They were nothing more than displays, waltzing together in a grand ball over our head.
Next to us, a few people were pointing, some talking to different seamstress in hopes of catering the outfit on display to their own design.
“What do you think?” Hazel asked.
[[This is amazing!]]
[[I don't even know where to begin]]
[[I thought magic wasn't allowed]]I was less concerned about what was before me and far more concerned with the woman at my side. While she was not flesh and blood, it was clear she still experienced everything she would if in her own body. The likeness was so similar, in fact, that I had almost forgotten that she had called forth this form with twigs and vines, imbuing it with her own thoughts so she could stay in the safety of her own show.
Whatever this district was, it was just a passing moment in my day. My main priority was going to be to stick near Hazel. While the woman could clearly take care of herself, I wanted to be there if she needed me. Even if to only assure her that she was not alone.
The tunnel stretched before us, broken shards of reflective gems hanging from the lanterns above, while fractal light bounced all around, creating a disco effect. Tittering market goers stumbled along the floors, looking at their reflection with gemstones in their eyes.
We emerged from the tunnel to find the open sky above. Though, the lanterns still had small hand mirrors hanging from them. Several long paths were stretched out in front of us, their floors made of mirrored glass. Beautifully crafted stalls were set upon them, offering various wares, while full busts danced all around us, showcasing the latest designs.
A floating platform slowly meandered through the air where men and women danced, skirts and coat tails ruffling in the wind. As I continued to look at them, I noticed though, how the clothes were inches off the floor, no feet encased within the adorned shoes. They were nothing more than displays, waltzing together in a grand ball over our head.
Next to us, a few people were pointing, some talking to different seamstress in hopes of catering the outfit on display to their own design.
“What do you think?” Hazel asked.
[[This is amazing!]]
[[I don't even know where to begin]]
[[I thought magic wasn't allowed]]“This is incredible,” I exclaimed, looking around with wide eyes. Everywhere I looked was another mirror, reflecting a different aspect of the crowd all around. Tunics, bloomers and bejeweled shoes were tossed about, the trade between the stalls quick and efficient. It was beautiful in a way that I knew other parts of the district couldn’t offer. Even if I spent the entire day here, I doubted I would see everything.
Hazel grinned at that, her anxiety about leaving the apothecary being replaced with my clear awe of the place. Finally seeing the Night Market for some of its better aspects instead of the horrors that I had so far endured.
“This way,” Hazel said. She led me down a spiraled staircase, also made of glass. We passed by several levels of suspended runways where various states of fashion were displayed. The deeper we went, the louder it seemed. Peeking over the banisters edge, I saw that the bottom level, the only one made of true earth, where whiring machines with hunched over figures sat. Clothes were being stitched together faster than my eyes could track. Hazel stopped us at the level before that.
Here, stalls also lined the runways, but they looked far humbler in nature. Large racks of fabric were piled high, in danger of toppling over the runway's edge. Entire tables filled with clattering buttons were rolled to and fro while stalls boasting thin ribbons of silver and lace wound on bobbins. No one looked up. No one tried to sell their wares like I had seen them do in the Spice District. Everyone here was hard at work, producing more material.
“We of course can go buy you an outfit,” Hazel said, as she began running her fingers along the swaths of material. “I only came down here because I needed a few things for a dress that I am making for myself. If you want, I could make you something too. Would be cheaper, and you might get to save a bit of your money.”
“You’ve already do so much.”
She grinned a little. “It’s not like I’m stitching these by hand, $name.” The way she said my name was conspiratorial but I was afraid I didn’t quite know what she meant.
[[Have Hazel make your clothes]]
[[How much could I buy with the money you gave me?]]“Where do I even begin?” I asked her, looking around with wide eyes. Everywhere I looked was another mirror, reflecting a different aspect of the crowd all around. Tunics, bloomers and bejeweled shoes were tossed about, the trade between the stalls quick and efficient. It was beautiful in a way that I knew other parts of the district couldn’t offer. Even if I spent the entire day here, I doubted I would see everything.
Hazel grinned at that, her anxiety about leaving the apothecary being replaced with my clear awe of the place. Finally seeing the Night Market for some of its better aspects instead of the horrors that I had so far endured.
“This way,” Hazel said. She led me down a spiraled staircase, also made of glass. We passed by several levels of suspended runways where various states of fashion were displayed. The deeper we went, the louder it seemed. Peeking over the banisters edge, I saw that the bottom level, the only one made of true earth, where whiring machines with hunched over figures sat. Clothes were being stitched together faster than my eyes could track. Hazel stopped us at the level before that.
Here, stalls also lined the runways, but they looked far humbler in nature. Large racks of fabric were piled high, in danger of toppling over the runway's edge. Entire tables filled with clattering buttons were rolled to and fro while stalls boasting thin ribbons of silver and lace wound on bobbins. No one looked up. No one tried to sell their wares like I had seen them do in the Spice District. Everyone here was hard at work, producing more material.
“We of course can go buy you an outfit,” Hazel said, as she began running her fingers along the swaths of material. “I only came down here because I needed a few things for a dress that I am making for myself. If you want, I could make you something too. Would be cheaper, and you might get to save a bit of your money.”
“You’ve already do so much.”
She grinned a little. “It’s not like I’m stitching these by hand, $name.” The way she said my name was conspiratorial but I was afraid I didn’t quite know what she meant.
[[Have Hazel make your clothes]]
[[How much could I buy with the money you gave me?]]It was clear with just one look that magic was at work all around us. “I thought this would be illegal,” I told Hazel. Everywhere I looked was another mirror, reflecting a different aspect of the crowd all around. Tunics, bloomers and bejeweled shoes were tossed about, the trade between the stalls quick and efficient. It was beautiful in a way that I knew other parts of the district couldn’t offer. Even if I spent the entire day here, I doubted I would see everything.
Hazel grinned at that, her anxiety about leaving the apothecary being replaced as I relaxed into my surroundings. Finally seeing the Night Market for some of its better aspects instead of the horrors that I had so far endured. “Charms can be bought,” she said. “No one is going to own up to it being anything more.”
I blinked. That much was clear. The thought that the Velvet Guard had probably tried their hardest to figure out how the district was doing all this was a little amusing.
“This way,” Hazel said. She led me down a spiraled staircase, also made of glass. We passed by several levels of suspended runways where various states of fashion were displayed. The deeper we went, the louder it seemed. Peeking over the banisters edge, I saw that the bottom level, the only one made of true earth, where whiring machines with hunched over figures sat. Clothes were being stitched together faster than my eyes could track. Hazel stopped us at the level before that.
Here, stalls also lined the runways, but they looked far humbler in nature. Large racks of fabric were piled high, in danger of toppling over the runway's edge. Entire tables filled with clattering buttons were rolled to and fro while stalls boasting thin ribbons of silver and lace wound on bobbins. No one looked up. No one tried to sell their wares like I had seen them do in the Spice District. Everyone here was hard at work, producing more material.
“We of course can go buy you an outfit,” Hazel said, as she began running her fingers along the swaths of material. “I only came down here because I needed a few things for a dress that I am making for myself. If you want, I could make you something too. Would be cheaper, and you might get to save a bit of your money.”
“You’ve already do so much.”
She grinned a little. “It’s not like I’m stitching these by hand, $name.” The way she said my name was conspiratorial but I was afraid I didn’t quite know what she meant.
[[Have Hazel make your clothes]]
[[How much could I buy with the money you gave me?]]“I would be delighted if you made my clothes,” I said. I couldn’t imagine doing it any other way.
Hazel stomped her feet in giddiness, looping her arm within mine. “Then we must pick out fabric. And you need to tell me the type of style you like.”
We began walking up and down the runway, the choices before me nearly overwhelming. There was so much to choose from that we ended up looping back around twice just so I could get used to everything before me.
When we finally stopped again, Hazel was viewing the wares at a stand to our right, holding out different prints and colors. “Alright,” she said. “First things first. Do you prefer pants, skirts or both?”
[[Pants|Bottoms H][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[Skirt|Bottoms H][$bottoms to "skirt"]]
[[Both|Bottoms H][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]“How much would I be able to buy with my paycheck?” I asked her. Eventually, I would need to figure out just how currency worked here.
“The basics,” she said. “A top and a bottom and a practical pair of shoes.”
It sounded reasonable. Better than what I had, but the surrounding fabrics looked lush and inviting. But I hesitated in the idea of Hazel doing more work for me.
I practically heard her eye roll then. “I’m making the decision for you,” she said, coming to my side. “You need a lot, and I am more than happy to help you out.”
“Hazel…”
“I won’t hear it.” It was her determined voice. The one she used quite often on Milo. “Now, what do you prefer then? Pants, skirts or both.”
[[Pants|Bottoms H][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[Skirt|Bottoms H][$bottoms to "skirt"]]
[[Both|Bottoms H][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]“Alright, you like $bottoms." She grabbed a few things of fabric before I could say anything more, moving on towards the next stall. There was boning and buttons and some sort of ribbing I didn't recognize. "Now, corset, vest or neither?”
“Is the corset tight?” I asked.
“I can make it as tight or loose as you want it to be.”
[[Corset|Vest H][$vest to "corset"]]
[[Vest|Vest H][$vest to "vest"]]
[[Neither|Vest H][$vest to "no vest or corset"]]
<<set $dailyattire to "true">>Hazel nodded. "I like that. I have some thread back at home that will really make it pop too." She tapped her chin. "Do you want an overskirt?"
[[Yes|Overskirt H][$overskirt to "yes"]]
[[No|Overskirt H][$overskirt to "no overskirt"]]"Okay," she said, "and what about a jacket. I think a short one works best for working in the shop because of Mr. Billows. He likes to play with the edges of coats for some reason. But you can pick whatever you'd like. Short or long?"
[[Short|Jacket H][$jacket to "short jacket"]]
[[Long|Jacket H][$jacket to "long jacket"]]I watched as Hazel hummed to herself, looking over the fabric with a keen eye. "You're going to need gloves, too," she mused. "It's so cold in the morning. I'm sure you felt it this morning. We'll get you some wool ones for now. Maybe get some lace or leather ones later for fashion purposes. Oh!" her eyes were bright as she looked at me. "Do you want a headpiece? A hat, or scarf? Or a wrap? It'll help keep you warm when it rains at the very least."
[[Hat|Headpiece H][$headpiece to "hat"]]
[[Scarf|Headpiece H][$headpiece to "scarf"]]
[[Wrap|Headpiece H][$headpiece to "wrap"]]“That should be more than enough," Hazel said. A bundle of fabric rested in her arms, all of which she had plucked from the stands with a soft smile towards the stall owners. No one had asked for payment yet.
Looking over the reams of fabric, I nearly reached out and touched them. They were in an array of different colors and patterns and I couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sight. It was already so different from what I owned.
"When I stitch these, do you want it to be more revealing, modest, or just comfortable?"
[[Revealing, despite all the layers|Modesty H][$modesty to "revealing"]]
[[A conglomeration of layers that fit perfectly. Not too loose or tight|Modesty H][$modesty to "perfectly fitting"]]
[[Modest and comfortable|Modesty H][$modesty to "modest"]]“Something a bit more $modesty. If possible.”
“Of course!” she said. She was nearly dwarfed by all the fabrics, their soft layers piled up to her nose but the sheer exhilaration she exuded was palpable. “I am so excited. Thank you for letting me do this $name! I can’t wait to get home and get started. Maybe we could pick up dinner before heading there? Something special? It’ll be my treat.”
“Well if it isn’t Ms. Hazel.”
Hazel’s face fell.
A woman sat hunched over a yard of spooling green silk that dripped over the edge of the runway and down towards the workers below. Next to me, Hazel held our fabrics close, offering a smile towards her. It was one that I could instantly tell was not her own. “Hello Zelest. I hope the weather is treating you well.”
The woman laughed. She was beautiful by most standards. Long curled hair and a pert mouth. Her skin was unblemished and golden kissed. It was her eyes that got to me though. Pure white and yet they could see through me without hesitation.
“What are you doing out of your hole, Ms. Witch?”
“Shopping,” Hazel responded. “I uh- I had a new dress design I wanted to try.”
The woman, Zelest, cackled. “Did ya now? And were you planning on wearing such a garment? I see some finery in your hands. It's a waste when all you do is sweep up failed tinctures inside that dismal little shop of yours.”
“It’s not all mine,” Hazel said. She was looking at the fabric now as if it were too much. Too extravagant for her. Only moments before she had been overwhelmed with excitement.
[[(Anger) Say something to the woman]]
[[Take Hazel by the arm and get her away from this woman]]
[[Let Hazel handle her own battle]]
“Excuse me,” I said, stepping forward. “Who are you?”
“Zelest Almatrast.” The woman preened. She tilted her head in just such a way that her hair fell over one shoulder like the silk she was weaving, her fingers clicking together rapidly to sew the fabric. “And you?”
“Doesn’t matter. Zelest, are any of the wares we have in our hands from your stall?”
The woman looked over our bundle, her eyes tracing every inch. The white orbs became more milky as she looked, taking in shapes and heat but not the image itself. “The pearl belt. That one is my own design.”
I nodded. “Thanks.” Turning to Hazel, I tugged it from her hand and slammed it down on the counter. “You can have it back. I don’t buy from people like you.”
The woman laughed. “Oh, Ms. Witch. You have a lackey. Congratulations. Must have gotten old talking to yourself. Time for someone other than the Next boy to pant around your heels.” Leaning forward, she dropped the silk, clicking her long nails together. “Tell me, does this one know what it is you do with your free time? Looking for that dead sister of yours.”
Hazel’s cheeks flushed. “Come on,” she pleaded. “Let’s just go.”
Hazel’s head was down, tears glittering in her eyes and her shoulders slumped in such obvious defeat. She had warned me about this. Before we even left the apothecary. Hearing it then had made my blood boil. Seeing it now made it worse.
“Listen here you blind bitch, I don’t know who you are, and honestly, I don’t care. Your wares are cheap and seeing as you’re nearly on the bottom rung it's clear your designs aren’t as spectacular as you believe them to be. So why don’t you keep stitching away, and let the rest of us live our lives. We’re all much happier without your screeching voice harping at us from across the market.”
The woman’s white eyes flared black, her face morphing like melted wax into something ugly and cruel. I wasn’t going to give her the time of day, though.
Turning, I looped my arm through Hazel and began walking. “Don’t look back at her,” I told Hazel. Her eyes were wide and she stared right ahead.
[[I'm sorry if I overstepped my bounds]]
[[Fuck people like that woman]]
[[Are you okay?|Chapter Three H]]
Hazel shuffled her feet back and forth, clearly uncomfortable. Thus far in the district, we had been met with indifference. It wasn’t until this moment that Hazel’s words back at the apothecary hit me. That this is what she dealt with most of the time when she ventured out.
Looping my arm within hers, I tugged. “Come on. We don’t need to listen to her,” I said.
The woman cackled, her long nails clacking together as she spun the silk. “Oh, Ms. Witch. You have a lackey. Congratulations. Must have gotten old talking to yourself. Time for someone other than the Next boy to pant around your heels.” Hazel didn’t answer. I could see her slowly shutting down at the woman’s words. “Tell me, does this one know what it is you do with your free time? Looking for that dead sister of yours.”
At my side, Hazel stiffened. Zelest saw it, her smile twisting into something predatory as she discovered the chink in Hazel’s armor. “Secrets secrets, Ms. Witch. You Albright’s just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
I didn’t let Hazel stay any longer. Gripping her tight, I all but dragged her away from the woman, walking past several stalls and turning around a corner until she was far from out of sight.
[[Fuck people like that woman]]
[[Are you okay?|Chapter Three H]]Hazel shuffled her feet back and forth, clearly uncomfortable. Thus far in the district, we had been met with indifference. It wasn’t until this moment that Hazel’s words back at the apothecary hit me. That this is what she dealt with most of the time when she ventured out.
I watched her steadily, waiting for a cue. This was her world and her battle and I didn’t know how or when I could step in. Or even if I should.
The woman cackled, her long nails clacking together as she spun the silk. “Oh, Ms. Witch. You have a lackey.” The woman was looking at me with her milky eyes, hungry for whatever it is she saw. “Congratulations. Must have gotten old talking to yourself. Time for someone other than the Next boy to pant around your heels.” Hazel didn’t answer. I could see her slowly shutting down at the woman’s words. “Tell me, does this one know what it is you do with your free time? Looking for that dead sister of yours.”
The tears that sprung to Hazel’s eyes were quick as she dropped the fabric and turned to run. I stood there for a moment, staring at the silks and the finery before slowly bending down and gathering them up in my arms.
[[Follow Hazel]]
[[Tell the woman off for what she did]]
I followed Hazel, not giving the woman a second glance, I could feel myself shuddering at the cruelty of her words. The look on Hazel’s face had been betrayal. Against her better judgement she had tried today, and within the hour it had gotten thrown back in her face.
I found her not far away, standing near a tree with her arms crossed, wiping furiously at her eyes. When she spotted me, the bundles of fabric in my arms, she quickly came over, unloading them.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left you with all this.”
“Don’t apologize,” I told her. “You have nothing to apologize for.” When she continued to take the fabric from my arms, I reached out, resting my hand on her wrist. “Hazel, you have nothing to be sorry for in this situation.” I needed to make that clear. The woman was cruel without purpose and suddenly, I understood all too well why Hazel kept to her shop and her close friends. If this was what she was greeted with, why even attempt to go outside?
Looking around, I swallowed a bit, searching for something to put distance between us and the moment. “Um, how do we pay for all this? I can go take care of it, and then we can go home.”
Before me, I watched as Hazel gathered herself, bruising off her skirts and tucking her hair back in her scarf. “The little tags. We bring them to the front stall, and they tally everything up. End of the day they divy it to the stalls that we took items from.
“Good,” I said with an awkward nod. “Let's go do that.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H5]]As Hazel rushed away, I looked at the woman, holding our wares from the day close to my chest. “You know,” I said. “Hazel might be one of the kindest people I have ever met.”
“Is she now?” The woman laughed.
“What does that say about you that you find it funny to make someone like her cry?”
The woman rolled her eyes. “It says nothing about me, dearie. It says more about you that you believe the act. That right there is one of the most potent witches around. Don’t let her fool you. She can slit you in two with just a blink of an eye.”
“Yeah?” I challenged. Leaning forward, I rested my hands on her counter, leveling my gaze with her milky white one. “Then you better thank whoever you pray to, that she hasn’t done so to you yet. Because if that was me, you would have been tossed to the bottom rung of this district and forgotten in a heap of your own pathetic designs.”
I didn’t wait as I turned away, rushing after Hazel. I felt my skin flushed and hot with both anger and disappointment. How could anyone treat her so cruel?
I found Hazel by a tree, wiping at her eyes. When she noticed me, she rushed forward, grabbing at the reams of fabric in my hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left you with all that.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. She wouldn’t look me in the eye as she took half of our purchases. “Do you want me to go pay for all this?” I offered. Anything to get us some distance from the moment.
“Oh, yes. We probably should do that.” Pulling at a stack of brown tags, she handed them to me. “We bring these to the front stall, and they tally everything up. End of the day they divy it to the stalls that we took items from.
“Good,” I said with an awkward nod. “Let's go do that.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H5]]We walked for some time, past a few other stalls where the vendors had a sneer on their lips. I could feel my blood boiling. Now that I was aware of it, I saw the way most of them were looking at her, and by turn, me. They were older individuals, ones who had been around when her mother was, but they certainly were not forgetting what had transpired. And they were holding Hazel responsible for a dead witches folly.
As the market began to even out, we found ourselves within a thick grove of trees. Mirrors hung from the boughs and around us, a few were sitting, having a picnic or working on their own designs. The atmosphere was calmer here.
Turning, I looked at Hazel. She had remained quiet throughout our walk.
“Fuck people like that woman,” I blurted out.
Hazel startled, stumbling over her own feet as she stopped on the path to look at me. I could feel my own cheeks heated with more anger than I thought possible, my hands shaking with what had just happened.
“You don’t deserve that. No one deserves that but you especially don’t–” she cut me off as she came over and wrapped her arms around me in a hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She was warm to the touch, her breath ghosting across my cheek in such a way that sent a shiver down my spine. Lightly, I splayed my arms across her back, feeling the way she surged towards me on tip toe, not wanting to break the contact yet either.
It was a long moment before we pulled away, and when we did, she was blushing profusely.
She turned from me then, hurriedly gathering the materials she had dropped. “I think we’ll be able to make you a bunch of decent clothes from this,” she was saying, her words coming out quick. “I have some other fabrics that I think would really add to the coat. If we’re lucky, we can make you several outfits.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H5]]We walked for some time, past a few other stalls where the vendors had a sneer on their lips. I could feel my blood boiling. Now that I was aware of it, I saw the way most of them were looking at her, and by turn, me. They were older individuals, ones who had been around when her mother was, but they certainly were not forgetting what had transpired. And they were holding Hazel responsible for a dead witches folly.
As the market began to even out, we found ourselves within a thick grove of trees. Mirrors hung from the boughs and around us, a few were sitting, having a picnic or working on their own designs. The atmosphere was calmer here.
Turning, I looked at Hazel. She had remained quiet throughout our walk.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly. Of course she probably wasn’t, but I didn’t know how to fix this for her.
“I’m used to it,” was her response. I felt my heart ache at that.
“I really wish you didn’t have to be.”
Stopping, Hazel turned to me, her eyes a little glassy as she stared at me for a long-drawn-out moment.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me.
She was warm to the touch, her breath ghosting across my cheek in such a way that sent a shiver down my spine. Lightly, I splayed my arms across her back, feeling the way she surged towards me on tip toe, not wanting to break the contact yet either.
It was a long moment before we pulled away, and when we did, she was blushing profusely.
She turned from me then, hurriedly gathering the materials she had dropped. “I think we’ll be able to make you a bunch of decent clothes from this,” she was saying, her words coming out quick. “I have some other fabrics that I think would really add to the coat. If we’re lucky, we can make you several outfits.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H5]]We walked for some time, past a few other stalls where the vendors had a sneer on their lips. I could feel my blood boiling. Now that I was aware of it, I saw the way most of them were looking at her, and by turn, me. They were older individuals, ones who had been around when her mother was, but they certainly were not forgetting what had transpired. And they were holding Hazel responsible for a dead witch's folly.
As the market began to even out, we found ourselves within a thick grove of trees. Mirrors hung from the boughs and around us, a few were sitting, having a picnic or working on their own designs. The atmosphere was calmer here.
Turning, I looked at Hazel. She had remained quiet throughout our walk.
“Hazel,” I began softly. “I’m sorry. If I overstepped my bounds back there I–”
“Are you kidding?” she was looking at me, her eyes bright and tears filling them quickly. “I can count on one hand the amount of people that have stood up for me let alone the amount of people who have stood up to Zelest. Thank you.”
Coming over, she wrapped her arms around my neck. She was warm to the touch, her breath ghosting across my cheek in such a way that sent a shiver down my spine. Lightly, I splayed my arms across her back, feeling the way she surged towards me on tip-toe, not wanting to break the contact yet either.
It was a long moment before we pulled away, and when we did, she was blushing profusely.
She turned from me, hurriedly gathering the materials she had dropped. “I think we’ll be able to make you a bunch of decent clothes from this,” she was saying, her words coming out quick. “I have some other fabrics that I think would really add to the coat. If we’re lucky, we can make you several outfits.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H5]]As we walked, I got out my coin purse, ready to clamber my way through paying for the objects at hand. Hazel gave me a soft smile though, taking the bag from me and shaking out some coins. It wasn’t all of it but she assured me it was enough. Gathering the tickets from each garment, I watched as she walked towards a stall, set a little ways away from all the others, paying for our purchases.
Standing back, I watched her, sighing a bit at the way the day had shaped out to be. I had hoped that venturing out of the apothecary would be a better experience and while I knew Zelest was not a fair representation of the Night Market, it still left me disheartened. Yet, something else developed with it all. Something I hadn’t quite considered.
When I saw the way others had treated Hazel, I felt protective. I wanted to take her away from it all and make sure she knew that their words were not true. It was more than I had a week ago, and it certainly was not a feeling I expected to have when I first found myself panting on my hands and knees, on the dirty cobblestone streets.
Live your life while surviving.
Was that what I was doing? Unconscious or not?
“All paid,” Hazel said, returning to my side. Her face looked brighter, the tears dried. “You alright? You look like you have deep thoughts.
[[I think we should just head back to the apothecary|Chapter Three H6]]
[[What did she mean about your sister? I thought you only had a brother]]As we wandered out of the Fashion District and back towards home, I couldn’t help the small glances I kept shooting towards Hazel. She had been publicly humiliated and yet she already had a smile back on her face as she began chatting about the little things we saw. The missing bricks in the alley that she said was only around every fourth moon. The small art supply store that she claimed had the best oil paints. When we stopped to help a man with his wayward dogs, gathering the six that had snapped off the leash and were now running freely inside a fountain square, I found myself laughing. More so than I had since arriving in the Night Market.
When we got back to the apothecary, I helped her set the bundles of fabric down on the table. With her hands on her hips, she observed it all with a raised brow. “Well,” she said. “I think it shouldn’t take me more than a day.”
“How?” There was no way. What we got was surely over a week's worth of work.
“My needles work together and through the night,” she winked. Ducking behind the counter, she grabbed a sewing kit, looking eager to get started on her new project. The apothecary was warm, and the hearth was keeping the chill of the day away.
“What are you planning on doing with your free evening?” she asked. “It doesn’t look like we have any orders and honestly, you really should allow yourself a night off. I know the Night Market can be a bit confusing, but you should at least get to know it a bit more.”
“If it is alright, I’d like to stay with you this evening?”
“Of course it’s alright,” Hazel said. Her smile bright and infectious. “Allow me to just get these clothes going, and then we can perhaps have dinner? Maybe talk to Billows a bit more. You two seemed to really be hitting it off.”
I nodded at her, leaving her to do her work while I went in search of the cat.
[[Next|Chapter Three H 7]]
“What did she mean back there?” I asked. “About your sister? I thought you only had a brother.” I had only heard of one sibling in the last week and had only found signs of the missing brother throughout the household. Hazel had always spoken of him fondly but she made no mention of ever having a sister. Other than Milo, no one even came to visit her that wasn’t a customer.
Hazel cleared her throat. “She was being cruel,” she said, keeping her tone even. “Malcolm was born female. He was able to correct it when he was older, but there are plenty of people who didn’t treat the transition kindly. Zelest was one of them. She has always refused to refer to him as male.”
“Why would it matter if he took steps to become fully male?” I asked, not seeing where the problem could be.
“It shouldn’t,” she agreed. “And I’ve heard people justify it in strange ways. Some of them thought his transformation was a way to distance himself from my mother and let him off the hook for what our family line had done. Others just thought it was unnatural. Which in the end is funny given the kind of society we have here. I think what it came down to though is they don’t like us. And they were looking for any reason to continue to not like us. What Malcolm did was different and… I don’t know. I guess they just looked at that differenced and decided to throw ire at it than leaving us alone.”
[[Stare at her in shock]]
[[Head back to yell at Zelest some more]]I could only stare at Hazel. There was nothing I could say to the horrors she so easily told me of. I felt my eyes fill with sorrow over the thought of what her and her brother had gone through, what she was still enduring.
“Hazel, I–”
“It’s okay,” she assured me, before I could apologize for something far out of my control. “People like that get what they deserve.”
“Do they?” I wasn’t so certain about that.
Hazel nodded in earnest, trying to shake off the events as we continued to walk further and further away from the market stall. “I believe she is miserable and takes it out on who she sees as weak. I am unfortunately one of them. But Malcolm, well, I think you two would have gotten along, actually. He didn’t put up with Zelest. And I am certain he has called her worse than a hag to her face.”
“So he dealt with this too.”
She nodded. “More than me, I’m sure. The amount of times I had to patch up his hands after a fight is more than I care to admit.” It was an oddity, in the end. Two siblings, both very opposite with how they dealt with cruelty. I couldn’t say I faulted Malcolm for his decisions, though.
[[Next|Chapter Three H6]]Turning, I went to go yell at Zelest. To publicly berate the woman. Hit her, if I saw fit. Hazel caught my arm though, and shook her head. “It is not worth it.”
“People like that shouldn’t get away with doing those things.”
“I don’t believe they do,” Hazel said earnestly. “I believe she is miserable and takes it out on who she sees as weak. I am unfortunately one of them. But Malcolm, well, I think you two would have gotten along, actually. He didn’t put up with Zelest. And I am certain he has called her worse than a hag to her face.”
My shoulders dropped. “I’m still sorry that is something you have to go through.”
“Me too. But,” she looked at me with a smile. “One good thing has come out of all this?”
“What?” I asked.
“I realized what an amazing person you truly are.”
It did little to settle the ire that burned in my stomach over the likes of Zelest. But, I stayed my hand. If only because Hazel didn’t deserve to see it.
[[Next|Chapter Three H6]]Stepping outside, I came to the side of the apothecary. The moss covered stone stretched upwards to where my window sat. Above that, the piping chimney. It was hard to believe I had been here for nearly a week. I wondered how quickly those days would turn into a month. I had kept myself busy enough, hoping not to come across anything too dire in order to give my body a break, and yet hoping all the same that something would be uncovered to shed light on my situation. I probably needed to venture into the market far more than just today for anything of note to happen. If whoever had brought me here was still concerned with me, it would probably benefit me more to be seen in the public eye.
Sighing, I came upon a large hydrangea bush. Each blossom a deep burgundy and tipped with waxy gold. I could hear the chattering of something deep within the leaves. The pixies, according to Hazel. Life here was not limited to simply what we saw. While the pixies apparently caused problems within most of the Night Market, they left Hazel alone. She claimed it was because she left them bowls of cream at night. Bowls of cream I was almost certain Mr. Billows was drinking. The only reason the pixies truly left Hazel alone was because of that cat.
[[Wander the garden in search of Billows]]
[[Wait for Hazel on the garden bench]]
[[Head down towards the riverbank]]I entered the gardens, in search of the gray cat, ducking my gaze beneath full bushes of creeping tomato vines. Hazel said he wandered and wasn’t often seen unless he was hungry or felt like he needed to keep an eye on things. I supposed that not having him around was a compliment really. It meant he maybe trusted me enough to leave me alone with her.
The garden was set in thick boxy rows of reclaimed wood, their contents overflowing with lush greenery and vegetables I had never seen before. Tucked beneath some leaves, sat peeking gnomes, the likes of which looked paint chipped and worn. No Mr. Billow’s though.
“Alright,” Hazel called, bouncing down the steps, “needles are doing their magic.”
“Nice gnomes,” I told her.
“The summer of the gnome invasion,” she said solemnly. “They’ve never quite left.”
“Do I want to know?” I asked with a raised brow.
She shook her head. “Most likely not.” A basket was my her side, tucked in the crook of her arm. She looked at me, standing in the dim light, the fog rolling in around us in nighttime curls. It was how Hazel denoted the evening hours. When the wisps became brighter and the dew thick and heavy. “Ready?” she asked.
“Where are we going?” I looked towards the burnt alley with minor hesitation. I really hoped we would not be going back there again.
“I thought I would take you to one of my old hideouts,” she said.
[[How long have you lived here?]]
[[This is the most land I’ve seen in the Night Market so far]]
[[It’s amazing that this was not touched by the fire]]
There was a river that was down past the garden. I could hear it at night when my window was open and could see the edges of the glittering water through the trees. I decided to wait for Hazel down there, figuring the fresh air and the small walk would do me good. I had been cooped up within the apothecary for the last week and while I didn’t mind the isolation at the time, it was clear that I needed to start moving around more. Exploring when I could. I had been assured that anything behind Hazel’s gate was safe and was curious how far the property went back.
The river itself was more of a creek than anything else. The water looked like it could come up no further than my ankles and flowed over smooth river stone. Tree’s lined either side, their boughs reaching for each other in a leafy embrace and providing shade. Not that any was needed in a place that was perpetually night. I could see small toads and other little bits of life skittering around the silt edge, lapping up the water and skipping across small rocks. It was peaceful here. And with no lanterns, it almost felt normal.
“I love this creek.”
I looked over my shoulder to find Hazel. A basket was by her side, tucked in the crook of her arm. She looked at me, standing in the dim light, the fog rolling in around us in nighttime curls. It was how Hazel denoted the evening hours. When the wisps became brighter and the dew thick and heavy.
“We used to play here all the time when we were little,” she said, looking out over the water, lost in a memory. When she realized what she was doing, she shook her head a little, offering me a warm smile. “Ready?” she asked.
“Where are we going?”
“I thought I would take you to one of my old hideouts,” she said.
[[How long have you lived here?]]
[[This is the most land I’ve seen in the Night Market so far]]
[[It’s amazing that this was not touched by the fire]]
There was a small bench that was hidden among the wildflowers that had sprouted up near the garden fence. It was old and wooden and looked like it had once been a deep blue but the lights from the lanterns and wisps had bleached it long ago. I decided to sit there as I waited for Hazel, tucking my legs beneath me and taking in the fresh, cool air.
The garden was set in thick boxy rows of reclaimed wood, their contents overflowing with lush greenery and vegetables I had never seen before. Tucked beneath some leaves, sat peeking gnomes, the likes of which looked paint chipped and worn.
“Alright,” Hazel called, bouncing down the steps, “needles are doing their magic.”
“Nice gnomes,” I told her.
“The summer of the gnome invasion,” she said solemnly. “They’ve never quite left since then.”
“Do I want to know?” I asked with a raised brow.
She shook her head. “Most likely not.” A basket was by her side, tucked in the crook of her arm. She looked at me, standing in the dim light, the fog rolling in around us in nighttime curls. It was how Hazel denoted the evening hours. When the wisps became brighter and the dew thick and heavy. “Ready?” she asked.
“Where are we going?” I looked towards the burnt alley with minor hesitation. I really hoped we would not be going back there again.
“I thought I would take you to one of my old hideouts,” she said.
[[How long have you lived here?]]
[[This is the most land I’ve seen in the Night Market so far]]
[[It’s amazing that this was not touched by the fire]]
We walked slowly, meandering down the river path. It was nice to feel unrushed. Taking our time to get to our destination felt decadent in a world that was always in a bustle.
“So I know you were born in the Night Market,” I said. “But how long have you lived in that house?”
“Born there too,” she said. “In fact,” she paused, looking around. There was a small field that she pointed to. One sequestered away by a tall grove of white birch trees. They made a perfect circle. “I was born in there. My mother was very in tune with nature and had both Malcolm and I in the woods. Said it was what made us strong.”
I looked towards the small section of land. The ground looked lush and overgrown now. It had obviously not been touched in years.
“When my mother passed, I couldn’t imagine leaving this place,” she said. “It holds some bad memories, but it also holds so much history. It’s one of my favorite things. I love looking around my home and being reminded of so many perfect moments. Days spent by the creek, splashing with the kelpies. Dancing under the wisps at dawn. The feel of my feet within the bare grass just after a heavy rain. I don’t know if I would trade it for anything.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H8]]We walked slowly, meandering down the river path. It was nice to feel unrushed. Taking our time to get to our destination felt decadent in a world that was always in a bustle.
“I know compared to how big the market is, I’ve barely seen anything but this is the most amount of land I think I’ve run across. Except for the beach. But, I don’t know. Bad association with that one I suppose.”
She hummed in response before leaning down and plucking a bloom of sweat pea. It’s petals were vibrant and seemed to curl towards Hazel in appreciation. “There are area’s like this, of course. Entire forest and meadow districts that are untouched. Mainly because they are protected. But this is the only stretch of land that I know of that is not under jurisdiction. Here, everything can grow wild and free. My mother made sure of that.”
I tilted my head towards her. I had never gotten the sense that her mother was a good person, but Hazel spoke softly of her at times. “How so?” I asked.
“When she first settled here, the Night Market was more wild. Then, city life began to encroach. She set up barriers, making sure that no one could see what was beyond our gates.” Hazel grinned, a small little secret she was letting me in on. “Unless you have walked through those garden arches, you won’t even see the expanse behind the house. It’ll be nothing more than a thick grove of trees, butted up against a tall stone wall.”
“And no one questions what's on the other side?”
She shrugged. “If they do, they haven’t bothered to look.”
[[Next|Chapter Three H8]]The surrounding area was lush, full of deep forest growth that had taken over bits of crumbled fencing here and there. It looked as if there was a small shed nearby. One that ivy and moss had claimed. The grass in those areas was tall and swayed gently, providing shelter for small animals that sometimes peeked their head out, curious about Hazel and I.
“I can’t believe none of this was destroyed in the fire,” I said in awe. There was so much here that could have gone up in smoke. But the burnt out alley stopped just outside of Hazel’s property.
“It never was given the chance to,” she said. “The fire was controlled in that alley. Granted, the day it happened, Malcolm and I ran. We sat in this river, in fact, watching as the alley burned, almost certain our home was going to be destroyed.”
I blinked at her. “That must have been terrifying.”
“It was. I was sixteen? Maybe a little older. I don’t remember now. Time runs strange around us and most of the time when we speak of ages we’re just estimating. But I was young. I remember watching the alley go up in smoke, the lanterns bursting in these arcs of fire. I was so scared. But there was nothing we could really do but sit in the river, shivering until the flames finally died down.”
I stared at her. Hazel seemed so young and yet had gone through so much already. It made what was happening to me feel a little less hollow. As if I wasn’t alone in the heartache of the world around me.
[[Next|Chapter Three H8]]“Come on,” she said. Her smile was achingly sweet as she took my hand, quickening our steps. The river was starting to grow deeper, the middle of it a swirling whirlpool that looked like it dropped into nothing. Across the bank I could see a crude tire swing, hanging from a thick branch. It was clear that the person swinging from it would just barely skim the water.
“Over here,” Hazel beckoned. There was a fallen log that lay down stream, stretching the width of the water. Letting go of my hand, Hazel ran across it with practiced ease, waiting for me on the other side. I carefully stepped up on it, and began walking across
When I reached the other side, she was grinning brightly at me, excitement playing across her face.
“What are we doing?” I asked, just a tad bit breathless.
“I’m taking you to my secret spot.” Around her, the ferns stretched towards her ankles, brushing against her in greeting.
The secret spot turned out to be a grove of overgrown vines and leaves, all arcing upwards to form a dome. There was a small hole in the front, carved out and meticulously cut away. Hazel ducked within it without hesitation and I followed.
The world within the bramble dome was bright. Orbs of sun were strung within the vines, hanging from the arcing ceiling and brightening the confines with a heated wave of golden light. Hazel sat in the middle of it all, her hair highlighted with the glow from above.
“Hi,” she said simply.
[[What is this place?]]
[[Is that actual sunlight?]]
[[You’re beautiful]]Our surroundings reminded me of the sitting area upstairs. There was something worn about the bramble dome. Like an old familiar blanket of Hazel’s wrapping around the two of us. She was happy here. A childlike nature came over her when crawling within these walls.
“What is this place?” I asked, simply wanting to hear whatever stories this place held.
“My secret hideaway,” she whispered, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Malcolm and I made it when we were little. Used to be our fort. Took us nearly an entire year to weave everything together. Don’t even get me started on the time a tree fell and took out part of the roof.”
“You guys built this as kids?”
“Malcolm was really good at building. He helped replace a lot of the walls within the shop, too. But when we were putting this together, I used to be the one to scout out and gather materials. He even built me a cart to load everything in. I’d bring it back here and then go back up to the shop to help my mother. He’d stay out here, building until he fell asleep.”
The dome was only wide enough to be comfortable but not too big that it was easy for two grown adults to move around. Hammocks were hung on the far side of the dome, stacked one on top of the other. A small chest sat near them, along with a box of wooden toys that looked well-loved. Yellow daisies sprouted from the earthen floor near the perimeter, and in the middle, was a soft patchwork blanket with a few old pillows.
“Come. Sit with me.” Hazel patted the blanket, beckoning me forward.
I sat down on the blanket close to her. She looked younger. Happier here. This was not the Hazel of the Apothecary. The woman that helped whoever needed it. Here was an excited young woman, her cheeks lit with life.
“I brought snacks,” she giggled. The basket she had brought with her sat innocently by her side. I had seen her with it when we had first started our walk, but it had disappeared somewhere in the midst of it. It glowed faintly with a green iridescent light before fading away. Grabbing the basket, she pulled out oilcloths of cheese along with loaves of freshly baked bread and ample supplies of plums and what looked like a cobbler of some sort.
“That’s more than a snack,” I laughed.
“I like to be prepared.”
[[Where did you learn to cook?]]
[[Did you always want to run an apothecary?]]
[[So it's clear you have magic]]I felt the heat from above warm my skin. Bright balls of energy crackled around the room, casting the dome in a warm glow. It heated the earth beneath. The smell of cut grass and churned wheat lingered.
“Is that actual sunlight?” It couldn’t be but I could think of no other way to describe it.
“You noticed!” Hazel was bouncing on her knees, looking up at the string of lights. “Malcolm hung them for me. A long time ago. We didn’t have them when we were kids but he did a job once where the man couldn’t pay and had to provide compensation with enchantments. He got himself some windows for his place and had enough of the charms left over to make me these lights. Aren’t they beautiful?” she was tipping her head back, feeling the light of it drench her.
“Is that a thing here? Sun charms?”
“They’re expensive but yes.”
The dome was only wide enough to be comfortable but not too big that it was easy for two grown adults to move around. Hammocks were hung on the far side of the dome, stacked one on top of the other. A small chest sat near them, along with a box of wooden toys that looked well-loved. Yellow daisies sprouted from the earthen floor near the perimeter, and in the middle, was a soft patchwork blanket with a few old pillows.
“Come. Sit with me.” Hazel patted the blanket, beckoning me forward.
I sat down on the blanket close to her. She looked younger. Happier here. This was not the Hazel of the Apothecary. The woman that helped whoever needed it. Here was an excited young woman, her cheeks lit with life.
“I brought snacks,” she giggled. The basket she had brought with her sat innocently by her side. I had seen her with it when we had first started our walk, but it had disappeared somewhere in the midst of it. It glowed faintly with a green iridescent light before fading away. Grabbing the basket, she pulled out oilcloths of cheese along with loaves of freshly baked bread and ample supplies of plums and what looked like a cobbler of some sort.
“That’s more than a snack,” I laughed.
“I like to be prepared.”
[[Where did you learn to cook?]]
[[Did you always want to run an apothecary?]]
[[So it's clear you have magic]]I felt my breath stutter. Kneeling before me, she looked perfect. I couldn’t describe it any other way. “You’re beautiful,” I told her, my voice almost in awe.
She looked startled only momentarily before her smile became wide and toothy. Smoothing out her skirts, she ducked her head. “So are you,” she whispered. “Or handsome,” she frowned. “Beautiful or handsome. Which is it you would like to be called? Or I could come up with something else all together? Effervescent? No. That sounds like a carbonated drink. Maybe charming? Unless you don’t want to be charming,” a small frown appeared between her eyes. “Do you know I met someone once who considered the word charming to be negative due to his cultural habits of charms protecting you from little devils that inhabited the cracks in their land? I don’t think you come from that land, but it’s still polite to check. I always check. I…”
“Hazel,” I said, laughing a bit. Her eyes snapped towards mine, nerves coloring them. “Thank you,” I said simply.
“Oh,” she brightened. “Okay. Good.”
The dome was only wide enough to be comfortable but not too big that it was easy for two grown adults to move around. Hammocks were hung on the far side of the dome, stacked one on top of the other. A small chest sat near them, along with a box of wooden toys that looked well-loved. Yellow daisies sprouted from the earthen floor near the perimeter, and in the middle, was a soft patchwork blanket with a few old pillows.
“Come. Sit with me.” Hazel patted the blanket, beckoning me forward.
I sat down on the blanket close to her. She looked younger. Happier here. This was not the Hazel of the Apothecary. The woman that helped whoever needed it. Here was an excited young woman, her cheeks lit with life.
“I brought snacks,” she giggled. The basket she had brought with her sat innocently by her side. I had seen her with it when we had first started our walk, but it had disappeared somewhere in the midst of it. It glowed faintly with a green iridescent light before fading away. Grabbing the basket, she pulled out oilcloths of cheese along with loaves of freshly baked bread and ample supplies of plums and what looked like a cobbler of some sort.
“That’s more than a snack,” I laughed.
“I like to be prepared.”
[[Where did you learn to cook?]]
[[Did you always want to run an apothecary?]]
[[So it's clear you have magic]]“Where did you learn how to cook?” I had been eating Hazel’s meals for over a week now and she was more than just an average cook. Unlike some of the other things she did, I never saw her take shortcuts with her meals. She was known for getting up early in the morning to set a loaf of dough out on the window sill to rise.
We settled on the blanket, the food resting between us. She cut the loaf in thin strips, spreading marmalade across each slice. “I picked tricks up a bit of everywhere, actually. My mother was a phenomenal cook. She always had something stewing in a pot over an open fire. I grew up helping with that. It’s tradition for the women in our family. Not the cooking but the passing down of the spell work that happens with the cooking. She tried to instill as much of that as she could with me.”
Handing me a slice, she watched as I bit into it. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. No one would ever be able to convince me otherwise, that Hazel Albright wasn’t the best cook around.
“Then,” she said, “I started watching everyone in the market. I spent a lot of my time when I was little within the Spice District and the old Yeast Mills. I would sit for hours and watch how they cooked. What they used. The little things they did that were different from anyone else. I was obsessed with it. Then one day, I just started doing it myself. Seeing what worked. What didn’t.” She shrugged. “I’ve also had a lot of years to perfect it. Milo doesn’t cook, as you may have guessed. Malcolm didn’t either.”
The love for her brother shown clear. She spoke of him often and with such reverence. Yet, he wasn’t here.
[[Your brother sounds like a kind person]]
[[What happened to your brother?]]
[[You and your brother sound like you were close]]I had been eating Hazel’s meals for over a week now and she was more than just an average cook. Unlike some of the other things she did, I never saw her take shortcuts with her meals. She was known for getting up early in the morning to set a loaf of dough out on the window sill to rise. It was a wonder to me as to why she owned an apothecary as opposed to a bakery.
“Did you always want to own an apothecary?” I asked her.
We settled on the blanket, the food resting between us. She cut the loaf in thin strips, spreading marmalade across each slice. “I never have really thought of anything else. I was expected to work here, with my mother. When she passed I didn’t see any reason not to continue. With a few changes of course.”
Handing me a slice, she watched as I bit into it. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. No one would ever be able to convince me otherwise, that Hazel Albright wasn’t the best cook around.
“I always knew I wanted to help people, though. Make them happy. It’s why I don’t sell hexes. I want my wares to be used for good. It’s also why I love cooking. The look on your face right now is absolutely worth all of it. Milo does a happy dance when he likes his food, too,” she laughed. “When I’m feeling down I sometimes have him over for dinner just to watch it. Malcolm was a bit harder to please with food on the surface. But I’d always see him sneak an extra muffin, or dip his spoon in the preserves jar when he thought I wasn’t looking.”
The love for her brother shown clear. She spoke of him often and with such reverence. Yet, he wasn’t here.
[[Your brother sounds like a kind person]]
[[What happened to your brother?]]
[[You and your brother sound like you were close]]I had been eating Hazel’s meals for over a week now and she was more than just an average cook. Unlike some of the other things she did, I never saw her take shortcuts with her meals. She was known for getting up early in the morning to set a loaf of dough out on the window sill to rise. It was a wonder to me as to why she owned an apothecary as opposed to a bakery.
“This is magic, isn’t it. You have magic.” There was no other reason for her food being as good as it was. Given that I now knew she could create entire constructs of herself to wander the streets, there was no doubt she was doing something to her cooking.
Hazel laughed loudly as we settled on the blanket, the food resting between us. She cut the loaf in thin strips, spreading marmalade across each slice. “In a way,” she said, a secret resting at the corners of her lips. “There is a certain amount of magic I think that goes into preparing food. Magic is simply basic principles of ritual. You just have to know how to do it right to create something wonderful.”
Handing me a slice, she watched as I bit into it. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. No one would ever be able to convince me otherwise, that Hazel Albright wasn’t the best cook around. You also would not be able to convince me that the herbalist that her wares proclaimed her to be, was the extent of Hazel Albright’s spell work.
“Magic isn’t allowed in the Night Market,” Hazel was saying, her eyes averted. “Herbal remedies and putting together small little pouches is fine. But magic from your fingertips is forbidden.” She looked at me then, leveling her gaze. I could see the faint glow of green on her hands.
Nodding my head, I vowed silently to not say a word about what she could do. “Well,” I said. “Your food is phenomenal. Magic or not.”
“Milo does a happy dance when he likes his food, too,” she laughed. “When I’m feeling down I sometimes have him over for dinner just to watch it. Malcolm was a bit harder to please with food on the surface. But I’d always see him sneak an extra muffin, or dip his spoon in the preserves jar when he thought I wasn’t looking.”
The love for her brother shown clear. She spoke of him often and with such reverence. Yet, he wasn’t here.
[[Your brother sounds like a kind person]]
[[What happened to your brother?]]
[[You and your brother sound like you were close]]I looked at her, feeling my chest ache. Malcolm Albright. I saw signs of him everywhere in the apothecary. I was almost certain that the paintings upstairs were all his. Yet, with the way he spoke, I suspected the worst. “Your brother sounds a lot like you. A kind person.”
She let out a bark of laughter at that. One she quickly covered with her hand. “Sorry,” she breathed. “Sorry. I just don’t often hear Malcolm described as that. Don’t get me wrong,” she said quickly. “He had a heart of gold. He really did. But he was quick to call people out. Quick to point out flaws. He never let anyone get away with anything. It’s what I loved about him, actually. He had this expectation for everyone to be the best they could be and if you weren’t that, he was going to make sure you knew. Made so many people so mad. But he was right. He was always irritatingly right.”
I could hear the unspoken words. They lingered in the air heavily around us.
“He’s not dead,” she said. Steel cut through her voice like I had never heard it before. It shook the boughs of the trees around us, the small flickering balls of sun shivering under her tone. “Don’t let anyone tell you he is.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
Tipping her head upwards, she stared at the woven bits of fabric within the trees. The hanging bottles. The little totems of protection. Her eyes were damp. “Because everyone else believes he is.”
[[What happened to him?|Chapter Three H what happened to him]]
[[Why does everyone believe him dead if he’s not?]]
[[Where is he?]]I looked at her, feeling my chest ache. Malcolm Albright. I saw signs of him everywhere in the apothecary. I was almost certain that the paintings upstairs were all his. Yet, with the way she spoke, I suspected the worst. “Did he…?”
“Die?” she asked. Her head ducked down, the curls of her hair casting a shadow across her eyes. It did nothing to hide the pain of the word. “No.” Steel cut through her voice like I had never heard it before. It shook the boughs of the surrounding trees, the small flickering balls of sun shivering under her tone.
“Why do you say it like that?”
Tipping her head upwards, she stared at the woven bits of fabric within the trees. The hanging bottles. The little totems of protection. Her eyes were damp. “Because everyone else believes him to be gone. But I know better.”
[[What happened to him?|Chapter Three H what happened to him]]
[[Why does everyone believe him dead if he’s not?]]
[[Where is he?]]I looked at her, feeling my chest ache. Malcolm Albright. I saw signs of him everywhere in the apothecary. I was almost certain that the paintings upstairs were all his. Yet, with the way he spoke, I suspected the worst. “You two sound like you were close. Your brother and you.”
“We were a year apart. Him first,” she said, picking at her food a bit. “I think sometimes people mistook us for twins. We spent most of our days together though. When I wasn’t working within the shop I was with him. He- he protected me. Made sure I had everything I ever needed. Typical big brother stuff.”
I could hear the unspoken words. They lingered in the air heavily around us.
“He’s not dead,” she said. Steel cut through her voice like I had never heard it before. It shook the boughs of the surrounding trees, the small flickering balls of sun shivering under her tone. “Don’t let anyone tell you he is.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
Tipping her head upwards, she stared at the woven bits of fabric within the trees. The hanging bottles. The little totems of protection. Her eyes were damp. “Because everyone else believes he is.”
[[What happened to him?|Chapter Three H what happened to him]]
[[Why does everyone believe him dead if he’s not?]]
[[Where is he?]]There was a sadness that coated the surrounding walls. The little hovel that Malcolm and Hazel built, reacting to the absence of their designer. “If he’s not actually dead, why would people think he is?”
Her hands wrung in her skirts. I noticed she had removed the tonics at some point. Perhaps back at the shop.
“We were young. And very stupid. Milo…” she shook her head. “Well, we were all in over our head. Milo, more so than me, but I can’t say I wasn’t involved. Milo was in deep with a Baron at the time and Malcolm was going to go and try and smooth it all over. He knew, I’m almost certain he knew that this Baron was looking for him. How could she not. But…” Hazel swallowed thickly.
I wanted to comfort her. She looked so lost and alone. Reaching out, I rested my hand against her own. She didn’t look at me, but her fingers curled within mine. “She killed him. The Baron. She killed him and I didn’t want him to walk the Night Market forever as some sort of specter. I didn’t want him becoming like the things in the alley. He hated them and…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I just couldn’t let that be his fate.”
“You loved him. Of course, you couldn’t.”
She sniffed. “There was an open gate inches from where he died. It was there and swirling. I thought if we could push him through then he would be okay.”
[[Wait for her to continue]]
[[Why would pushing him through a gate make him okay again?]]
[[I thought you said he wasn’t dead?]]There was a sadness that coated the walls. The little hovel that Malcolm and Hazel built, reacting to the absence of their designer. “Where is he?” It was clear he wasn’t here. Not within the Night Market at least.
Her hands wrung in her skirts. I noticed she had removed the tonics at some point. Perhaps back at the shop.
“We were young. And very stupid. Milo…” she shook her head. “Well, we were all in over our head. Milo, more so than me, but I can’t say I wasn’t involved. Milo was in deep with a Baron at the time and Malcolm was going to go and try and smooth it all over. He knew, I’m almost certain he knew that this Baron was looking for him. How could she not. But…” Hazel swallowed thickly.
I wanted to comfort her. She looked so lost and alone. Reaching out, I rested my hand against her own. She didn’t look at me, but her fingers curled within mine. “She killed him. The Baron. She killed him and I didn’t want him to walk the Night Market forever as some sort of specter. I didn’t want him becoming like the things in the alley. He hated them and…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I just couldn’t let that be his fate.”
“You loved him. Of course, you couldn’t.”
She sniffed. “There was an open gate inches from where he died. It was there and swirling. I thought if we could push him through then he would be okay.”
[[Wait for her to continue]]
[[Why would pushing him through a gate make him okay again?]]
[[I thought you said he wasn’t dead?]]There was a sadness that coated the walls. The little hovel that Malcolm and Hazel built, reacting to the absence of their designer. “You don’t have to tell me,” I said softly. “But I’m willing to listen if you want to talk about what happened to him.”
Her hands wrung in her skirts. I noticed she had removed the tonics at some point. Perhaps back at the shop.
“We were young. And very stupid. Milo…” she shook her head. “Well, we were all in over our head. Milo, more so than me, but I can’t say I wasn’t involved. Milo was in deep with a Baron at the time and Malcolm was going to go and try and smooth it all over. He knew, I’m almost certain he knew that this Baron was looking for him. How could she not. But…” Hazel swallowed thickly.
I wanted to comfort her. She looked so lost and alone. Reaching out, I rested my hand against her own. She didn’t look at me, but her fingers curled within mine. “She killed him. The Baron. She killed him and I didn’t want him to walk the Night Market forever as some sort of specter. I didn’t want him becoming like the things in the alley. He hated them and…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I just couldn’t let that be his fate.”
“You loved him. Of course, you couldn’t.”
She sniffed. “There was an open gate inches from where he died. It was there and swirling. I thought if we could push him through then he would be okay.”
[[Wait for her to continue]]
[[Why would pushing him through a gate make him okay again?]]
[[I thought you said he wasn’t dead?]]I said nothing. Giving her the space to continue on her own. I could see the panic starting to gather. How many times had she been called mad for this? How many people looked at her with nothing but pity?
“It’s an old legend. They say that the Night Market claims you. I knew if he died here he would become a ghost and he would eventually lose himself. I couldn’t watch that happen and I knew he would rather not exist than have me watch him wander forever. But he belongs to the Night Market. It has a claim on him. I thought if we sent him through a gate, the market would be forced to bring him home.”
“But wouldn’t he still come back a spirit?”
She shook her head. “Spirits cannot handle passing through the gates. It tears at their energy too much. So the market would be forced to bring him back to life if they wanted to reclaim one of their own.”
The way she looked at me, I could see she was begging me for understanding. She clung to my hands tightly, tears filling her eyes, the food spread between us.
“How long ago did all this happen?” I asked gently.
“Ten years.”
For ten years she had been looking for him. Casting her gaze towards her front door each time it opened, hoping it would be him that stepped through. I couldn’t imagine that pain. The loneliness and the isolation that must have brought her. There had to be a way to put this entire situation to rest.
“If you pushed him through a gate,” I started slowly. “Maybe the gatekeeper could reopen that gate. Get him home that way.”
At that, her gaze ticked away.
“You’ve tried that already, haven’t you.” Most likely, she had tried next to everything. The desperation I could see in her eyes said that this was not a woman who was just sitting back and waiting for the world to bring him back to her. Not when she loved him so fiercely.
“I’ve tried many things,” she whispered. “Some may have gotten me close but…” she shivered. “I don’t know how long it’s supposed to take. He could be here for all I know, memories lost like you.”
Realization hit me then and my shoulders sagged with grief. “It’s why you help people in my situation. You’re looking for him.”
“And I’ll keep looking,” she said stoically, despite the grief swimming in her eyes. “Until he comes home, I’ll keep trying.” Turning her gaze up to me, I watched as the tears spilled from her eyes. “$name, you have to believe me. He’s not dead. I’ll get him back.”
[[I believe you]]
[[Reach forward and hold her]]
[[I am so, so sorry]]
“Why would you think that?” I asked, keeping my voice calm.
“It’s an old legend. They say that the Night Market claims you. I knew if he died here he would become a ghost and he would eventually lose himself. I couldn’t watch that happen and I knew he would rather not exist than have me watch him wander forever. But he belongs to the Night Market. It has a claim on him. I thought if we sent him through a gate, the market would be forced to bring him home.”
“But wouldn’t he still come back a spirit?”
She shook her head. “Spirits cannot handle passing through the gates. It tears at their energy too much. So the market would be forced to bring him back to life if they wanted to reclaim one of their own.”
The way she looked at me, I could see she was begging me for understanding. She clung to my hands tightly, tears filling her eyes, the food spread between us.
“How long ago did all this happen?” I asked gently.
“Ten years.”
For ten years she had been looking for him. Casting her gaze towards her front door each time it opened, hoping it would be him that stepped through. I couldn’t imagine that pain. The loneliness and the isolation that must have brought her. There had to be a way to put this entire situation to rest.
“If you pushed him through a gate,” I started slowly. “Maybe the gatekeeper could reopen that gate. Get him home that way.”
At that, her gaze ticked away.
“You’ve tried that already, haven’t you.” Most likely, she had tried next to everything. The desperation I could see in her eyes said that this was not a woman who was just sitting back and waiting for the world to bring him back to her. Not when she loved him so fiercely.
“I’ve tried many things,” she whispered. “Some may have gotten me close but…” she shivered. “I don’t know how long it’s supposed to take. He could be here for all I know, memories lost like you.”
Realization hit me then and my shoulders sagged with grief. “It’s why you help people in my situation. You’re looking for him.”
“And I’ll keep looking,” she said stoically, despite the grief swimming in her eyes. “Until he comes home, I’ll keep trying.” Turning her gaze up to me, I watched as the tears spilled from her eyes. “$name, you have to believe me. He’s not dead. I’ll get him back.”
[[I believe you]]
[[Reach forward and hold her]]
[[I am so, so sorry]]
“Wait, I don’t…” I tried to approach this delicately, not wanting to upset her more than she already seemed. “I thought you said he wasn’t dead.”
“He- no. He died. But he’s not dead. He wouldn’t stay that way.”
I shook my head, desperately trying to understand but I could see the panic starting to gather. How many times had she been called insane for this? How many people looked at her with nothing but pity?
“It’s an old legend. They say that the Night Market claims you. I knew if he died here he would become a ghost and he would eventually lose himself. I couldn’t watch that happen and I knew he would rather not exist than have me watch him wander forever. But he belongs to the Night Market. It has a claim on him. I thought if we sent him through a gate, the market would be forced to bring him home.”
“But wouldn’t he still come back a spirit?”
She shook her head. “Spirits cannot handle passing through the gates. It tears at their energy too much. So the market would be forced to bring him back to life if they wanted to reclaim one of their own.”
The way she looked at me, I could see she was begging me for understanding. She clung to my hands tightly, tears filling her eyes, the food spread between us.
“How long ago did all this happen?” I asked gently.
“Ten years.”
For ten years she had been looking for him. Casting her gaze towards her front door each time it opened, hoping it would be him that stepped through. I couldn’t imagine that pain. The loneliness and the isolation that must have brought her. There had to be a way to put this entire situation to rest.
“If you pushed him through a gate,” I started slowly. “Maybe the gatekeeper could reopen that gate. Get him home that way.”
At that, her gaze ticked away.
“You’ve tried that already, haven’t you.” Most likely, she had tried next to everything. The desperation I could see in her eyes said that this was not a woman who was just sitting back and waiting for the world to bring him back to her. Not when she loved him so fiercely.
“I’ve tried many things,” she whispered. “Some may have gotten me close but…” she shivered. “I don’t know how long it’s supposed to take. He could be here for all I know, memories lost like you.”
Realization hit me then and my shoulders sagged with grief. “It’s why you help people in my situation. You’re looking for him.”
“And I’ll keep looking,” she said stoically, despite the grief swimming in her eyes. “Until he comes home, I’ll keep trying.” Turning her gaze up to me, I watched as the tears spilled from her eyes. “$name, you have to believe me. He’s not dead. I’ll get him back.”
[[I believe you]]
[[Reach forward and hold her]]
[[I am so, so sorry]]
“I believe you,” I told her. If Hazel said that Malcolm was still alive, I wasn’t going to be the one to say otherwise. Somewhere out there he wandered, looking for a way back to his sister. Trying to find her just as she him. “I believe you,” I repeated.
The relief that flooded her was palpable as she began to pull herself together. “Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me.”
Above us, the sunlight dimmed in an attempt to sooth the shaking woman beneath their rays. I didn’t question it. There were many things within the Night Market that seemed strange and this was low on the list. My main concern was for the woman before me and the grief she held locked away.
[[Next|Chapter Three H 8]]Reaching forward, I gathered her in my arms, not knowing what else to do. She broke against me, ugly sobs escaping her as the truth of words that she was barely allowed to speak had finally broken. Hazel grieved for the silence that had been forced upon her by everyone who didn’t believe her. She grieved for a brother who she missed dearly. And in my arms, she grieved for the moments yet to come where he still did not walk through that door.
Above us, the sunlight dimmed in an attempt to sooth the shaking woman beneath their rays. I didn’t question it. There were many things within the Night Market that seemed strange and this was low on the list. My main concern was for the woman before me and the grief she held locked away.
[[Next|Chapter Three H 8]]“Hazel, I….” I didn’t know what I could say to help her. Or to make any of this better. If I thought there were any words that might ease her pain, I would have offered them. But as it was, I knew nothing of the grief she was trying to desperately to handle. So I offered her something paltry. Words that felt empty to me.
“I’m sorry,” I told her.
She sniffed a little, nodding at the sentiment. “I’ll get him back,” she repeated firmly, wiping at her tears.
For her sake, I hoped she was right.
[[Next|Chapter Three H 8]]We nibbled at our food after that, both of us exchanging small pleasantries about the shop. About the world ahead of us. The more we spoke, the more she appeared to brighten. She didn’t speak of Malcolm again in those moments, needing time away from her breakdown. Her cheeks were stained a constant smudge of crimson and I knew she was embarrassed by her tears. I didn’t call attention to it but instead helped her gather the last of the food when we were done. Then, together, we made our way back to the apothecary.
The temperature had dipped into a soothing wind and I could feel the slight breeze from the creek wafting across my skin. Up ahead, the chimney still looked like it was going strong, puffing purple and green plumes of smoke from its spout.
Hazel rested the basket in the garden, leaving the leftovers for the pixies and wisps. When we entered inside, I had the full intent of asking her if she wanted to end the evening with a drink. Whether it be tea or something much stronger.
She was frozen though. Standing in the middle of the shop. I nearly ran into her, having to put my hands out to steady myself. She was staring at the front counter.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
It was then that I saw a small flickering red glow. It was small and barely discernible inside a bottle situated on the top shelf. Hazel rushed over to it, hopping up on the counter itself and leaning forward to grab it. Holding it close to her ears she paled, looking at me with wide eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“A door. A new door just opened.”
[[Chapter Four]]
<<set $malcolmdead to "true">>
<<set $chaptertwogate to "false">>I rushed through the burnt out alley as quickly as I could, keeping my head ducked low so as not to see any of the wandering spirits that peeked out from the broken windows. There had been a man that had come in the other day, looking for a simple remedy for his cough. Yet, because he had to run through the alley, he arrived doubled over, hacking up something wet and foul. It was no wonder why most of Hazel’s orders were mail in.
Emerging from the alley, I stopped in front of the three-tiered fountain. It was bubbling loudly today, the rim of water that spilled from the bottom basin spattering against my clothes. I saw the alleyway that Hazel had mentioned, the Fashion District laying beyond. I also saw the soft pink glow of the Pleasure District.
There was no reason for me to go see Belladonna. Absolutely none. She had given me the information I had approached her for and not once did she suggest I come back and see her. That evening, she had bid me farewell, walking back over to her tea table with an exaggerated sway of her hips. Yet, there was something alluring about her that I couldn’t quite put my fingers on. Power, perhaps. Something that I wanted to know more about.
Biting my lip, I looked between the two alleys. I needed to get myself new clothes. I was no better than a street urchin at this point. But when I began walking forward, it was not to the district in question, but instead, down the familiar rose pink glow of the Pleasure District.
[[It didn’t hurt to ask]]
[[I was probably a fool for even attempting this]]
[[Maybe if I just peeked in… Maybe she wasn’t even home…]]
<<set $bellavamp to"true">>It cost me nothing to ask. That’s what I kept telling myself at least. The worst the woman could do is tell me no, and then I could be on my way, the thought of her shoved from my mind.
The ambrosia hit me with a wave of burnt sugar and honey. Knowing what it was now, I felt it caress my mind, looking for ill intent. When it found none, it was replaced with a gentle push forward.
The district itself was much of what I remembered. Beautiful glittering paths of white marble struck through with rose gold. Perfectly cut hedges in small fenced off squares. But most of all, couples. Warm souls and bodies gathered on every available surface. Some with their heads tipped together. Others with their lips pressed to skin. Couples slinking off into shadowed corners for privacy. The few that were uncaring of privacy, I tried my best to keep my eyes from.
Making my way around the main building, I left the soft sounds of moaning behind me. Belladonna’s garden was cooler. The lamps above tinged a deep magenta and black rather than the pastel pinks that the main square was colored in. The grass was a deep emerald green and the hedges that blocked most of the noise were full and waxy with night blooms of plum hydrangea and jasmine. It smelled wonderful back here. A scent that I was associating now solely with her.
Turning, I began walking down the narrow stone path towards the screens that blocked off Belladonna’s office, but paused.
There was a black onyx bench near a pond full of koi. Upon it, sat Belladonna.
She was staring at me. As if she were simply waiting for me to join her. She wore a gown of the deepest black, the slits going well past her hips while the neckline dipped down to flutter across the tops of her breasts. The straps of her dress were made from small purple crystals, matching the color of her lips and the highlight glimmering around her eyes.
“Did we have an appointment, dear heart?” she asked. Her voice chiming like bells across the courtyard.
[[N-no? No.]]
[[We did not but I wanted to see you]]
[[It’s your lucky day. I have a free afternoon]]I was bound to make a fool of myself in this situation, but I didn’t care. According to Milo, Belladonna was one of the most sought after courtesans, one of the most sought after //individuals//, in the Night Market. The idea that she would take time out of her day for me was nearly laughable. But still, I wanted to try.
The ambrosia hit me with a wave of burnt sugar and honey. Knowing what it was now, I felt it caress my mind, looking for ill intent. When it found none, it was replaced with a gentle push forward.
The district itself was much of what I remembered. Beautiful glittering paths of white marble struck through with rose gold. Perfectly cut hedges in small fenced off squares. But most of all, couples. Warm souls and bodies gathered on every available surface. Some with their heads tipped together. Others with their lips pressed to skin. Couples slinking off into shadowed corners for privacy. The few that were uncaring of privacy, I tried my best to keep my eyes from.
Making my way around the main building, I left the soft sounds of moaning behind me. Belladonna’s garden was cooler. The lamps above tinged a deep magenta and black rather than the pastel pinks that the main square was colored in. The grass was a deep emerald green and the hedges that blocked most of the noise were full and waxy with night blooms of plum hydrangea and jasmine. It smelled wonderful back here. A scent that I was associating now solely with her.
Turning, I began walking down the narrow stone path towards the screens that blocked off Belladonna’s office, but paused.
There was a black onyx bench near a pond full of koi. Upon it, sat Belladonna.
She was staring at me. As if she were simply waiting for me to join her. She wore a gown of the deepest black, the slits going well past her hips while the neckline dipped down to flutter across the tops of her breasts. The straps of her dress were made from small purple crystals, matching the color of her lips and the highlight glimmering around her eyes.
“Did we have an appointment, dear heart?” she asked. Her voice chiming like bells across the courtyard.
[[N-no? No.]]
[[We did not but I wanted to see you]]
[[It’s your lucky day. I have a free afternoon]]There was a strong possibility she wasn’t even home. I could possibly just peek in and find her office to be empty. I didn’t quite know what kind of hours the woman kept or if I would even be allowed past her two guards, but at least by doing this, I wouldn’t be left wondering. There would be no what if’s.
The ambrosia hit me with a wave of burnt sugar and honey. Knowing what it was now, I felt it caress my mind, looking for ill intent. When it found none, it was replaced with a gentle push forward.
The district itself was much of what I remembered. Beautiful glittering paths of white marble struck through with rose gold. Perfectly cut hedges in small fenced off squares. But most of all, couples. Warm souls and bodies gathered on every available surface. Some with their heads tipped together. Others with their lips pressed to skin. Couples slinking off into shadowed corners for privacy. The few that were uncaring of privacy, I tried my best to keep my eyes from.
Making my way around the main building, I left the soft sounds of moaning behind me. Belladonna’s garden was cooler. The lamps above tinged a deep magenta and black rather than the pastel pinks that the main square was colored in. The grass was a deep emerald green and the hedges that blocked most of the noise were full and waxy with night blooms of plum hydrangea and jasmine. It smelled wonderful back here. A scent that I was associating now solely with her.
Turning, I began walking down the narrow stone path towards the screens that blocked off Belladonna’s office, but paused.
There was a black onyx bench near a pond full of koi. Upon it, sat Belladonna.
She was staring at me. As if she were simply waiting for me to join her. She wore a gown of the deepest black, the slits going well past her hips while the neckline dipped down to flutter across the tops of her breasts. The straps of her dress were made from small purple crystals, matching the color of her lips and the highlight glimmering around her eyes.
“Did we have an appointment, dear heart?” she asked. Her voice chiming like bells across the courtyard.
[[N-no? No.]]
[[We did not but I wanted to see you]]
[[It’s your lucky day. I have a free afternoon]]“N-no. No we did not.” I cleared my throat, wondering how such a simple question could make me stutter.
“Is there an emergency then?” she asked, rising from the bench. Slowly, she began walking towards me, her hips swaying tantalizingly from side to side. “Something you need to speak to me about?”
I stared at her. Damn she was beautiful. How could one person be that beautiful?
“I uh- actually, I’m not here on business. I was kind of wondering if you wanted to go shopping with me?” I held up my coin purse, shaking it a little, so the coins jangled within.
Belladonna raised one perfectly arched brow towards me. “Are you paying me to shop for you or go shopping with you?”
“Um, I don’t think I can afford both.”
Closing the gap between us, she took the coin pouch from my hand, peeking inside. She smelled of something coppery this close and her hair looked auburn in the dim light. I noticed how she didn't have a mark on her. Not even a freckle.
“Alright,” she said. “Come along.”
She walked past me.
[[Stare at her dumbfounded]]
[[Hurry to catch up. Don’t let this opportunity go to waste]]
[[“Seriously?”]]“No,” I told her truthfully, “but I wanted to see you. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something.” I gestured to the surrounding garden. It had looked as if she was taking in the night air.
Tilting her head, she slowly rose from the bench, her hips swaying tantalizingly from side to side. I couldn’t help but stare at her. She was beautiful. Beautiful in a way that no one person had the right to be.
“You wanted to see me,” she repeated, amusement quirking her lips.
“I wanted to know if you wanted to go shopping with me.” I raised the coin purse up, so it was level with her gaze.
Belladonna raised one perfectly arched brow towards me. “Are you paying me to shop for you or go shopping with you?”
“Um, I don’t think I can afford both.”
Closing the gap between us, she took the coin pouch from my hand, peeking inside. She smelled of something coppery this close and her hair looked auburn in the dim light. I noticed how she didn't have a mark on her. Not even a freckle.
“Alright,” she said. “Come along.”
She walked past me.
[[Stare at her dumbfounded]]
[[Hurry to catch up. Don’t let this opportunity go to waste]]
[[“Seriously?”]]I grinned at her, trying not to be one of those nervous sorts that I’m sure she got all the time. Thinking about it now, I probably looked like one of her fawning admirers. One of the ones that kept coming around long past their welcome. I was trying hard, however, to seem normal.
“I have a free afternoon,” I told her. “So, it’s your lucky day. I thought, if you wanted to, we could go shopping together?”
She stared at me from the bench, her face impassive. The silence stretched on with the backdrop of deep and guttural moans from the square beyond. When she rose, she walked towards me slowly, keeping her gaze locked with mine.
“Shopping?” she asked.
I raised the coin purse in front of me. “Yeah. I got paid and need some new clothes.”
Belladonna raised one perfectly arched brow towards me. “Are you paying me to shop for you or go shopping with you?”
“Um, I don’t think I can afford both.”
Closing the gap between us, she took the coin pouch from my hand, peeking inside. She smelled of something coppery this close and her hair looked auburn in the dim light. I noticed how she didn't have a mark on her. Not even a freckle.
“Alright,” she said. “Come along.”
She walked past me.
[[Stare at her dumbfounded]]
[[Hurry to catch up. Don’t let this opportunity go to waste]]
[[“Seriously?”]]I was left standing there for a moment, dumbfounded, before I quickly turned on my heel and scrambled after her. “Wait,” I said. “Am I paying you for your time?”
“Yes.”
“But, I won’t be able to buy clothes then.”
“With what you just brought me, you won’t be able to afford anything. I’ll be buying your clothes.”
“I– that’s very nice of you but…”
She stopped, turning so I nearly ran into her. “Dear heart,” she cooed, cupping my cheek with a cool hand. Ducking her head, she blinked, her lashes sweeping across the apples of her cheeks. “If you are going to be seen with me, you need to look the part. And right now?” she looked me up and down. “You do not look the part. So, come along.”
We walked through the Pleasure District at a clipped pace. I noticed how nearly everyone stopped to watch her go by. I saw the way she looked back at them. The coy smile on her lips. Always on her game. It left little mystery as to why she was so successful.
As we exited the district, I racked my brain for something to speak with her about. I didn't know if she preferred the silence or not, but the lack of conversation was making me slightly itchy. Especially after spending nearly a week with Hazel who talked constantly.
“So it’s been a bit,” I told her. “What have you been doing with your time?” I asked lamely.
She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes glowing in the dull pink light. “Why are you walking behind me?” she asked.
“Oh, uh… I don’t know.”
“Walk by my side, sweetness,” she said. “Don’t ever walk behind someone like you are a lesser.”
[[But I am a lesser]]
[[Listen to her and walk by her side]]I turned quickly, scrambling after her. Belladonna did not seem like the type of woman who was going to wait for anyone and if I lost her, I was almost certain she would take my money and go shopping without me.
“So, am I paying you for my time?” I asked curiously. The first time was free. I doubted that it extended to now. Or perhaps, she genuinely wanted to come with me?
“Yes.”
“Do I have enough coin in there for your time and for clothes?”
“No.”
I winced, already having figured the answer. “Uh, but I really need some new clothes…”
She stopped, turning so I nearly ran into her. “Dear heart,” she cooed, cupping my cheek with a cool hand. Ducking her head, she blinked, her lashes sweeping across the apples of her cheeks. “If you are going to be seen with me, you need to look the part. And right now?” she looked me up and down. “You do not look the part. So, come along.”
We walked through the Pleasure District at a clipped pace. I noticed how nearly everyone stopped to watch her go by. I saw the way she looked back at them. The coy smile on her lips. Always on her game. It left little mystery as to why she was so successful.
As we exited the district, I racked my brain for something to speak with her about. I didn't know if she preferred the silence or not, but the lack of conversation was making me slightly itchy. Especially after spending nearly a week with Hazel who talked constantly.
“So it’s been a bit,” I told her. “What have you been doing with your time?” I asked lamely.
She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes glowing in the dull pink light. “Why are you walking behind me?” she asked.
“Oh, uh… I don’t know.”
“Walk by my side, sweetness,” she said. “Don’t ever walk behind someone like you are a lesser.”
[[But I am a lesser]]
[[Listen to her and walk by her side]]I blinked, almost not believing what was happening. “Wait,” I said, turning to stare after her. “Seriously?”
“Come along, sweetness,” she called, not even looking over her shoulder.
I did not hesitate to catch up with her, falling in step behind her on the cobbled path.
“So, am I paying you for my time?” I asked curiously. The first time was free. I doubted that it extended to now. Or perhaps, she genuinely wanted to come with me?
“Yes.”
“Do I have enough coin in there for your time and for clothes?”
“No.”
I winced, already having figured the answer. “Uh, but I really need some new clothes…”
She stopped, turning so I nearly ran into her. “Dear heart,” she cooed, cupping my cheek with a cool hand. Ducking her head, she blinked, her lashes sweeping across the apples of her cheeks. “If you are going to be seen with me, you need to look the part. And right now?” she looked me up and down. “You do not look the part. So, come along.”
We walked through the Pleasure District at a clipped pace. I noticed how nearly everyone stopped to watch her go by. I saw the way she looked back at them. The coy smile on her lips. Always on her game. It left little mystery as to why she was so successful.
As we exited the district, I racked my brain for something to speak with her about. I didn't know if she preferred the silence or not, but the lack of conversation was making me slightly itchy. Especially after spending nearly a week with Hazel who talked constantly.
“So it’s been a bit,” I told her. “What have you been doing with your time?” I asked lamely.
She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes glowing in the dull pink light. “Why are you walking behind me?” she asked.
“Oh, uh… I don’t know.”
“Walk by my side, sweetness,” she said. “Don’t ever walk behind someone like you are a lesser.”
[[But I am a lesser]]
[[Listen to her and walk by her side]]
I shifted on my feet. “But I am lesser,” I blurted.
The frown that crossed her face was immediate. “Do you truly think that way?”
“Yes.” I had only the small sum of money that Hazel had given me. I had no home of my own. Not really any belongings. Not even my mind was something for me to keep. <<if $workforhazel == "true">> I was the shop hand that swept away the dust and started the fire in the morning. When compared to most of the people within the market, I was going to fall beneath them. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>I was the lackey of a Warden who had yet to even call on my services. Forgotten. When compared to most of the people within the market, I was going to fall beneath them.<</if>>
Belladonna did not look as if she shared this sentiment, though. “Well, then it looks as if we will need to be working on your self-esteem along with your confidence.”
She slowed her steps until I fell in step beside her, and together, we walked down the alley. I felt slightly uncomfortable, dressed in my work tunic. I felt naked without the apothecary's apron wrapped around my waist. Next to Belladonna I was sure I looked down right atrocious. Even her shoes were embellished. Black velvet stilettos with heels encrusted in gold webbing.
“Dear heart, humor me for a moment,” she said. “What do you think of when you look at me?”
[[A self-made woman]]
[[A beautiful woman]]
[[Someone of power]]I fell in step beside her. Who was I to tell her I deserved anything otherwise. For her part, she slowed her pace, scooting over a little to make room for me. I noticed how anyone passing us had to step to the side and wait. Either that, or they placed an unadvisable game of chicken with a woman who looked like she would absolutely run into anyone that dared to stand in her way.
“Dear heart, humor me for a moment,” she said. We had left behind the rose gold lights and were approaching the end of the alley. It was beginning to be familiar territory to me. A fact that I found somewhat comforting. “What do you think of when you look at me?”
[[A self-made woman]]
[[A beautiful woman]]
[[Someone of power]]I thought about it for a moment, wondering what type of answer she was really looking for and why.
“You look like a self-made woman,” I said. “Someone who wasn’t handed your success but someone who rather took it. You have a sense of confidence about you that is hard to ignore and I think that it's because you rely on no one but yourself.”
She didn’t tell me if I was wrong or right. There was absolutely no inflection on her face. Instead, the echoing click of her heels sounded around us.
“And do you feel inferior to that?”
[[Yes|Chapter Three B yes]]
[[No|Chapter Three B no]]
[[I really don’t know|Chapter Three Belladonna idk]]I thought about it for a moment, wondering what type of answer she was really looking for and why.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” I said. “I’m sure you know that and are told that all the time. You are someone that takes a lot of pride in your image and I think, because of that, gets treated differently than others. Or at the very least, you’re told more, perhaps even trusted more, because your beauty is disarming.”
She didn’t tell me if I was wrong or right. There was absolutely no inflection on her face. Instead, the echoing click of her heels sounded around us.
“And do you feel inferior to that?”
[[Yes|Chapter Three B yes]]
[[No|Chapter Three B no]]
[[I really don’t know|Chapter Three Belladonna idk]]I thought about it for a moment, wondering what type of answer she was really looking for and why.
“You have power,” I said. “Even if I hadn’t been told time and time again that you are not a woman to be trifled with, I think upon first meeting I would have known it right away. You exude it with everything you do. With how you speak. With how you walk. I don’t think anyone can look at you and consider you weak.”
She didn’t tell me if I was wrong or right. There was absolutely no inflection on her face. Instead, the echoing click of her heels sounded around us.
“And do you feel inferior to that?”
[[Yes|Chapter Three B yes]]
[[No|Chapter Three B no]]
[[I really don’t know|Chapter Three Belladonna idk]]I didn’t feel inferior, exactly. Did I think people were more likely to listen to a woman like Belladonna over someone like me? Absolutely. But she had put in the time and the effort to get to where she was. I, for all intents and purposes, was barely two weeks old.
“No,” I assured her. “I more feel like my voice is being silenced.” She tipped her head towards me but continued walking. She genuinely seemed curious with what I had to say. “People like you can speak and others will listen. There will be action to your words. With me, the best I can do is lie low.”
The sound of her heels tapped against the cobblestone, the lantern light sending shadows to play across her face. “Would you speak. If you had a louder voice that is.”
“I don’t really know how to answer that until I do,” I said to her.
“Well, then it seems as if that is the goal.”
I frowned at the way she said it. “For me or for you?”
“Do you have a preference?”
“I don’t think I can pay you what you would want?” I said jokingly. The simple walk to the Fashion District looked as if it were going to cost me dearly.
“There are other forms of payment I consider.” She smiled at me. “We’ll discuss the specifics later. Come along. The Fashion District is beautiful and I truly think we can find something spectacular for you.”
[[Next|Chapter Three B3]]Honestly, how could I not. Walking beside her, in no more than dirty rags, completely dependent on everyone else. I didn’t feel like I was anything special. I was just a person that had gotten dropped in the Night Market and told that this was about it. There wasn’t much else to be done other than wait.
Of course I felt inferior. It was hard not to.
“Yes,” I told her, my voice small and most likely belying the point.
Belladonna did not look happy with my answer. Her lips turned into an unnatural frown but she kept her eyes ahead.
“I do not like this development, dear heart,” she said rather firmly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. There is no need for something like that. It just appears to me that you need a bit of special attention.” That, satisfied her. Whatever this special attention was seemed to calm whatever sharp tone that had taken over her voice for a moment.
“I don’t think I could afford that,” I said, jokingly.
“You can’t,” she said with a put upon sigh. “But there are other ways you can pay.”
“Oh. How?” I nearly shivered at the way her eyes glinted in the lantern light.
She smiled at me. “We’ll discuss the specifics later. Come along. The Fashion District is beautiful and I truly think we can find something spectacular for you.”
[[Next|Chapter Three B3]]Walking beside her, in no more than dirty rags, completely dependent on everyone else, I didn’t really know what to think. I didn’t feel like I was anything special. I was just a person that had gotten dropped in the Night Market and told that this was about it. There wasn’t much else to be done other than wait. But I knew I wasn’t inferior, per se. I just felt more lost than anything else.
“I think I feel intimidated, more than anything,” I told her. “Like, I can’t speak. That my position within the Night Market for the time being is designed to make me inferior.”
Belladonna did not look happy with my answer. Her lips turned into an unnatural frown, but she kept her eyes ahead. “I do not like this development, dear heart,” she said rather firmly. “Inferiority can become insurmountable if you let it run rampant.”
“I’ll add it to my long list of things I need to keep an eye on,” I said.
“Yes,” she mused. “Well, we can work on your self-confidence when we have dinner next.”
“What?” I nearly choked. She wanted to have dinner with me. “I can’t really afford…” I began.
“No, you can’t,” she said with a put upon sigh. “But there are other ways you can pay.”
“Oh. How?” I nearly shivered at the way her eyes glinted in the lantern light.
She smiled at me. “We’ll discuss the specifics later. Come along. The Fashion District is beautiful, and I truly think we can find something spectacular for you.”
[[Next|Chapter Three B3]]
The three-tiered fountain came back into view and I was realizing just how much of a staple it was for me. The sight of it meant safety. Hazel’s was not far and I knew that if I really needed to, I could probably navigate my way around the immediate area by using it as my center point.
There were three individuals sitting upon it when we approached, all of which were snuggled close together, holding hands. When they saw Belladonna, they froze, looking at her with wide slack jawed expressions. Except for one girl, I noticed. She didn’t seem as shocked with Belladonna’s presence as the rest of them.
“Good evening, Belladonna,” she said. She had locks of mint green hair that blended into the water behind her and eyes the color of the moon. While she did not look at her like her companions did, she still gazed upon the statuesque redhead with reverence. Briefly, I wondered if it was like this no matter where she went.
“Well good evening, Vivi,” Belladonna cooed. “I do hope that your dress is not too stained from the last party. I saw the way that red wine slipped across your skirt. Truly atrocious.”
“Oh,” the woman blushed. “Uh, yes. I think everyone got carried away that night.”
Belladonna’s smile was soft and understanding. “Yes. ‘Tis very true. I am glad to see you out and about though, dear heart. And with new suitors no less.” She smiled at the other two, her eyes glowing far more golden than they had been in the alleyway. “Take care of my dear Vivi. She deserves the moon.”
“I- yes,” the man squeaked. “Yes she does.” The other woman nodded with the same sentiment.
“Good.” Slowly, Belladonna began to move past them, seemingly done with the conversation. I could feel the sighs pulse through the air as the three of them watched her go. But as she reached the opening on another alleyway, she paused. With the barest tilt of her head, she looked over her shoulder, her hair cascading down her back and her deep painted lips calling attention to those who looked at her. “Vivi,” she called. “When they prove unsatisfactory, come and see me. My treat.” She disappeared within the alley then, leaving the three lovers sitting there, their mouths agape.
"You're assuming that we will be unsatisfactoy," the other woman shot back.
Belladonna turned to her with a pitying smile. "My dear, I already know you to be. Let's not pretend you are making Vivi happy. I can smell her discontent." With another look at Vivi, Belladonna sighed dispassionately. "Have a good eve, Vivi." And she walked off.
“How?” the man began. “How did you ever afford Belladonna Malady?”
I didn’t wait to hear the answer as I rushed after Belladonna. It was doubtful she was going to wait for me.
I caught up to her, settling by her side like she requested. She moved liked water, fluid and graceful.
[[It was a bit mean]]
[[Not really. People shouldn’t stay with someone that doesn’t make them happy]]
[[I’m not assuming anything. It sounds like there is a story there]]
I thought back to the people there. They looked like new lovers. Ones who had yet to really get to know each other, still caught up in the infatuation of young love. They had looked happy when we had approached. I didn’t catch their expressions when we left but I wasn’t sure why Belladonna would have said such a thing.
“It may have been a little mean,” I ventured.
“Why?” she asked curiously. There was no malice in her voice, only blatant interest in what I had to say.
“You’re assuming the other two are going to fail to make her happy. And you are insinuating that you can do it better.”
She laughed a little at that, a small chuckle under her breath. “I know I can do it better.”
“Maybe you can. But if she does end up coming to you, will you do that for her? Or will she have to pay?”
“Dear heart, my clients trust me to keep anonymity for them,” she admonished. “I cannot possibly tell you something like that.”
I looked over my shoulder. “But you just…”
“Look,” she cooed, clasping her hands together. “The mirrors. Oh, they cleaned them. They were terribly smudged the last time I was here. I am not one to make a complaint, but I did find a nice young man and told him that I thought their charms might be getting a bit old. Feebus would not have stood for such a thing. Not when first impressions are so lasting.”
[[Don’t change the subject. What are your rules with your clients?]]
[[You didn’t seem too impressed with her new choice of lovers back there]]
[[Who is Feebus?]]I thought back to the people there. They looked like new lovers. Ones who had yet to really get to know each other, still caught up in the infatuation of young love. They looked so much different from what Belladonna provided. Or how she spoke. I doubted the redhead would even say anything unless she deemed in necessary. She was a calculating woman. Anyone that paid any amount of attention could see it in her eyes.
“I’m assuming there is a story there,” I told her. “Your words didn’t sound like they were spoken just for the sake of speaking them.”
Belladonna looked pleased at my observation. “Well done,” she praised. “What else did you observe about them.”
“The relationship looks young? The woman, Vivi, also looked as if she was the third in an already existing relationship.”
Belladonna nodded, the approval on her face slanting her lips upwards. “That is what I have gathered too.”
“Was she a client of yours?” I asked. How many people that Belladonna run into on a daily basis, were people she had serviced?
“Dear heart, my clients trust me to keep anonymity for them,” she admonished. “I cannot possibly tell you something like that.”
I looked over my shoulder. “But you just…”
“Look,” she cooed, clasping her hands together. “The mirrors. Oh, they cleaned them. They were terribly smudged the last time I was here. I am not one to make a complaint, but I did find a nice young man and told him that I thought their charms might be getting a bit old. Feebus would not have stood for such a thing. Not when first impressions are so lasting.”
[[Don’t change the subject. What are your rules with your clients?]]
[[You didn’t seem too impressed with her new choice of lovers back there]]
[[Who is Feebus?]]I thought back to the people there. They looked like new lovers. Ones who had yet to really get to know each other, still caught up in the infatuation of young love. They looked so much different from what Belladonna provided. Or how she spoke. I doubted the redhead would even say anything unless she deemed it necessary. She was a calculating woman. Anyone that paid any amount of attention could see it in her eyes.
I shrugged as I thought about Belladonna’s words. “I mean, I don’t think it really matters. If she’s happy, your words will have no effect. If she’s unhappy, she’ll probably come see you. And you really shouldn’t stay with someone you’re unhappy with. No matter the circumstances.”
Belladonna looked pleased at my observation. “But what if you believe that you deserve nothing better? What if, upon looking at your current lovers, you think, this is the best I can do?”
[[That’s sad. You shouldn’t stay with someone because you don’t think you deserve more]]
[[I think that's a personal issue rather than a couple issue]]
[[I guess that’s just what you choose in life then]]“I don’t have anything to go off of but I don’t think you should stay with someone because you are under the belief that you don’t deserve more,” I told her.
She looked at me then, something in her expression soft. “You are far more advanced than most younglings in love. Too often I am hired to help heal a broken heart. Yet that very broken heart is one that could have so easily been eased if they had let go sooner in life.”
“People do all kinds of odd things when they are in love,” I said, not knowing where the sentiment came from.
Belladonna nodded all the same, however. “Yes they do.”
“Was she a client of yours?” I asked. “Vivi.” How many people that Belladonna run into on a daily basis, were people she had serviced?
“Dear heart, my clients trust me to keep anonymity for them,” she admonished. “I cannot possibly tell you something like that.”
I looked over my shoulder. “But you just…”
“Look,” she cooed, clasping her hands together. “The mirrors. Oh, they cleaned them. They were terribly smudged the last time I was here. I am not one to make a complaint, but I did find a nice young man and told him that I thought their charms might be getting a bit old. Feebus would not have stood for such a thing. Not when first impressions are so lasting.”
[[Don’t change the subject. What are your rules with your clients?]]
[[You didn’t seem too impressed with her new choice of lovers back there]]
[[Who is Feebus?]]“If you are staying with someone because you don’t believe that you could have anyone else, that is more of a self-esteem ‘me’ kind of issue. It’s not longer really about who you are with.”
“Do you believe a relationship like that can last?” she asked curiously.
“I don’t have anything to really make my decision on,” I reminded her, “but, no. I think that if there is only the foundation of low self-esteem and the fear that you’ll be alone, the relationship will eventually crumble.” She looked ahead at that, not confirming or denying what I was saying. “People do all kinds of odd things when they are in love.”
“It is the one force I have seen irrationality run rampant within individuals,” she agreed.
“Was she a client of yours?” I asked. “Vivi.” How many people that Belladonna run into on a daily basis, were people she had serviced?
“Dear heart, my clients trust me to keep anonymity for them,” she admonished. “I cannot possibly tell you something like that.”
I looked over my shoulder. “But you just…”
“Look,” she cooed, clasping her hands together. “The mirrors. Oh, they cleaned them. They were terribly smudged the last time I was here. I am not one to make a complaint, but I did find a nice young man and told him that I thought their charms might be getting a bit old. Feebus would not have stood for such a thing. Not when first impressions are so lasting.”
[[Don’t change the subject. What are your rules with your clients?]]
[[You didn’t seem too impressed with her new choice of lovers back there]]
[[Who is Feebus?]]I shrugged. I had very little idea of what love was in this world, or what it meant to me. I was not the best person to answer these types of philosophical quandaries. “I guess if that’s what you choose, that’s what you choose.”
Belladonna’s face looked pinched at the sentiment. “Do you believe a relationship like that can last? One built on low self-esteem and the desire not to be alone?”
“Everyone is different. What works for one couple may not work for another.”
“Well,” she said, her voice back to that sultry cadence I heard her speak to most others. “We will have to agree to disagree then.”
I didn’t know what Belladonna was searching for but I presumed that this was not it. I was starting to realize that the woman didn’t like answers left up to fate. She liked definitive’s. Uncertainty was not something she accepted lightly. “Was she a client of yours?” I asked. “Vivi.” How many people that Belladonna run into on a daily basis, were people she had serviced?
“Dear heart, my clients trust me to keep anonymity for them,” she admonished. “I cannot possibly tell you something like that.”
I looked over my shoulder. “But you just…”
“Look,” she cooed, clasping her hands together. “The mirrors. Oh, they cleaned them. They were terribly smudged the last time I was here. I am not one to make a complaint, but I did find a nice young man and told him that I thought their charms might be getting a bit old. Feebus would not have stood for such a thing. Not when first impressions are so lasting.”
[[Don’t change the subject. What are your rules with your clients?]]
[[You didn’t seem too impressed with her new choice of lovers back there]]
[[Who is Feebus?]]“You’re changing the subject,” I told her, knowingly. She grinned at that, laughing to herself at my frown. “What are your rules for clients?”
“Looking to become one?” she asked.
“Looking to understand more about you,” I told her.
Belladonna tilted her head back. The lantern light was softly fading to blue and cast her pale skin in a nearly translucent glow. Every vein, every arch of bone, could suddenly be seen.
“My rules are simple,” she said. “You employ me for whatever it is you desire. Whether that be sex, conversation, or care. But in doing so, you give yourself up to me entirely for the night. The only time you are allowed to leave is if you use a previously discussed safe word.”
“People need to safe word out of a conversation?”
“It is the scenario they run from the most,” she said. Righting herself, she continued walking. I could see her gold eyes reflected within the mirrors above in such a way that she looked to be everywhere.
It was becoming increasingly clear as we walked, as the lights broadened above us, that Belladonna was either satisfied with the coins she had taken from me, or was in a talkative mood. It may have been my chance to gather a bit more information. Sitting idly by did not mean I could not learn more about the Night Market. And who better to learn it from than the one woman that the world saw as their eyes and ears.
“I know that this might be taboo, but what do you know of the Barons? I only know a bit about the Gatekeeper. No one has really said anything else.”
The slow grin that stretched across her face was hungry. “Oh, dear heart. I thought you would never ask.”
“So you do know them.”
“Some,” she confirmed. “Ask away, sweetness. We still have a bit before we can unburden you from those rags.”
[[How do you become a Baron?]]
[[Why only nine to rule an entire district?]]
[[Are they only Baron of whatever their title is?]]I knew Belladonna was ready to move on from our conversation, but I couldn’t help but still wonder about the three that we had seen back at the fountain. “You don’t seem impressed with Vivi’s choice of companions,” I said.
“What does it matter if someone impresses me or not?”
“I get the feeling that even if it doesn’t matter, everyone thinks it does.”
Turning, she cast a sharp gaze on me. “And is that to be my fault?” she asked dangerously.
I swallowed, and wisely chose not to answer. She sighed at whatever look was playing across my face, her own softening again.
“Vivi had an unfortunate situation with a previous marriage,” Belladonna said. “I counseled her through that. I supposed I may be too close to the situation to think that anyone at this point would be worthy of the fire she kindles in her soul.”
I didn’t know if she was telling the truth. It hit me hard that whatever this woman said, sounded pretty and thoughtful, but could be a story designed for her own gains. There was a large part of me, however, that hoped this one was not.
It was becoming increasingly clear as we walked, as the lights broadened above us, that Belladonna was either satisfied with the coins she had taken from me, or was in a talkative mood. It may have been my chance to gather a bit more information. Sitting idly by did not mean I could not learn more about the Night Market. And who better to learn it from than the one woman that the world saw as their eyes and ears.
“I know that this might be taboo, but what do you know of the Barons? I only know a bit about the Gatekeeper. No one has really said anything else.”
The slow grin that stretched across her face was hungry. “Oh, dear heart. I thought you would never ask.”
“So you do know them.”
“Some,” she confirmed. “Ask away, sweetness. We still have a bit before we can unburden you from those rags.”
[[How do you become a Baron?]]
[[Why only nine to rule an entire district?]]
[[Are they only Baron of whatever their title is?]]“Feebus?” It was not a name I had heard before and the light in Belladonna’s eyes was practically blinding upon speaking the man's name.
“A designer I know. An unofficial Baron, in my mind. He probably has more sway than an actual Baron.” She cocked her head thoughtfully to the side. “Most people do.” The lanterns were thinning out up above. The normal stringed lines of them were narrowing into one large lantern per block. The heat pouring off of them was searing to the top of my head and I noticed quite a few people wandering through the alley with parasols in hand.
“Do you know a lot about the Baron’s?” I asked curiously. While everyone seemed quick to speak of them, not one had given me any more information other than they were the ones to reside as the ruling class over the Night Market.
“A bit,” she said.
“I haven’t heard much about them yet. Other than the Gatekeeper.”
Her eyes flashed quickly to mine. “Well, what would you like to know?”
[[How do you become a Baron?]]
[[Why only nine to rule an entire district?]]
[[Are they only Baron of whatever their title is?]]“How do you become a Baron?” I asked.
“You kill the old Baron,” she said simply. “A ghoulish practice that I am certain some of the nicer minded Baron’s of old, or the weak ones, tried to change. But, that is just the way the power works.”
“The power?”
“Baron’s are one of the few who have magic within the district. Uncontrolled magic, that is. Something about it being with their Baronhood or what not. In order to transfer that power, for a new Baron takes over, you must kill the old one. As the life leaves the vessel, the power dissipates into the night air and needs a place to go. It goes into the nearest body, which, is usually the one holding the proverbial knife.”
It was ghoulish to think about and sounded like a life not worth living. The Baron’s had to live with a constant fear of attack as people scrambling for a better life set their eyes on them. “What if a Baron dies without someone around? Like, old age or something?”
“Same principles applies,” Belladonna said. “Nearest vessel.”
“In all the years in the Night Market, no one has tried to change that?” The practice seemed entirely impractical and dangerous to continue on as long as it had.
“Of course they have. Blood has most certainly been shed over such a thing. However, the Night Market is a living breathing entity onto itself. We can squabble all we want while living within her confines but in the end, the choice comes down to her.”
[[Wait. The Night Market is alive?]]
[[How did the Gatekeeper become so secretive?]]“Why only nine Barons?” I ask. “If the market is ever expanding how is it that nine Barons are able to rule and dictate the rules for everyone here?”
“How indeed?” she smiled. “The well known secret is that they are not as in control as they think they are. Nine Barons for an entire district, full of souls coming and going and coming and going. It is impossible.”
“So why keep up with the charade?”
“What else are we to do?” she laughed, gesturing at the people who wandering the alley with us. “We are creatures of habit. We like being told what to do. Who to trust. If we have no one above us, no one to blame when things go wrong and no one to go to when we need understanding and help, we would surly perish.”
“So then who does rule the district?”
“The Velvet Guard does their best,” she said. “They are numerous and are recruiting more and more every day. I hear their Warden is a rigid task master which is probably beneficial to an extent. That leaves the Baron’s to meet once a month with their wine and their finery and make more rules that they hope the Guard will implement while they wash their hands of responsibility until they meet again.”
“You don’t sound like you like them much?”
She smiled. “Dear heart. It is not my job to like or dislike. It is simply to observe.”
[[How do you become a Baron?]]
[[Are there districts completely free of Baron control?]]
[[How did the Gatekeeper become so secretive?]]
[[Does anyone get a say in who is Baron? Like a vote or what not?]]“So do the Barons only rule over the district that they have title of?” Everyone seemed to have an elevated name. I had heard whispers of the Barons here and there, some people coming into Hazel’s shop sharing tidbits of gossip where a Baron’s name was surly always dropped.
“The titles are in name only. Gives a bit more flare to people who are exceedingly uninteresting. Although, I do have a fondness for the Baron of the Books. He is a judgmental man who cannot be bothered by the made up politics of the market. The way I understand it, he only rarely likes to contribute to the society as a whole.”
“So the title’s mean nothing. Do they change with each Baron?”
“Yes. Fancy monikers to give a sense of importance.” She said with a dismissive wave. “Once a month, the Barons all meet. If anything new within the Night Market needs to be discussed, they do so then. Policies will be put into place and what not. Then, it is the duty of the Velvet Guard to in act all this. It is a terribly tedious and boring process, I am sure. A baron is only as affluent as they make themselves out to be, however.”
“You don’t sound like you like them much.” She didn’t sound like she liked them at all, in fact.
She smiled. “Dear heart. It is not my job to like or dislike. It is simply to observe.”
[[How do you become a Baron?]]
[[Are there districts completely free of Baron control?]]
[[How did the Gatekeeper become so secretive?]]
[[Does anyone get a say in who is Baron? Like a vote or what not?]]The lanterns above began to turn reflective as small mirrors hanging from each, bounced light across the alley. I could hear the rumble of conversation, much louder than it had been in a lot of the other districts. More and more people seemed to be traversing this alley than I was used to. They were all dressed to perfection. Layers of silken skirts, hiked up into deep boned corsets and vests. Long jackets lined with fur or gems. I could sit within the alley itself and watch the people all day.
“Are there any districts out there that are free of baron control?” I asked curiously. The thought that the Night Market was as expansive as it boasted was still something I couldn’t quite wrap my head around.
“The further out you travel,” she said. Nearly everyone we passed was looking at Belladonna. I wondered if she didn’t travel through the districts often. Or if these were simply not the parts she was seen in. “I have been told by a few travelers that there are entire swaths of the Night Market that the Velvet Guard does not even know about. New areas’ forming and stretching every day.”
“Do you believe them?”
“Perhaps. I believe that they believe it. I have not seen it with my own eyes, however. If there is one bead of wisdom I can impart on you, dear heart, it is to only believe what you yourself has confirmed. Never rely on another to give you the truth of the matter.”
My brows furrowed as we continued to walk and I could feel Belladonna observing me, chipping away at whatever cracks she saw.
“How are you surviving, in the midst of all this chaos?” she asked after a moment. “I am truly curious.”
[[I’m trying to live my life while also keeping an eye out for any information about home]]
[[I feel guilty for doing anything other than looking for information about home]]
[[I don’t know. Some days I forget that I even had a life before. I’m not sure if that’s good or not]]The lanterns above began to turn reflective as small mirrors hanging from each, bounced light across the alley. I could hear the rumble of conversation, much louder than it had been in a lot of the other districts. More and more people seemed to be traversing this alley than I was used to. They were all dressed to perfection. Layers of silken skirts, hiked up into deep boned corsets and vests. Long jackets lined with fur or gems. I could sit within the alley itself and watch the people all day.
“Why is the Gatekeeper the only Baron that is so secretive?”
“They’re not,” she said simply. “There have been others who have not wished to show their face. The current Baron of the Docks sends disgusting looking proxies in their place for any of the meetings. A way to not only keep their identity secret but also a way to give the middle finger, if you will, to the rest of the Barons. It is rumored they do not like the other Barons. It is also rumored that they had a torrid affair with one of them.”
I couldn’t help but think of a circle of well-to-do and finely dressed individuals. All sitting around, sipping their wine, while a sludge muster trudged up to the vacant chair, ready to cast a vote on which road to repave.
“Given all that, it is entirely understandable why the Gatekeeper is so secretive.”
I nodded. “That much power is bound to corrupt. It also is a target on your back, I suppose.”
“Exactly. How the first Gatekeeper figured this out? I don’t know. Perhaps a long line of dead Gatekeepers had to form first before they caught on that anonymity was probably for the best.”
My brows furrowed as we continued to walk and I could feel Belladonna observing me, chipping away at whatever cracks she saw.
“How are you surviving, in the midst of all this chaos?” she asked after a moment. “I am truly curious.”
[[I’m trying to live my life while also keeping an eye out for any information about home]]
[[I feel guilty for doing anything other than looking for information about home]]
[[I don’t know. Some days I forget that I even had a life before. I’m not sure if that’s good or not]]The lanterns above began to turn reflective as small mirrors hanging from each, bounced light across the alley. I could hear the rumble of conversation, much louder than it had been in a lot of the other districts. More and more people seemed to be traversing this alley than I was used to. They were all dressed to perfection. Layers of silken skirts, hiked up into deep boned corsets and vests. Long jackets lined with fur or gems. I could sit within the alley itself and watch the people all day.
“So no one votes then? No one gets a say in who becomes the Gatekeeper?”
“Not unless you are the one to kill them and take their power, no,” she said with a deep sigh. I got the feeling that the rules behind becoming a new Gatekeeper was personally frustrating to her.
“But it’s an entire market. Why wouldn’t the people here rise against them? Surely all these people against nine, even nine powerful Barons, could handle deposing them if they are truly as ineffective as you make them out to be.”
As my voice grew in volume, she flicked her gaze to me. “You are assuming people are unhappy, dear heart.”
I looked around. The people within the alley were laughing. Smiling. Dressed beautifully. But I had also seen so much poverty. So much destruction. The docks themselves and the way they handled policing such a place, was problematic at best.
My brows furrowed as we continued to walk and I could feel Belladonna observing me, chipping away at whatever cracks she saw.
“How are you surviving, in the midst of all this chaos?” she asked after a moment. “I am truly curious.”
My brows furrowed as we continued to walk and I could feel Belladonna observing me, chipping away at whatever cracks she saw.
“How are you surviving, in the midst of all this chaos?” she asked after a moment. “I am truly curious.”
[[I’m trying to live my life while also keeping an eye out for any information about home]]
[[I feel guilty for doing anything other than looking for information about home]]
[[I don’t know. Some days I forget that I even had a life before. I’m not sure if that’s good or not]]I paused. It took me a moment to register what she was saying but when she did, I felt her words click in place. The Night Market was alive. This nebulous force, the world we were walking upon, had thought and sentience.
“Are you alright, dear heart?” Belladonna asked.
“Yes,” I told her, a frown appearing between my brows. “I just… there’s something about the market being alive that feels odd to me.” It sent a shiver down my arms and slotted into place in my chest. I could feel it lodged there now. A small piece of knowledge I didn’t have before.
“Do we need to stop?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “No.” I ignored it. At least for now. But I filed it away for myself, doubtful it would let me forget about it any time soon.
[[Are there districts completely free of Baron control?]]
[[How did the Gatekeeper become so secretive?]]
[[Does anyone get a say in who is Baron? Like a vote or what not?]]“I’m doing the best I can, I think. I’ve been trying to live my life and enjoy my days. Despite knowing that this isn’t where I belong. So, I guess I’m also trying to keep my eye out for any information that might lead me to the Gatekeeper or home.”
Belladonna nodded, considering that for a moment. “There is strength in that. Not dwelling. Too many get lost with what they think they should be doing that they forget that there is a life at their feet.”
“I’m just worried,” I confided.
“About what?” By the tone of her voice, I thought she may already know. But she was kind and patient, waiting for me to acknowledge the words that I had been trying hard to shove away.
“That I’ll be here so long that when I do finally find my way home, I won’t want to go.” The confession shook me. It rattled the very space that I was in and wound a vice-like grip around my heart. It was terrifying to think that I could be working so hard for something that I didn’t even want in the end.
When Belladonna stopped, leaning close to me, I looked at her with a shuddering breath. Gently, she reached out, brushing my hair from my eyes. “Thus is the plight of a life well lived,” she whispered. “Now, come along,” she said, straightening. “The Fashion District awaits and I simply must get you out of such dreadful clothes.”
[[Next|Chapter Three B5]]
“I feel guilty,” I confessed. “I know that I shouldn’t but even coming on this outing makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to get home. Like I shouldn’t be worrying about clothes because if I would just try a little harder, I wouldn’t even need an extra set of clothes. I’d already be back to where I belong.”
Belladonna nodded sagely, rolling my words around for a moment. “Do you intend to fall into an obsession then?”
“I intend to get home,” I said firmly.
She all but rolled her eyes at my conviction. “Of course, dear. But that is not what I asked. I asked if you intend to fall into an obsession. Do you intend to allow this to consume you? Be the moment that defines your life and let no others shape you?”
I looked at her, feeling the urge to reject her words. I had a feeling she wouldn’t have cared if I did. Belladonna didn’t look pulsed by much. But I wanted to hold onto this. To keep that fire in me in order to fuel my path to wherever the truth laid. I didn’t want to let it disappear because if it did, I didn’t know if I would have anything left.
Opening my mouth, I went to tell her just that. She interrupted me before I could make a sound.
“Don’t answer that,” she said after a second. “Just something for you to mull over. Meanwhile, let's get you out of those dreadful clothes. It is doing nothing for your complexion.”
[[Next|Chapter Three B5]]
“I try not to think about it, really,” I told her. “I don’t know if that is good or not. Or if it is a sign that I’m not dealing. But there it is. Some days I forget that I had a life before here. Other days, it’s all I can think about.”
“Do you feel a struggle to balance the emotions?”
“At times.” I looked at her honestly. There was no judgement on her face. I doubted much phased someone like Belladonna. “I’m just trying to take each day as it comes, I suppose.”
“Well, then, let's take today to get you out of those clothes. They are doing absolutely nothing for your complexion.”
[[Next|Chapter Three B5]]
We emerged from the alley to find the open sky above. Small hand mirrors dangled from the lanterns, swaying in such a way that bounced light off every available surface. Several long paths were stretched out in front of us, their floors made of thick mirrored glass. Beautifully crafted stalls were set upon them, each of which were brimming with jewels and silks and piles of clothing that looked soft and supple.
A floating platform slowly meandered through the air above us, where men and women danced, skirts and coat tails ruffling in the wind. They were performing some kind of waltz, dipping and swaying to show what each outfit could do. As I continued to look at them, I noticed how the clothes were inches off the floor, no feet encased within the adorned shoes. They were nothing more than displays, waltzing together in a grand ball over our head.
Next to us, a few individuals were pointing, some talking to different seamstresses in hopes of catering the outfit on display to their own design. When they saw Belladonna, they gasped. Suddenly, the whispers spread throughout the market and the seamstresses were all turning her way.
“Well?” she asked me with a raised brow.
[[This is amazing!|Amazing B]]
[[I don’t even know where to begin|IDK B]]
[[I thought magic wasn’t allowed here|Magic B]]
“This is incredible,” I exclaimed, looking around with wide eyes. Everywhere I looked was another mirror, reflecting a different aspect of the crowd all around. Tunics, bloomers and bejeweled shoes were tossed about, the trade between the stalls quick and efficient. It was beautiful in a way that I knew other parts of the district were not. Even if I spent the entire day here, I doubted I would see everything.
Miles and miles of reflective runways ran before us, patrons walking up and down the walkway with purpose. I could see arms laden with shopping bags and pack mules lumbering slowly along, wares strapped to their backs.
“We of course won’t be shopping here,” Belladonna said.
I turned to her, looking at her with wide eyes. “Why?” It looked as if the strip we were on had almost everything I needed. But Belladonna’s gaze was already drifting.
“Come along,” she told me, stepping forward into the crowd. I was forced to rush after her again, so as not to lose her.
Wandering through the crowd, I kept my eyes trained on the back of Belladonna’s head. Her fiery red hair reflected around us, the mirrors causing an infinity loop everywhere I looked. When she tipped her head over her shoulder, looking at me with a raised brow, I remembered what she said about not following behind.
I rushed up to her side, my head whipping back and forth as I tried to take it all in. Thee was a mirrored staircase ahead, spiraling upwards into the treetops to the highest platform where I could see outfits sauntering on display, up and down the aisle.
Belladonna tutted a bit as we approached the bottom of the stairs. “This will not do,” she murmured. Tapping her foot, she rested her hand on the banister. The bottom step began moving, wandering upwards. I barely had time to step on before it got too far away.
When the step finally halted, I looked around. Everything was mirrored. Small sections were smokier than others, blurred out in a mercury fog until someone stood in front of them admiring their reflection. I could see a large man across the way, his burgundy hair falling around him, black and gold tattoo’s spreading across his skin like long belts. He wore a pair of pants that tucked in around the ankles and banded gold bangles around each wrist.
“Feebus,” Belladonna sang.
The man turned, his smile wide and his arms opening in invitation. “Why the beautiful Belladonna!” he called out. He made his way over to us in three strides and I thought he would snatch her up and spin her around. But instead, he knelt before her, his meaty hand taking the one she held out while his lips kissed the back of her knuckles.
“To what do I owe your beauty gracing my presences today? Have you come to finally model for me?”
Belladonna called a blush to her face, fluttering her lashes prettily at the man. “You know you could never afford me, Feebus,” she admonished. “Though your last batch of spider silk négligées has brought in quite the clientele.”
“I do think it is you, my dear, that brought in that clientele. Not my négligées.”
“Well,” Belladonna giggled. It was downright girlish of her and sent my eyes widening in shock. Was she acting or was she truly complimented by this man's words?
[[Next|Chapter Three B7]]
“Where do I even begin?” I asked her, looking around with wide eyes. Everywhere I looked was another mirror, reflecting a different aspect of the crowd all around. Tunics, bloomers and bejeweled shoes were tossed about, the trade between the stalls quick and efficient. It was beautiful in a way that I knew other parts of the district couldn’t offer. Even if I spent the entire day here, I doubted I would see everything.
Miles and miles of reflective runways ran before us, patrons walking up and down the walkway with purpose. I could see arms laden with shopping bags and pack mules lumbering slowly along, wares strapped to their backs.
“Not here,” Belladonna answered me. “You can of course do better than this.”
“My wallet cannot.”
“Dear, I already told you. You cannot afford the clothes I will be putting you in. It’s my treat to spoil you today.” Her gaze was looking upwards, far past the vendors that were before us, looking at us, hopefully. “Come along,” she told me, stepping forward into the crowd. I was forced to rush after her again, so as not to lose her.
Wandering through the crowd, I kept my eyes trained on the back of Belladonna’s head. Her fiery red hair reflected around us, the mirrors causing an infinity loop everywhere I looked. When she tipped her head over her shoulder, looking at me with a raised brow, I remembered what she said about not following behind.
I rushed up to her side, my head whipping back and forth as I tried to take it all in. Thee was a mirrored staircase ahead, spiraling upwards into the treetops to the highest platform where I could see outfits sauntering on display, up and down the aisle.
Belladonna tutted a bit as we approached the bottom of the stairs. “This will not do,” she murmured. Tapping her foot, she rested her hand on the banister. The bottom step began moving, wandering upwards. I barely had time to step on before it got too far away.
When the step finally halted, I looked around. Everything was mirrored. Small sections were smokier than others, blurred out in a mercury fog until someone stood in front of them admiring their reflection. I could see a large man across the way, his burgundy hair falling around him, black and gold tattoo’s spreading across his skin like long belts. He wore a pair of pants that tucked in around the ankles and banded gold bangles around each wrist.
“Feebus,” Belladonna sang.
The man turned, his smile wide and his arms opening in invitation. “Why the beautiful Belladonna!” he called out. He made his way over to us in three strides and I thought he would snatch her up and spin her around. But instead, he knelt before her, his meaty hand taking the one she held out while his lips kissed the back of her knuckles.
“To what do I owe your beauty gracing my presences today? Have you come to finally model for me?”
Belladonna called a blush to her face, fluttering her lashes prettily at the man. “You know you could never afford me, Feebus,” she admonished. “Though your last batch of spider silk négligées has brought in quite the clientele.”
“I do think it is you, my dear, that brought in that clientele. Not my négligées.”
“Well,” Belladonna giggled. It was downright girlish of her and sent my eyes widening in shock. Was she acting or was she truly complimented by this man's words?
[[Next|Chapter Three B7]]
It was clear with just one look that magic was at work all around us. “I thought this would be illegal,” I told Belladonna. Everywhere I looked was another mirror, reflecting a different aspect of the crowd all around. Tunics, bloomers and bejeweled shoes were tossed about, the trade between the stalls quick and efficient. It was beautiful in a way that I knew other parts of the district couldn’t offer. Even if I spent the entire day here, I doubted I would see everything.
“Dear heart,” Belladonna cooed, looking at me with the deepest affection. “You should know by now that the rules are only in place for those that follow them.”
Miles and miles of reflective runways ran before us, patrons walking up and down the walkway with purpose. I could see arms laden with shopping bags and pack mules lumbering slowly along, wares strapped to their backs.
Her gaze was looking upwards, far past the vendors that were before us, looking at us, hopefully. “Come along,” she told me, stepping forward into the crowd. I was forced to rush after her again, so as not to lose her.
Wandering through the crowd, I kept my eyes trained on the back of Belladonna’s head. Her fiery red hair reflected around us, the mirrors causing an infinity loop everywhere I looked. When she tipped her head over her shoulder, looking at me with a raised brow, I remembered what she said about not following behind.
I rushed up to her side, my head whipping back and forth as I tried to take it all in. There was a mirrored staircase ahead, spiraling upwards into the treetops to the highest platform where I could see outfits sauntering on display, up and down the aisle.
Belladonna tutted a bit as we approached the bottom of the stairs. “This will not do,” she murmured. Tapping her foot, she rested her hand on the banister. The bottom step began moving, wandering upwards. I barely had time to step on before it got too far away.
When the step finally halted, I looked around. Everything was mirrored. Small sections were smokier than others, blurred out in a mercury fog until someone stood in front of them admiring their reflection. I could see a large man across the way, his burgundy hair falling around him, black and gold tattoo’s spreading across his skin like long belts. He wore a pair of pants that tucked in around the ankles and banded gold bangles around each wrist.
“Feebus,” Belladonna sang.
The man turned, his smile wide and his arms opening in invitation. “Why the beautiful Belladonna!” he called out. He made his way over to us in three strides and I thought he would snatch her up and spin her around. But instead, he knelt before her, his meaty hand taking the one she held out while his lips kissed the back of her knuckles.
“To what do I owe your beauty gracing my presences today? Have you come to finally model for me?”
Belladonna called a blush to her face, fluttering her lashes prettily at the man. “You know you could never afford me, Feebus,” she admonished. “Though your last batch of spider silk négligées has brought in quite the clientele.”
“I do think it is you, my dear, that brought in that clientele. Not my négligées.”
“Well,” Belladonna giggled. It was downright girlish of her and sent my eyes widening in shock. Was she acting or was she truly complimented by this man's words?
[[Next|Chapter Three B7]]
“Feebus,” she said with a small pout. “I have a small favor to ask you.”
“Anything for you, my lady. You know this.”
“I have a little pet project that I need help with.” Stepping aside, she gestured to me. “This is $name. I need ?them to be elevated a bit. Could we possibly have a sneak peek at next season's fashion?”
The man, Feebus, took a stern look at me, his eyes wandering up and down and side to side, as if fitting me for clothes. I felt exposed, suddenly. Like the clothes I wore covered absolutely nothing. Despite his discerning eye, his face was kind. Rising from where he knelt in front of Belladonna he took a long walk around me. Studying me. When he came back to where I could see his face, he was smiling.
“You, little muse, are in for a treat,” he grinned.
I stared at him, almost afraid to say anything at all. Behind us though, Belladonna looked positively giddy.
“What is it you would like to wear?” Feebus asked me, his voice loud and echoing. “Darin! Champagne for our guest. The special vintage for our dear Belladonna.”
A man in a coat of white gold, ran from the raised platform in a blur. I barely got a look at his face before he had raced away.
“Feebus, couldn’t I pick what they wear?” Belladonna’s voice was pouty. It was the only way I could describe it. She was looking at this big man, her golden eyes wide and dewey, her hands clasped in front of her in askance.
“Belladonna. You know as well as I do that fashion is the most intimate choice a person can make for themselves. You cannot play dress up, my dear. Not today.”
Belladonna looked genuinely put out by this, her lower lip curling out in saddened disgust. When Feebus saw this he came to her, tipping her chin up in a move that I was almost certain no one else was allowed to do. “I do have a nice little new hire, though. You could dress them up for their work day. I have been meaning to change the uniforms.”
She sighed, looking only vaguely appeased, looking at Feebus expectantly. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment and I didn’t know if they were going to fight or kiss. Feebus, broke first. Sighing loudly. “Alright, darling. Alright. You can pick the fabrics for the little muse. Does that appeal to your boujee little heart?”
“Yes,” she said with a grin.
Feebus rolled his eyes but kissed her on the cheek before turning to me. “Alright then, little one, you have choices.”
“Choices?” I asked.
He tapped his chin, nodding to himself as if he was already making those choices for me. “How about we start with the basics. Pants. Skirt. Or both, perhaps?”
[[Pants|Bottoms B][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[Skirt|Bottoms B][$bottoms to "skirts"]]
[[Both|Bottoms B][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]
“I’d prefer $bottoms,” I told him. Feebus held up his hand and snapped. A few people began rushing around, grabbing fabrics and patterns for Belladonna’s approval. The woman was sitting back on a velvet chair, her legs crossed, one over the other, looking at the presented fabric with a discerning eye. The ones she didn’t like, she waved away with a slight wrinkle to her nose while the ones that caught her eye made her face light up and dance.
Feebus shook his head at her, turning back to me. “Corset, vest, or neither, little muse.”
[[Corset|Vest B][$vest to "corset"]]
[[Vest|Vest B][$vest to "vest"]]
[[Neither|Vest B][$vest to "no vest or corset"]]
<<set $dailyattire to "true">>When I chose $vest, he nodded, pulling out a long gold line of string and wrapping it around my torso. I eyed it as it snapped into place, glittering faintly before dissolving into thin air. “How are we feeling about an over skirt? Yes or no.”
[[Yes|Overskirt B][$overskirt to "yes"]]
[[No|Overskirt B][$overskirt to "no overskirt"]]
“And how about a jacket. The nights do get cold here. Do you want a short one or a long one?”
From the seating area, Belladonna cleared her throat. “Both, Feebus. They need options.”
Feebus looked over his shoulder. “Belladonna,” he warned.
The woman rolled her eyes and leaned towards one of the seamstresses. I had a feeling that no matter what I picked, I would be getting more than what I was asking for.
[[Short|Jacket B][$jacket to "short jacket"]]
[[Long|Jacket B][$jacket to "long jacket"]]
“And how are we feeling about a headpiece?” he asked.
“Ooo!” Belladonna cooed. “Something sparkly perhaps? Crystals would look stunning against their complexion.”
Feebus looked at me with a smile. “She just can’t help herself,” he laughed. “But what is it you would like. A hat. A scarf perhaps? A wrap even? If you are not going to wear one that is fine but at least have it for the rainy lantern days.”
[[Hat|Headpiece B][$headpiece to "hat"]]
[[Scarf|Headpiece B][$headpiece to "scarf"]]
[[Wrap|Headpiece B][$headpiece to "wrap"]]
Upon my final answer, Feebus turned, walking towards a few of the seamstresses and giving them directions. When a chair appeared next to Belladonna, along with a small tea service, I wondered if I was to go sit with her now. But instead, several people rushed forward, all of whom were chattering away, holding up yards of fabric and ribbon and beautiful gold threaded gems against my body.
“Enjoy this, dear,” Belladonna called. I could see a long flute of crimson wine perched between her fingers. Next to her, Feebus sat down, taking a bottle out from the tea cart and pouring himself a goblet.
Belladonna and Feebus drank wine, commenting occasionally as little pixies and fire foxes began flitting around me, taking my measurements and stitching my clothes far faster than I thought possible. Periodically, Feebus would get up, making an adjustment of his own, before sitting back down to converse with Belladonna. The two of them looked like old friends, relaxed and casual with each other.
I didn’t know how long I stood but I could see the finery replacing my old garments in a whirlwind of speed. By the time a mirror was rolled in front of me, I was covered in my new outfit.
Looking over the new clothes, I nearly reached out and touched them. They were in an array of different colors and patterns and I couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sight. It was already so different from what I owned.
Overall, the style I chose was more…
[[Revealing, despite all the layers|Modesty B][$modesty to "revealing"]]
[[A conglomeration of layers that fit perfectly. Not too loose or tight|Modesty B][$modesty to "perfectly fitting"]]
[[Modest and comfortable|Modesty B][$modesty to "modest"]]
It was more $modesty. I found that it suited me much more than what I was wearing and even though I didn’t have them on yet, I felt a sense of self return. No longer would I be in the clothes I had been in when I arrived. <<if $miloclothes == "true">>Or the clothes Milo stole for me.<</if>> Instead, I was in something that was mine.
Looking over at Belladonna I shifted on my feet.
“Well, come here. Let me see you,” she said, putting her wine aside.
I stepped forward, holding my arms out to my side. Belladonna looked at me, her eyes traveling over every inch of my form. Slowly, she stood, walking towards me in that slow, predatory step that I had seen her do so often. I could feel her breath on the back of my neck as she rounded to my other side.
Finally, she looked at Feebus. “Beautiful,” she intoned. “As always. You are a master.” Feebus smiled and bowed, waving his hand in a flourish.
When she turned towards me I opened my mouth to speak but found the words dying in my throat as one, delicate nail was placed beneath my chin, tipping it upwards.
“You, my dear, look absolutely edible.”
“Is that good?”
“It is very good,” she laughed. “Very, very good.”
Turning, she clapped her hands. “Feebus, are we still on this week for wine and cheese. There is an absolutely delectable bit of information I think you would be interested in trading for.”
Feebus chuckled lowly. “I doubt I could keep you from my doors even if I tried.” Looking at me, he smiled. “You come back and visit me anytime, little muse.”
“Thank you, Feebus,” I said sincerely.
“Little muse. I do enjoy that,” Belladonna said. “I might have to keep that one.”
[[(flirt) You could keep me]]
[[Thank you for the clothes]]
[[I don’t know how I’m supposed to repay you for all of this]]
“You could keep me,” I blurted. The words were out before I could stop them and the grin on her face was one that was deliciously intrigued.
“Could I?” she asked. “And you would be okay with that? You’d be okay with being kept? Because, dear heart, here’s the thing. If you give yourself to me, you are mine. Utterly. Completely. Irreversibly mine. Are you ready for such a thing?”
I stared at her, my mind blank as her words wove around my head. I wanted to answer. I knew I did. But something within her expression commanded me. Not yet. Not now.
“Think upon it,” she said softly. Then, straightening, she was back to Belladonna. The woman that had walked through the market with her head held high while people gawked at her from afar. “So,” she finally said, “what is the plan with your new clothes. Where will you be taking them first?”
“I was hoping I could stay with you,” I said.
She looked at me. Longer than most did. Her eyes running up and down, assessing me. Many were assessed in Belladonna Malady’s presence. Not many passed whatever internal test she held us all too.
“Alright,” she said slowly. Her voice was less lilting, dropping to a deeper cadence for those two syllables. I got the sense it was closer to her actual tone. Not the courtesan that she paraded to the rest of the market. “Come with me then.”
I found myself once more, rushing after her. Trying to make sure to stand by her side. “Where are we going?”
“No, sweetness. You said you wished to come with me. Not that you wished to know where our journey would take us.”
I smiled a little at that. I should have known. The more time I spent with her, the more it was clear that being concise worked far better in my favor.
Belladonna took me out of the fashion district but not back the way we came. Instead, she led me along a back passageway. One that melted into a near pitch black alley, with only dim grey lanterns swaying above us like some forgotten tomb. It was colder here, and I suddenly wished I had chosen a coat that was much warmer than the one I was now wearing. Belladonna, still in her high slit dress, was unaffected by it all.
We wandered in silence for a time, and even with the words that I wished to ask her, I felt like I couldn’t push them past my throat. Not until we came to the end of the alleyway and a beautiful little courtyard appeared before us.
The courtyard was made of stone with little round tables and chairs littering the expanse of it. The walls were bound by waxy leaves of dark green ivy, crawling upwards and disappearing from view into a beautiful night sky. There was the deep trickle of a fountain in the center of the courtyard, the water black as ink with glittering shards of crystal upon the surface. A few individuals meandered around, most in pairs. Some of them were glassy eyed, looking at their companions dotingly.
[[I was intrigued by what I saw]]
[[I was apprehensive about what I saw]]
[[Everything was dark and unfamiliar but I was trusting Belladonna would not lead me astray]]“Belladonna, thank you,” I said, running my hands down the fabric of my clothes. They were so nice that I was concerned I would ruin them at Hazel’s. “Thank you so much.”
“You are ever so welcome. It brings me joy to see you dressed in such finery. You now look the part you were meant to play.”
“The part?” I asked.
“Someone who can take on the world, dear heart. And do it with style.”
I laughed a little at that. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” she said, her voice suddenly serious.
I shifted uncomfortably. Take on the world all due to a set of clothes. It seemed nearly impossible to do but I couldn’t take away the fact that I felt confident. More so than I had all week.
“So, she finally said, what is the plan with your new clothes. Where will you be taking them first?”
“I was hoping I could stay with you,” I said.
She looked at me. Longer than most did. Her eyes running up and down, assessing me. Many were assessed in Belladonna Malady’s presence. Not many passed whatever internal test she held us all too.
“Alright,” she said slowly. Her voice was less lilting, dropping to a deeper cadence for those two syllables. I got the sense it was closer to her actual tone. Not the courtesan that she paraded to the rest of the market. “Come with me then.”
I found myself once more, rushing after her. Trying to make sure to stand by her side. “Where are we going?”
“No, sweetness. You said you wished to come with me. Not that you wished to know where our journey would take us.”
I smiled a little at that. I should have known. The more time I spent with her, the more it was clear that being concise worked far better in my favor.
Belladonna took me out of the fashion district but not back the way we came. Instead, she led me along a back passageway. One that melted into a near pitch black alley, with only dim grey lanterns swaying above us like some forgotten tomb. It was colder here, and I suddenly wished I had chosen a coat that was much warmer than the one I was now wearing. Belladonna, still in her high slit dress, was unaffected by it all.
We wandered in silence for a time, and even with the words that I wished to ask her, I felt like I couldn’t push them past my throat. Not until we came to the end of the alleyway and a beautiful little courtyard appeared before us.
The courtyard was made of stone with little round tables and chairs littering the expanse of it. The walls were bound by waxy leaves of dark green ivy, crawling upwards and disappearing from view into a beautiful night sky. There was the deep trickle of a fountain in the center of the courtyard, the water black as ink with glittering shards of crystal upon the surface. A few individuals meandered around, most in pairs. Some of them were glassy eyed, looking at their companions dotingly.
[[I was intrigued by what I saw]]
[[I was apprehensive about what I saw]]
[[Everything was dark and unfamiliar but I was trusting Belladonna would not lead me astray]]“Belladonna, I don't know how I will ever repay you for the clothes,” I said, running my hands down the fabric of my clothes. They were so nice that I was almost concerned I would ruin them at Hazel. “Thank you so much.”
“I told you, //little muse//, you could not possibly afford what I wanted you to wear. And what kind of person would I be to deny you such exquisite clothes? You now look the part you were meant to play.”
“The part?” I asked.
“Someone who can take on the world, dear heart. And do it with style.”
I laughed a little at that. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” she said, her voice suddenly serious.
I shifted uncomfortably. Take on the world all due to a set of clothes. It seemed nearly impossible to do but I couldn’t take away the fact that I felt confident. More so than I had all week.
“So, she finally said, what is the plan with your new clothes. Where will you be taking them first?”
“I was hoping I could stay with you,” I said.
She looked at me. Longer than most did. Her eyes running up and down, assessing me. Many were assessed in Belladonna Malady’s presence. Not many passed whatever internal test she held us all too.
“Alright,” she said slowly. Her voice was less lilting, dropping to a deeper cadence for those two syllables. I got the sense it was closer to her actual tone. Not the courtesan that she paraded to the rest of the market. “Come with me then.”
I found myself once more, rushing after her. Trying to make sure to stand by her side. “Where are we going?”
“No, sweetness. You said you wished to come with me. Not that you wished to know where our journey would take us.”
I smiled a little at that. I should have known. The more time I spent with her, the more it was clear that being concise worked far better in my favor.
Belladonna took me out of the fashion district but not back the way we came. Instead, she led me along a back passageway. One that melted into a near pitch black alley, with only dim grey lanterns swaying above us like some forgotten tomb. It was colder here, and I suddenly wished I had chosen a coat that was much warmer than the one I was now wearing. Belladonna, still in her high slit dress, was unaffected by it all.
We wandered in silence for a time, and even with the words that I wished to ask her, I felt like I couldn’t push them past my throat. Not until we came to the end of the alleyway and a beautiful little courtyard appeared before us.
The courtyard was made of stone with little round tables and chairs littering the expanse of it. The walls were bound by waxy leaves of dark green ivy, crawling upwards and disappearing from view into a beautiful night sky. There was the deep trickle of a fountain in the center of the courtyard, the water black as ink with glittering shards of crystal upon the surface. A few individuals meandered around, most in pairs. Some of them were glassy eyed, looking at their companions dotingly.
[[I was intrigued by what I saw]]
[[I was apprehensive about what I saw]]
[[Everything was dark and unfamiliar but I was trusting Belladonna would not lead me astray]]
The world around me was dark. Decadent in a way that I had yet to see. Not even beneath the pink lights of the Pleasure District. This was much more reminiscent to Belladonna’s garden and felt far more forbidden. It offered me a thrill of excitement as I looked around, the air placid and cool against my heated cheeks.
I swallowed thickly as I spied two women in the corner, both leaning forward, their lips attached to either side of a man's neck.
“Mistress Malady,” a man with curly white hair bowed deeply. His skin was pale and shot through with blue veins, his eyes a bright apple red. “We did not expect you so soon.”
“I was in the area,” she said, elongating her words in boredom. She did not look at the man, not directly, and instead cast her eyes to the far corners of the courtyard. “I thought I would stop by. See how things were running.”
“As you can see, everything is running smoothly. Hopefully to your liking.”
She tipped her head to the side, her long hair falling over one shoulder. “I shall be the judge of that.” She didn’t glance at me, but as she stepped aside, she waited for the man to cast his gaze upon mine. “This one is not to be touched, understood?”
He looked nervous. “One of yours, Mistress?”
When her gaze finally did snap to his it was with an audible crack. I felt a chill roll through the dark. “It does not matter if they are or are not. Do. Not. Touch. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, Mistress.” The man bowed deeply, adverting his eyes.
“Good.” The shiver that ran across my spine at the deep vibrato to my voice seized me. When Belladonna began walking forward, I did as well, feeling nearly compelled to do so.
[[Give an apologetic look towards the man]]
[[Look and observe what is happening within the courtyard]]
[[Keep your head down and follow Belladonna]]Despite having walked some of the darkest alley’s within the Night Market, the courtyard before me gave me pause. I was apprehensive at what I was looking at, suddenly aware that the districts I had seen thus far were pretty and designed to offer safety. Other than the beach and burnt alley, the Night Market had done well to try and offer a welcoming tone.
I swallowed thickly as I spied two women in the corner, both leaning forward, their lips attached to either side of a man's neck.
“Mistress Malady,” a man with curly white hair bowed deeply. His skin was pale and shot through with blue veins, his eyes a bright apple red. “We did not expect you so soon.”
“I was in the area,” she said, elongating her words in boredom. She did not look at the man, not directly, and instead cast her eyes to the far corners of the courtyard. “I thought I would stop by. See how things were running.”
“As you can see, everything is running smoothly. Hopefully to your liking.”
She tipped her head to the side, her long hair falling over one shoulder. “I shall be the judge of that.” She didn’t glance at me, but as she stepped aside, she waited for the man to cast his gaze upon mine. “This one is not to be touched, understood?”
He looked nervous. “One of yours, Mistress?”
When her gaze finally did snap to his it was with an audible crack. I felt a chill roll through the dark. “It does not matter if they are or are not. Do. Not. Touch. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, Mistress.” The man bowed deeply, adverting his eyes.
“Good.” The shiver that ran across my spine at the deep vibrato to my voice seized me. When Belladonna began walking forward, I did as well, feeling nearly compelled to do so.
[[Give an apologetic look towards the man]]
[[Look and observe what is happening within the courtyard]]
[[Keep your head down and follow Belladonna]]
The world was unfamiliar. It was dark in a way that I had not yet seen, existing in tones of muted grey with only pops of deep color. Despite having been to the Pleasure District, this courtyard seemed far more debauched and decadent than anything I had seen there. More reminiscent of Belladonna’s garden than anything else. Though, I hoped that Belladonna would not lead me astray. That she would protect me if we were truly entering some place of danger.
I swallowed thickly as I spied two women in the corner, both leaning forward, their lips attached to either side of a man's neck.
“Mistress Malady,” a man with curly white hair bowed deeply. His skin was pale and shot through with blue veins, his eyes a bright apple red. “We did not expect you so soon.”
“I was in the area,” she said, elongating her words in boredom. She did not look at the man, not directly, and instead cast her eyes to the far corners of the courtyard. “I thought I would stop by. See how things were running.”
“As you can see, everything is running smoothly. Hopefully to your liking.”
She tipped her head to the side, her long hair falling over one shoulder. “I shall be the judge of that.” She didn’t glance at me, but as she stepped aside, she waited for the man to cast his gaze upon mine. “This one is not to be touched, understood?”
He looked nervous. “One of yours, Mistress?”
When her gaze finally did snap to his it was with an audible crack. I felt a chill roll through the dark. “It does not matter if they are or are not. Do. Not. Touch. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, Mistress.” The man bowed deeply, adverting his eyes.
“Good.” The shiver that ran across my spine at the deep vibrato to my voice seized me. When Belladonna began walking forward, I did as well, feeling nearly compelled to do so.
[[Give an apologetic look towards the man]]
[[Look and observe what is happening within the courtyard]]
[[Keep your head down and follow Belladonna]]I couldn’t help but stare at the man. He was dressed in a tailored suit. Something that fit his body well. The undershirt was a deep blue silk, along with sapphire cuff links that adorned each wrist. The colors made him look even paler than he actually was, his white hair nearly translucent under the grey light. When he lifted his gaze, I looked at him sympathetically. Belladonna’s voice had gone cold. Commanding. I doubted many operated well under that tone.
“Sorry,” I mouthed to him.
He blinked at me in surprise and offered me a watery smile before rushing away.
Slowly, she made her way through the courtyard. I didn’t see her cast a single glance at the couples within the corners. She did smile at a few sipping from pewter goblets at the tables. When she led me through a set of double doors I did not know what to expect. The inside had high vaulted ceilings with candles hanging suspended from wrought iron rafters. Tables and velvet covered loungers were placed throughout the room, a place for people to lounge in bliss, laying in a state of repose. The room itself mimicked the courtyard outside, however. Dark ivy still climbed the walls while beautiful black water features trickled throughout in an endless soothing noise.
When Belladonna led me to a small alcove, I ducked inside after her, my eyes glancing over my shoulder. While no one had moved towards us. Though all eyes had been upon Belladonna. And in return, me.
The alcove was lined with crimson velvet and a tufted booth. A low-lying onyx table was before us, a tea service already steaming and ready for our consumption. I didn’t know if this was meant for her, and they had quickly thrown it together, or if this was simply always here.
“What is this place?” I asked, hesitantly. This had not been what I expected when wishing to spend the day with her.
Leaning back against the velvet, Belladonna crossed one long leg over the other, an ample hip exposed to my eyes. “What do you think it is?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Try, dear heart. Answer carefully.”
[[A cafe]]
[[An extension of the Pleasure District]]
[[I’m almost afraid to ask]]Looking out over the courtyard, I tried not to stare. A woman caught my eye though. She was miles of dark skin with gold tattoo’s running up each bare leg. She glanced at me, her low cut dress looking as if it were made from water, flowing across her curvaceous form in scintillating ways. There was eagerness in her eyes. One that fell flat rather quickly. Before I could even respond to it.
When I looked over my shoulder, I saw Belladonna standing there. Her eyes a deep bronze and her face a stern mask of warning. She didn’t need to touch me or stake her claim for everyone to know. It was being made clear just by her expression, that I was here with her and her alone.
Slowly, she made her way through the courtyard. I didn’t see her cast a single glance at the couples within the corners. She did smile at a few sipping from pewter goblets at the tables. When she led me through a set of double doors I did not know what to expect. The inside had high vaulted ceilings with candles hanging suspended from wrought iron rafters. Tables and velvet covered loungers were placed throughout the room, a place for people to lounge in bliss, laying in a state of repose. The room itself mimicked the courtyard outside, however. Dark ivy still climbed the walls while beautiful black water features trickled throughout in an endless soothing noise.
When Belladonna led me to a small alcove, I ducked inside after her, my eyes glancing over my shoulder. While no one had moved towards us. Though all eyes had been upon Belladonna. And in return, me.
The alcove was lined with crimson velvet and a tufted booth. A low-lying onyx table was before us, a tea service already steaming and ready for our consumption. I didn’t know if this was meant for her, and they had quickly thrown it together, or if this was simply always here.
“What is this place?” I asked, hesitantly. This had not been what I expected when wishing to spend the day with her.
Leaning back against the velvet, Belladonna crossed one long leg over the other, an ample hip exposed to my eyes. “What do you think it is?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Try, dear heart. Answer carefully.”
[[A cafe]]
[[An extension of the Pleasure District]]
[[I’m almost afraid to ask]]Ducking my head, I took a deep breath, trying to keep my breathing under control. I could feel my heart pound in my chest and while I knew it was beating no faster, it for some reason sounded like drums within my ears. I followed Belladonna though, knowing it best to stick close.
Slowly, she made her way through the courtyard. I didn’t see her cast a single glance at the couples within the corners. She did smile at a few sipping from pewter goblets at the tables. When she led me through a set of double doors I did not know what to expect. The inside had high vaulted ceilings with candles hanging suspended from wrought iron rafters. Tables and velvet covered loungers were placed throughout the room, a place for people to lounge in bliss, laying in a state of repose. The room itself mimicked the courtyard outside, however. Dark ivy still climbed the walls while beautiful black water features trickled throughout in an endless soothing noise.
When Belladonna led me to a small alcove, I ducked inside after her, my eyes glancing over my shoulder. While no one had moved towards us. Though all eyes had been upon Belladonna. And in return, me.
The alcove was lined with crimson velvet and a tufted booth. A low-lying onyx table was before us, a tea service already steaming and ready for our consumption. I didn’t know if this was meant for her, and they had quickly thrown it together, or if this was simply always here.
“What is this place?” I asked, hesitantly. This had not been what I expected when wishing to spend the day with her.
Leaning back against the velvet, Belladonna crossed one long leg over the other, an ample hip exposed to my eyes. “What do you think it is?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Try, dear heart. Answer carefully.”
[[A cafe]]
[[An extension of the Pleasure District]]
[[I’m almost afraid to ask]]“An extension of the Pleasure District.” I didn’t know how it could be anything but. The figures all lying in blissed repose. The longing looks. Wandering hands. It felt like the precursor to something behind closed doors and I was almost certain that what was happening beneath the tables was not for public consumption.
Belladonna looked at me, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Interesting. Not my original intention but I could see where you would come to that conclusion.” Leaning forward, she poured a cup of tea and handed it to me. It smelled spicy and intoxicating. The cup warmed with the steam, little cracks of black spiderwebs racing across the porcelain in a beautiful array of wildflowers.
“It’s a sanctuary,” she said simply. “A place where people can come, free of judgement.”
“Free of judgement?”
She sipped at her own tea, her lipstick leaving a perfect stain along the rim. “The Night Market is rather progressive in some way. And in others, it is absolutely abysmal, as I am sure you must know. One of the ways in which it is lacking, is its treatment of anyone that finds pleasure from the bite.”
“The bite?” My eyes ticked outwards, catching sight of a few of the couples sitting at the stone tables.
She looked at me, leveling her golden eyes with amusement. “Dear heart,” she admonished. “I am afraid you may be missing a small piece of this puzzle.”
I watched the couples leaning together, their heads ducked low as they exchanged whispered words. They looked happy. Euphoric, even. And more than a few of them looked drunk. Though I saw no alcohol being served. Just tea. Spicy, heady, cups of tea.
But then I took it in. The few bits that I had ghosted over before. The way that one or more would lean into another, their lips sucking at the expanse of an exposed wrist or neck. The way the blood pooled in collarbones before being licked clean.
[[You’re a vampire, aren’t you]]
[[I knew you were a vampire. I just didn’t want to say anything]]
[[Well I feel a little silly for not seeing this before]]“I don’t know if I want to ask. Or guess, for that matter.” I said slowly. I doubted whatever I could come up with would be correct. It was more likely to offend than anything else.
Her golden eyes ticked outwards, surveying the people before us. I could not tell if she was searching for something or giving herself time to think of an answer. Leaning forward, she poured a cup of tea and handed it to me. It smelled spicy and intoxicating. The cup warmed with the steam, little cracks of black spiderwebs racing across the porcelain in a beautiful array of wildflowers.
“It’s a sanctuary,” she said simply. “A place where people can come, free of judgement.”
“Free of judgement?”
She sipped at her own tea, her lipstick leaving a perfect stain along the rim. “The Night Market is rather progressive in some way. And in others, it is absolutely abysmal, as I am sure you must know. One of the ways in which it is lacking, is its treatment of anyone that finds pleasure from the bite.”
“The bite?” My eyes ticked outwards, catching sight of a few of the couples sitting at the stone tables.
She looked at me, leveling her golden eyes with amusement. “Dear heart,” she admonished. “I am afraid you may be missing a small piece of this puzzle.”
I watched the couples leaning together, their heads ducked low as they exchanged whispered words. They looked happy. Euphoric, even. And more than a few of them looked drunk. Though I saw no alcohol being served. Just tea. Spicy, heady, cups of tea.
But then I took it in. The few bits that I had ghosted over before. The way that one or more would lean into another, their lips sucking at the expanse of an exposed wrist or neck. The way the blood pooled in collarbones before being licked clean.
[[You’re a vampire, aren’t you]]
[[I knew you were a vampire. I just didn’t want to say anything]]
[[Well I feel a little silly for not seeing this before]]“A cafe?” I asked. It was a bland guess but a safe one. And I had seen plenty of teacups and large carafes placed out with sugar and cream.
Belladonna looked at me, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Yes. I suppose it would look like that.” Leaning forward, she poured a cup of tea and handed it to me. It smelled spicy and intoxicating. The cup warmed with the steam, little cracks of black spiderwebs racing across the porcelain in a beautiful array of wildflowers.
“It’s a sanctuary,” she said simply. “A place where people can come, free of judgement.”
“Free of judgement?”
She sipped at her own tea, her lipstick leaving a perfect stain along the rim. “The Night Market is rather progressive in some way. And in others, it is absolutely abysmal, as I am sure you must know. One of the ways in which it is lacking, is its treatment of anyone that finds pleasure from the bite.”
“The bite?” My eyes ticked outwards, catching sight of a few of the couples sitting at the stone tables.
She looked at me, leveling her golden eyes with amusement. “Dear heart,” she admonished. “I am afraid you may be missing a small piece of this puzzle.”
I watched the couples leaning together, their heads ducked low as they exchanged whispered words. They looked happy. Euphoric, even. And more than a few of them looked drunk. Though I saw no alcohol being served. Just tea. Spicy, heady, cups of tea.
But then I took it in. The few bits that I had ghosted over before. The way that one or more would lean into another, their lips sucking at the expanse of an exposed wrist or neck. The way the blood pooled in collarbones before being licked clean.
[[You’re a vampire, aren’t you]]
[[I knew you were a vampire. I just didn’t want to say anything]]
[[Well I feel a little silly for not seeing this before]]Turning, I looked back at Belladonna. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you.”
She smiled, small pointed fangs flashing like they hadn’t before. “I thought it quite obvious.”
Nervously, I looked around. “So are you here to… to bite me?”
A snort escaped her. One unlike her character. I figured it was what happened when she was truly amused. “No, dear. Not unless that is something you wish to have. I have brought you here because you wished to tag along with me and I did need to do a bit of business.”
The man that had escorted us to our table reappeared, a stack of papers in his hand. He handed them to Belladonna, bowing as he did so. “I think you will find everything is in order, Mistress. The numbers look good this moon.”
“I will be the judge of that.” She waved at him, her eyes already ghosting across the thick stack of parchment in her hands. “Run along. I do not wish to see you again.” When the man disappeared, she sighed. “Relative of mine. A nephew in fact. Not by choice. Incompetent fool.”
[[You have family within the market?]]
[[What do you mean ‘not by choice’]]
[[Family run. That’s sweet]]I felt a small shiver run through me, knowing that the situation I was in could be deemed dangerous. “I know you’re a vampire,” I had figured it out almost immediately. The crimson liquid she often had within her cups was obviously not just wine. “I was unsure if I should say anything.”
She smiled, small pointed fangs flashing like they hadn’t before. “Why is that?”
I shrugged. “I was uncertain if it was polite.” Everyone in the Night Market seemed to accept all walks of life. I didn’t know if it was okay to call attention to the type of being someone was. Belladonna didn’t say anything to the effect either. Only sipped her drink.
Nervously, I looked around. “So are you here to… to bite me?”
A snort escaped her. One unlike her character. I figured it was what happened when she was truly amused. “No, dear. Not unless that is something you wish to have. I have brought you here because you wished to tag along with me and I did need to do a bit of business.”
The man that had escorted us to our table reappeared, a stack of papers in his hand. He handed them to Belladonna, bowing as he did so. “I think you will find everything is in order, Mistress. The numbers look good this moon.”
“I will be the judge of that.” She waved at him, her eyes already ghosting across the thick stack of parchment in her hands. “Run along. I do not wish to see you again.” When the man disappeared, she sighed. “Relative of mine. A nephew in fact. Not by choice. Incompetent fool.”
[[You have family within the market?]]
[[What do you mean ‘not by choice’]]
[[Family run. That’s sweet]]What she was became so painfully obvious that I felt slightly embarrassed for not having seen it before. I supposed that was more reflective on everything I had seen since arriving. Belladonna was not the one that stood out in this world. In fact, I felt more out of place than I figured she would ever look.
“Well, I feel a bit like a fool for not noticing this earlier,” I told her, looking down at the table and drawing lines across the surface.
“I find it rather charming,” she said, amusement ringing through her voice.
Nervously, I looked around. “So are you here to… to bite me?”
A snort escaped her. One unlike her character. I figured it was what happened when she was truly amused. “No, dear. Not unless that is something you wish to have. I have brought you here because you wished to tag along with me and I did need to do a bit of business.”
The man that had escorted us to our table reappeared, a stack of papers in his hand. He handed them to Belladonna, bowing as he did so. “I think you will find everything is in order, Mistress. The numbers look good this moon.”
“I will be the judge of that.” She waved at him, her eyes already ghosting across the thick stack of parchment in her hands. “Run along. I do not wish to see you again.” When the man disappeared, she sighed. “Relative of mine. A nephew in fact. Not by choice. Incompetent fool.”
[[You have family within the market?]]
[[What do you mean ‘not by choice’]]
[[Family run. That’s sweet]]“You have family members within the market?” I ticked my eyes towards the so-called nephew. He looked as if he was sweating as he kept sending furtive glances our way.
“Chosen ones,” she said despondently. “Or given. In my case much more given than anything else.”
“What about your actual family?”
“Dead. I’m assuming.” She set aside the papers, the turn of her lips leaning more towards a scowl. “Well, I can’t say we are any better than last month.” I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad and I doubted she was looking to take the time to explain it to me.
“So what exactly is this place?”
“As I said. A sanctuary. Vampires have a way about them. A compulsion really. Most, look down upon that compulsion. It is too easy to take advantage of someone.” I was observing the way the individuals choosing to get bit went pliant. Their bodies relaxing into a boneless state. “However, the compulsion is beneficial in a way. Keeps the vampires under control. Keeps them from roaming the streets and feeding on the masses.”
[[So is eating controlled through places like this?]]
[[Do vampires not hunt through the streets?]]
[[So you’re not evil then?]]“By choice?” I asked, looking towards the younger man. “What do you mean that he isn’t family by choice?”
“When turned, family is given to you. That way you are not a fledgling in this world, trying to navigate it on your own. Then, as you are older, you are responsible for the younger generation as well. Lucus there, is one of the last ones I was given before I declared I would not be taking on any more pet projects. Not of that caliber at least.” She set aside the papers, the turn of her lips leaning more towards a scowl. “Well, I can’t say we are any better than last month.” I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad and I doubted she was looking to take the time to explain it to me.
“So what exactly is this place?”
“As I said. A sanctuary. Vampires have a way about them. A compulsion really. Most, look down upon that compulsion. It is too easy to take advantage of someone.” I was observing the way the individual’s choosing to get bit went pliant. Their bodies relaxing into a boneless state. “However, the compulsion is beneficial in a way. Keeps the vampires under control. Keeps them from roaming the streets and feeding on the masses.”
[[So is eating controlled through places like this?]]
[[Do vampires not hunt through the streets?]]
[[So you’re not evil then?]]“This place is family run? That’s kind of sweet. Any other relatives that work here?” It was odd to think of Belladonna with a nephew, let along an entire family.
Her expression looked pinched at my question. “No. And believe me, if I could, I would not have him as ‘family’ either. I rather like not having relatives. Less complicated.” She set aside the papers, the turn of her lips leaning more towards a scowl. “Well, I can’t say we are any better than last month.” I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad and I doubted she was looking to take the time to explain it to me.
“So what exactly is this place?”
“As I said. A sanctuary. Vampires have a way about them. A compulsion really. Most, look down upon that compulsion. It is too easy to take advantage of someone.” I was observing the way the individual’s choosing to get bit went pliant. Their bodies relaxing into a boneless state. “However, the compulsion is beneficial in a way. Keeps the vampires under control. Keeps them from roaming the streets and feeding on the masses.”
[[So is eating controlled through places like this?]]
[[Do vampires not hunt through the streets?]]
[[So you’re not evil then?]]
“So you don’t feed on the masses?”
“I don’t need to. Of course, I miss the hunt at times. There is nothing more thrilling than the smell of fear on the wind. But, I find my position and what I do now, far more beneficial. Besides, too many are pumping themselves full of nasty little toxins. Processed foods. Alcohol. It makes the blood bitter.”
“What about other vampires?” I doubted everyone was quite in the position that Belladonna was.
She shrugged. “There are of course still hunting grounds. But within the Night Market proper, it is frowned upon. Killing for your food is not as regulated on the outskirts.”
I shivered a bit at her blasé attitude about it. To know that people like her viewed us as food was something that needed a moment to settle in my mind. Hazel’s healthy fear of her suddenly made a lot more sense.
“So then what does this place accomplish?” I asked. It was obviously a part of the regulation she spoke of.
“It gives control to the people that want to be bitten. They can come here and fulfill their pleasures in safety, while the fledglings with an insatiable appetite, can eat their fill. It is highly monitored so no one takes too much and on the off chance that someone does, we have healers on hand.”
[[Why would someone want to be bitten]]
[[So this is a brothel in a way]]
[[Are there more of these within the Night Market?]]
“Are you trying to tell me that vampires are playing by the rules and not hunting in the streets? That there is like a vampire grocery store for their food?”
She looked at me, her head ticking to the side. “Don’t be naive enough to think that there are not still hunts within the Market. Safety is only an illusion, no matter who you are. But do not think that vampires are the only creatures lurking in the dark. Warm bloods are just as cruel, if not more so, than us cool blooded individuals.”
I shivered a bit at her tone, knowing I had maybe stepped over a line. Hazel’s healthy fear of her was suddenly very real. “I didn’t mean to say it like that,” I told her.
“Which is why you are getting an explanation,” Belladonna said. “Your words are full of more ignorance than anything more. Take this as a teaching moment.”
“So then what does this place accomplish?” I asked, wishing to learn.
“It gives control to the people that want to be bitten. They can come here and fulfill their pleasures in safety, while the fledglings with an insatiable appetite, can eat their fill. It is highly monitored so no one takes too much and on the off chance that someone does, we have healers on hand.”
[[Why would someone want to be bitten]]
[[So this is a brothel in a way]]
[[Are there more of these within the Night Market?]]
“So you’re not evil then,” I blurted. There were probably a million other ways I could have said it, but I was learning, in the face of Belladonna, I wasn’t the most eloquent type.
“It’s funny,” she said, regarding my words carefully as she leaned back in her seat. “You have no memories and yet you have a preconceived notion of what is good and what is evil. Curious.”
I blinked at her, the words she spoke holding weight. It was true. I shouldn’t look at anything in terms of good and bad. Evil and true. But I was. I had. Why?
“I think I need to rewind a bit,” I told her. “Could you tell me instead what this place accomplishes? What purpose it serves?”
“It gives control to the people that want to be bitten. They can come here and fulfill their pleasures in safety, while the fledglings with an insatiable appetite, can eat their fill. It is highly monitored so no one takes too much and on the off chance that someone does, we have healers on hand.”
[[Why would someone want to be bitten]]
[[So this is a brothel in a way]]
[[Are there more of these within the Night Market?]]
I stared at her. “Why would anyone want to be bitten?” While it didn’t look painful, I could see the blood trickling from the wounds.
“Oh,” she cooed. “Sweet thing. You are very young. So very young.”
“I don’t know how old I am really.”
“Something you and I have in common.” Setting her tea aside, she dabbed at her lips. “There’s euphoria in the bite. Something absolutely untouchable. When the fangs touch your skin, the moment before the piercing, you feel nothing but the thrill of anticipation. Then, as a vampire sinks deep inside, and you become unburdened by control, you feel yourself letting go.”
She looked unbelievably pleased as she leaned forward, her hands resting where mine lay upon the table. “Tell me,” she said, tracing her fingers across the back of my hand. “Do you know what it feels like to completely be free? To allow yourself to fall into the abyss, knowing that nothing else matters in that moment. No thought. No action. You, in that one, singular moment, are completely taken care of and loved. Who wouldn’t want to continue to seek that out. Especially here.”
I looked around. No one was protesting. Even the people I watched coming in. Everyone seemed happy. Content.
[[Is it addicting to do?]]
[[Why start such a service?]]
“So in a way, this is a brothel,” I said. Pleasure in exchange for money. Or blood, I supposed. I hadn’t actually seen bits or coin exchanged for any of the drinks being served.
“It is a service. A mutual exchange,” she said. “There’s euphoria in the bite. Something absolutely untouchable. When the fangs touch your skin, the moment before the piercing, you feel nothing but the thrill of anticipation. Then, as a vampire sinks deep inside, and you become unburdened by control, you feel yourself letting go.”
She looked unbelievably pleased as she leaned forward, her hands resting where mine lay upon the table. “Tell me,” she said, tracing her fingers across the back of my hand.” Do you know what it feels like to completely be free? To allow yourself to fall into the abyss, knowing that nothing else matters at that moment. No thought. No action. You, in that one, singular moment, are completely taken care of and loved. Who wouldn’t want to continue to seek that out. Especially here.”
I looked around. No one was protesting. Even the people I watched coming in. Everyone seemed happy. Content.
[[Is it addicting to do?]]
[[Why start such a service?]]
“Are these all over the market?” I asked. I wondered how common a place like this was. If I had passed them without even realizing it.
“None as nice as mine,” she said. I could hear a tone there. One of rivalry. I decided to tuck that away for later. “Mine, is highly regulated,” she continued. “I make sure that each vampire that wishes to partake in our service is clean. Understands the rules.”
“Are there ever slip ups?”
“Only once,” she said. “And then you are no more.”
“Right,” I nodded, understanding her completely.
[[Is it addicting to do?]]
[[Why start such a service?]]
“Is it addicting?” The pleasure upon most of their faces far exceeded ones of standard measure. There was longing in their eyes. The ones who were just walking in, looked eager. Were seeking out someone to help them unwind.
Belladonna tilted her head to the side. “Is alcohol?”
“Yes.” I told her.
She laughed a little at that. “Then yes. It can be. To some it is probably a simple indulgence that they don’t think of until the stress really gets to them. Perhaps it is just something they do socially. But to others, I am sure it is consuming. Like with any other addictive behaviors, dear heart, it depends on the person. There is nothing in the bite that makes you come back for more. But a vampire is not in charge of your mind or the type of behaviors you have.”
[[That makes sense]]
[[It doesn’t seem right]]“Why start such a service?” I asked her. Especially given who she was. Belladonna was already a self-made woman throughout the Night Market. She did not need to do much more.
“I did not like what I saw and it fulfilled a need,” she said simply. “Too often I would have clients coming to me in grief or despair. Looking for a release that could not be safely found. If they could not afford to pay for it with me, or the other courtesans, where were they to go? Because they would find it, dear heart. They would find it in back alleys where a fledgling could take too much. Or a vampire couldn't care less about holding them upon their release. This is not an easy service we provide. Part of what we do is deal with the pain many are trying to escape from.”
My eyes caught on a couple I had seen earlier. The man now had his head in the woman's lap as she carded her fingers softly through his hair, speaking soothingly to him. He looked to be asleep. Or at least relaxed enough to appear so.
“It is more than just the bite,” Belladonna said. “It is about giving up control, so you can finally rest.”
[[Do you drink from people?]]
[[Would you drink from me?]]
[[I don’t know if I understand any of this yet.]]
“That makes sense,” I told her. “Having it controlled like that probably benefits the society more than it would to have vampires sourcing out their own means of food.” I was almost certain that the outskirts, the places where the Velvet Guard did not patrol, were not as careful about who they did or did not hunt.
“It pleases me that you understand, dear heart. People can get cruel over such a thing. Yet, it is no different from the lost souls who come to the Pleasure District in search of sexual release. Or the ones who come to the taverns for a drink. They come here on their own volition. They can leave at any time. There is a good possibility we are a healthier alternative to the taverns or the brothels. We aren’t putting anything but our lips against their body or fangs into their blood.”
[[Do you drink from people?]]
[[Would you drink from me?]]
[[I don’t know if I understand any of this yet.]]
“It doesn’t seem… right.”
“How so?” she asked.
“It feels like an addiction. Like a drug of some sort.”
“And it is thoughts like that that led me to create this. A place where people can come, free of judgement, for something they do to offer themselves pleasure. How is this no different from the lost souls who come to the Pleasure District in search of sexual release? Or the ones who come to the taverns for a drink? They come here on their own volition. They can leave at any time. There is a good possibility we are a healthier alternative to the taverns or the brothels. We aren’t putting anything but our lips against their body or fangs into their blood. The next time you take a drink you think about that.”
[[Do you drink from people?]]
[[I don’t know if I understand any of this yet.]]
“Do you drink from people here?”
She dipped her head, her eyes shining in the light. “No,” she said, her lips forming perfectly around the word “I save my fangs for people much more special than a stranger. Though, I must admit, it is tempting at times. Smelling the euphoria that courses through these walls.”
“But you used to?” I asked.
“I did. When I was younger it was a service I offered. Once opening this place it did not seem polite to charge anymore. Besides, I found it made some of my clients a bit more in love than I wanted them to be. I sell a service, not a relationship. It can get confusing when a bite is involved.”
There was something in her eyes that said she had been through that too many times before. But there was one. One that stood out among the others. Something had made her stop
“Thank you for spending the evening with me,” I told her, calling her attention back to mine. “It was nice to spend a bit more time with you outside of dire situations.”
Belladonna’s smile was beautiful. There was nothing about the woman that was not. But the pleased expression in her eyes was what I enjoyed seeing far more. It was the one that she held now.
Rising from the table, she walked around slowly, dragging her fingers across the stone. “Continue to drink, little muse. Drink your fill before heading home. But could you do me a favor?”
I tilted my head towards her, nodding. Not trusting myself to speak.
“Tonight,” she whispered, “when you are all alone in your bed. Will you think of me, little muse? I very much like the idea that this day is in your thoughts well after I’m gone.”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
Leaning forward, she leaned close to my ear. “So obedient,” she whispered. “I’ll have to reward you for that the next time I see you.”
And with that, she was gone. Gone before I could turn and speak. Gone so quickly that I didn’t even see her go. I was instead left with a steaming mug of tea and the sound of blood rushing through my own ears.
[[Next|Chapter Three B8]]Rolling the words around in my head, I thought about what she said. How I had longed for peace since arriving in the Night Market. A break from the confusion. From the pain. I understood the need for escape intimately.
Lifting my gaze to hers, I swallowed nervously. “Would you bite me?”
She was behind me in a flash, her cool breath ghosting against my neck. Her hands were pressed to my side, her thighs splayed on either side of me. “Do you know what you ask of me, little muse?”
“Yes,” I said. I knew it with more certainty than I thought possible.
“Are you sure? Your first time should be memorable. It should be surrounded in comfort. You should want it so desperately that you are weeping at my feet, willing to do anything just for me to slip my fangs inside you.” Her hands trailed up my sides. “Frankly, darling, I really don’t think you have asked me politely enough for such a gift.”
“Please,” I whispered, the word coming out in a hushed gasp.
“Why?” she breathed against me, a cool chill running up and down my skin.
“I want to feel a moment of peace,” I told her. “I want to slip away like you said. Know oblivion for a moment. I want to know what that feels like.”
Her fangs grazed across my neck, scratching through the first layer of my skin. When her tongue came out to swipe against me, I shivered, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Of course, sweetness. I’ll give you anything you want. You simply have to ask.”
“Please. Please bite me.”
She sighed against me, her smile a soft kiss against my jaw. “Maybe next time,” she said, “I don’t think you want it enough.”
And then she was gone. Not even in the booth with me anymore. Just gone. It left me dumbfounded, panting harshly, feeling my heart thud in my own ears.
[[Next|Chapter Three B8]]
<<set $wantbite to "true">>“I’m afraid I don’t understand any of this,” I told her. It made me uncomfortable in the way that anything new often would. I would have to think on it for a while but I wasn’t sure that was something I could do in the presence of her, or the people lying around me.
“Taking time to think before answering is a skill most do not have,” she said pragmatically, rising from her seat. “Take your time, before returning to Ms. Albright’s. Drink some tea and get warm.”
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Business, dear heart.” She picked up her stack of papers. “Much to attend to.” Smiling, she gestured towards the tea. “On me, of course. I do hope you have an enjoyable evening.”
And with that, she was gone. Gone before I could turn and speak. Gone so quickly that I didn’t even see her go. I was instead left with a steaming mug of tea and the sound of blood rushing through my own ears.
[[Next|Chapter Three B8]]I walked back that night, a few of the people within the sanctuary helping me find the correct alley back towards the three-tiered fountain. I’d be able to get to Hazel’s from there. The thought of navigating that alley alone was unappealing but I didn’t have much of an option, I supposed.
I thought about the events from earlier, sitting next to Belladonna, hearing her sultry voice wash over me in an almost trance. She had that effect on the ones she was around. I didn’t know if it was due to her being a vampire or just something quintessential to Belladonna alone. <<if $wantbite == "true">>The idea of her fangs sinking into me had been all I wanted at that moment. All I could think about. Even now, as I tried to push it aside, I wondered what I could have done differently to have her follow through.
Or maybe she never would have. Maybe it was all a game. Or a part of her persona that she had carefully cultivated and crafted for the rest of the world.<</if>>
Wandering the alley, I took my time, trying to learn the nuances of the streets. Most of the market was laid out in a grid, making oriented myself far easier than I had anticipated. Some alleys were far cleaner than others while the occasional alley looked as if it branched off into smaller pathways meant for creatures not bigger than a mouse. When I bent down to look through one particular hole, I found a bustling little city thriving inside the walls. It at least explained the occasional whisper I heard while walking the streets.
“Another one?”
I heard someone muttering as they rushed past, heading towards the amber lights of the Spice District. I frowned in their direction and thought nothing of it. Until I saw the lanterns swaying and heard the crackling of electricity echoing from beyond. The sound was familiar in a way that I hadn’t remembered it being before now.
[[Next|Chapter Three B9]]
A crowd was forming, bottle necking in the alley. I pushed my way through, trying to see what everyone seemed so keen on looking at.
Then I heard it.
“Another door?”
“It can’t be.”
“That’s the third one this week? We won’t have any room for all of them soon.”
I looked around, blinking at the words that I was hearing. Up ahead, I spotted the familiar form of Milo. He was staring straight ahead at a crack right in the middle of the Spice District, an aquamarine light falling from the arched gate that was forming. Stepping through, several people stared ahead, their eyes flat gems, their heads and shoulders covered in strange bits of rags.
“Milo?” I reached his side, looking at the creatures that were beginning to pour through. They looked tired and scared. No immediate threat was forming but I could hear the booted stomps of the Velvet Guard.
Milo looked at me, his own expression stern. “Go get Hazel.”
“What is happening?”
“Go get Hazel.” He didn’t wait for me to respond as he began to make his way through the crowd. I lost sight of him quickly with the amount of people standing around and gawking. As I watched a woman hoist a small child up on her hips, sheltering the bundle from the peering eyes around her, I didn't hesitate.
Turning, I ran towards Hazel’s, ignoring the ghosts in the alley. Above me, the lanterns continued to sway.
[[Chapter Four]]
<<set $chaptwogate to "true">>I raised an eyebrow. “Do you think the Warden is handsome?” I asked, laughing a little.
“Who doesn’t think the Warden is handsome?” she gushed. “He has perfect everything.”
Warden Caine held himself with perfect posture, his eyes set in such a way that they were striking and his jawline chiseled. He was intimidating to look at and yet held a quality about him that demanded the kind of respect that I could see many finding attractive. Hazel apparently being one of them.
“I think,” she continued. “He will be doing his rounds this morning. He is due to have a pickup again. You could always take it to him,” she said slyly.
“How would I find him within the market?” His rounds, I doubted, would be in the small swaths of land that I already knew.
“Lunch,” she said. “He goes to the same spot each time. It’s a little wrap place near the Spice District. Monique's.” Going behind the counter, Hazel plucked up a small glowing pouch and tossed it to me. I caught it with one hand. “If you hurry, I bet you’ll catch him before he leaves.”
I smiled my thanks at her before grabbing an oversized coat and shoving my arms through it. I was out the door before I could take my next breath.
I smiled at her as I put the order into my pocket. “Thanks, Hazel,” I told her.
She waved at me. “Have fun today!”
[[Next|Chapter Three G1]]
I cleared my throat a bit, trying not to smile. “He is nice to look at,” I told her, not quite meeting her eyes. I tried very hard not to think of the fact that he had locked me in a cage down at the beach. It wasn’t quite a mark for my sanity that I wanted to pretend it to be.
“He’s gorgeous!” Hazel practically yelled. “Oh, you’ll make such a cute couple! Get ‘im!”
My eyes went wide. “Calm down. I’m just admiring him from afar.”
Hazel visibly contained herself, nodding. “Right. Of course. But… I mean, he’s so pretty.” I shook my head at her, looking over at the order basket as a few more scrolls appeared. “I think,” she continued. “He will be doing his rounds this morning. He is due to have a pickup again. You could always take it to him,” she said slyly.
“How would I find him within the market though?” His rounds, I doubted, would be in the small bits that I already knew.
“Lunch,” she said. “He goes to the same spot each time. It’s a little wrap place near the Spice District. Monique's.” Going behind the counter, she plucked up a small glowing pouch and tossed it to me. I caught it with one hand. “If you hurry, I bet you’ll catch him before he leaves.”
I smiled my thanks at her before grabbing an oversized coat and shoving my arms through it. I think I was out the door before I could take my next breath.
I smiled at her as I put the order into my pocket. “Thanks, Hazel,” I told her.
She waved at me. “Have fun today!”
[[Next|Chapter Three G1]]
I looked at her deadpan. “He locked me in a cage.” The man had escorted me down from the cells and turned the cogs of a sand covered cell. Attraction was the last thing on my mind with him.
“Oh,” Hazel shuffled awkwardly. “That’s a really good point, actually. Why would you want to even go find him then?”
I shrugged. “He made it sound the other day like he might have some more information to why I’m here. I thought I could tell him what Belladonna said. Get some information while I get new clothes. And who safer to travel the market with?”
Popping beneath the counter, Hazel began rummaging around. “He will be doing his rounds this morning. He is due to have a pickup again. You could always take it to him.”
“How would I find him within the market though?” His rounds, I doubted, would be in the small bits that I already knew.
“Lunch,” she said. “He goes to the same spot each time. It’s a little wrap place near the Spice District. Monique's.” Going behind the counter, she plucked up a small glowing pouch and tossed it to me. I caught it with one hand. “If you hurry, I bet you’ll catch him before he leaves.”
I smiled my thanks at her before grabbing an oversized coat and shoving my arms through it. I think I was out the door before I could take my next breath.
I smiled at her as I put the order into my pocket. “Thanks, Hazel,” I told her.
She waved at me. “Have fun today!”
[[Next|Chapter Three G1]]
I made my way through the alley as quickly as I could. The spirits had been restless the night before but thankfully seemed to pay me no mind this morning. I hadn’t figured out yet what riled them. Milo had mentioned that they were much more ill at ease the closer to big events that we got, but Hazel had insinuated that there was no rhyme or reason to it. I suspected she just avoided the alley as much as she could.
Keeping my head low, I rushed through the burnt out passageway until I emerged on the other side to the sound of the three-tiered fountain. Quickly, it was becoming my focal point. The place I stood in order to navigate through the rest of the market. The Spice District lay just beyond, it’s amber lights one of the first things I had seen upon arriving within the market. Patting my pocket, I made sure that Gabriel’s delivery was still safe, and made my way to Monique’s.
The district wasn’t as busy as I thought it would be. It had the usual patrons and the vendors all cooking behind large boiling pots and barely contained fires. But it wasn’t the wall to wall busy I had been used to upon arriving. I wondered if the Night Market had off times.
I kept my eyes peeled for ‘Monique’s’, keeping to the first bit of the Spice District. It was not her sign that I saw first, however, but instead, a set of broad shoulders, hidden behind a familiar cloak.
[[Approach Gabriel hesitantly]]
[[Approach him boldly]]
[[Try to sneak up on him]]Taking a deep breath, I made my way to him, stepping out of the way of the stall vendor who was futilely trying to repair a flapping awning. I could hear him cursing under his breath as he tried to tack it back on.
The Warden was nodding towards a woman with long aqua colored hair, placing a few bits of coin on the counter for her as she handed him a wrap. Just as he peeled away the brown paper from his sandwich, I stepped to his side, looking at him hesitantly.
Gabriel cast his gaze towards me, his wrap halfway to his lips. When I didn’t move, he sighed.
“What can I do for you, prisoner 47B?”
[[You can call me by my name, you know]]
[[I’m sorry if I am interrupting your lunch]]
[[I saw you in the market and thought I would say hi]]I wasted no time going up to him, sidestepping the cursing vendor trying to repair his awning. A woman, Monique, I presumed, was handing Gabriel a sandwich wrapped in brown paper. He had placed a few bits of coin down and was nodding to her appreciatively.
“Good afternoon, Warden Caine,” I said, coming to stand by his side.
He paused, his sandwich halfway to his lips, sighing a bit at my presence. “Good afternoon.” He turned to face me fully, the look on his face neutral. “What can I do for you today, Prisoner 47B?”
[[You can call me by my name, you know]]
[[I’m sorry if I am interrupting your lunch]]
[[I saw you in the market and thought I would say hi]]I quickly ducked behind another stall, hidden by the steam from a big soup vat and the awning that the vendor was trying to repair. Sneaking up on a man like The Warden was probably ill-advised but I found myself nearly giddy with the thought. Besides, he had arrested me. It wasn’t as if he didn’t deserve a little payback.
As I edged my way around the stalls, blending as best I could among the crowd, I inched my way closer and closer. I could see the wrap he had in his hand, a few bits of coin being placed on the counter as he peeled away the brown paper containing his meal.
Just as I thought I had him, inching up to him, I saw his shoulders slump in a sigh.
“What can I do for you today, prisoner 47B.”
I stopped. “You saw me?”
“I saw you.”
[[You can call me by my name, you know]]
[[I’m sorry if I am interrupting your lunch]]
[[I saw you in the market and thought I would say hi]]I sat on the stool next to him, despite him continuing to stand. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting your lunch,” I told him. Although, it was exactly what I had set out to do, when I really thought about it.
“It is no matter,” he replied. “But again, is there anything that I can help you with?”
“I have your weekly delivery. From Hazel,” I told him.
Nodding to the vendor, Monique, he bid his goodbyes before turning to me and gesturing for me to walk with him. I slid off my stool and fell in step beside him. He held his wrap in hand, not having taken a bite. He seemed to be contemplating if the food was worth his time and effort when a little girl came zooming by. He stopped her, with a simple halting motion of his hand, before giving her the sandwich.
She looked at him with a toothless grin before continuing on her way. Only this time, munching on the Warden’s lunch happily.
“That was kind of you,” I said.
“It is my duty to be kind.” When he nodded for me to please follow him, I did without preamble. He led me to a more secluded part of the district, a half crumbling wall concealing us from most prying eyes. “My order, if you please.”
I dug it out of my pocket, watching the faint glow from within the bag.
[[What is exactly is this?]]
[[Is this what you came to the shop for last week?]]
[[Give it to him without question]]I sat on the stool next to him, despite him continuing to stand. “I saw you in the market and thought I would come say hi.”
At that, he looked at me curiously. “Why?”
“Do people not just come and say hello to you?”
“Not in general. No.”
The Warden did not strike me as a man who had a lot of friends. Co-workers, sure. But true friends? It didn’t seem likely.
“Oh,” I said, shifting in my seat. “I also have your weekly delivery. From Hazel.”
“That makes more sense,” he responded.
Nodding to the vendor, Monique, he bid his goodbyes before turning to me and gesturing for me to walk with him. I slid off my stool and fell in step beside him. He held his wrap in hand, not having taken a bite. He seemed to be contemplating if the food was worth his time and effort when a little girl came zooming by. He stopped her, with a simple halting motion of his hand, before giving her the sandwich.
She looked at him with a toothless grin before continuing on her way. Only this time, munching on the Warden’s lunch happily.
“That was kind of you,” I said.
“It is my duty to be kind.” When he nodded for me to please follow him, I did without preamble. He led me to a more secluded part of the district, a half crumbling wall concealing us from most prying eyes. “My order, if you please.”
I dug it out of my pocket, watching the faint glow from within the bag.
[[What is exactly is this?]]
[[Is this what you came to the shop for last week?]]
[[Give it to him without question]]I sat on the stool next to him, despite him continuing to stand. “You could call me by my name you know.” It was weird being called prisoner 47B and it wasn’t particularly a time I wished to think of.
“I could,” he agreed. Turning to me, he leveled his gaze. There was not an expression in sight against his smooth features. “What can I do for you?”
“I have your weekly delivery. From Hazel,” I told him.
Nodding to the vendor, Monique, he bid his goodbyes before turning to me and gesturing for me to walk with him. I slid off my stool and fell in step beside him. He held his wrap in hand, not having taken a bite. He seemed to be contemplating if the food was worth his time and effort when a little girl came zooming by. He stopped her, with a simple halting motion of his hand, before giving her the sandwich.
She looked at him with a toothless grin before continuing on her way. Only this time, munching on the Warden’s lunch happily.
“That was kind of you,” I said.
“It is my duty to be kind.” When he nodded for me to please follow him, I did without preamble. He led me to a more secluded part of the district, a half crumbling wall concealing us from most prying eyes. “My order, if you please.”
I dug it out of my pocket, watching the faint glow from within the bag.
[[What is exactly is this?]]
[[Is this what you came to the shop for last week?]]
[[Give it to him without question]]I put it in his hand, noticing how he quickly tucked it away inside his cloak. “Thank you,” he said politely, continuing to walk. I followed him, falling in step by his side.
“What exactly is it?” I asked. I hadn’t even seen Hazel put it together. She had the small pouch ready to go both times. Keeping the contents of it discreet.
“An order,” he told me, not elaborating on it any further. The dark fabric of his coat swallowed the light that emanated from the velvet pouch. “Now, if you please, I do have rounds to do this afternoon.”
He stopped walking, turning to me, his spine straight and his eyes facing forward. It was a clear precursor to a dismissal.
[[Can I come with you?]]
[[Could you escort me to the Fashion District?]]
[[Do you want to go shopping with me?]]I put it in his hand, noticing how he quickly tucked it away inside his cloak. “Thank you,” he said politely, continuing to walk. I followed him, falling in step by his side.
“Is this what you came to the shop for last week?” I asked. He had seemed cagey about it then too. I wondered what exactly it was and what the strange glow was from inside. Both weeks, I had not even seen Hazel put together the order. She simply pulled it from underneath the counter where I knew nothing lay except for some garden tools.
“It was,” he told me, not elaborating on it any further. The dark fabric of his coat swallowed the light that emanated from the velvet pouch. “Now, if you please, I do have rounds to do this afternoon.”
He stopped walking, turning to me, his spine straight and his eyes facing forward. It was a clear precursor to a dismissal.
[[Can I come with you?]]
[[Could you escort me to the Fashion District?]]
[[Do you want to go shopping with me?]]I put it in his hand, noticing how he quickly tucked it away inside his cloak. “Thank you,” he said politely, continuing to walk. I followed him, falling in step by his side.
I didn’t press about the pouch. He had seemed cagey about it when I had last seen Hazel give it to him and even now, he was tucking it away quickly, as if he feared someone would see. I wondered what exactly it was and what the strange glow was from inside. Ultimately, though, it was none of my business.
The dark fabric of his coat swallowed the light that emanated from the velvet pouch. “It was kind of you to bring my order all the way out here,” he told me. “I would not have been able to make my way to Ms. Albright’s until tomorrow. You have saved me the trip.”
“It’s not a problem,” I told him.
He nodded. “Now, is there anything else I can do for you? I have my rounds I must attend.”
[[Can I come with you?]]
[[Could you escort me to the Fashion District?]]
[[Do you want to go shopping with me?]]“Do you mind if I come with you?” I asked. I knew the likelihood of him saying yes was slim, but I had to try.
“Why would you want to do that?” he asked. His tone was flat. I wondered if when he was on duty, if he purposely kept his words as emotionless as possible.
“I need to get to know the Night Market. If I’m going to be here for a time, that is. If you’re on rounds maybe I could get the lay of the land a bit better. I need to go get some new clothes too, so I’ll leave you alone once I’m in the Fashion District.”
At that, I did see a small sneer.
“What?” I asked. “Not a fan of fashion?”
“It is not that. It is the district itself,” he said with a put out sigh. “It is not my favorite.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
“What is so wrong with it?” There was no forthcoming answer to that as we continued to walk. The Warden looking as if he didn’t even hear me. “Look, if I am being completely honest, you said you might know a bit more about me and I got some new information as well. I’d like to be able to discuss it.”
Looking down the long alley before us, he seemed to be weighing a decision instead of answering my question. Then, “I will escort you to the Fashion District.”
Without another word, he turned abruptly, heading down a separate alley.
[[Why do you not like the Fashion District?]]
[[What do your rounds usually consist of?]]
[[You sure you can take the time off to do this]]“If it’s not too much to ask, could you escort me to the Fashion District?” I asked him. It felt like an odd request to ask of a man who had processed me within a cell only a week prior, but the Night Market was nothing but odd. “I need to get to know the Night Market. If I’m going to be here for a time, that is. And Hazel paid me today, so I can get some new clothes. I thought maybe if you were making your way there I could walk with you?”
At that, I did see a small sneer.
“What?” I asked. “Not a fan of fashion?”
“It is not that. It is the district itself,” he said with a put out sigh. “It is not my favorite.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
“What is so wrong with it?” There was no forthcoming answer to that as we continued to walk. The Warden looking as if he didn’t even hear me. “Look, if I am being completely honest, you said you might know a bit more about me and I got some new information as well. I’d like to be able to discuss it.”
Looking down the long alley before us, he seemed to be weighing a decision instead of answering my question. Then, “I will escort you to the Fashion District.”
Without another word, he turned abruptly, heading down a separate alley.
[[Why do you not like the Fashion District?]]
[[What do your rounds usually consist of?]]
[[You sure you can take the time off to do this]]“Do you want to go shopping with me?” I asked without preamble. The worst he could say was no. However, the shocked expression that flickered across his face was worth any embarrassment I might have from asking. He looked startled at my bluntness and took a step back from me.
“Shopping?”
“I need to get to know the Night Market. If I’m going to be here for a time, that is. If you’re on rounds maybe I could get the lay of the land a bit better. I need to go get some new clothes too, so I’ll leave you alone once I’m in the Fashion District.”
At that, I did see a small sneer.
“What?” I asked. “Not a fan of fashion?”
“It is not that. It is the district itself,” he said with a put out sigh. “It is not my favorite.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
“What is so wrong with it?” There was no forthcoming answer to that as we continued to walk. The Warden looking as if he didn’t even hear me. “Look, if I am being completely honest, you said you might know a bit more about me and I got some new information as well. I’d like to be able to discuss it.”
Looking down the long alley before us, he seemed to be weighing a decision instead of answering my question. Then, “I will escort you to the Fashion District.”
Without another word, he turned abruptly, heading down a separate alley.
[[Why do you not like the Fashion District?]]
[[What do your rounds usually consist of?]]
[[You sure you can take the time off to do this]]“So what’s so wrong with the Fashion District?” I asked. I couldn’t tell if there was genuinely something problematic about it or if the man before me just had a burning hatred of it.
“Nothing. The Velvet Guard patrols it quite regularly.”
We walked down through the amber lights and out towards the three-tiered fountain. More than once, I watched as others stepped out of our way. Gabriel made the time to nod towards each of them, his expression a mask of stoicism.
We turned past the fountain and entered a blue alleyway. The lanterns above slowly bled from their golden amber color, changing into a softer light. Up ahead, I saw rainbow fractals bouncing across the stone ground and highlighting the faces of other individuals, coming to and from.
“That face looks more like someone who is ambivalent towards the place,” I told him.
He sighed. “It is simply not a place I find appealing,” he said. “That does not make it unlikable to others.”
“I know,” I said. “But I was asking about you. Not others.”
He didn’t say anything else to that.
[[Next|Chapter Three G 1]]“So what exactly do the rounds of a Warden consist of?” I asked, wanting to start a conversation but not knowing how. Gabriel very much seemed like the kind of person who liked to sit in silence.
We walked down through the amber lights and out towards the three-tiered fountain. More than once, I watched as others stepped out of our way. Gabriel made the time to nod towards each of them, his expression a mask of stoicism.
We turned past the fountain and entered a blue alleyway. The lanterns above slowly bled from their golden amber color, changing into a softer light. Up ahead, I saw rainbow fractals bouncing across the stone ground and highlighting the faces of other individuals, coming to and from.
“Patrolling the market, mainly,” he replied.
“But you are a Warden. Isn’t this kind of the job of others?”
“Why would it be the job of someone else?” He stepped aside as the alley narrowed slightly, a group of people trying to pass us. With a small gesture, he ushered me ahead of him for a moment, making sure to stay close behind me until everyone passed.
“I don’t know. I just always thought people of your position wouldn’t be doing the basic things.”
He nodded. “I suspect many would share that sentiment. But I do not like asking my subordinates to do something that I would not do myself.
[[Next|Chapter Three G 1]]We walked down through the amber lights and out towards the three-tiered fountain. More than once, I watched as others stepped out of our way. Gabriel made the time to nod towards each of them, his expression a mask of stoicism.
“Are you sure you have time to do this, Warden Caine?” I asked. “I don’t mean to take you away from your work.” The oh so important work of locking people up. There was a very small part of me that was happy with taking him away from it all. Ruining his day just a bit if I could.
We turned past the fountain and entered a blue alleyway. The lanterns above slowly bled from their golden amber color, changing into a softer light. Up ahead, I saw rainbow fractals bouncing across the stone ground and highlighting the faces of other individuals, coming to and from.
“I would not offer something I was not capable of doing.”
I frowned at his word choice. It seemed a bit odd. “I am aware of you being capable of escorting me,” I told him. “I simply meant I do not want to take you too far from your work day.”
“I assure you, I have come well adept at changing with the tides when it comes to my work day. I will simply patrol this passageway now, and perhaps the district while you are shopping.” There wasn’t a lot of room left for argument with that. I instead, just followed him.
[[Next|Chapter Three G 1]]<<if $pits == "true">>“How have you been, Warden,” I asked with a tight smile. “Thrown anyone into a pit of decay as of late?” It had been a full week since I had seen him last. I was waiting on his call to come and help him in his office. So far, he had not called in my bail obligations and that was the way I liked it.
“I have,” he said cordially. “Have you gotten your papers?”
I whipped them out of my pocket, having made sure to grab them before I even left. “Do you often walk the market with people you’ve arrested? Is this weird for you?” He had taken my papers and was looking them over.
“I am actually friends with quite a few prisoners. Most find me to be a pleasant man.” He handed my papers back to me. Apparently they had passed the test. Though I thought he may be looking for any excuse to pull me off the streets again. It was clear he did not trust me. And I did not trust him.
“I find that a little hard to believe,” I said.
“That is a shame. Yet, you are the one that has chosen to walk with me today.” I was. I absolutely was. “I was honestly prepared for you to run. I did not expect such an act from someone who did not seem to agree with their incarceration.”
[[I didn't think I had much of a choice]]
[[I'm holding out hope that you can be helpful]]
[[I’m hoping that there is a different side of you]]<<elseif $pits == "false">>“How have you been, Warden? Arrested anyone as of late?” It had been a full week since I had seen him last and despite his offer to help me with my plight, I had mainly kept to Hazel’s, and he had kept to his job. While the man had been the reason I had been thrown in a cage and assigned to the bail block, I knew that he was also going to be the man who could offer me far more insight to my predicament. That being said, I wasn’t about to trust him. Not anytime soon.
“I have,” he said cordially. “Have you gotten your papers?”
I whipped them out of my pocket, having made sure to grab them before I even left. “Do you often walk the market with people you’ve arrested? Is this weird for you?” He had taken my papers and was looking them over.
“I am actually friends with quite a few prisoners. Most find me to be a pleasant man.” He handed my papers back to me. Apparently they had passed the test.
“I find that a little hard to believe,” I said.
“That is a shame. Yet, you are the one that has chosen to walk with me today.” I was. I absolutely was. “Can you tell me why that is? I did not expect such an act from someone who did not seem to agree with their incarceration.”
[[You were just doing your job]]
[[I'm holding out hope that you can be helpful]]
[[I’m hoping that there is a different side of you]]<</if>>I thought back on that day. How I had been. The dripping chill of the cell and the way the sea air had hit me upon leaving the tunnels. That day was a wash of grey for me. Confusing and life altering in such a way that I still don’t think I had fully processed. And through it, had been
Gabriel. An unmovable presence and one that did not give me the greatest impression of the Night Market itself.
“You were just doing your job,” I told him. I didn’t like it, but I did understand it in a way. Everyone had a roll to play and he was just enacting his. “I don’t blame you,” I told him. “Not really.”
There was a brief flash of surprise across his face. One that he struggled to hide. Or maybe he trusted me enough not to.
“I am glad that you see it that way,” he said. “And for the record, I am happy that you are at Ms. Albright’s and have gotten your papers. I did not want to have a repeat of our situation.”
It went without saying that I was too. I couldn’t help but notice too, how he seemed unlikely to press the situation further, and even when he had found me again, had not demanded to see my papers.
“How was your week?” he asked me. “This was your first official week working for Ms. Albright. How did that go?”
[[I’m adjusting just fine]]
[[I’m adjusting but it is taking time to get used to everything]]
[[I don’t think I’m adjusting very well]]<<if $fleshpits == "true">>I thought back on that day. How I had been. The dripping chill of the cell and the way the sea air had hit me upon leaving the tunnels. The feel of the sand beneath my feet as we walked towards the bail block, going past it to the deep pit where the moans rose up to mingle with the waves. That day was a wash of grey for me. Confusing and life altering in such a way that I still don’t think I had fully processed.
For reasons, I had yet to figure out, he had let me go. Bought my bail on his own accord and then sent me to a safe haven. The man that spoke of versus the man that had led me to the pit, did not feel the same.
“I’m hoping that there is a different side of you than what I saw that day,” I told him. It pained me to say it. But, we were here now, and arguing in the streets was not something I wished to do.
“Ah.” There was a furrow between his brows at that, as if he truly did not understand what I was telling him. Yet, something faded from him. A layer of apathy that he wore like armor. He still was stoic and straightforward, but I felt as if he may be listening now. “I know that it may seem as if I am the enemy,” he started. “But I was doing my job that day. That was all.”
“So you’re saying that if you were not the Warden, you wouldn’t have believed I should be tossed into the pits?”
“I am telling you that if I was not the Warden, things would have gone differently.”
I didn’t know if I believed him. “But you still condone the flesh trade?”
“Some people do not deserve to live.”
We passed a group of people in a small off section of the alley. They were gathered around a floating tea table, drinking from dandelion cups. When they spied the Warden, the table dropped. The magic dissipating. The Warden only nodded at them as we continued on our way.
“How are you adjusting to the market?” he asked curiously.
“Do you care?”
“I would not ask if I did not.” <<elseif $fleshpits == "false">>I thought back on that day. How I had been. The dripping chill of the cell and the way the sea air had hit me upon leaving the tunnels. That day was a wash of grey for me. Confusing and life altering in such a way that I still don’t think I had fully processed. And through it, had been Gabriel. An unmovable presence and one that did not give me the greatest impression of the Night Market itself.
“I’m hoping that there is a different side of you than what I saw that day,” I told him. “And honestly, I don’t know a lot of people within the Night Market and while our previous conversation is not one that I look on fondly, I am willing to give it another shot.”
“Give what another shot?” he asked.
“A conversation.”
“Ah.” There was a furrow between his brows at that, as if he truly did not understand what I was telling him. Yet, something faded from him. A layer of apathy that he wore like armor. He still was stoic and straightforward, but I felt as if he may be listening now.
“My week was… long,” he stated.
It was such a small statement but it was a start. “How so?”
“There was a small problem with a group of ferrets.”
I frowned, opening my mouth to respond and quickly closing it again as I thought about his words. “Wait,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “Sentient ferret people or animals?” Were there sentient ferret people in the Night Market?
“Animals,” he told me. “The ferret people do not prefer to be called thus, and they are generally peaceful creatures.”
I stared at him. Long and hard. “You're fucking with me aren’t you.”
A small smile appeared across his lips.
“So you do have a sense of humor?” I grinned. He gave no answer to that, but his steps slowed and he looked far more at ease than he had before. He even tucked a hand within his clock, his spine curving a little as he edged his way out of the guise of the Warden.
“How was your week?” he asked me. “This was your first official week working for Ms. Albright. How did that go?”<</if>>
[[I’m adjusting just fine]]
[[I’m adjusting but it is taking time to get used to everything]]
[[I don’t think I’m adjusting very well]]<<if $pits == "true">>I thought back on that day. How I had been. The dripping chill of the cell and the way the sea air had hit me upon leaving the tunnels. The feel of the sand beneath my feet as we walked towards the bail block, going past it to the deep pit where the moans rose up to mingle with the waves. That day was a wash of grey for me. Confusing and life altering in such a way that I still don’t think I had fully processed.
But there was one fact that still remained. One that I would be naive to toss aside. This man was the Warden of the market. He had the ability to help me. More connections perhaps than Belladonna. And if I isolated him, shoved him away, he had the potential for making my life here very miserable.
Sighing, I offered a breadcrumb, hoping that we could change the tone for the time being. “I’m hoping that given your position in the market, you can actually be helpful. You're the Warden. You have the ability to find things out that maybe I can’t.”
He was quiet and for one prolonged moment, I thought he would not answer. I supposed that wasn’t something a Warden ever thought about. A prisoner was a prisoner. Personal feelings rarely mattered during the job.
“I have been looking into your case here in the Night Market. I am willing to admit that perhaps you were not lying like I originally thought you were.”
I refrained from stating the obvious, that anyone with a heart could have seen that I was not lying. But I did not know this man or what he saw on a daily basis. Nor the lies he was told.
We passed a group of people in a small off section of the alley. They were gathered around a floating tea table, drinking from dandelion cups. When they spied the Warden, the table dropped. The magic dissipating. The Warden only nodded at them as we continued on our way.
“How are you adjusting to the market?” he asked curiously. <<elseif $pits == "false">>I thought back on that day. How I had been. The dripping chill of the cell and the way the sea air had hit me upon leaving the tunnels. That day was a wash of grey for me. Confusing and life altering in such a way that I still don’t think I had fully processed. And through it, had been
Gabriel. An unmovable presence and one that did not give me the greatest impression of the Night Market itself.
“I’m hoping that given your position in the market, you can actually be helpful. You're the Warden. You have the ability to find things out that maybe I can’t.”
He was quiet and for one prolonged moment, I thought he would not answer. I supposed that wasn’t something a Warden ever thought about. A prisoner was a prisoner. Your personal feelings rarely mattered during the job.
“I have been looking into your case here in the Night Market. I am willing to admit that perhaps you were not lying like I originally thought you were.”
I refrained from stating the obvious, that anyone with a heart could have seen that I was not lying. But I did not know this man or what he saw on a daily basis. Nor the lies he was told.
“How was your week?” he asked me. “This was your first official week working for Ms. Albright. How did that go?”<</if>>
[[I’m adjusting just fine]]
[[I’m adjusting but it is taking time to get used to everything]]
[[I don’t think I’m adjusting very well]]<<if $pits == "true">>The lanterns up ahead had bled into a deep, midnight blue, the lights themselves growing so large that they no longer stretched the width of the alley, but instead, hung like pendants above. Looking up, I could see small hand mirrors attached to the bottoms of them. They spun in slow, meandering circles, bouncing the light across everyone in deep fractals of navy and silver.
There was a part of me that didn't wish to answer him. That wanted to dig my heels in. But I still found myself answering. Talking to a man who had wanted me dead.<<elseif $pits == "false">>“I like the job,” I said. There was a certain amount of luck that I knew I had on my side when I landed a job at Hazel’s. It was the perfect place for rest and recovery while still giving me purpose to keep my thoughts from wandering too far. “It’s menial, but I do enjoy it.”
“How are you adjusting to your life here?” The lanterns up ahead had bled into a deep, midnight blue, the lights themselves growing so large that they no longer stretched the width of the alley, but instead, hung like pendants above. Looking up, I could see small hand mirrors attached to the bottoms of them. They spun in slow, meandering circles, bouncing the light across everyone in deep fractals of navy and silver.<</if>>
“I think I’m adjusting fine,” I told him. “I’ve been mainly keeping busy with helping Hazel. There isn’t much else I can do.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes. “I am trying to not fixate,” I said softly.
“Fixation on the task at hand is not something to be ashamed of,” he said.
“No. I know. But I don’t want to lose myself to finding a way home. Or who I am. It’s still as important as it ever was but… life has to continue.”
He didn’t look as if he fully agreed with me, but said nothing in return. Instead, he nodded his head at a pair of shoppers, loaded down with bags, pulling a wagon behind them.
“Has any more people like me come through?” I had thought about that a lot recently. Curious how often an anomaly such as myself slipped through the cracks.
“No,” he said. “Though there has been a frequency of doors opening that have been concerning.”
“How so?”
“They are new doors. In general, the Velvet Guard has a good idea of where doors are. Where the gates are located. The ones that have opened as of late have all been new to the area. It does happen but the frequency of which is concerning.”
[[Why is it concerning?]]
[[If Gates are opening, doesn’t that mean the Gatekeeper is letting them through]]
[[Do they have anything similar to my appearance here?]]<<if $pits == "true">>The lanterns up ahead had bled into a deep, midnight blue, the lights themselves growing so large that they no longer stretched the width of the alley, but instead, hung like pendants above. Looking up, I could see small hand mirrors attached to the bottoms of them. They spun in slow, meandering circles, bouncing the light across everyone in deep fractals of navy and silver.
There was a part of me that didn't wish to answer him. That wanted to dig my heels in. But I still found myself answering. Talking to a man who had wanted me dead. <<elseif $pits == "false">>“I like the job,” I said. There was a certain amount of luck that I knew I had on my side when I landed a job at Hazel’s. It was the perfect place for rest and recovery while still giving me purpose to keep my thoughts from wandering too far. “It’s menial, but I do enjoy it.”
“How are you adjusting to your life here?” The lanterns up ahead had bled into a deep, midnight blue, the lights themselves growing so large that they no longer stretched the width of the alley, but instead hung like pendants above. Looking up, I could see small hand mirrors attached to the bottoms of them. They spun in slow, meandering circles, bouncing the light across individuals in deep fractals of navy and silver.<</if>>
“It’s been a struggle,” I told him hesitantly. I didn’t want to complain and I don’t know if I could ever tell Hazel, but it was still a day to day internal fight. I wanted to do okay, but every once in a while, it would hit. This was not my world. This was not supposed to be my life. “Sometimes I feel as if I can do something more. Other times I think I’m doing all I can.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes. “I am trying to not fixate,” I said softly.
“Fixation on the task at hand is not something to be ashamed of,” he said.
“No. I know. But I don’t want to lose myself to finding a way home. Or who I am. It’s still as important as it ever was but… life has to continue.”
He didn’t look as if he fully agreed with me, but said nothing in return. Instead, he nodded his head at a pair of shoppers, loaded down with bags, pulling a wagon behind them.
“Has any more people like me come through?” I had thought about that a lot recently. Curious how often an anomaly such as myself slipped through the cracks.
“No,” he said. “Though there has been a frequency of doors opening that have been concerning.”
“How so?”
“They are new doors. In general, the Velvet Guard has a good idea of where doors are. Where the gates are located. The ones that have opened as of late have all been new to the area. It does happen but the frequency of which is concerning.”
[[Why is it concerning?]]
[[If Gates are opening, doesn’t that mean the Gatekeeper is letting them through]]
[[Do they have anything similar to my appearance here?]]<<if $pits == "true">><<elseif $pits == "false">>“I like the job,” I said. There was a certain amount of luck that I knew I had on my side when I landed a job at Hazel’s. It was the perfect place for rest and recovery, but there was a part of me that resented it for that. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to go out on my own and discover whatever had brought me here. “But it’s not enough. It doesn’t keep me from thinking about all the other things I should be doing. The people I should be trying to find. The memories that I need to recover.”<</if>>
The lanterns up ahead had bled into a deep, midnight blue, the lights themselves growing so large that they no longer stretched the width of the alley, but instead, hung like pendants above. Looking up, I could see small hand mirrors attached to the bottoms of them. They spun in slow, meandering circles, bouncing the light across everyone in deep fractals of navy and silver.
“It’s hard not to fixate on what needs to be done,” I admitted softly.
“Fixation on the task at hand is not something to be ashamed of,” he said.
“Eventually, life has to continue,” I said. “But I’m afraid if I give into that, then I’ll forget who I was. Even more so than I already have.”
He didn’t look as if he fully agreed with me, but said nothing in return. Instead, he nodded his head at a pair of shoppers, loaded down with bags, pulling a wagon behind them.
“Has any more people like me come through?” I had thought about that a lot recently. Curious how often an anomaly such as myself slipped through the cracks.
“No,” he said. “Though there has been a frequency of doors opening that have been concerning.”
“How so?”
“They are new doors. In general, the Velvet Guard has a good idea of where doors are. Where the gates are located. The ones that have opened as of late have all been new to the area. It does happen but the frequency of which is concerning.”
[[Why is it concerning?]]
[[If Gates are opening, doesn’t that mean the Gatekeeper is letting them through]]
[[Do they have anything similar to my appearance here?]]“Not that I don’t agree with you about it being concerning,” I started. “But can you explain to me why you think it is?” I knew I had my own reasons. Most of them being I hoped there were no other unfortunate souls that was put in the same predicament that I was. But I wondered if this had a broader connotation that I was yet to be aware of.
Gabriel sighed, the sound of his sword clanking against his hip. “You really need not concern yourself with this,” he said.
“If it has to do with the gates, I want to know,” I told him. “It could offer a clue to who I am and why I am here.”
“It is doubtful.”
Stopping, I looked at him, nearly reaching out to stop him but thinking better of it. “Warden,” I said, gaining his attention. “Please. I am just trying to understand.”
He stared at me evenly as we stood in the middle of the alley. People moved around us but I refused to break eye contact with him. When he finally did start walking again, it was with a small glance over his shoulder, asking me silently to please follow.
“The Night Market is becoming overpopulated,” he said. “There is a fear that we will not be able to accommodate the amount of doors that are opening.”
“But I thought most were tourists? Shoppers?”
“Yes. But that is still resources. There is still an influx of foot traffic. We still need to be concerned about disobedience from the masses. The Velvet Guard is strong but we cannot be everywhere at once.”
“So what is the solution,” I asked.
“Thus far, we have none. We cannot control where and when the doors are opening. Nor do we know how many are going to slip through each time. It has been a headache, to say the least.”
[[Next|Chapter Three G3]]
“Doesn’t that mean the Gatekeeper is active? If the doors are opening with that frequency then someone has to be doing it.”
“You know about the Gatekeeper?” he asked.
“A bit,” I told him. “Does this mean they are active?”
“It is a theory. Yes.”
A theory. Not something he outwardly was going to confirm. I had little doubt that Gabriel hadn’t spent hours thinking upon the same queries I was now mentioning. The opening and closing of gates seemed like it was a problem for the Night Market as a whole. For the captain of the Velvet Guard, I’m sure it was more than just an annoyance though. “What do you think then?”
He sighed a bit. “You really should not be concerning yourself with any of this.”
“And yet, I am concerned.” No one was talking about the gates. In fact, the few times I had brought them up in the last week, both Hazel and Milo had gone quiet. I was desperate for someone to at least entertain my questions.
“I am sure it is nothing.”
“Warden, please,” I said, looking at him hopefully. “These doors concern me. They are the reason I am here. Perhaps if I could understand them better, I may have a way back home.”
Gabriel did not look swayed by my plight. Nor did his steps falter. But when he spoke again, it was with an even tone. One filled with more understanding than I had previously come to expect from him. “I believe that the Gatekeeper is alive,” he said. “The gates are far too active for them not to be. From what I have been able to discern, the gates derive their magic from the individual. So, if there was no Gatekeeper, I do not know where the gates would even be coming from.”
[[Next|Chapter Three G3]]
“The gates that are opening, is there anything similar to those events and the ones that led me here?”
Gabriel tilted his head to the side. “I honestly have not looked.”
“Is there a way you could?” I asked hopefully. “I mean, if something happened that correlates to my own gate, then maybe I would have a better chance at tracking down my door.”
There was a look of contemplation on Gabriel’s face at that and I could see him filing through the layers of information he already had. Granted, I knew nothing about how the gates worked and only had the knowledge of what I had been told, but if Gabriel, or someone else, could start mapping similarities, it at least gave me a lead to run with.
“I will look into this further,” he said.
My eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Yes. It is an interesting angle and while I cannot guarantee results, I would be remiss not to take a closer look at what you suggest.”
<<if $pits == "true">>It was unexpected. The immediate sense of gratitude that washed over me was one that I shoved away. Though I couldn't deny the weight it lifted from my shoulders.<<elseif $pits == "false">>I could have hugged him. I felt the gratitude settle over me in waves and nearly sighed in relief. To simply have someone willing to entertain my thoughts felt like a weight was being lifted. Now, more than ever, I was glad I had sought him out today. There was a possibility I could at least end this day with more answers.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Three G3]]
“Are the gates able to open on their own?” I asked eagerly. Now that we were talking I found myself desperate to find out whatever I could. Belladonna had said to lie low but I did not think it extended to simply gathering information from a man who was clearly not the perpetrator that had brought me here.
“Yes. But they do need a power source to do so. As long as they have that, they can open on their own volition.”
“So is it possible the Gatekeeper is alive, but unaware they are the Gatekeeper?” It seemed as if their search for the decade lost Baron was one that may be hiding right beneath their nose. If they truly didn’t know their own role, then it would be easy to miss them.
The Warden looked at me upon my casual drop of the Gatekeeper. I was beginning to think it was not a topic of conversation that was taken lightly in the market. “I thought that at first, yes. However, it seems unlikely the more the years go by. That kind of power is not a power that would go unnoticed for this long. It is my belief that the Gatekeeper does know who they are, but they are unable to control the gates.”
“Why not come forward for help then?”
“I do not know. Perhaps for safety. The Gatekeeper is technically a Baron. A position of great power and privilege. But it is one that is often times put in peril.”
“Why?” The Barons were still such an enigma to me. Nine Barons of illusive nature, meant to control the entirety of the realm. It seemed ridiculous.
“Barons are the only ones within the Night Market with sanctioned magic. A rule that is old and nearly unbreakable at this point. For many, I am sure the allure of ungovernable magic is desired. The only way to become a Baron, however, is through the death of another Baron.”
My gaze snapped towards him in shock. “That’s a horrible rule.”
“It is,” he agreed. “Yet like many things within the Night Market, it is set in stone. I am unsure why or how but the market itself seems to have a series of rules that they have put in place that are unchangeable, even by the Barons own demands.”
[[Does that mean the Night Market is sentient?]]
[[Does that mean there is someone in power above the Barons]]
[[Has anyone ever tried to change the rules]]Ahead, I could see a long tunnel, the light emitting from it blindingly bright. Laughter rang from its depths along with screeches of playful glee. I looked at Gabriel though, more interested in the information he seemed so willing to give me now that I was not a prisoner within his cells.
“The way you speak it sounds as if the Night Market is sentient,” I said.
“It is believed so. Yes.”
“Wait. Really?” I looked around. I’m not sure why. It wasn’t as if the walls would suddenly start to breathe or talk.
“It is unexplainable how some magic comes to be. No one here is responsible for it and yet, the Night Market provides,” he shrugged. “It is one of those things I try not to think upon too frequently. It has driven many before me absolutely mad.”
[[That explains so much about you]]
[[You can’t actually believe that]]
[[I suppose you’re right. What are we without rules]]“Has anyone ever tried to change the rules?”
“I am unsure. Perhaps. It is not my job to question it though. It is only my job to make sure that the rules that are in place continue to be followed.” It sounded very much like the company line and made me fidget a bit. Blind faith. That’s what Gabriel had.
“But what if you do not believe in them?”
“Why would I not believe in the rules?”
<<if $pits == "false">>“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Sometimes rules are wrong and have to be revised.”
He shook his head. Resolute. “Rules are created to be followed. It is not our job to question them. It is only our job to make sure that we are contributing members to society so we can continue to function.”<<elseif $pits == "true">>Given the things we had already gone through, I didn't even know why I had asked the question. Rules were far more important to the Warden than anything else. Especially morality.
"Rules are created to be followed," he continued. "It is not our job to question them. It is only our job to make sure that we are contributing members to society so we can continue to function.”<</if>>
[[That explains so much about you]]
[[You can’t actually believe that]]
[[I suppose you’re right. What are we without rules]]“Is there someone in power above the Barons?” I asked. The alleyway was narrowing, the walls edging closer to us, forcing our shoulders to brush. “There has to be someone or something that keeps them in check.”
“They keep each other in check.”
“But, couldn’t that lead to something dangerous? What if they all agreed on something that was detrimental to the market as a whole?” Nine seemed like it would be difficult to come to a unanimous decision but the idea that they were completely free to do what they wished felt dangerous.
“They have certain rules that they follow. I assure you. That is enough.”
“Rules can be broken,” I told him.
He shook his head. Resolute. “Rules are created to be followed. It is not our job to question them. It is only our job to make sure that we are contributing members to society so we can continue to function.”
[[That explains so much about you]]
[[You can’t actually believe that]]
[[I suppose you’re right. What are we without rules]]There was a part of me that hoped he was joking. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye with a sort of unease. He couldn’t actually believe that, right? Of course rules were made so that society did not fall into utter chaos but not every rule that had ever been exacted had been one that was followed until the end of days. They changed. They became better or shifted or even broke depending on what was needed. Yet, Gabriel acted as if they were set in gold.
“That explains so much about you,” I finally spoke.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you, blindly following orders, probably makes you the best Warden for the Velvet Guard.” I didn’t necessarily mean it as a compliment.
His eyes narrowed at that, his lips thinning. “Rules are rules,” he intoned sharply. “Questioning them leads to behavior that can upset the delicate balance we have thus far achieved. As a member of the Night Market, I implore you to meditate upon that and approach it with understanding.”
“I’m not a Night Market member. I was not born here. Nor were a lot of these people, from what I understand. I may not remember who I am, but everyone came from their own cultures. With their own set of rules that may directly oppose the rules that are here.”
He sighed patiently. “Which is why the rules that are here are meant to accommodate many different walks of life.”
[[It was clear he was not going to get it]]
[[And what about the walks of life it does not accommodate]]
[[So you have never, not once, thought one of the rules went too far?]]
There was a part of me that hoped he was joking. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye with a sort of unease. He couldn’t actually believe that, right? Of course rules were made so that society did not fall into utter chaos but not every rule that had ever been exacted had been one that was followed until the end of days. They changed. They became better or shifted or even broke depending on what was needed. Yet, Gabriel acted as if they were set in gold.
“You can’t actually believe that?” I finally spoke. “You have to know that sometimes rules are made without the betterment of the people in mind.”
He looked at me sharply. “I do not know that. And I certainly do not like to hear such a thing from one of our Night Market members.”
“I’m not a Night Market member. I was not born here. Nor were a lot of these people, from what I understand. I may not remember who I am, but everyone came from their own cultures. With their own set of rules that may directly oppose the rules that are here.”
He sighed patiently. “Which is why the rules that are here are meant to accommodate many different walks of life.”
[[It was clear he was not going to get it]]
[[And what about the walks of life it does not accommodate]]
[[So you have never, not once, thought one of the rules went too far?]]
I was looking at him out of the corner of my eye, thinking upon his words. Of course rules were made so that society did not fall into utter chaos. Sometimes, those rules were questionable. But, there needed to be a certain amount of trust in those who were making them or else society would crumble. It was with a heavy sigh that I understood where Gabriel was coming from. And even, in a way, agreed with him.
“I suppose you’re right,” I told him. “Rules are what keeps us going.”
He nodded. “A society without rules, or with rules that are constantly questioned, will collapse,” he said.
It felt so finite, and yet, Gabriel looked utterly pleased that I seemed to understand him.
[[Next|Chapter Three G5]]
The alleyway ended before us. Fragments of reflective light began bouncing around, creating a bright section of walkway before us. With each growing step Gabriel’s expression became more pained.
“You really don’t have to take me the rest of the way if you don’t wish,” I told him.
Gabriel looked as if he were going to take me up on that and flat out run, he despised what was ahead so much. But ever the gentlemen he was, he shook his head. “I said I would be escorting you, so I will keep my word and continue to escort you.”
The alley opened. A wide mirrored tunnel stretched before us, its walls turning with each step we took. I blinked, trying to keep myself steady as suddenly my surroundings became an infinity loop of my own reflection. The floors, ceiling and side walls, all one long stretch of glass, shining brightly around us. Gabriel’s eyes shone silver in the reflection, a deep contrast to the dull grey that I saw when looking directly at him. I ended up shielding my eyes as we continued to make our way through, bumping into more than a few people.
When we emerged, it was with a sigh of relief. The onslaught of the tunnel had been too much. I didn’t know how anyone made it through there without losing their lunch. When I blinked, however, the sight before me was far different. Long strips of mirrored walkways stretched out across the district, scattered in different tiers up and down a forest of tall and thick tress, all of which had antique glass hanging from their boughs. The runways were lined with stalls, their tables heavy with fabric and different displays of clothes pinned to silken awnings. Above me, a platform floated, dancing couples dipping and twirling above in a display of fashion. Peering closer, it was clear that the clothes were being held up by magic alone. The expected bodies one would think would be encased inside, nothing but air. I watched in fascination as they waltzed on their own accord across the shiny surface, advertising the latest trends.
Looking at Gabriel, I could see his expression was pinched as his eyes gazed around, looking for some sort of threat.
[[I couldn’t agree with his expression more. This was a little much]]
[[I disagreed with his expression. This looked absolutely stunning]]
[[I was curious as to what else the district had to offer]]
I said nothing further to it. It was clear that he was not going to get it and I doubted I was the first to try and making him see reason. While it was sad that he was so set in his ways, it did make me wonder why he was this way. If something had happened to engrain this belief so thoroughly or if he had never challenged his own thoughts.
The alleyway ended before us. Fragments of reflective light began bouncing around, creating a bright section of walkway before us. With each growing step Gabriel’s expression became more pained.
<<if $pits == "false">>“You really don’t have to take me the rest of the way if you don’t wish,” I told him.
Gabriel looked as if he were going to take me up on that and flat out run, he despised what was ahead so much. But ever the gentlemen he was, he shook his head. “I said I would be escorting you, so I will keep my word and continue to escort you.”<</if>>
The alley opened. A wide mirrored tunnel stretched before us, its walls turning with each step we took. I blinked, trying to keep myself steady as suddenly my surroundings became an infinity loop of my own reflection. The floors, ceiling and side walls, all one long stretch of glass, shining brightly around us. Gabriel’s eyes shone silver in the reflection, a deep contrast to the dull grey that I saw when looking directly at him. I ended up shielding my eyes as we continued to make our way through, bumping into more than a few people.
When we emerged, it was with a sigh of relief. The onslaught of the tunnel had been too much. I didn’t know how anyone made it through there without losing their lunch. When I blinked, however, the sight before me was far different. Long strips of mirrored walkways stretched out across the district, scattered in different tiers up and down a forest of tall and thick tress, all of which had antique glass hanging from their boughs. The runways were lined with stalls, their tables heavy with fabric and different displays of clothes pinned to silken awnings. Above me, a platform floated, dancing couples dipping and twirling above in a display of fashion. Peering closer, it was clear that the clothes were being held up by magic alone. The expected bodies one would think would be encased inside, nothing but air. I watched in fascination as they waltzed on their own accord across the shiny surface, advertising the latest trends.
Looking at Gabriel, I could see his expression was pinched as his eyes gazed around, looking for some sort of threat.
[[I couldn’t agree with his expression more. This was a little much]]
[[I disagreed with his expression. This looked absolutely stunning]]
[[I was curious as to what else the district had to offer]]
“And the people it doesn’t accommodate?” I challenged. The rules that he spoke so highly of could not possibly encompass everyone. “What about them?”
“We do the best we can to consider everyone,” he said sharply. There was something beneath his tone though. A story that I was not privy to yet. It was encouraging to at least see the emotion that brewed there. Perhaps all was not lost with Gabriel Caine, the workaholic warden.
The alleyway ended before us. Fragments of reflective light began bouncing around, creating a bright section of walkway before us. With each growing step Gabriel’s expression became more pained.
<<if $pits == "false">>“You really don’t have to take me the rest of the way if you don’t wish,” I told him.
Gabriel looked as if he were going to take me up on that and flat out run, he despised what was ahead so much. But ever the gentlemen he was, he shook his head. “I said I would be escorting you, so I will keep my word and continue to escort you.”<</if>>
The alley opened. A wide mirrored tunnel stretched before us, its walls turning with each step we took. I blinked, trying to keep myself steady as suddenly my surroundings became an infinity loop of my own reflection. The floors, ceiling and side walls, all one long stretch of glass, shining brightly around us. Gabriel’s eyes shone silver in the reflection, a deep contrast to the dull grey that I saw when looking directly at him. I ended up shielding my eyes as we continued to make our way through, bumping into more than a few people.
When we emerged, it was with a sigh of relief. The onslaught of the tunnel had been too much. I didn’t know how anyone made it through there without losing their lunch. When I blinked, however, the sight before me was far different. Long strips of mirrored walkways stretched out across the district, scattered in different tiers up and down a forest of tall and thick tress, all of which had antique glass hanging from their boughs. The runways were lined with stalls, their tables heavy with fabric and different displays of clothes pinned to silken awnings. Above me, a platform floated, dancing couples dipping and twirling above in a display of fashion. Peering closer, it was clear that the clothes were being held up by magic alone. The expected bodies one would think would be encased inside, nothing but air. I watched in fascination as they waltzed on their own accord across the shiny surface, advertising the latest trends.
Looking at Gabriel, I could see his expression was pinched as his eyes gazed around, looking for some sort of threat.
[[I couldn’t agree with his expression more. This was a little much]]
[[I disagreed with his expression. This looked absolutely stunning]]
[[I was curious as to what else the district had to offer]]
“You never once questioned it then? There was never a rule that popped up that you looked at and decided that it had gone too far?”
“Of course not,” he said sharply. There was something beneath his tone though. A story that I was not privy to yet. It was encouraging to at least see the emotion that brewed there. Perhaps all was not lost with Gabriel Caine, the workaholic warden.
The alleyway ended before us. Fragments of reflective light began bouncing around, creating a bright section of walkway before us. With each growing step Gabriel’s expression became more pained.
\ <<if $pits == "false">>“You really don’t have to take me the rest of the way if you don’t wish,” I told him.
Gabriel looked as if he were going to take me up on that and flat out run, he despised what was ahead so much. But ever the gentlemen he was, he shook his head. “I said I would be escorting you, so I will keep my word and continue to escort you.”<</if>>
The alley opened. A wide mirrored tunnel stretched before us, its walls turning with each step we took. I blinked, trying to keep myself steady as suddenly my surroundings became an infinity loop of my own reflection. The floors, ceiling and side walls, all one long stretch of glass, shining brightly around us. Gabriel’s eyes shone silver in the reflection, a deep contrast to the dull grey that I saw when looking directly at him. I ended up shielding my eyes as we continued to make our way through, bumping into more than a few people.
When we emerged, it was with a sigh of relief. The onslaught of the tunnel had been too much. I didn’t know how anyone made it through there without losing their lunch. When I blinked, however, the sight before me was far different. Long strips of mirrored walkways stretched out across the district, scattered in different tiers up and down a forest of tall and thick tress, all of which had antique glass hanging from their boughs. The runways were lined with stalls, their tables heavy with fabric and different displays of clothes pinned to silken awnings. Above me, a platform floated, dancing couples dipping and twirling above in a display of fashion. Peering closer, it was clear that the clothes were being held up by magic alone. The expected bodies one would think would be encased inside, nothing but air. I watched in fascination as they waltzed on their own accord across the shiny surface, advertising the latest trends.
Looking at Gabriel, I could see his expression was pinched as his eyes gazed around, looking for some sort of threat.
[[I couldn’t agree with his expression more. This was a little much]]
[[I disagreed with his expression. This looked absolutely stunning]]
[[I was curious as to what else the district had to offer]]
“So this is the Fashion District, huh?” I let my gaze take in as much as I could. Different reams of multicolored fabric were sewn together with fingers quicker than my eyes could follow. While buttons were set out to dry, shiny with new enamel and encrusted with gems. Overall, the district felt a bit overwhelming and I suddenly understood Gabriel's initial aprehension.
“This is the Fashion District,” Gabriel said with a sigh. “What exactly are you looking for here?”
I stared down at my own clothes. They were slightly dirty from the orders Hazel and I had put together. I was tempted to answer that anything clean would do. But instead, I tugged at the coin pouch that Hazel had given me. “Whatever this can buy?” I said, holding it up.
He glanced at it. Then at me. “You have not learned the currency?”
“No.”
It was with another put out sigh that he gestured me forward. “Come along then. It looks as if my services will still be needed.”
We walked down a reflective glass staircase two levels. The lights here were less bright, the floor less shiny. While the clothing here was not as bright and patterned as the ones above, I assumed this was more of the range I could afford. They were clean, though. And they looked as if they were at least a bit more tailored than what I was wearing now.
Gabriel sighed. A sound I was now coming to know rather well. “Anything in this section will be fine,” he said. “You shouldn’t go over budget here.”
I nodded, looking around at the array of clothing presented to me.
"I guess I'll start with bottoms," I said to myself.
[[I preferred pants|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[I preferred skirts|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "skirt"]]
[[I liked the idea of having both|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]“So this is the Fashion District, huh?” I let my gaze take in as much as I could. Different reams of multicolored fabric were sewn together with fingers quicker than my eyes could follow. While buttons were set out to dry, shiny with new enamel and encrusted with gems. The district itself was stunning. I knew I could spend hours in it and still not set my eyes on all it had to offer.
“This is the Fashion District,” Gabriel said with a sigh. “What exactly are you looking for here?”
I stared down at my own clothes. They were slightly dirty from the orders Hazel and I had put together. I was tempted to answer that anything clean would do. But instead, I tugged at the coin pouch that Hazel had given me. “Whatever this can buy?” I said, holding it up.
He glanced at it. Then at me. “You have not learned the currency?”
“No.”
It was with another put out sigh that he gestured me forward. “Come along then. It looks as if my services will still be needed.”
We walked down a reflective glass staircase two levels. The lights here were less bright, the floor less shiny. While the clothing here was not as bright and patterned as the ones above, I assumed this was more of the range I could afford. They were clean, though. And they looked as if they were at least a bit more tailored than what I was wearing now.
Gabriel sighed. A sound I was now coming to know rather well. “Anything in this section will be fine,” he said. “You shouldn’t go over budget here.”
I nodded, looking around at the array of clothing presented to me.
[[I preferred pants|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[I preferred skirts|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "skirt"]]
[[I liked the idea of having both|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]“So this is the Fashion District, huh?” I let my gaze take in as much as I could. Different reams of multicolored fabric were sewn together with fingers quicker than my eyes could follow. While buttons were set out to dry, shiny with new enamel and encrusted with gems. The district itself was stunning. I knew I could spend hours in it and still not set my eyes on all it had to offer.
“This is the Fashion District,” Gabriel said with a sigh. “What exactly are you looking for here?”
I stared down at my own clothes. They were slightly dirty from the orders Hazel and I had put together. I was tempted to answer that anything clean would do. But instead, I tugged at the coin pouch that Hazel had given me. “Whatever this can buy?” I said, holding it up.
He glanced at it. Then at me. “You have not learned the currency?”
“No.”
It was with another put out sigh that he gestured me forward. “Come along then. It looks as if my services will still be needed.”
We walked down a reflective glass staircase two levels. The lights here were less bright, the floor less shiny. While the clothing here was not as bright and patterned as the ones above, I assumed this was more of the range I could afford. They were clean, though. And they looked as if they were at least a bit more tailored than what I was wearing now.
Gabriel sighed. A sound I was now coming to know rather well. “Anything in this section will be fine,” he said. “You shouldn’t go over budget here.”
I nodded, looking around at the array of clothing presented to me.
[[I preferred pants|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "pants"]]
[[I preferred skirts|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "skirt"]]
[[I liked the idea of having both|Bottoms G][$bottoms to "pants and a skirt"]]As I began making my choices, I couldn’t help but notice how Gabriel stood guard next to me. His back was straight as he was looking out over the market, his eyes scanning the crowd. I guess he was still on duty. Though I was starting to wonder if he ever took time off. True time off that is. Not whatever relaxation he would claim he was doing now.
With a sigh, I looked at the array of corsets and vests, trying to decide which one I would go with.
[[Corset|Vest G][$vest to "corset"]]
[[Vest|Vest G][$vest to "vest"]]
[[Neither|Vest G][$vest to "no vest or corset"]]
<<set $dailyattire to "true">>Ultimately I went with $vest, casting my eyes now to the display of over skirts that I saw hanging from the mannequin. I had seen a lot of them on people while wandering the market. They seemed to be something of the trend currently.
I decided that I…
[[Want an over skirt|Overskirt G][$overskirt to "yes"]]
[[Did not want an over skirt|Overskirt G][$overskirt to "no overskirt"]]
“You’ll need to pick out a jacket,” Gabriel was saying, nearly making me jump. He had been so quiet and still it was easy to forget that he was even there.
“It hasn’t been too chilly yet,” I told him. Though, Hazel’s fingers looked frozen this morning when she had come in from the garden.
“I would suggest deciding if a long or a short style will work better for you while at Ms. Albright’s. I do not know the type of work you are enacting and cannot advise you on that.”
[[Short|Jacket G][$jacket to "short jacket"]]
[[Long|Jacket G][$jacket to "long jacket"]]
I decided on a $jacket, eyeing the shopkeep in front of me as I plucked one off her shelves. No one seemed to mind that I was grabbing things. They didn’t even lift their gaze. Their spider like fingers just kept clicking along, making new clothes to replace the ones I grabbed.
Turning, I decided I needed something to cover my head in case it started to rain. Not that I even knew if it rained in the Night Market but I figured it was best to be prepared.
[[A hat would suit my needs|Headpiece G][$headpiece to "hat"]]
[[I wanted a scarf|Headpiece G][$headpiece to "scarf"]]
[[A nice wrap it is then|Headpiece G][$headpiece to "wrap"]]
With all of that in mind, I turned towards Gabriel. “I think I got everything,” I told him. My arms were loaded down with various articles of clothing. None of which I knew if they were going to fit me. But there didn't seem to be sizing on anything I picked, and so I was left guessing for the most part.
“Let me see the tags,” he said, holding out his hands.
I frowned, tugging at the little brown tags attached to everything I held. When I handed them to him, he tallied them up quickly, looking into my coin purse to make sure I had enough. “It’ll be most of your money but you will have it covered. Would you like me to go pay while you put your clothing on now? I’m assuming you do not wish to wear your old clothes.”
I nodded, feeling a little off center with his pleasantries.
I stepped inside the dressing room, running my fingers across my new clothes. They were mine. Bought with my hard-earned money. The thought of it made me proud. As I began putting them on, I felt the clothes begin to move across my skin, conforming to my measurements. I watched as they cinched in at all the right spots before flaring out where needed. I smiled a bit at that, feeling myself in a small bit of awe at the obvious display of magic. Hazel had said charms were sometimes placed throughout the city to make life easier on the members of the market. I had to agree that this was one of the more ingenious uses for one.
Overall, the style I was going for was…
[[Revealing, despite all the layers|Modesty G][$modesty to "revealing"]]
[[A conglomeration of layers that fit perfectly. Not too loose or tight|Modesty G][$modesty to "perfectly fitting"]]
[[Modest and comfortable|Modesty G][$modesty to "modest"]]
The style I chose was $modesty. As I watched the clothes fit over my skin, I breathed a sigh of relief. Despite them being strips of fabric, they somehow made me feel more like me. For the first time in a week, I felt a little slice of my own personality begin to shine through.
When I stepped out from behind the curtain, I could see Gabriel coming back towards me. His dark cloak of midnight blue was cinched around him, the glint of his sword peeking out from beneath the folds. His face held a severity, with his hair slicked back. But I had seen glimpses of something kinder within him when we had been walking.
When he stepped forward, I looked at him. His gaze traced across my body, a soldier looking for the gaps in my armour. I couldn’t help but notice the way his grey eyes flared bright.
“Sufficient,” he said. “Very practical.”
“You really know how to pay someone a compliment,” I said.
His gaze was already leaving mine though, drifting down to the platforms below. Stepping forward, I looked over the edge, hearing a commotion begin to rumble just out of view. “Stay put,” Gabriel told me. Before I could answer, he was taking off towards the shouts that were beginning to fill the district.
Gabriel jumped off of the runway, landing on the platform below. I stood frozen for one heart stopping moment as the rush of the market began to swirl around me. When someone knocked into me from behind, I stumbled forward, falling on my hands and knees at the edge of the platform.
The runway had been broken in two, a jagged line of glass jutting between the two halves where shoppers dangled from their sharp edges, their blood dripping across the reflective surface like water. Chaos erupted as others rushed forth, trying to keep the few hanging on from falling onto the machines below. While the crowd burst forth, helping as best they could, I spotted a few onlookers nearby.
They looked no different from the rest of the shoppers. Oversized coats with velvet corsets and platform boots tucked into silken trousers. They had black wraps around their hands though, the likes of which looked speckled with glass. And as they turned to each other, laughing, I could see a small amulet tucked within the folds of one of their skirts. With a twist, the man ran his thumb across it and another loud crack sounded across the market. The platform across the way shivered before breaking, sending the stalls that stood upon it careening downwards into a jagged heap.
[[Call out for the Warden]]
[[Try to steal the amulet]]
[[Tackle them to the ground]]
The walk back to the station was quick and efficient. Not a lot of words were exchanged between Gabriel and I as he mainly debriefed his men and made sure that the three prisoners that were being dragged behind us, were properly subdued. I could hear the roar of the ocean and feel the sea breeze hit me as we came upon a familiar hill. It was not quite the ocean front and the entrance I had been escorted out of a week prior, but I would know that tomb anywhere.
The urge to run quelled within me suddenly and aggressively. Entering that place again was quite possibly the most questionable thing I had done within the market thus far. But Gabriel continued to walk, his black boots echoing loudly across a dock bridge that led to an unassuming metal door. I noticed his men veer off with the prisoners, heading downwards to where I presumed another entrance would be.
Halfway across the dock, Gabriel paused. Sheer drops encased either side of the bridge, the sandy expanse of beach looming below. He turned to look at me, confusion written across his face until he made the connection of just why I was paralyzed at the other end of the bridge.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
He stood before me. An unmovable force. It oddly provided comfort despite it once being the very thing that had stood in my way of freedom. “Just trying to tell myself I’m not a prisoner this time around.”
“You are not a prisoner,” he said firmly.
[[Maybe you should ask for my papers. Just in case]]
[[Repeat the words as a reminder that you are free]]
[[(Panic) I can’t do this]]His words wrapped around me, shielding me from the fear and panic that had begun to rise. I nodded, feeling slightly better, and giving him a soft smile. “Maybe you should ask for my papers?” I teased.
Gabriel blinked at me. “Can I please see your papers.”
I laughed, feeling the nervous energy draw out of me. But his expression did not change as he continued to stand in front of me, his hand held out expectantly, I stopped. “Wait. What? You can’t be serious.”
“Your papers please,” he requested.
With disbelief, I pulled them out, handing them to him. He nodded in satisfaction, taking an absurdly long time to view them, looking over every word. “Everything looks in order,” he said, handing them back. “You are most certainly not a prisoner. Now, would you like to come with me?”
I shook my head. “You are unbelievable.”
“I have been told that.”
[[Next|Chapter Three G7]]I am not a prisoner.
I am not a prisoner.
I let them echo through my mind, wrapping them around me like armor against whatever was to come. I had escaped here. No longer was I held captive within these rocky walls. Those terrifying moments when I had first awoken in the market did not control me any longer.
“I am not a prisoner,” I said out loud.
“You are not.” Gabriel’s voice was warm and soothing, and I felt the fear begin to tear away.
Opening eyes that I hadn’t even realized I had shut, I looked up at him. He was unmoving, his eyes concerned as he stayed by my side. While fear tried to claw at me with a taloned hand, I tried my best to shove it away.
I am not a prisoner.
“If ever you feel uncomfortable, tell me and I will get you out of there”
I nearly laughed with the irony of the situation but controlled myself. Walking back into the place I was held captive it was then.
[[Next|Chapter Three G7]]Fear washed over me in a tidal wave of panic and absolute certainty that if I walked across that bridge, I was never going to come back. The very idea of entering through that metal door and being encompassed by those cold walls sent a shiver throughout my body that caused me to tremble. It was only with a vague sense of awareness that I realized I was not stopping.
Gabriel was in front of me though, his head ducking down so he could look into my eyes. “$name,” his voice was commanding, causing my gaze to snap upwards. “Breathe.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling my chest expand and contract with the effort. When I doubled forward, holding my waist, I felt his hands on my shoulders, steadying me. <<if $pits == "true">>The slide of flesh felt wet and clammy on the salty air. I could see the pit, looming out in the distance, the water having drowned out the moans.<</if>>
“You are not a prisoner,” he repeated.
I laughed a little, the sound tedious and on the verge of breaking into a sob. What had I even been thinking? Coming back to the sight of the one place that had terrified me the most. Where it all started. I need to go. To run. I needed…
Gently, Gabriel lowered himself to his knees, in order to lock eyes with my own. I paused in my panic, feeling my heated cheeks begin to cool in the soft ocean breeze.
“We do not have to go in there,” he told me.
My eyes skittered across the bridge and towards the metal door.
[[No. It is fine. I can do this]]
[[Maybe I should head back to Hazel’s instead]]I shook my head vehemently, as if the action could dislodge the fear that I still felt at the sight of this place. What walking back in there would mean, had not been a thought that I had even entertained. Awkwardness was fine. It was manageable. It was the abject terror that I needed to quell.
Letting out another deep breath, I looked at him, trying to harden my expression. “I can do this,” I told him.
He didn’t question me and for that, I was thankful. Instead, he stepped aside, allowing me to control the pace of our steps. “If you ever believe you no longer can, my top priority will be getting you out of there,” he assured me.
It made me feel a modicum of relief.
[[Next|Chapter Three G7]]I wanted to run. I wanted to disappear from this very area. Why had I thought this a good idea? This was by far the worst decision I had made. I hadn’t been when I willingly walked towards these cells.
“Maybe I should just head back to Hazel’s,” I said, feeling my heart race in my chest.
“If that is what you wish,” Gabriel said softly. “I will not stop you. I can get one of my men to walk you there if you think it best. But,” keeping his movements slow and steady, he pulled his cloak aside, unbuckling his sword. “If you still wish to stay with me, you can. I will give you my sword for assurance that nothing will happen to you within those walls. You are not a prisoner.”
I looked at him, the blade held steady against the flat of his palms as he knelt before me, holding it out. It was absurd. The entirety of the situation was absurd. Yet, oddly, it made me feel better.
Running a hand through my hair, I let out a shaky breath. “Put that away,” I told him, resigned. “I don’t think either of us should trust me with a sword.”
He nodded, belting it back to his side and rising. “Do you still wish to go back to Ms. Albright’s?”
“No,” I told him. “I have to face my fears sometime.” Besides, I doubted facing my initial hours within the Night Market was going to be the scariest thing I’d have to do here.
[[Next|Chapter Three G7]]
The bridge across was made of haphazard planks all of which were wet and encrusted with salt. With each stomp of Gabriel’s shiny boots, I saw bits of barnacle dislodge themselves from the boards, falling to the sand beneath. <<if $pits == "true">>I couldn't look back towards the pits. My eyes refused to stray towards the sunken hole once more.<</if>>
Gabriel opened the metal door before us once we crossed, nodding his head curtly at a receptionist that sat behind a metal desk. He led me promptly through a back door and into a familiar looking tunnel. While I was certain my own cell was far from these walls, Gabriel made sure to keep our movements quick, giving us little time within the potentially triggering passage.
I kept quiet on the journey, trying to remind myself that this was not the same. I would not be locked within a cold and damp cell. I had chosen to walk in here, in fact. But, when Gabriel gestured for me to enter his office, I nearly panicked.
When the door shut behind me, I turned to make sure he was still there. He was unfastening his cloak and hanging it on a wrought iron hook near the door. When he was done, he rounded on his desk, sinking down behind it with a tired sigh.
“Please,” he gestured. “Have a seat.”
There were two rickety looking chairs across the desk from him. They were upholstered in black leather but looked torn around the edges. Craning my neck, I tried to look around the piles of paperwork and towards Gabriel’s now hunched form. His own leather chair was polished and gleaming of course. But I could tell it was well-worn. Like he sat in it often.
<<if $pits == "false">>“I have a small bit of paperwork to file for prisoners that need processed. Are you sure you wish to sit here with me while I do it? I of course can talk while I work, but I cannot imagine this being exciting for you by any means.”
“I mean, this entire situation is strange to me. Watching you do paperwork might be slightly calming.”
“I find it tedious,” he said.
I raised a brow towards him. It was one of the first times I had heard him express an opinion over his work that was not positive.<<elseif $pits == "true">> “I have a small bit of paperwork to file for the prisoners that need processed. This is of course something you will be doing eventually though I think we can save the tutorial for later.”
I felt a laugh bubble incrediously from my throat. “You have no bedside manner, do you.”
He paused, looking at me concerned. “I do not understand what you mean.”
Closing my eyes, I sighed wearily. “Of course you don’t.”<</if>>
Gathering the files, he began to get to work, dipping a pen I had seen him use within the cell, into an ink well. I watched as the pen filled itself and then began to drip before the tip could hit the pages, writing away with barely a flick of Gabriel’s wrist.
[[Thank you for being patient with me back there]]
[[How often is it you see your former prisoners on the other side of your desk]]
[[Warden life not so glamorous, huh?]]
“Thank you for being so patient with me back there,” I said after a moment. Given our history together, he did not need to give me consideration. I did not need to give him any either. For him to have waited for me to be ready to cross that bridge said a lot about the kind of person Gabriel was.
“I do not imagine being here is an easy task for you,” he said, his head bent forward as he focused on his papers. “I find myself impressed with your bravery.”
“Bravery?” I nearly laughed.
“Do you not think it brave to confront something that obviously bothers you?” He tipped his eyes upwards, pen poised above the parchment.
“I guess I never really thought of it like that.”
The hummed response he gave me was brief but denoted that maybe I should start. “My job is to patrol the streets of the Night Market and keep order,” he began. “It is a constant. I have repeat offenders. Repeat victims. Repeat individuals who just are looking for some amount of understanding. What you did today by walking across that bridge was no small feat and it is one that I encourage everyone to take. We all have proverbial bridges we must walk.”
I stared at him. He had his head down, his hair still slicked back in place. But there was something much softer about him now that we were in the quiet of his office.
[[Why do you work so much?]]
[[Ever think about taking a day off?]]
[[If you’re going to work while I’m here, is there anything I can help you with?|help G]]“Warden life not all it’s cracked up to be, huh?” In each corner of the room, stacks upon stacks of off colored paper were haphazardly kept. There didn’t seem to be any sort of rhyme or reason to his filing system, and I was almost certain there was no way he would be able to find anything of importance.
He was staring intently at the parchment sprawled across the desk before him, his brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”
“I guess I just assumed since you practically run the Velvet Guard that you would have a nicer office. Not have to do paperwork.”
“I rather like my office.”
I blinked. “It looks like a cell.”
When he nodded his head in confirmation I felt an incredulous laugh bubble in my chest. “It was,” he confirmed. “I had them convert it when I became Warden.”
There was a small part of me that was waiting for him to crack a smile at such an obvious joke, yet he continued to write, the ink dripping and flourishing words onto the page. When I remained silent, he looked up at me, blinking.
“I do not like wide open spaces,” he told me. “I prefer intimate settings. I am not a man that likes elaborate things.”
I tilted my head to the side. “You dress nice,” I pointed out. Though, that may have just been the uniform.
“You can still take pride in who you are and what you do without going overboard. I am a simple man, $name. I work most of my days. I do not need much.”
[[Why do you work so much?]]
[[Ever think about taking a day off?]]
[[If you’re going to work while I’m here, is there anything I can help you with?|help G]]“So this has got to be new for you,” I said with a small and nervous laugh. I could still feel some tension in the air from being back here and wanted to dismantle it as quickly as possible. “How often is it you see former prisoners on the other side of your desk?”
“It is rare though it does occasionally happen,” he said, moving his pen swiftly across the parchment. “Prisoners on parole often times have to sit in this office with me.”
“You have parole?”
“For the prisoners who do not make the bail block but are not problematic enough for the pits.” He paused in his writing, looking up at me in such a way that it was clear he was uncomfortable with our subject matter. Maybe he too did not wish to think of our previous time together within these walls.
“Doesn’t it ever bother you?” I asked. “Dealing with people. Locking them away?”
He shrugged a little, not quite meeting my eyes. “It is my job. There are decent people out there. Ones that I do manage to help. It is unfortunate that the most of my time within the market seems more about making arrests.”
“And it never gets to you?” The constant animosity that came with something like that. The absolute fear that some people held for him. It seemed like it would wear on even the strongest individual.
“I dedicate myself to my work and my work alone,” he responded. “It helps on the days that my personal thoughts and feelings get in the way.”
[[Why do you work so much?]]
[[Ever think about taking a day off?]]
[[If you’re going to work while I’m here, is there anything I can help you with?|help G]]“How often do you work?” I asked. I was curious. Because from what I could tell, even his so-called days off felt as if they were shoved in between patrol of the market.
“Most every day,” he answered automatically.
“You had a day off the other day,” I pointed out. It was a dry response he had given when he came to pick up from Hazel.
“Occasionally, time away is required of me to be able to run my errands. However, I do patrol the market still. I like to keep my eyes and ears on everything. In case something like today happens.”
“You can’t possibly take the entire weight of the Night Market on your shoulders.”
“I am the Warden. Should I not?”
“You may be the Warden, but you are one man. It is impossible to be everywhere at once.” I could see the strain it had on him. The decisions that it altered when it came to those he was to protect. I wondered how different our first meeting in this office would have been if he had been a little less overworked.
“Yes. Well. I can certainly try.”
Sighing, he set his pen aside, blowing on the parchment a bit to get it to dry. When he was satisfied, he set it aside, grabbing another folder and opening it. Once more, he began writing.
A few minutes went by when he looked up at me again. His grey eyes were ticked upwards in slight confusion. “I should only be a few more moments and I can take you back to Ms. Albright's. I thank you for your patience."
Leaning back in my chair, I waited.
[[Next|Chapter Three G 9]]“Warden,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “I need you to hear something. You helped me back there and so this is me trying to help you. It is okay to take a day off.”
A bitter smile appeared across his lips. “Of course it is.” While it was said in agreement, I could tell the sentiment was lost on him.
Sighing, I leaned forward a bit, trying to catch his attention. “It is okay to not work. It is okay to take some time for yourself.”
“And what is it I would be doing on this day off?” he asked, slightly amused.
“I don’t know. Enjoy your day? See some friends?”
“I like a quiet life, $name. It does not have room for relations.” He cleared his throat softly, his eyes ticking downwards towards his desk drawer. “I do, however, during the small bit of time I have unencumbered with work, like to sip wine and listen to music.”
It was something, at the very least. Though it didn’t seem as if he took the opportunity often enough to really qualify as a day off.
Sighing, he set his pen aside, blowing on the parchment a bit to get it to dry. When he was satisfied, he set it aside, grabbing another folder and opening it. Once more, he began writing.
A few minutes went by when he looked up at me again. His grey eyes were ticked upwards in slight confusion. “I should only be a few more moments and I can take you back to Ms. Albright's. I thank you for your patience."
Leaning back in my chair, I waited.
[[Next|Chapter Three G 9]]“Can I help you with any of this?” I asked. I figured if I was going to be sitting here I needed to at least attempt to make myself useful. Sitting across the desk and staring at him was going to get old quick.
“Why would you wish to?”
<<if $pits == "false">>I shrugged a little. “Sometimes, people just like to help others. Especially when they are overwhelmed.” Not that it looked as if he was overwhelmed. He looked on autopilot more than anything. That, and I wanted to be better than him. Offer the olive branch he never did.<<elseif $pits == "true">> I shrugged. “Might as well get started paying off my bail.” <</if>>
Yet, he considered my words for a long minute, mulling them over thoughtfully. “How are you at stamping?”
“Stamping?”
Setting the pen aside, he grabbed a large stack of papers and a round seal with red wax dripping from the emblem. “Stamping,” he said. “I need all of these papers to have the official Velvet Guard seal on them. Do you think you could do that for me?”
I took the seal from him and nodded. “Gladly.”
[[Next|Chapter Three G8]]
We fell into a rhythm after that. I noticed Gabriel was not much of a talker and when he lost himself within his work, he fully lost himself. Several times, members of the guard came in, asking him questions that went entirely over my head. I kept my focus on stamping the papers though, noticing that with each time the door opened, Gabriel’s irritation rose. The monotony of stamping the parchment repeatedly relaxed me, on the other hand. There was something about the mindlessness of the work that soothed me.
When the door shut again, I looked up, noticing that yet another member of the guard had come and gone. Gabriel was pinching the bridge of his nose. “You should put a sign on the door,” I suggested.
“The next one that interrupts me with such an idiotic question will be thrown in the pits,” he muttered. Immediately, it was as if he realized what he said, a line of tension running through his shoulders. “My apologies, $name. I fear I skipped my lunch today along with my dinner last evening, and it is beginning to show.”
I paused in my stamping. “Your dinner last evening? When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday morning I had a bagel.”
[[You need to actually eat]]
[[Food. Now. No excuses]]
[[Why have you gone this long without eating?]]
We fell into a rhythm after that. I noticed Gabriel was not much of a talker and when he lost himself within his work, he fully lost himself. Several times, members of the guard came in, asking him questions that went entirely over my head. I kept quiet, coming to terms with the place where I had started my journey. Though each time someone entered the room, I watched as Gabriel’s irritation rose. The hinges had a loud squeak that announced each person even passing by and the twitch that developed above Gabriel's right eye was in direct relation to it.
When the door shut again, I looked up, noticing that yet another member of the guard had come and gone. Gabriel was pinching the bridge of his nose. “You should put a sign on the door,” I suggested.
“The next one that interrupts me with such an idiotic question will be thrown in the pits,” he muttered. Immediately, it was as if he realized what he said, a line of tension running through his shoulders. “My apologies, $name. I fear I skipped my lunch today along with my dinner last evening, and it is beginning to show.”
I paused in my stamping. “Your dinner last evening? When was the last time you ate?”
“Yesterday morning I had a bagel.”
[[You need to actually eat]]
[[Food. Now. No excuses]]
[[Why have you gone this long without eating?]]
Without preamble, I leaned forward in my chair, hands resting on his desk. “Food. Now.”
“It is fine.”
“You cannot possibly be the savior of the Night Market on an empty stomach,” I said sarcastically.
I could see the corners of his mouth twitch at that. Slowly, he set his pen within the small ink well to his right, closing the parchment file in front of him. Leaning back in his chair, he opened his desk drawer, rummaging around for a moment. I could hear the rustle of papers and something rolling at the bottom of the compartment. When he produced several bags of what looked like crackers and chips, along with a bottle of wine, he set them in front of me.
“Will this suffice?” he asked.
“No. This is not a meal.”
“I am aware of that.” He opened a bag and began munching away on the contents. “Will this appease your need for me to eat for the time being? We can then go out and get something after we are done in here.”
I looked at him. Did this man truly survive on bags of old chips and fermented grapes. Shaking my head, I leaned forward, grabbing one of the bags and pushing the rest towards him. “Fine,” I said. “For now. But take a break while we’re eating and actually talk to me, okay?”
“That is an acceptable deal. What it is you would like to speak of?”
“How did you become a Warden?” I asked, munching on semi encrusted crackers. They were dry and stale, and I was almost certain they had been shoved in that desk for much longer than their shelf life required.
“I worked hard and got the job after interviewing for it,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “There’s more to that story.”
Opening the wine, he poured me a glass, sliding it across the desk. It was not in a goblet but a mug. One that was chipped and well-worn. “My apologies for not having the proper receptacle,” he said.
Sighing, I sipped the wine. It was decent.
“I fell into the job quite literally. I was a private guard before this and when I was fired from that position, I suddenly found myself bereft. I was wandering near the docks and I heard that the old Warden at the time had been killed. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I walked in here, declared myself the new warden. It turns out, that was the correct action to take because they did not question it at all.”
I stared at him, my wine halfway to my lips. “So you gave yourself the job?”
“Yes. I believe I did,” he said with a rather prideful smile. Sipping at his own wine, he looked at me. “Alright. It is your turn.”
“You can ask me questions, but I only have a couple week's worth of memories. I do not know how juicy they are going to be.”
“Who is your favorite person you have met here so far?”
[[Other than you?]]
[[I get along really well with Hazel]]
[[I have a connection with Milo]]
[[I want to know more about Belladonna]]My eyes were wide at what he considered a healthy meal. All I could think was going back to Hazel’s and telling her what he was doing. The woman would have a five-course meal at this office within the hour. “Why have you gone so long without eating?” I asked him, appalled that he was even still functioning the way he was.
“Work tends to get in the way. I was interrupted during my lunch this afternoon when I did try to fill myself with a bit of substance.”
“That is not an excuse,” I told him.
I could see the corners of his mouth twitch at that. Slowly, he set his pen within the small ink well to his right, closing the parchment file in front of him. Leaning back in his chair, he opened his desk drawer, rummaging around for a moment. I could hear the rustle of papers and something rolling at the bottom of the compartment. When he produced several bags of what looked like crackers and chips, along with a bottle of wine, he set them in front of me.
“Will this suffice?” he asked.
“No. Gabriel. This is not a meal.”
“I am aware of that.” He opened a bag and began munching away on the contents. “Will this appease your need for me to eat for the time being? We can then go out and get something after we are done in here.”
I looked at him. Did this man truly survive on bags of old chips and fermented grapes. Shaking my head, I leaned forward, grabbing one of the bags and pushing the rest towards him. “Fine,” I said. “For now. But take a break while we’re eating and actually talk to me, okay?”
“That is an acceptable deal. What it is you would like to speak of?”
“How did you become a Warden?” I asked, munching on semi encrusted crackers. They were dry and stale, and I was almost certain they had been shoved in that desk for much longer than their shelf life required.
“I worked hard and got the job after interviewing for it,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “There’s more to that story.”
Opening the wine, he poured me a glass, sliding it across the desk. It was not in a goblet but a mug. One that was chipped and well-worn. “My apologies for not having the proper receptacle,” he said.
Sighing, I sipped the wine. It was decent.
“I fell into the job quite literally. I was a private guard before this and when I was fired from that position, I suddenly found myself bereft. I was wandering near the docks and I heard that the old Warden at the time had been killed. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I walked in here, declared myself the new warden. It turns out, that was the correct action to take because they did not question it at all.”
I stared at him, my wine halfway to my lips. “So you gave yourself the job?”
“Yes. I believe I did,” he said with a rather prideful smile. Sipping at his own wine, he looked at me. “Alright. It is your turn.”
“You can ask me questions, but I only have a couple week's worth of memories. I do not know how juicy they are going to be.”
“Who is your favorite person you have met here so far?”
[[Other than you?]]
[[I get along really well with Hazel]]
[[I have a connection with Milo]]
[[I want to know more about Belladonna]]My eyes were wide at what he considered a healthy meal. All I could think was going back to Hazel’s and telling her what he was doing. The woman would have a five-course meal at this office within the hour. “You need to eat,” I admonished. “More than you are.”
“I thought my bagel consumption was quite healthy,” he said.
I could see the corners of his mouth twitch at that. Slowly, he set his pen within the small ink well to his right, closing the parchment file in front of him. Leaning back in his chair, he opened his desk drawer, rummaging around for a moment. I could hear the rustle of papers and something rolling at the bottom of the compartment. When he produced several bags of what looked like crackers and chips, along with a bottle of wine, he set them in front of me.
“Will this suffice?” he asked.
“No. This is not a meal.”
“I am aware of that.” He opened a bag and began munching away on the contents. “Will this appease your need for me to eat for the time being? We can then go out and get something after we are done in here.”
I looked at him. Did this man truly survive on bags of old chips and fermented grapes. Shaking my head, I leaned forward, grabbing one of the bags and pushing the rest towards him. “Fine,” I said. “For now. But take a break while we’re eating and actually talk to me, okay?”
“That is an acceptable deal. What it is you would like to speak of?”
“How did you become a Warden?” I asked, munching on semi encrusted crackers. They were dry and stale, and I was almost certain they had been shoved in that desk for much longer than their shelf life required.
“I worked hard and got the job after interviewing for it,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “There’s more to that story.”
Opening the wine, he poured me a glass, sliding it across the desk. It was not in a goblet but a mug. One that was chipped and well-worn. “My apologies for not having the proper receptacle,” he said.
Sighing, I sipped the wine. It was decent.
“I fell into the job quite literally. I was a private guard before this and when I was fired from that position, I suddenly found myself bereft. I was wandering near the docks and I heard that the old Warden at the time had been killed. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I walked in here, declared myself the new warden. It turns out, that was the correct action to take because they did not question it at all.”
I stared at him, my wine halfway to my lips. “So you gave yourself the job?”
“Yes. I believe I did,” he said with a rather prideful smile. Sipping at his own wine, he looked at me. “Alright. It is your turn.”
“You can ask me questions, but I only have a couple week's worth of memories. I do not know how juicy they are going to be.”
“Who is your favorite person you have met here so far?”
[[Other than you?]]
[[I get along really well with Hazel]]
[[I have a connection with Milo]]
[[I want to know more about Belladonna]]<<if $pits == "false">>“My favorite person who is not the man who locked me in a cage?” I asked with a sly grin. <<elseif $pits == "true">> "My favorite persn who is not the man who was willing to sell me for body parts?" I asked with a wry grin, teeth clenched in irritation.<</if>>
He laughed, something low and throaty. “Of course.”
I thought about it for a moment. I really hadn’t been here long enough to get to know anyone. Gabriel, was fascinating in his own right. Married to the job but obviously with a hidden personality beneath each layer. I was enjoying watching them peel away. Though he had some morality issues I wasn’t too keen on.
Hazel, was kind and caring, loving towards everyone she met. Even the ones that she shouldn’t be.
Milo was loud and full of life. He had an easy smile and one that he flaunted whenever the chance arose.
And Belladonna was a terrifying mystery that I knew, without a doubt, would continue to lurk in my shadows as I discovered more about my time here within the market.
“I don’t really know,” I told him. “Everyone has been helpful in ways that I didn’t expect when I first arrived. Rain check on that one?”
“Of course.” He took a healthy drink of his wine, savoring it for a moment before reaching for the stale crackers. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on me, the way interest was suddenly in his gaze. “Your turn.”
“What is the thing you order from Hazel every month?”
[[Next|Chapter Three G9]]
“Hazel is probably the one person I have spent the most time with,” I told him. “She is sweet. I think would literally give me anything if she thought it would help my situation.”
Gabriel nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Ms. Albright has always been that way, despite her circumstances.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not my story to tell,” he said, picking at the stale crackers. “But she is one of the strongest people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. I wish I could help her more.” His eyes ticked towards a particular stack of files. Ones that were stacked a bit neater than the others and looked like they had been gone through repeatedly.
Sighing, he tore his gaze away from there. “Your turn,” he said.
“What is the thing you order from Hazel every month?”
[[Next|Chapter Three G9]]
“Milo makes me laugh,” I told him. “He comes by Hazel’s often for dinner and cards. He leaves me alone for the most part but, I don’t know, when he’s around the shop just feels brighter?”
Gabriel sipped at his wine, sighing a little in defeat. “I cannot say I enjoy his company,” he said. “Though, his dedication to Ms. Albright is something I admire about him. He would do anything for her and it does make me feel a bit more at ease with her living at the end of that alley.”
“Why don’t you like him much?”
He raised a brow at me. “Does my opinion on that truly matter?”
I shrugged. “Just curious.” Instead, my eyes went to his jacket pocket. “What is the thing you order from Hazel every month?”
[[Next|Chapter Three G9]]
“Belladonna intrigues me. Granted, I’ve spent the least amount of time with her but the moment I was within her presence, I felt at ease. She has this way about her.”
Gabriel’s face went stony as he emptied his glass of wine. “It is her job to be as such,” he said, refilling his coffee mug.
I looked at him carefully. His entire demeanor had changed with the mention of the woman. The surrounding air went frigid, and he looked as if his thoughts were swirling dangerously in his head.
“I know it’s her job,” I said slowly, “but she only needed to give me information. She didn’t have to be kind to me. She went out of her way to speak with me about my time here. To care for me in small ways.”
“Yes, well, that is good. I am happy for you.” It was clear he was not. “Do you have another question for me?”
I didn’t know where I went wrong but I did know that I needed to get off the subject of Belladonna as quickly as possible.
“What is the thing you order from Hazel every month?” I asked quickly, hoping it would clear the tension in the room.
[[Next|Chapter Three G9]]
There was a sense of contemplation to that. As if he was deciding if he should tell me or not. I was unsure if it was the wine, or if he was finally in a more amenable mood, but when he leaned back in his chair, he fished out the small, familiar velvet pouch. It glowed faintly from where he set it on the desk between us.
Slowly, he unwrapped it, untying the string around the top, the bands glittering faintly before disappearing completely. Blue silver light shone brightly from within, a burst of starlight that flashed throughout the room, glittering at the edge of our vision.
The contents inside were nothing spectacular. It looked like a jagged piece of quartz. It was cut through with strikes of silver and blue, pulsing with a small light.
“It’s grace,” he said softly.
“Grace?”
“I am a celestial.” He ran his fingers across the top of the gem and I watched as it flared to life. The same silver power I had seen flash in his eyes drew from the gem in small tendrils, wrapping around his fingers in a tight band.
“I don’t think I understand,” I told him.
Picking the gem up, he held it within his palm. “I am not from the Night Market. I, in fact, am from a nebulous plane that resides over most of the cosmos. The Knowing. You will hear it referred to occasionally. The being of light and love that resides over us. Or, over others, that is.”
“But not you?”
He tucked the gem inside his coat pocket. “No. Not anymore. I am what they call a fallen. I was cast out of my position and landed here within these city streets. The Knowing no longer guides me.”
[[That’s horrible]]
[[Gabriel, I’m so sorry]]
[[What did you do to fall?]]
<<set $celestial to "true">>Shock was clearly written across my face as I stared at him. While I didn’t understand completely the implications of what he was saying, I could tell by his face alone, the pain that the subject brought him. He was a dedicated man. One that vigilantly watched over the Night Market. I couldn’t imagine why he would be cast aside from his own people.
“That’s horrible,” I told him, not knowing what else to say.
“Is it?” he asked. “I was not worthy of staying within the Celestial Lands. The crimes I had committed…” he cleared his throat. His voice had become edged and broken. Something within it hiding horrors that made him flinch away from his own thoughts.
“Well,” he said pragmatically, collecting himself just as quickly as the emotion had shone through. “That is enough of this game.”
<<if $pits == "false">>When he stood, I felt my heart drop. We had gotten too deep. I had pushed too hard and now, the man that I was coming to know was disappearing back behind the mask of the Warden.
Grabbing his cloak, he turned to me though. “Would you like to go get some dinner? I promise you it will be more palatable than the feast I have offered you thus far.”
I laughed at that, staring at the cellophane bags and the half drank wine. “You know what? Why not. Actual food sounds good. Though I’m afraid I have no money.”
“Well then, it is a good thing I never get the chance to spend my own. I have copious amounts of it.”<<elseif "pits" == "true">>I was confused. My heart felt heavy with the revelation. I didn't particurally like the guy and yet, I felt sorrow from the pain that clearly radiated in his eyes. Pain he was quickly shoving behind the mask of the Warden once more.
Grabbing his cloak, he turned to me though. “I think it is time that I take you back to Ms. Albright's," he told me.
I stood with him, happy to agree.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Three G10]]
Shock was clearly written across my face as I stared at him. While I didn’t understand completely the implications of what he was saying, I could tell by his face alone, the pain that the subject brought him. He was a dedicated man. One that vigilantly watched over the Night Market. I couldn’t imagine why he would be cast aside from his own people.
“Gabriel, I am so sorry.” My heart broke at the look upon his face. It was lost. Reminiscent of someone who had everything taken from them and didn’t know why. I wanted to reach out. Offer him some amount of empathy for the memories now swarming in his head.
But he didn’t give me the chance. The brief moment of sadness I had seen in his eyes was quickly eroding away to nothingness once more.
“Well,” he said pragmatically, collecting himself just as quickly as the emotion had shone through. “That is enough of this game.” <<if $pits == "false">>When he stood, I felt my heart drop. We had gotten too deep. I had pushed too hard and now, the man that I was coming to know was disappearing back behind the mask of the Warden.
Grabbing his cloak, he turned to me though. “Would you like to go get some dinner? I promise you it will be more palatable than the feast I have offered you thus far.”
I laughed at that, staring at the cellophane bags and the half drank wine. “You know what? Why not. Actual food sounds good. Though I’m afraid I have no money.”
“Well then, it is a good thing I never get the chance to spend my own. I have copious amounts of it.”<<elseif "pits" == "true">>I was confused. My heart felt heavy with the revelation. I didn't particurally like the guy and yet, I felt sorrow from the pain that clearly radiated in his eyes. Pain he was quickly shoving behind the mask of the Warden once more.
Grabbing his cloak, he turned to me though. “I think it is time that I take you back to Ms. Albright's," he told me.
I stood with him, happy to agree.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Three G10]]
Shock was clearly written across my face as I stared at him. While I didn’t understand completely the implications of what he was saying, I could tell by his face alone, the pain that the subject brought him. He was a dedicated man. One that vigilantly watched over the Night Market. I couldn’t imagine why he would be cast aside from his own people.
“What did you do to fall?” I asked numbly. I couldn’t imagine him doing anything deserving of being cast aside. From the brief time I had spent with him, he was more dedicated to the people within the market than seemed necessary. Especially if this is how he was treated.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said briskly. The brief moment of sadness I had seen in his eyes was quickly eroding away to nothingness once more.
<<if $pits == "false">>When he stood, I felt my heart drop. We had gotten too deep. I had pushed too hard and now, the man that I was coming to know was disappearing back behind the mask of the Warden.
Grabbing his cloak, he turned to me though. “Would you like to go get some dinner? I promise you it will be more palatable than the feast I have offered you thus far.”
I laughed at that, staring at the cellophane bags and the half drank wine. “You know what? Why not. Actual food sounds good. Though I’m afraid I have no money.”
“Well then, it is a good thing I never get the chance to spend my own. I have copious amounts of it.”<<elseif "pits" == "true">>I was confused. My heart felt heavy with the revelation. I didn't particurally like the guy and yet, I felt sorrow from the pain that clearly radiated in his eyes. Pain he was quickly shoving behind the mask of the Warden once more.
Grabbing his cloak, he turned to me though. “I think it is time that I take you back to Ms. Albright's," he told me.
I stood with him, happy to agree.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Three G10]]
Revelations swirled in my head as we made our way from the docks. A celestial. A being of light and love. I kept looking at Gabriel out of the corner of my eye. The Warden who held himself with high esteem. Who worked himself to the bone. Who thought himself undeserving of time for himself. I wondered what had happened and the type of man he had been before that.
I wondered if he ever wanted to find a way home or if he was stuck here, like me.
Above me, the lights began to change to the familiar amber tones as we made our way back towards the three-tiered fountain. Despite what I had just learned, I was looking forward to dinner with him, hoping that we could get back to our rhythm of conversation. There were just a few subjects that I was learning to avoid. \
<<if $pits == "false">>“What kind of food do you prefer?” he asked me, as we stepped into the Spice District. “We of course will not be eating at the carts. There are a few sit down areas indoors that I don’t think you have become aware of yet. Do you enjoy Italian? Or perhaps Greek?”
I didn’t get to answer though.<</if>>
A large crack blasted across the sky and the lanterns above began to sway. Around us, panic rumbled through the streets, a few people jumping out of the way as a crackling edge of gold and green began tracing through the air, in the middle of the street.
Gabriel put his arm in front of me, keeping me from stepping forward.
A door appeared. A gate made of light and electricity that made the air smell burnt. Images began to form through it, humanoid shapes emerging from it, dressed in dirty rags. They looked out at the market, with flat, gemstone eyes.
I looked at Gabriel, at a loss as to what I should do. The mask of the Warden was already in place.
“You need to get back to Ms. Albright’s,” he told me, turning to me with something akin to regret across his features. “Please tell her what is happening.”
“About the gate?”
“She can help,” he said quickly, his eyes beginning to skirt the crowd. When they settled on me once more, he looked as if he wanted to say so much more. “I am sorry, $name. I need to take care of this.”
“No. I-I understand.”
Casting me one last look of regret, he turned walking towards the five forms that were gathering, a crowd encircling them. A woman lifted a small child up on her hip, looking around her terrified as the baby cowered against her.
Hazel’s. I had to get Hazel’s. She could help.
I didn’t think as I began to run back to the apothecary. All I could see was the same fear I felt, the same confusion and shock that I was sure colored my own face upon arriving. I didn’t want to see them go to the cells. But Hazel. Hazel could help. Putting on all the speed I could muster, I ran from the Spice District, past the three-tiered fountain, and down the alley brimming with spirits.
Above me, the lanterns continued to sway.
[[Chapter Four]]
<<set $chaptwogate to "true">><<if $chaptwogates == "true">>“Did you find anything?” I asked hopefully. The gate had looked so vibrant and new. Not like the ones hiding within the market. I wondered how long it would stay open in the middle of the streets.<<elseif $chaptwogates == "false">>“Did you find anything?” I asked hopefully.<</if>>
“Nothing that we haven’t found before,” Milo said. He walked past me to head to the triad of couches that circled the table. Flopping down on one, he flung his arm over his eyes and sighed. “Though, in your case, I’m not really sure what we should be looking for.”
“Magical signatures,” Gabriel said. “Triggers that may open and shut them on their own volition instead of someone else.”
Milo cracked an eye at him. “There isn’t an on-off switch to these things, Warden. If there was, your people would have found it a long time ago. Or at least I would hope they would. Don’t know what the budget is like there over at the Velvet palace.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened but he didn’t respond.
There was a rattling behind the counter as Hazel dug out a full tea service, carrying a steaming tray with chipped mugs and several types of scones to the table.
“Here,” she said, “this should warm us all up. It’s getting cold out there. Did you see the rain earlier?”
Gabriel went to her side, taking the tray gently from her hands and gesturing for her to come join Milo and I. He followed.
It was quiet as we all settled. The three large patchwork sofa’s that were around the table designated to each of us. I chose to sit by
[[Gabriel]]
[[Milo]]
[[Hazel]]“But the gate,” I asked. “Doesn’t that mean the Gatekeeper is near?” It was unclear to me if the Gatekeeper needed to be physically present for a gate to open or if they just needed to cast their intent onto the market.
“We have no way of knowing if the Gatekeeper is the one who opened that gate,” Gabriel said. He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the shop, hands clasped behind his back. Milo in the meantime, came closer to me, flopping tiredly down on one of the sofa’s behind me.
“But this is a sign that they are still alive, right? That they are still operating just maybe doing it beneath the radar?” My voice was edging on desperate hope. It felt like this moment was the most significant lead that I had been given since coming to the Night Market.
Shaking his head, Gabriel looked at me sadly, bereft of having to dash what he could clearly see growing within my gaze. “It means nothing,” he said. “Nothing that we don’t know and nothing that we haven’t already experienced before.”
There was a rattling behind the counter as Hazel dug out a full tea service, carrying a steaming tray with chipped mugs and several types of scones to the table.
“Here,” she said, “this should warm us all up. It’s getting cold out there. Did you see the rain earlier?”
Gabriel went to her side, taking the tray gently from her hands and gesturing for her to come join Milo and I. He followed.
It was quiet as we all settled. The three large patchwork sofa’s that were around the table designated to each of us. I chose to sit by
[[Gabriel]]
[[Milo]]
[[Hazel]]My gaze flicked back and forth between the two men. They stood near each other in such a contrast of demeanor that I couldn’t help the twitch of my lips at the sight. “So, do I need to take this matter as serious if you two are working together?”
Milo rolled his eyes, moving behind me to the triad of sofa’s that surrounded the table. “We aren’t working on anything. The situation is over and done. Hazel is just polite and wants to invite the entire market to tea after an hour of work.”
Gabriel shook his head but didn’t answer Milo. He instead turned his gaze towards me. “Ms. Albright is essential with the refugees. She has become quite the resource over the years in calming down individuals who are fleeing from their home. Occasionally, Mr. Next see’s fit to follow her.”
“I don’t want to leave her alone with a bunch of strangers? Yeah. Super weird.” An arm was flung over his eyes as he reclined tiredly on the sofa.
There was a rattling behind the counter as Hazel dug out a full tea service, carrying a steaming tray with chipped mugs and several types of scones to the table.
“Here,” she said, “this should warm us all up. It’s getting cold out there. Did you see the rain earlier?”
Gabriel went to her side, taking the tray gently from her hands and gesturing for her to come join Milo and I. He followed.
It was quiet as we all settled. The three large patchwork sofa’s that were around the table designated to each of us. I chose to sit by
[[Gabriel]]
[[Milo]]
[[Hazel]]Approaching Gabriel, I sat down next to him. Immediately, he unbuckled his sheath, setting his sword aside so it would not hit my hip. I noticed how he scooted over, giving me ample room and ensuring my comfort. I smiled softly at him in thanks before taking the chipped cups Hazel had brought and passing them out, helping her serve the tea to us all.
“Can you please tell me what happened?” I asked. <<if $chaptwogates == "true">>I understood that I couldn’t possibly understand the full weight of what had transpired, but I had seen the fear in the refugee's eyes. I had heard the manic excitement through the market. <</if>>
“It’s a typical scenario really. Just a bit more public than we are used to,” Gabriel said, sipping at his tea. I don’t know why the sight of it looked strange to me. Or why I hadn’t noticed before how big his hands were.
“Gates open and close all the time within the market,” Hazel explained. “Most of them are of course marked but new gates do pop open as needed. Though when they do, it is usually similar to your situation. A back alley of sorts. The refugees are sometimes taken immediately someplace safe. Otherwise, they are found wandering and then…”
“Then what?” I asked.
“Those aren’t so lucky,” Milo intoned.
<<if $pits == "false">>No, I supposed they probably weren’t. I was taken by the Velvet Guard, fearful of where I was, unknowing of the world I had to navigate. What if someone else had found me? Had taken advantage of my confusion. I glanced at Hazel. I could have fallen into the hands of someone much worse. <<elseif $pits == "true">>It was what had happened to me, I realized. I had been found and then tossed into a pit. Left to rot or be sold for body parts. All because no one wanted to deal with me.<</if>>
[[Is there significance over where this gate opened?]]
[[Did you discover if the refugees were pulled here like me?]]
[[What is to stop anyone from using that gate now?]]Walking up to Milo, I tapped his leg, so he would move out of the way, making room for me on the sofa. He did so without question, sitting up straight and leaning his forearms against his knees. I could feel the warmth from his side as I leaned forward, passing out the chipped cups Hazel had brought and helping her serve the tea.
“Can you please tell me what happened?” I asked. <<if $chaptwogates == "true">>I understood that I couldn’t possibly understand the full weight of what had transpired, but I had seen the fear in the refugee's eyes. I had heard the manic excitement through the market. <</if>>
“It’s a typical scenario really. Just a bit more public than we are used to,” Gabriel said, sipping at his tea. I don’t know why the sight of it looked strange to me. Or why I hadn’t noticed before how big his hands were.
“Gates open and close all the time within the market,” Hazel explained. “Most of them are of course marked but new gates do pop open as needed. Though when they do, it is usually similar to your situation. A back alley of sorts. The refugees are sometimes taken immediately someplace safe. Otherwise, they are found wandering and then…”
“Then what?” I asked.
“Those aren’t so lucky,” Milo intoned.
<<if $pits == "false">>No, I supposed they probably weren’t. I was taken by the Velvet Guard, fearful of where I was, unknowing of the world I had to navigate. What if someone else had found me? Had taken advantage of my confusion. I glanced at Hazel. I could have fallen into the hands of someone much worse. <<elseif $pits == "true">>It was what had happened to me, I realized. I had been found and then tossed into a pit. Left to rot or be sold for body parts. All because no one wanted to deal with me.<</if>>
[[Is there significance over where this gate opened?]]
[[Did you discover if the refugees were pulled here like me?]]
[[What is to stop anyone from using that gate now?]]It was only natural to sit down next to Hazel, my leg brushing against her own. We had become used to navigating tight spaces with each other, flattening ourselves against shelving for the other to get by or ducking down as someone reached upwards for a jar of goods. Now, was no different as I worked around her, passing out the chipped teacups she had brought and helping her serve the steaming pot of tea.
“Can you please tell me what happened?” I asked. <<if $chaptwogates == "true">>I understood that I couldn’t possibly understand the full weight of what had transpired, but I had seen the fear in the refugee's eyes. I had heard the manic excitement through the market. <</if>>
“It’s a typical scenario really. Just a bit more public than we are used to,” Gabriel said, sipping at his tea. I don’t know why the sight of it looked strange to me. Or why I hadn’t noticed before how big his hands were.
“Gates open and close all the time within the market,” Hazel explained. “Most of them are of course marked but new gates do pop open as needed. Though when they do, it is usually similar to your situation. A back alley of sorts. The refugees are sometimes taken immediately someplace safe. Otherwise, they are found wandering and then…”
“Then what?” I asked.
“Those aren’t so lucky,” Milo intoned.
<<if $pits == "false">>No, I supposed they probably weren’t. I was taken by the Velvet Guard, fearful of where I was, unknowing of the world I had to navigate. What if someone else had found me? Had taken advantage of my confusion. I glanced at Hazel. I could have fallen into the hands of someone much worse. <<elseif $pits == "true">>It was what had happened to me, I realized. I had been found and then tossed into a pit. Left to rot or be sold for body parts. All because no one wanted to deal with me.<</if>>
[[Is there significance over where this gate opened?]]
[[Did you discover if the refugees were pulled here like me?]]
[[What is to stop anyone from using that gate now?]]“Is it significant that the door opened someplace public?” I couldn’t be sure but it didn’t seem as if they often opened mid-street. The Spice District was one of the busiest areas I had been to, and if the gates had a penchant for opening in front of people, it would have been a bit more of a problem to contain. There was too much excitement lingering around this one.
“There is very little significance,” Gabriel said. “It just so happened to open somewhere inconvenient this time around. If the world it's connected to dies, then it will disappear. The Market will adapt in the meantime to accommodate anyone else coming through.”
“That’s an awful blasé way to look at it,” Milo said.
“Would you rather me weep, Mr. Next?”
Milo snorted. “Oh, Gabe, there’s the sense of humor. I wondered where you were hiding it beneath those shiny buttons of yours.”
When I looked between the two of them, they were both stubbornly staring at each other, locked in a silent battle of will. Hazel seemed unfazed by it all and was sipping her tea, adding bits of honeycomb to the rim of her mug.
[[What’s with you two?]]
[[Ignore them the best you can]]
[[(To Hazel) Are they always like this?]]“What all have you discovered about the refugees that came through?” I asked. “Do you know if they were invited or if they were pulled here like me?” I didn’t wish my circumstances on anyone but I couldn’t help but feel a bit of longing to meet someone within the same predicament.
“They don’t speak our tongue,” Hazel said carefully. “Given time they will but the first few hours are shaky.”
I frowned a little, looking at her. “I didn’t even think of the fact that not everyone speaks the way we do.” I don’t know why it hadn’t crossed my mind before but now that I thought about it, there wasn’t a single person I had run into that couldn’t understand me or vice versa.
“The wonders of the Night Market,” Milo said with a flourish of his hand. “After about an hour or so in these walls, you are golden. Market translates for you so you hear everything within your native tongue.”
“Wait, so we all might be speaking different languages right now?”
Milo shrugged. “Could be. Wouldn’t actually know unless you remember what your language was called back home. Doubt any of us are speaking celestial though,” he said, looking at Gabriel.
<<if $celestial == "false">> “Celestial?” I looked Gabriel up and down. Was he truly…
Clearing his throat, Gabriel nodded. “Yes. I am a celestial being. Or was. I prefer to just be thought of as the Warden now. That part of my life was long ago.
I nodded at him, not knowing what else to say or think other than to marvel that we may all be speaking a different tongue and yet be hearing our own language. <</if>>
Leaning back into the sofa with my own mug of tea I felt my brain buzzing. No doubt, the rest of them were tired as well. The day's events feeling as if they were long and arduous so early in the evening already.
“What is to be done about the refugees,” I asked.
“They will either assimilate into our world or not. Going back to their own does not seem an option.”
Milo snorted into his mug of tea. “Rather bleak outlook you got there, Warden.”
“Would you rather I shed a tear or find a solution?” While Gabriel’s tone was calm I had yet to hear the cold bitter edge to it. Not since we had first met.
When I looked between the two of them, they were both stubbornly staring at each other, locked in a silent battle of will. Hazel seemed unfazed by it all and was sipping her tea, adding bits of honeycomb to the rim of her mug.
[[What’s with you two?]]
[[Ignore them the best you can]]
[[(To Hazel) Are they always like this?]]“With the gate open in the middle of the Spice District, what is going to stop anyone from using it?”
“Can’t go through to someone else's world unless you have an all exclusive pass to,” Milo said with a shrug. “And if that world is dying, I doubt anyone is going to want to go there anyway.”
“Hopefully it can stay open a bit,” Hazel said, her voice soft and filled with empathy. “That way if there is anyone else that needs to come through they will have a chance.”
“But I thought you had to be invited.” That was the entire creed that kept being repeated about the gates.
Hazel sighed. “Long ago the Night Market invited all those who needed safe passage into these walls. If you are running for your life, you are welcome here without question. The Night Market does not turn away those in need.”
“Where it happened is merely an inconvenience,” Gabriel was saying. His tone was a stark contrast to the soft-spoken words of Hazel’s. “If the world dies, however, then it will disappear. The Market will adapt in the meantime to accommodate anyone else coming through.”
“That’s an awful blasé way to look at it,” Milo said.
“Would you rather me weep, Mr. Next?”
Milo snorted. “Oh, Gabe, there’s the sense of humor. I wondered where you were hiding it beneath those shiny buttons of yours.”
When I looked between the two of them, they were both stubbornly staring at each other, locked in a silent battle of will. Hazel seemed unfazed by it all and was sipping her tea, adding bits of honeycomb to the rim of her mug.
[[What’s with you two?]]
[[Ignore them the best you can]]
[[(To Hazel) Are they always like this?]]“Something you two want to share?” I asked. They had never been incredibly fond of each other, from the few times I had seen them in the same room. But there was now an air of open hostility that I didn’t think I fully understood.
“Mr. Next and I just are not individuals who agree on much,” Gabriel said.
“That is a very polite way to put it, Warden. Thank you.” The sneer in Milo’s voice was evident. Hazel was only shaking her head astonishingly, though I noticed how she didn’t try to correct either of them. Perhaps it was an old battle she didn’t wish to indulge in any further.
When the door to the shop opened again, both Hazel and I jumped up. A customer this late in the evening wasn’t unheard of, but it was peculiar. Darkness swirled through the door first. A moving form that fluttered away into beating wings before sinking through the floor. It left Belladonna, standing there pale against the night behind her. Even the will-o-wisps had scattered at her presence.
She walked across the apothecary with slow and precise movements, her heels echoing across the chocolate stained floorboards. She wore a dress made of shimmering black silk, the lace of her skirt wrapping around her tightly.
Stopping in front of the table, she looked at all of us in turn.
“Well?” she intoned. “What are we planning to do about all of this?”
“I wasn’t aware we needed to do anything,” Milo said.
Belladonna tsked at him before sitting down on the arm of Gabriel’s sofa. The man moved away from her, keeping his gaze forward. “It concerns all of us, Milo Next, and you know that. Now, I have sat back but if these gates are now opening within the populated districts I have a few things to say about that. Primarily, fix it.” Her gold eyes drifted towards Gabriel's, the words clearly meant for him.
“I assure you, Ms. Malady, we are working on that,” he said through gritted teeth. The sword he had set aside earlier was now within arms reach.
“No, pet,” she said scornfully. “You are having tea.”
“Don’t call me that,” he bit out.
“Oh this is fun.” Milo leaned back, hands behind his head, while Hazel shifted uncomfortably, adverting her eyes. I couldn’t help but notice how Mr. Billow’s was now lingering just a bit closer to the table.
[[If there is something we can do about this we need to step up and do it]]
[[Please. I don’t know the histories between any of you but maybe we could actually do something]]
[[Is everyone here going to just bicker?]]I ignored the two of them the best that I could. They had never been incredibly fond of each other, from the few times I had seen them in the same room. But there was now an air of open hostility that I didn’t think I fully understood. It wasn’t my place to ask, however, and given the mood they were in, I doubted it would be met with anything but open sarcasm from Milo or a firm rebuttal from Gabriel.
When the door to the shop opened again, both Hazel and I jumped up. A customer this late in the evening wasn’t unheard of, but it was peculiar. Darkness swirled through the door first. A moving form that fluttered away into beating wings before sinking through the floor. It left Belladonna, standing there pale against the night behind her. Even the will-o-wisps had scattered at her presence.
She walked across the apothecary with slow and precise movements, her heels echoing across the chocolate stained floorboards. She wore a dress made of shimmering black silk, the lace of her skirt wrapping around her tightly.
Stopping in front of the table, she looked at all of us in turn.
“Well?” she intoned. “What are we planning to do about all of this?”
“I wasn’t aware we needed to do anything,” Milo said.
Belladonna tsked at him before sitting down on the arm of Gabriel’s sofa. The man moved away from her, keeping his gaze forward. “It concerns all of us, Milo Next, and you know that. Now, I have sat back but if these gates are now opening within the populated districts I have a few things to say about that. Primarily, fix it.” Her gold eyes drifted towards Gabriel's, the words clearly meant for him.
“I assure you, Ms. Malady, we are working on that,” he said through gritted teeth. The sword he had set aside earlier was now within arms reach.
“No, pet,” she said scornfully. “You are having tea.”
“Don’t call me that,” he bit out.
“Oh this is fun.” Milo leaned back, hands behind his head, while Hazel shifted uncomfortably, adverting her eyes. I couldn’t help but notice how Mr. Billow’s was now lingering just a bit closer to the table.
[[If there is something we can do about this we need to step up and do it]]
[[Please. I don’t know the histories between any of you but maybe we could actually do something]]
[[Is everyone here going to just bicker?]]Gabriel and Milo had never been incredibly fond of each other, from the few times I had seen them in the same room. But there was now an air of open hostility that I didn’t think I fully understood. Turning to Hazel, I raised a brow towards her.
“Are they always like this?” I couldn’t imagine the two of them inhabiting the same room often if that were the case.
Sipping her tea, Hazel nodded. “They can be rather unpleasant with each other, but I do think they both have the same goal at heart.”
Milo snorted at that, dismissing the sentiment, while Gabriel pretended not to even hear it.
When the door to the shop opened again, both Hazel and I jumped up. A customer this late in the evening wasn’t unheard of, but it was peculiar. Darkness swirled through the door first. A moving form that fluttered away into beating wings before sinking through the floor. It left Belladonna, standing there pale against the night behind her. Even the will-o-wisps had scattered at her presence.
She walked across the apothecary with slow and precise movements, her heels echoing across the chocolate stained floorboards. She wore a dress made of shimmering black silk, the lace of her skirt wrapping around her tightly.
Stopping in front of the table, she looked at all of us in turn.
“Well?” she intoned. “What are we planning to do about all of this?”
“I wasn’t aware we needed to do anything,” Milo said.
Belladonna tsked at him before sitting down on the arm of Gabriel’s sofa. The man moved away from her, keeping his gaze forward. “It concerns all of us, Milo Next, and you know that. Now, I have sat back but if these gates are now opening within the populated districts I have a few things to say about that. Primarily, fix it.” Her gold eyes drifted towards Gabriel's, the words clearly meant for him.
“I assure you, Ms. Malady, we are working on that,” he said through gritted teeth. The sword he had set aside earlier was now within arms reach.
“No, pet,” she said scornfully. “You are having tea.”
“Don’t call me that,” he bit out.
“Oh this is fun.” Milo leaned back, hands behind his head, while Hazel shifted uncomfortably, adverting her eyes. I couldn’t help but notice how Mr. Billow’s was now lingering just a bit closer to the table.
[[If there is something we can do about this we need to step up and do it]]
[[Please. I don’t know the histories between any of you but maybe we could actually do something]]
[[Is everyone here going to just bicker?]]I looked at each of them in turn, noting the different ways they were all handling the events of the evening. I didn’t know if I was supposed to be a voice of reason, but it was doubtful any sort of discussion was going to get done without a little bit of prompting. “If there is something we can do about it, maybe we should.”
“You, will be doing nothing,” Gabriel told me.
“And why not?” Belladonna asked. “Way I see it, $name has more of a stake in all of this than any of us here. These gates are what brought ?them here. They are also the key to ?their memories and getting ?them home.”
“In theory,” Milo said.
Belladonna’s gaze turned towards Milo, zeroing in on him much like she had Gabriel. “Theory is theory for a reason, boy.”
Milo cocked his head to the side, his grin going feral. “Oh, do I get a pet name too?” Even I could see the walls going up around Milo. He was on guard even further since Belladonna had cast her voice into the conversation.
Belladonna snorted, crossing one leg in front of the other. “Hazel, darling, tea please.”
I had never seen Hazel jump so high at being addressed. Immediately she leaned forward, making Belladonna a cup. Despite having made it clear that she wanted very little to do with the woman, I noticed how Hazel knew exactly how the woman took her tea.
“I did not make my way down that dreaded alley for polite conversation,” Belladonna continued, watching Hazel approvingly. “And certainly make no mistake. Me being here and even considering working in this degree is not something I am doing out of the goodness of my heart. There are gates shimmering all over the market. I can see them. And if I can see them, so can others of my kind.”
<<if $bellavamp == "false">>"Vampires can see the gates?" Hazel asked.
I did a double take. "Vampire?"
Her fangs flashed as she wiggled her fingers at me. "Hello."
Suddenly, everything about Belladonna made a lot more sense. Right down to the allure that coated her like a second skin.<</if>>
[[You see the gates that are going to open or the ones that have?]]
[[What do you mean by shimmering?]]
[[Does it matter if they’re seen? It would maybe cause less confusion]]I looked at each of them in turn, noting the different ways they were all handling the events of the evening. I didn’t want to be the voice of reason between these four. They were all powerful in their own right. But sitting here now, each of them looked like talking with each other was the last thing they wished to do.
“Please,” I said softly, my voice cutting through the bits of animosity circling. “I don’t know the histories between any of you, but maybe we could sit and discuss this. Perhaps the solution to all this is putting our heads together. We should help if we can.”
“You, will be doing nothing,” Gabriel told me.
“And why not?” Belladonna asked. “Way I see it, $name has more of a stake in all of this than any of us here. These gates are what brought ?them here. They are also the key to ?their memories and getting ?them home.”
“In theory,” Milo said.
Belladonna’s gaze turned towards Milo, zeroing in on him much like she had Gabriel. “Theory is theory for a reason, boy.”
Milo cocked his head to the side, his grin going feral. “Oh, do I get a pet name too?” Even I could see the walls going up around Milo. He was on guard even further since Belladonna had cast her voice into the conversation.
Belladonna snorted, crossing one leg in front of the other. “Hazel, darling, tea please.”
I had never seen Hazel jump so high at being addressed. Immediately she leaned forward, making Belladonna a cup. Despite having made it clear that she wanted very little to do with the woman, I noticed how Hazel knew exactly how the woman took her tea.
“I did not make my way down that dreaded alley for polite conversation,” Belladonna continued, watching Hazel approvingly. “And certainly make no mistake. Me being here and even considering working in this degree is not something I am doing out of the goodness of my heart. There are gates shimmering all over the market. I can see them. And if I can see them, so can others of my kind.”
<<if $bellavamp == "false">>"Vampires can see the gates?" Hazel asked.
I did a double take. "Vampire?"
Her fangs flashed as she wiggled her fingers at me. "Hello."
Suddenly, everything about Belladonna made a lot more sense. Right down to the allure that coated her like a second skin.<</if>>
[[You see the gates that are going to open or the ones that have?]]
[[What do you mean by shimmering?]]
[[Does it matter if they’re seen? It would maybe cause less confusion]]I was astonished by what I was seeing. Four people. Each powerful in their own right. All of which were sitting around bickering with each other and getting us nowhere. Except for Hazel who looked as if she were hoping the sofa would swallow her whole.
“Are you all going to just bicker?” I finally asked. “If Belladonna is right and there is something to be done, then we should be doing it rather than doing whatever this is,” I said, waving mainly between Gabriel and Milo.
“You, will be doing nothing,” Gabriel told me.
“And why not?” Belladonna asked. “Way I see it, $name has more of a stake in all of this than any of us here. These gates are what brought ?them here. They are also the key to ?their memories and getting ?them home.”
“In theory,” Milo said.
Belladonna’s gaze turned towards Milo, zeroing in on him much like she had Gabriel. “Theory is theory for a reason, boy.”
Milo cocked his head to the side, his grin going feral. “Oh, do I get a pet name too?” Even I could see the walls going up around Milo. He was on guard even further since Belladonna had cast her voice into the conversation.
Belladonna snorted, crossing one leg in front of the other. “Hazel, darling, tea please.”
I had never seen Hazel jump so high at being addressed. Immediately she leaned forward, making Belladonna a cup. Despite having made it clear that she wanted very little to do with the woman, I noticed how Hazel knew exactly how the woman took her tea.
“I did not make my way down that dreaded alley for polite conversation,” Belladonna continued, watching Hazel approvingly. “And certainly make no mistake. Me being here and even considering working in this degree is not something I am doing out of the goodness of my heart. There are gates shimmering all over the market. I can see them. And if I can see them, so can others of my kind.”
<<if $bellavamp == "false">>"Vampires can see the gates?" Hazel asked.
I did a double take. "Vampire?"
Her fangs flashed as she wiggled her fingers at me. "Hello."
Suddenly, everything about Belladonna made a lot more sense. Right down to the allure that coated her like a second skin.<</if>>
[[You see the gates that are going to open or the ones that have?]]
[[What do you mean by shimmering?]]
[[Does it matter if they’re seen? It would maybe cause less confusion]]“Wait. You can see the gates?” I asked. “All of them or the ones that are about to open.” If Belladonna could teach me the signs, help me learn where they were, maybe there was a way I could find my way back.
Hazel’s fingers were hovering over the sugar cubes. “You don’t believe that the Baron of the Mists is trying to take over again, do you?” There were too many questions being volleyed around and I didn’t think mine had been heard.
“I do not know,” she said, taking the tea from Hazel’s hands. She brushed her fingers across Hazel’s, letting them linger across the tanned skin. “But it is something to consider.”
“The Baron has no involvement in this,” Gabriel said. “They have to file monthly reports with my office and I would have known if she was sanctioning gates to be opened. Not that that is even within her abilities.”
Milo looked at him sardonically. “You think that bitch is going to tell you anything?”
“It is proper procedure, Mr. Next.” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed on Milo. “Something I put in place once taking office to ensure that no one Baron could get away with something they should not.”
“Oh, and that certainly stopped her the last time,” Milo sneered. I could feel the tension notching up in the room as Milo now sat at the edge of his seat and Gabriel’s eyes turned a steel grey.
“I was not in office then,” he said through clenched teeth.
“No,” Milo drawled. “You just capitalized on the events and got put in place right after.”
“Boys, enough,” Belladonna’s voice was a cold snap through the room. It did not deter the daggers Gabriel and Milo were staring at each other, but it certainly kept their mouths shut. Turning to me, Belladonna sipped her tea, observing me from over the rim. Not one of us moved. I’m not sure if the others realized they held their breath or if it was just naturally something they did in her presence. I couldn’t deny how the room chilled despite the roaring fire I had made sure to keep going.
“Do you know the history with the gates, dear heart?” she asked.
[[I know what I’ve been told but it’s starting to feel more personal]]
[[A little]]
[[Seems like there is something new to uncover every day]]“What do you mean they are shimmering?” I asked. Was that all someone had to look for to find an active gate?
Hazel’s fingers were hovering over the sugar cubes. “You don’t believe that the Baron of the Mists is trying to take over again, do you?” There were too many questions being volleyed around and I didn’t think mine had been heard.
“I do not know,” she said, taking the tea from Hazel’s hands. She brushed her fingers across Hazel’s, letting them linger across the tanned skin. “But it is something to consider.”
“The Baron has no involvement in this,” Gabriel said. “They have to file monthly reports with my office and I would have known if she was sanctioning gates to be opened. Not that that is even within her abilities.”
Milo looked at him sardonically. “You think that bitch is going to tell you anything?”
“It is proper procedure, Mr. Next.” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed on Milo. “Something I put in place once taking office to ensure that no one Baron could get away with something they should not.”
“Oh, and that certainly stopped her the last time,” Milo sneered. I could feel the tension notching up in the room as Milo now sat at the edge of his seat and Gabriel’s eyes turned a steel grey.
“I was not in office then,” he said through clenched teeth.
“No,” Milo drawled. “You just capitalized on the events and got put in place right after.”
“Boys, enough,” Belladonna’s voice was a cold snap through the room. It did not deter the daggers Gabriel and Milo were staring at each other, but it certainly kept their mouths shut. Turning to me, Belladonna sipped her tea, observing me from over the rim. Not one of us moved. I’m not sure if the others realized they held their breath or if it was just naturally something they did in her presence. I couldn’t deny how the room chilled despite the roaring fire I had made sure to keep going.
“Do you know the history with the gates, dear heart?” she asked.
[[I know what I’ve been told but it’s starting to feel more personal]]
[[A little]]
[[Seems like there is something new to uncover every day]]“Is it really such a bad thing if people can see them? The situation surrounding these gates seems so secretive that maybe it would be better if everything was out in the open.”
Hazel’s fingers were hovering over the sugar cubes. “You don’t believe that the Baron of the Mists is trying to take over again, do you?” There were too many questions being volleyed around and I didn’t think mine had been heard.
“I do not know,” she said, taking the tea from Hazel’s hands. She brushed her fingers across Hazel’s, letting them linger across the tanned skin. “But it is something to consider.”
“The Baron has no involvement in this,” Gabriel said. “They have to file monthly reports with my office and I would have known if she was sanctioning gates to be opened. Not that that is even within her abilities.”
Milo looked at him sardonically. “You think that bitch is going to tell you anything?”
“It is proper procedure, Mr. Next.” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed on Milo. “Something I put in place once taking office to ensure that no one Baron could get away with something they should not.”
“Oh, and that certainly stopped her the last time,” Milo sneered. I could feel the tension notching up in the room as Milo now sat at the edge of his seat and Gabriel’s eyes turned a steel grey.
“I was not in office then,” he said through clenched teeth.
“No,” Milo drawled. “You just capitalized on the events and got put in place right after.”
“Boys, enough,” Belladonna’s voice was a cold snap through the room. It did not deter the daggers Gabriel and Milo were staring at each other, but it certainly kept their mouths shut. Turning to me, Belladonna sipped her tea, observing me from over the rim. Not one of us moved. I’m not sure if the others realized they held their breath or if it was just naturally something they did in her presence. I couldn’t deny how the room chilled despite the roaring fire I had made sure to keep going.
“Do you know the history with the gates, dear heart?” she asked.
[[I know what I’ve been told but it’s starting to feel more personal]]
[[A little]]
[[Seems like there is something new to uncover every day]]Hesitantly, I looked at them all. At some point, each one of them had given me information about the Night Market. But with each moment that was uncovered, I realized I had only been given the information they wanted me to have.
“I know what I’ve been told,” I said slowly. “But it is starting to feel a lot more personal than what I had previously anticipated.”
There was clear disappointment in her eyes when she looked at the people around her. “Honestly. I would have assumed the two of you would have told ?them,” she said to both Milo and Hazel. Hazel looked away while Milo turned his ire to her.
“It was ten years ago and has no bearing on today.”
“Doesn’t it?” She raised a perfectly arched brow at him, challenging him with the barest of moves. “Gates are opening, and we don’t know why. We are searching for the Gatekeeper and the Barons are surly trying to flush them out. And, a bloody downfall is sure to ensue if we continue to operate in such terms of secrecy. Or do you think that history can repeat itself with the same set of rules and have an entirely different outcome?”
Milo stood from the table, walking away. His footfalls rang heavy across the wooden floor as he stormed across the expanse of the apothecary, his fists curled at his side. Hazel’s head was bent, but I could still see the tears in her eyes. And Gabriel was looking at Belladonna evenly.
“You could have handled that more delicately,” he told her.
“I could have,” she agreed. “But Milo likes to play the unaffected bachelor who desires nothing more than fun and dancing in the rain. With what is happening within the market, we don’t have time for that attitude. Not this moment.”
“She’s right.” Hazel looked up at us, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks. “I don’t want to relive it either, but it is important. I’ll go talk to him.”
“You don’t need to.” Milo was leaning against one of the support beams, cigarette between his lips and lighter in hand. He was across the room, an outsider now. I waited to see if he would actually light the fixation he often fiddled with when nervous. Though I thought I saw him come close, he only flicked the lighter open and shut in a rhythmic click. “Alright, Belladonna, you want to do this, we can do this,” he said. “You do realize your part in all of this is going to be laid out too, though, yeah?”
“My part was simply working and betraying a Baron by helping you,” she said. “I have nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to hide.”
Hazel turned to me. “Malcolm, my brother, he was the Gatekeeper ten years ago. I should have told you. I know I should have but I… everything that happened... I just…” looking up, she swallowed. “When you first came to the shop I didn’t know if I could trust you. I didn’t know what type of person you would be. And of course that isn’t what I think now,” she amended. “I really don’t. I think you’re kind and your heart is in the right place. It was just, then, I didn’t want… he’s my brother. I still want to protect him.”
[[I understand]]
[[You should have told me]]
[[What are you even protecting him from?]]“A little.” I had of course been told some things. Enough to get by. But Belladonna didn’t ask questions just to ask them. There was something bigger that I was missing and she wanted me to know.
There was clear disappointment in her eyes when she looked at the people around her. “Honestly. I would have assumed the two of you would have told ?them,” she said to both Milo and Hazel. Hazel looked away while Milo turned his ire to her.
“It was ten years ago and has no bearing on today.”
“Doesn’t it?” She raised a perfectly arched brow at him, challenging him with the barest of moves. “Gates are opening, and we don’t know why. We are searching for the Gatekeeper and the Barons are surly trying to flush them out. And, a bloody downfall is sure to ensue if we continue to operate in such terms of secrecy. Or do you think that history can repeat itself with the same set of rules and have an entirely different outcome?”
Milo stood from the table, walking away. His footfalls rang heavy across the wooden floor as he stormed across the expanse of the apothecary, his fists curled at his side. Hazel’s head was bent, but I could still see the tears in her eyes. And Gabriel was looking at Belladonna evenly.
“You could have handled that more delicately,” he told her.
“I could have,” she agreed. “But Milo likes to play the unaffected bachelor who desires nothing more than fun and dancing in the rain. With what is happening within the market, we don’t have time for that attitude. Not this moment.”
“She’s right.” Hazel looked up at us, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks. “I don’t want to relive it either, but it is important. I’ll go talk to him.”
“You don’t need to.” Milo was leaning against one of the support beams, cigarette between his lips and lighter in hand. He was across the room, an outsider now. I waited to see if he would actually light the fixation he often fiddled with when nervous. Though I thought I saw him come close, he only flicked the lighter open and shut in a rhythmic click. “Alright, Belladonna, you want to do this, we can do this,” he said. “You do realize your part in all of this is going to be laid out too, though, yeah?”
“My part was simply working and betraying a Baron by helping you,” she said. “I have nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to hide.”
Hazel turned to me. “Malcolm, my brother, he was the Gatekeeper ten years ago. I should have told you. I know I should have but I… everything that happened... I just…” looking up, she swallowed. “When you first came to the shop I didn’t know if I could trust you. I didn’t know what type of person you would be. And of course that isn’t what I think now,” she amended. “I really don’t. I think you’re kind and your heart is in the right place. It was just, then, I didn’t want… he’s my brother. I still want to protect him.”
[[I understand]]
[[You should have told me]]
[[What are you even protecting him from?]]I leaned back, feeling a tendril of bitterness lace my words. “Seems like there is something new to uncover every day,” I told her.
There was clear disappointment in her eyes when she looked at the people around her. “Honestly. I would have assumed the two of you would have told ?them,” she said to both Milo and Hazel. Hazel looked away while Milo turned his ire to her.
“It was ten years ago and has no bearing on today.”
“Doesn’t it?” She raised a perfectly arched brow at him, challenging him with the barest of moves. “Gates are opening, and we don’t know why. We are searching for the Gatekeeper and the Barons are surly trying to flush them out. And, a bloody downfall is sure to ensue if we continue to operate in such terms of secrecy. Or do you think that history can repeat itself with the same set of rules and have an entirely different outcome?”
Milo stood from the table, walking away. His footfalls rang heavy across the wooden floor as he stormed across the expanse of the apothecary, his fists curled at his side. Hazel’s head was bent, but I could still see the tears in her eyes. And Gabriel was looking at Belladonna evenly.
“You could have handled that more delicately,” he told her.
“I could have,” she agreed. “But Milo likes to play the unaffected bachelor who desires nothing more than fun and dancing in the rain. With what is happening within the market, we don’t have time for that attitude. Not this moment.”
“She’s right.” Hazel looked up at us, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks. “I don’t want to relive it either, but it is important. I’ll go talk to him.”
“You don’t need to.” Milo was leaning against one of the support beams, cigarette between his lips and lighter in hand. He was across the room, an outsider now. I waited to see if he would actually light the fixation he often fiddled with when nervous. Though I thought I saw him come close, he only flicked the lighter open and shut in a rhythmic click. “Alright, Belladonna, you want to do this, we can do this,” he said. “You do realize your part in all of this is going to be laid out too, though, yeah?”
“My part was simply working and betraying a Baron by helping you,” she said. “I have nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to hide.”
Hazel turned to me. “Malcolm, my brother, he was the Gatekeeper ten years ago. I should have told you. I know I should have but I… everything that happened... I just…” looking up, she swallowed. “When you first came to the shop I didn’t know if I could trust you. I didn’t know what type of person you would be. And of course that isn’t what I think now,” she amended. “I really don’t. I think you’re kind and your heart is in the right place. It was just, then, I didn’t want… he’s my brother. I still want to protect him.”
[[I understand]]
[[You should have told me]]
[[What are you even protecting him from?]]I nodded. “I understand,” I said. She barely knew me, and it was clear that whatever had happened to her brother weighed heavy on her almost every day. I had seen the way she looked at his painting she still hung throughout her home. Or how every time the shop door opened she looked up hopefully.
Hazel smiled gratefully at me. “He’s going to come back,” she said firmly. “And I didn’t want anyone after him when he does. I… he liked his privacy. His peace. He never wanted anyone to know who he had been and I wanted to honor that.”
<<if $malcolmdead == "true">>”Come back,” I said slowly. “What do you mean he’s… where is he?”
“He’s dead,” Milo said from across the room. “Has been for some time. Hazel can’t accept that.”<</if>>
I swallowed, taking in the information and looking away. I could hear Hazel sniff wetly, shivering at the confession.
“If you are doing this, Ms. Albright, if we truly think this will help, we should start at the beginning,” Gabriel said.
Milo sighed, flicking the lighter open and shut. A small snick sounding through the room. Hazel was gathering herself but he was stepping in to head the explanation. “Ten years ago I was hired by a Baron. The Baron of the Mists. I was supposed to start stealing bits and bobs from gates. Known ones. The idea behind that, was to flush out the Gatekeeper. I was told, that the Baron’s wanted to know who he was. They didn’t think one man should have the type of power the Gatekeeper has.”
“Because the Gatekeeper controls the doors?” I asked, reaffirming what I already knew.
“Because, dear heart, the Gatekeeper was more powerful than all of them combined,” Belladonna said evenly. “He had the ability to open and shut any gate. Deny access to armies. Boot out anyone he did not deem Night Market material. And he didn’t have to ask anyone for permission.” Belladonna nearly looked envious at the thought of it. Uncontrolled and unrivaled power for sure. Anyone that hungered for such would be tempted by its glamour.
“So,” Milo continued loudly, “when I was told that I was being hired by the Barons to help flush this guy out, I didn’t really have a choice. I took the job. Started stealing bits of the gates, making them inoperable.”
“Little did he know,” Hazel continued, “the Gatekeeper was there the very first gem he stole. Malcolm followed him and was with Milo every step of the way. We assumed he had been hired as well. To stop Milo from doing this. Malcolm told us he worked for the Gatekeeper. It wasn’t an unusual thing to hear. Milo and Malcolm had been pitted against each other in jobs several times over the years. They were some of the best thieves for hire within the market.”
“However, Barons rarely tell the truth,” Belladonna said. “At the time, I worked for the Baron of the Mists. The one who hired Milo and told him that this was the wishes of all the Barons. I uncovered that this was simply not the case. Instead, she wished to find the Gatekeeper for herself. To kill him and gain his power. Transferal of power only happens through death, after all.”
I looked between Belladonna, Milo and Hazel. “So she killed him?”
Milo tucked the cigarette back behind his ear and stepped away. I didn’t see where he went. Didn’t know if he even was still within the apothecary. Just that he was gone from view. The flash of pain I saw in his eyes was unmistakable though. It made my stomach clench to see something so naked and raw on his face.
“She killed him,” Hazel confirmed quietly. “Malcolm figured out before any of us that was her plan, and we confronted her here. We had planned to shove her through a gate. Had one open and everything. But she killed him before...” Hazel’s words caught in her throat, choking her. From across the table, Gabriel handed her a handkerchief.
“But he’s coming back,” she protested. “He is. We pushed him through the gate and the Night Market will claim him. It will pull him back through.”
[[Comfort Hazel]]
[[Will he still be the Gatekeeper when he gets back? Is he the Gatekeeper now?]]
[[Is there a possibility he’s back and just doesn’t remember who he is?]]
[[Is there a possibility he’s back and is hiding from all of you?]]I stared at Hazel, trying to suss out my own emotions. “You should have told me,” I said, feeling hurt and betrayal course through me. I had asked. I had asked them if they had known the Gatekeeper ever. They had all said no.
“I’m so sorry,” Hazel whispered, hands wringing in her lap. I found myself turning away from her.
Hazel’s eyes were wet, fear naked on her features. “He’s going to come back,” she said firmly. “And I didn’t want anyone after him when he does. I… he liked his privacy. His peace. He never wanted anyone to know who he had been and I wanted to honor that.”
<<if $malcolmdead == "true">>”Come back,” I said slowly. “What do you mean he’s… where is he?”
“He’s dead,” Milo said from across the room. “Has been for some time. Hazel can’t accept that.”<</if>>
I swallowed, taking in the information and looking away. I could hear Hazel sniff wetly, shivering at the confession.
“If you are doing this, Ms. Albright, if we truly think this will help, we should start at the beginning,” Gabriel said.
Milo sighed, flicking the lighter open and shut. A small snick sounding through the room. Hazel was gathering herself but he was stepping in to head the explanation. “Ten years ago I was hired by a Baron. The Baron of the Mists. I was supposed to start stealing bits and bobs from gates. Known ones. The idea behind that, was to flush out the Gatekeeper. I was told, that the Baron’s wanted to know who he was. They didn’t think one man should have the type of power the Gatekeeper has.”
“Because the Gatekeeper controls the doors?” I asked, reaffirming what I already knew.
“Because, dear heart, the Gatekeeper was more powerful than all of them combined,” Belladonna said evenly. “He had the ability to open and shut any gate. Deny access to armies. Boot out anyone he did not deem Night Market material. And he didn’t have to ask anyone for permission.” Belladonna nearly looked envious at the thought of it. Uncontrolled and unrivaled power for sure. Anyone that hungered for such would be tempted by its glamour.
“So,” Milo continued loudly, “when I was told that I was being hired by the Barons to help flush this guy out, I didn’t really have a choice. I took the job. Started stealing bits of the gates, making them inoperable.”
“Little did he know,” Hazel continued, “the Gatekeeper was there the very first gem he stole. Malcolm followed him and was with Milo every step of the way. We assumed he had been hired as well. To stop Milo from doing this. Malcolm told us he worked for the Gatekeeper. It wasn’t an unusual thing to hear. Milo and Malcolm had been pitted against each other in jobs several times over the years. They were some of the best thieves for hire within the market.”
“However, Barons rarely tell the truth,” Belladonna said. “At the time, I worked for the Baron of the Mists. The one who hired Milo and told him that this was the wishes of all the Barons. I uncovered that this was simply not the case. Instead, she wished to find the Gatekeeper for herself. To kill him and gain his power. Transferal of power only happens through death, after all.”
I looked between Belladonna, Milo and Hazel. “So she killed him?”
Milo tucked the cigarette back behind his ear and stepped away. I didn’t see where he went. Didn’t know if he even was still within the apothecary. Just that he was gone from view. The flash of pain I saw in his eyes was unmistakable though. It made my stomach clench to see something so naked and raw on his face.
“She killed him,” Hazel confirmed quietly. “Malcolm figured out before any of us that was her plan, and we confronted her here. We had planned to shove her through a gate. Had one open and everything. But she killed him before...” Hazel’s words caught in her throat, choking her. From across the table, Gabriel handed her a handkerchief.
“But he’s coming back,” she protested. “He is. We pushed him through the gate and the Night Market will claim him. It will pull him back through.”
[[Comfort Hazel]]
[[Will he still be the Gatekeeper when he gets back? Is he the Gatekeeper now?]]
[[Is there a possibility he’s back and just doesn’t remember who he is?]]
[[Is there a possibility he’s back and is hiding from all of you?]]I was confused. On one hand, I understood why she would keep such a secret from a stranger. But on the other, it didn’t negate that this was my life. That this information could have helped me sooner.
Shaking my head, I stared at her. “I don’t understand. What are you even protecting him from?”
Hazel’s eyes were wet, fear naked on her features. “He’s going to come back,” she said firmly. “And I didn’t want anyone after him when he does. I… he liked his privacy. His peace. He never wanted anyone to know who he had been and I wanted to honor that.”
<<if $malcolmdead == "true">>”Come back,” I said slowly. “What do you mean he’s… where is he?”
“He’s dead,” Milo said from across the room. “Has been for some time. Hazel can’t accept that.”<</if>>
I swallowed, taking in the information and looking away. I could hear Hazel sniff wetly, shivering at the confession.
“If you are doing this, Ms. Albright, if we truly think this will help, we should start at the beginning,” Gabriel said.
Milo sighed, flicking the lighter open and shut. A small snick sounding through the room. Hazel was gathering herself but he was stepping in to head the explanation. “Ten years ago I was hired by a Baron. The Baron of the Mists. I was supposed to start stealing bits and bobs from gates. Known ones. The idea behind that, was to flush out the Gatekeeper. I was told, that the Baron’s wanted to know who he was. They didn’t think one man should have the type of power the Gatekeeper has.”
“Because the Gatekeeper controls the doors?” I asked, reaffirming what I already knew.
“Because, dear heart, the Gatekeeper was more powerful than all of them combined,” Belladonna said evenly. “He had the ability to open and shut any gate. Deny access to armies. Boot out anyone he did not deem Night Market material. And he didn’t have to ask anyone for permission.” Belladonna nearly looked envious at the thought of it. Uncontrolled and unrivaled power for sure. Anyone that hungered for such would be tempted by its glamour.
“So,” Milo continued loudly, “when I was told that I was being hired by the Barons to help flush this guy out, I didn’t really have a choice. I took the job. Started stealing bits of the gates, making them inoperable.”
“Little did he know,” Hazel continued, “the Gatekeeper was there the very first gem he stole. Malcolm followed him and was with Milo every step of the way. We assumed he had been hired as well. To stop Milo from doing this. Malcolm told us he worked for the Gatekeeper. It wasn’t an unusual thing to hear. Milo and Malcolm had been pitted against each other in jobs several times over the years. They were some of the best thieves for hire within the market.”
“However, Barons rarely tell the truth,” Belladonna said. “At the time, I worked for the Baron of the Mists. The one who hired Milo and told him that this was the wishes of all the Barons. I uncovered that this was simply not the case. Instead, she wished to find the Gatekeeper for herself. To kill him and gain his power. Transferal of power only happens through death, after all.”
I looked between Belladonna, Milo and Hazel. “So she killed him?”
Milo tucked the cigarette back behind his ear and stepped away. I didn’t see where he went. Didn’t know if he even was still within the apothecary. Just that he was gone from view. The flash of pain I saw in his eyes was unmistakable though. It made my stomach clench to see something so naked and raw on his face.
“She killed him,” Hazel confirmed quietly. “Malcolm figured out before any of us that was her plan, and we confronted her here. We had planned to shove her through a gate. Had one open and everything. But she killed him before...” Hazel’s words caught in her throat, choking her. From across the table, Gabriel handed her a handkerchief.
“But he’s coming back,” she protested. “He is. We pushed him through the gate and the Night Market will claim him. It will pull him back through.”
[[Comfort Hazel]]
[[Will he still be the Gatekeeper when he gets back? Is he the Gatekeeper now?]]
[[Is there a possibility he’s back and just doesn’t remember who he is?]]
[[Is there a possibility he’s back and is hiding from all of you?]]I moved closer to Hazel, placing my hand on her back and rubbing in small circles. She sat hunched over, head in hands, breathing deeply. I glanced behind me, towards the room that lay beyond. What had it been like to see that? To every day come downstairs to your work and exist in the area that your brother died in? I didn’t know if I could do it.
“He’s coming back,” she muttered. It was a reassurance to herself more than anything. I saw the way both Gabriel and Belladonna looked at her. The rare bout of raw sympathy across Belladonna’s face. The determination across Gabriel’s.
I continued rubbing Hazel’s back, offering her comfort the best I could, hoping that just by being close, she’d understand that I was here for her.
[[Will he still be the Gatekeeper when he gets back? Is he the Gatekeeper now?]]
[[Is there a possibility he’s back and just doesn’t remember who he is?]]
[[Is there a possibility he’s back and is hiding from all of you?]]
I frowned. “So if the Night Market has claim to him, do you think he’s still the Gatekeeper? He’s just in another world?” It would at least explain why the Gatekeeper had not been present. Hard to be present if you are not even here.
“We have thought of that, yes,” Gabriel said. His hands were clasped before him and I could tell that he was choosing his words carefully. The subject of Malcolm Albright was a sensitive one. “The transferal of power that the Baron of the Mists was hoping for did not happen.”
I looked back and forth between him and Belladonna. I could no longer see where Milo was in the room. “How do you know?”
“I worked for her during the incident,” Belladonna said. “She returned that night furious. When Malcolm passed, nothing was given to her. Not even a hint of power. Later, I found out from the Baron of the Books that it's an old rule. A Baron cannot take another Baron's power. It is an imbalance that is not allowed. So despite her killing the Gatekeeper, the rules were clear and she did not receive what she thought she would gain.”
“But both Milo and Hazel were in the room. Why wouldn’t it have gone to them?”
Hazel reached out for the teapot, her hands shaking as she poured herself a cup. “We thought that too but nothing ever manifested. Both Milo and I tried to open doors in order to get Malcolm back when the years stretched on. It didn’t matter what we tried though, we never could. Even with the few gate keys I found among Malcolm’s things. Something went wrong, or Malcolm is still the Gatekeeper, just stuck on the other side.”
[[Is there a possibility that the Baron of the Mist’s is trying to open the gates again to find the Gatekeeper?]]
[[Is it possible someone is messing with the gates to try and flush the Gatekeeper out again? Thinking they are still here?]]
[[Is it possible that the power could have transferred out of this shop to a guard or someone else that may have been in the nearby vicinity?]]I frowned. “Is there a possibility he is still here? That he just doesn’t remember who he was?” It had happened to me. What if he was within the Night Market, in the same situation. There was a possibility that if that were true, he could be opening and closing gates without even the knowledge of doing so. The world around us was massive. The thought that Malcolm was simply in another district, unaware of his lot in life, didn’t seem out of the realm of possibilities.
“We have searched for him,” Gabriel said. “Malcolm Albright was a well known face. If he were alive, someone in the last ten years would have seen him.”
“But maybe they haven’t said anything to you. Or to Hazel. You all have told me that you don’t even know how big the market is. Couldn’t this be a possibility?”
“It could,” Belladonna conceded. “Rare occurrences should not be counted out. Though, the power should have shifted that night to the Baron of the Mists. It doesn’t matter if he is here or not, it should have gone somewhere besides him.”
“And we’re sure this Baron doesn’t have it?”
“I worked for her during the incident,” Belladonna said. “She returned that night furious. When Malcolm passed, nothing was given to her. Not even a hint of power. Later, I found out from the Baron of the Books that it's an old rule. A Baron cannot take another Baron's power. It is an imbalance that is not allowed. So despite her killing the Gatekeeper, the rules were clear and she did not receive what she thought she would gain.”
“But both Milo and Hazel were in the room. Why wouldn’t it have gone to them?”
Hazel reached out for the teapot, her hands shaking as she poured herself a cup. “We thought that too but nothing ever manifested. Both Milo and I tried to open doors in order to get Malcolm back when the years stretched on. It didn’t matter what we tried though, we never could. Even with the few gate keys I found among Malcolm’s things. Something went wrong, or Malcolm is still the Gatekeeper, just stuck on the other side.”
[[Is there a possibility that the Baron of the Mist’s is trying to open the gates again to find the Gatekeeper?]]
[[Is it possible someone is messing with the gates to try and flush the Gatekeeper out again? Thinking they are still here?]]
[[Is it possible that the power could have transferred out of this shop to a guard or someone else that may have been in the nearby vicinity?]]I frowned. What I was going to say next sounded terrible even to my own ears but I had to say it. To at the very least rule out the possibility. “Could he be back already and just not have come to see any of you?”
Hazel looked at me, her eyes wide and full of hurt. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. I didn’t know the man at all. But if the Night Market had claim to him and he was not here, the idea that he didn’t want to be found had to be entertained.
“He would come back to me,” Hazel asserted. “He would come back to Milo. I know he would.”
Belladonna sighed. “Unless he did not want to hurt you further.”
She looked at Belladonna, the expression on her face cold. “Staying away hurts far more.”
The tension that stretched across the room felt thick as the lights dimmed and the floorboards groaned. I looked around nervously, watching as Billows skittered under a pair of shelves and Gabriel’s hand inched towards his sword.
Belladonna only stared at Hazel though while Hazel returned her gaze, steady and fierce. For the first time, I didn’t know who was more terrifying in the situation.
Slowly, Belladonna’s eyes turned towards me. “While it is possible, I think the likelihood is slim. I thought something similar quite a few years ago and sent my agents out. They have orders to this day to report anyone matching his description at all. None have ever come back.”
Hazel’s eyes dropped, her shoulders slumping. Around us, the shop calmed.
“And we are positive this Baron of the Mists didn’t get his power?” I asked.
“I worked for her during the incident,” Belladonna said. “She returned that night furious. When Malcolm passed, nothing was given to her. Not even a hint of power. Later, I found out from the Baron of the Books that it's an old rule. A Baron cannot take another Baron's power. It is an imbalance that is not allowed. So despite her killing the Gatekeeper, the rules were clear and she did not receive what she thought she would gain.”
“But both Milo and Hazel were in the room. Why wouldn’t it have gone to them?”
Hazel reached out for the teapot, her hands shaking as she poured herself a cup. “We thought that too but nothing ever manifested. Both Milo and I tried to open doors in order to get Malcolm back when the years stretched on. It didn’t matter what we tried though, we never could. Even with the few gate keys I found among Malcolm’s things. Something went wrong, or Malcolm is still the Gatekeeper, just stuck on the other side.”
[[Is there a possibility that the Baron of the Mist’s is trying to open the gates again to find the Gatekeeper?]]
[[Is it possible someone is messing with the gates to try and flush the Gatekeeper out again? Thinking they are still here?]]
[[Is it possible that the power could have transferred out of this shop to a guard or someone else that may have been in the nearby vicinity?]]“Do you think it is possible for the Baron of the Mists to be trying it again? Trying to flush out the Gatekeeper?” It felt foolish, but hubris was often the folly of most who found themselves in a position of power.
Belladonna snorted in laughter at the idea. “I would not put it past her, however, I don’t know what all she could gain from it now that she knows she will never receive the Gatekeeper’s power. Though, it is beneficial to her that the gates are easier to be seen. At least by people with sharper eyes. Originally, she wished to bring forth her people, vampires, to feed on the populace. If she can see the gate to her home world, all she has to do is trigger it to open and her people will come flooding in. Is it our only problem? I highly doubt it. But it is a problem.”
“How would you trigger a gate?”
“We don’t know,” Gabriel said. “But something is certainly triggering them. Gates are opening at a frequency that we cannot control. These are not simple shoppers that are coming into our world, curious of our wares, returning home when they are done. The gates are opening to dying worlds and letting in people who are fleeing.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I understood that there was an element of chaos to it. Especially with gates opening in the middle of the street. But at the very least, at least they knew they were saving people’s lives.
Milo sighed from the corner of the shop. The sound startled me as I looked at him, hidden in shadow. “It is. But the world is thinning.”
“Thinning?”
Belladonna rolled her eyes. “Milo, dear, stop skulking and come back to join the table.”
For a moment I was certain he was not going to listen to her. I didn’t know what that meant when someone refused a woman like Belladonna but it caused my spine to straighten and fingers to flex against my knees. But, Milo emerged from the shadows, sitting next to Hazel. I watched as he leaned forward, kissing her cheek. In turn, she held his hand, squeezing it tight.
Milo sighed tiredly. The boyish charm was gone from his face and instead, he looked like a man that was worn entirely too thin. “The walls of the Night Market are thinning. With each new gate that opens, the market has to stretch to accommodate more and more people. At this point, I doubt there is even a way to tell how big the world has grown.
Gabriel nodded in confirmation. “We have most of the populated areas mapped out but I am afraid once we get into the more lawless territory, we lose sight of how far civilization stretches.”
“Worlds are not meant to do this, of course,” Belladonna said. “Hence, the idea of our world thinning. It is expanding at a rate that is far too fast for what it was meant to be and eventually, it will tear.”
“What happens when it tears?” I asked, hearing the tremble in my voice. No one seemed to want to answer. The contemplation of such a thing one in which couldn’t be voiced out loud. Not without confirming just how precarious the future was becoming. I looked towards Belladonna though, knowing that if any of them were to say it, it would be her.
“Then whatever is out there, will come pouring in and life as we know it, will no longer be supported.”
[[Next|Chapter Four 1]]
“Could something very similar be happening again?” While I didn’t know the entire story of what happened ten years ago, there was one thing that was abundantly clear. The Gatekeeper’s power was one in which was highly sought after. I doubted this Baron of the Mists was the first, or would be the last, to try and obtain it. “What if someone is trying to flush the Gatekeeper out, thinking they are still here?”
“There are endless possibilities of what could or could not be happening,” Belladonna said. “Speculation will get us very little. All we know is that the gates are being triggered. Is it our only problem? It is doubtful. But it is a problem.”
“How would you trigger a gate?”
“We don’t know,” Gabriel said. “But something is certainly triggering them. Gates are opening at a frequency that we cannot control. These are not simple shoppers that are coming into our world, curious of our wares, returning home when they are done. The gates are opening to dying worlds and letting in people who are fleeing.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I understood that there was an element of chaos to it. Especially with gates opening in the middle of the street. But at the very least, at least they knew they were saving people’s lives.
Milo sighed from the corner of the shop. The sound startled me as I looked at him, hidden in shadow. “It is. But the world is thinning.”
“Thinning?”
Belladonna rolled her eyes. “Milo, dear, stop skulking and come back to join the table.”
For a moment I was certain he was not going to listen to her. I didn’t know what that meant when someone refused a woman like Belladonna but it caused my spine to straighten and fingers to flex against my knees. But, Milo emerged from the shadows, sitting next to Hazel. I watched as he leaned forward, kissing her cheek. In turn, she held his hand, squeezing it tight.
Milo sighed tiredly. The boyish charm was gone from his face and instead, he looked like a man that was worn entirely too thin. “The walls of the Night Market are thinning. With each new gate that opens, the market has to stretch to accommodate more and more people. At this point, I doubt there is even a way to tell how big the world has grown.
Gabriel nodded in confirmation. “We have most of the populated areas mapped out but I am afraid once we get into the more lawless territory, we lose sight of how far civilization stretches.”
“Worlds are not meant to do this, of course,” Belladonna said. “Hence, the idea of our world thinning. It is expanding at a rate that is far too fast for what it was meant to be and eventually, it will tear.”
“What happens when it tears?” I asked, hearing the tremble in my voice. No one seemed to want to answer. The contemplation of such a thing one in which couldn’t be voiced out loud. Not without confirming just how precarious the future was becoming. I looked towards Belladonna though, knowing that if any of them were to say it, it would be her.
“Then whatever is out there, will come pouring in and life as we know it, will no longer be supported.”
[[Next|Chapter Four 1]]
“What if the power still transferred,” I suggested. “It skipped over the Baron because of the rules and for whatever reason, didn’t go to Milo and Hazel. There could have still been someone nearby. If the Baron had brought anyone with her that night it could have gone to them? Or maybe someone was even coming to the apothecary and was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“There are endless possibilities of what could or could not be happening,” Belladonna said. “Speculation will get us very little. All we know is that the gates are being triggered. Is it our only problem? It is doubtful. But it is a problem.”
“How would you trigger a gate?”
“We don’t know,” Gabriel said. “But something is certainly triggering them. Gates are opening at a frequency that we cannot control. These are not simple shoppers that are coming into our world, curious of our wares, returning home when they are done. The gates are opening to dying worlds and letting in people who are fleeing.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I understood that there was an element of chaos to it. Especially with gates opening in the middle of the street. But at the very least, at least they knew they were saving people’s lives.
Milo sighed from the corner of the shop. The sound startled me as I looked at him, hidden in shadow. “It is. But the world is thinning.”
“Thinning?”
Belladonna rolled her eyes. “Milo, dear, stop skulking and come back to join the table.”
For a moment I was certain he was not going to listen to her. I didn’t know what that meant when someone refused a woman like Belladonna but it caused my spine to straighten and fingers to flex against my knees. But, Milo emerged from the shadows, sitting next to Hazel. I watched as he leaned forward, kissing her cheek. In turn, she held his hand, squeezing it tight.
Milo sighed tiredly. The boyish charm was gone from his face and instead, he looked like a man that was worn entirely too thin. “The walls of the Night Market are thinning. With each new gate that opens, the market has to stretch to accommodate more and more people. At this point, I doubt there is even a way to tell how big the world has grown.
Gabriel nodded in confirmation. “We have most of the populated areas mapped out but I am afraid once we get into the more lawless territory, we lose sight of how far civilization stretches.”
“Worlds are not meant to do this, of course,” Belladonna said. “Hence, the idea of our world thinning. It is expanding at a rate that is far too fast for what it was meant to be and eventually, it will tear.”
“What happens when it tears?” I asked, hearing the tremble in my voice. No one seemed to want to answer. The contemplation of such a thing one in which couldn’t be voiced out loud. Not without confirming just how precarious the future was becoming. I looked towards Belladonna though, knowing that if any of them were to say it, it would be her.
“Then whatever is out there, will come pouring in and life as we know it, will no longer be supported.”
[[Next|Chapter Four 1]]
My heart dropped.
The Night Market was dying. Unexpected sorrow filled me at the thought of the paper lanterns swinging up above, blinking out. Ripping in two and forever darkening the streets. The people that wandered the alley’s in patchwork skirts and shimmering tunics, gone forever. The canopies, the stalls, all lying in rubble.
I didn’t want it to happen.
Lifting my head, I looked at them all in turn. “So what do we do?”
“We do not do anything,” Gabriel said. “The Velvet Guard is looking into this, rest assured.”
The roll of Belladonna’s eyes was prominent in the room. Her hands were clasped in her lap where she still sat, perched on the arm of the sofa, dangerously close to the man. “Oh really? And what are they doing exactly? Documentation?’
He glared at her icily. “It is not for you to know what the Velvet Guard is doing, Ms. Malady.”
She leaned forward, something in her eyes glinting. “You realize I could find out in an instant if I really wanted to.”
The smile he greeted her with was cruel and a twisted version of anything I had seen on his lips before. “I suggest you do not cross those lines,” he whispered. “I have given you a lot of liberties. It would be a shame if I had to come inspect some of your little blood houses.”
“Inspect away, Warden. Not all vampires have things to hide," she flashed her fangs as she spoke, two pointed white teeth dipping below her crimson lips. <<if $vampire == "false">> Suddenly, the danger that was Belladonna Malady, made far more sense to me.<</if>>
“I doubt that.”
“Do we need to separate you two?” Milo asked. His usual tone was gone. Tonight, there was something different about him. “Look, I’m not sure what the answer is to this entire thing. I don’t know if there is an answer. But all of us at this table can’t be expected to deal with this.”
Belladonna raised a brow. “So you’re agreeing to let the Velvet Guard handle it?”
“No, I’m not agreeing to it. But what I am saying is that Warden poo there has man power and the ability to order them to go about and gather intel. They are better able to deal with this. What is it that we’re supposed to do?”
“You all are missing the point.” Belladonna’s voice rang clearly above Milo’s, demanding that we listen. “We shouldn’t be asking what we can do. We should be asking what ?they can do.”
I felt all eyes turn to me.
[[(Startled) I don’t even know if my name is my name]]
[[I’ll help however I can. I just don’t want to do this alone]]
[[This can’t all just be put on my shoulders]]“What?” I looked between all of them, feeling anxiety curl at my spine. “I don’t even know if $name is my real name,” I told them.
“Which makes you perfect.” Belladonna purred.
Hazel scooted to the edge of her seat. Intrigue colored her eyes as she regarded the woman. “What are you talking about, Belladonna.”
“The Night Market is made up of ridiculous rules and even if we wished to change them, for some odd reason we cannot. The magic here is sentient and will not allow it, correct?”
“Get to the point, Ms. Malady,” Gabriel growled. She ignored him.
“There is one rule for the Gatekeeper that has been put in place. I have been doing my research. One that I am doubtful even the Barons are aware of. A name keeper. Someone who is allowed to have the name of the Gatekeeper and thus can discover their identity.”
Milo laughed. “What kind of fucking dumb caveat is that?”
“One that is obviously effective given how you have to go about doing it,” Belladonna parroted. “Each of the Barons have to agree to the name keeper and give up part of their power, placing it in a ring. A signet if you will. The Barons themselves cannot be the name keeper due to again, it giving them too much power, but they do need to all agree.”
“Something that the Barons have never been able to do their entire life,” Gabriel groaned.
“Precisely.”
“But I thought they wanted the identity of the Gatekeeper shown.” I said. “Why wouldn’t they do this?”
“The power they give up is permanent and if there is one thing about the Barons, they all fear being weak. Some will not give it up because it will jeopardize their holding. Others won’t do it because they have no guarantee the other Barons will hold to the deal either. Which then makes them a weak Baron ripe for the taking. And we all remember the bloodbath those situations incite.”
[[How does this translate to needing my help?]]
[[Which one of you wants to become the name keeper then?]]
[[Say nothing. The politics of the Night Market were headache inducing]]“I’ll help however I can,” I told them firmly. If there was something in my power to do, I would be remiss not to. They had all so effortlessly offered me help. I couldn’t imagine not doing the same. “I just don’t want to do this alone.”
“Of course,” Hazel said, reaching out to rest her hand on the back of mine. “We wouldn’t make you do this by yourself.”
Next to her, Milo shook his head. “I think I’m failing to read between the lines here.”
“Such a shame that at this age you can’t read,” Belladonna pouted. Milo snorted at the comment, the words somehow putting his shoulders at ease.
Hazel scooted to the edge of her seat. Intrigue colored her eyes as she regarded the woman. “What are you talking about, Belladonna.”
“The Night Market is made up of ridiculous rules and even if we wished to change them, for some odd reason we cannot. The magic here is sentient and will not allow it, correct?”
“Get to the point, Ms. Malady,” Gabriel growled. She ignored him.
“There is one rule for the Gatekeeper that has been put in place. I have been doing my research. One that I am doubtful even the Barons are aware of. A name keeper. Someone who is allowed to have the name of the Gatekeeper and thus can discover their identity.”
Milo laughed. “What kind of fucking dumb caveat is that?”
“One that is obviously effective given how you have to go about doing it,” Belladonna parroted. “Each of the Barons have to agree to the name keeper and give up part of their power, placing it in a ring. A signet if you will. The Barons themselves cannot be the name keeper due to again, it giving them too much power, but they do need to all agree.”
“Something that the Barons have never been able to do their entire life,” Gabriel groaned.
“Precisely.”
“But I thought they wanted the identity of the Gatekeeper shown.” I said. “Why wouldn’t they do this?”
“The power they give up is permanent and if there is one thing about the Barons, they all fear being weak. Some will not give it up because it will jeopardize their holding. Others won’t do it because they have no guarantee the other Barons will hold to the deal either. Which then makes them a weak Baron ripe for the taking. And we all remember the bloodbath those situations incite.”
[[How does this translate to needing my help?]]
[[Which one of you wants to become the name keeper then?]]
[[Say nothing. The politics of the Night Market were headache inducing]]I shook my head. “You can’t put this on my shoulders. I know nothing about this world. I cannot be responsible for it.”
“Which is what makes you perfect,” Belladonna cooed.
Hazel scooted to the edge of her seat. Intrigue colored her eyes as she regarded the woman. “What are you talking about, Belladonna.”
“The Night Market is made up of ridiculous rules and even if we wished to change them, for some odd reason we cannot. The magic here is sentient and will not allow it, correct?”
“Get to the point, Ms. Malady,” Gabriel growled. She ignored him.
“There is one rule for the Gatekeeper that has been put in place. I have been doing my research. One that I am doubtful even the Barons are aware of. A name keeper. Someone who is allowed to have the name of the Gatekeeper and thus can discover their identity.”
Milo laughed. “What kind of fucking dumb caveat is that?”
“One that is obviously effective given how you have to go about doing it,” Belladonna parroted. “Each of the Barons have to agree to the name keeper and give up part of their power, placing it in a ring. A signet if you will. The Barons themselves cannot be the name keeper due to again, it giving them too much power, but they do need to all agree.”
“Something that the Barons have never been able to do their entire life,” Gabriel groaned.
“Precisely.”
“But I thought they wanted the identity of the Gatekeeper shown.” I said. “Why wouldn’t they do this?”
“The power they give up is permanent and if there is one thing about the Barons, they all fear being weak. Some will not give it up because it will jeopardize their holding. Others won’t do it because they have no guarantee the other Barons will hold to the deal either. Which then makes them a weak Baron ripe for the taking. And we all remember the bloodbath those situations incite.”
[[How does this translate to needing my help?]]
[[Which one of you wants to become the name keeper then?]]
[[Say nothing. The politics of the Night Market were headache inducing]]“So why do you think I can help?” Part of me felt like asking simply in hopes that the solution would turn out much simpler than I was beginning to dread it being.
Belladonna smiled. “Because, dear heart. You are not a Baron. You have no stake in the Night Market. You just wish to go home. A pure innocent that will not be coming for the Baron's power as a means to your own gains. You will also reveal one of the greatest Baron mysteries there is.”
“And just how do you propose we convince the Barons of this plan?” Gabriel asked.
“Well that, I do not know. I have a contact with the Book Baron. I can gain an audience for us. And I am sure my contacts within the Baron of the Mists’ cathedral still stand. There are a few you could contact as well.” She was looking at Gabriel with a neutral expression. It was clearly guarded. It was also one that Gabriel refused to acknowledge.
“So wait,” Milo shook his head. “You just want $name to go around and take meetings with all the Barons and ask them nicely if they can have some of their power?”
“Essentially.”
“You’re going to get ?them killed, Belladonna,” he said.
She sighed, looking put out over the dramatics as she examined her nails, clearly already decided about my position in this little scheme of hers. “Which is why we go about this properly. Through the right channels. Follow procedure. And not once, let ?them be alone with a Baron. We are all savvy in our own rights. I’m sure we can pool our resources and each take $name to the Baron we would be best suited to deal with.”
“No,” Milo said. “Absolutely not.”
Hazel was looking at me. I had gone silent as I listened to them bicker about my life. The role I would have. It felt set in stone already. The incident of my missing memories suddenly a back seat to what was playing out before us.
“We should let $name decide.” While Hazel’s voice was soft, it still cut across the room, silencing the others.
Gabriel nodded in agreement. “Ultimately it will be $name ‘s decision. But however this goes, we will be following procedure. I am not going about this the wrong way and stepping on a Baron’s toes due to an old rule within Night Market magic.”
“Well,” Belladonna’s voice was a touch tighter. “What have you, dear heart. Will you do it?”
[[Of course I will]]
[[I will help but I still want to find out why I am here]]
[[I don’t really know if I have an option not to]]“Well then which one of you wants to become the name keeper?” I asked.
Belladonna grinned. It was the look of a predator that had just caught her prey. “Oh, no, my sweetling. You will be the one becoming the name keeper. Not us.”
“I don’t know the Market at all,” I protested. “What makes you even think I’m right for the job?”
Belladonna smiled. “Because, dear heart. You are not a Baron. You have no stake in the Night Market. You just wish to go home. A pure innocent that will not be coming for the Baron's power as a means to your own gains. You will also reveal one of the greatest Baron mysteries there is.”
“And just how do you propose we convince the Barons of this plan?” Gabriel asked.
“Well that, I do not know. I have a contact with the Book Baron. I can gain an audience for us. And I am sure my contacts within the Baron of the Mists’ cathedral still stand. There are a few you could contact as well.” She was looking at Gabriel with a neutral expression. It was clearly guarded. It was also one that Gabriel refused to acknowledge.
“So wait,” Milo shook his head. “You just want $name to go around and take meetings with all the Barons and ask them nicely if they can have some of their power?”
“Essentially.”
“You’re going to get ?them killed, Belladonna,” he said.
She sighed, looking put out over the dramatics as she examined her nails, clearly already decided about my position in this little scheme of hers. “Which is why we go about this properly. Through the right channels. Follow procedure. And not once, let ?them be alone with a Baron. We are all savvy in our own rights. I’m sure we can pool our resources and each take $name to the Baron we would be best suited to deal with.”
“No,” Milo said. “Absolutely not.”
Hazel was looking at me. I had gone silent as I listened to them bicker about my life. The role I would have. It felt set in stone already. The incident of my missing memories suddenly a back seat to what was playing out before us.
“We should let $name decide.” While Hazel’s voice was soft, it still cut across the room, silencing the others.
Gabriel nodded in agreement. “Ultimately it will be $name ‘s decision. But however this goes, we will be following procedure. I am not going about this the wrong way and stepping on a Baron’s toes due to an old rule within Night Market magic.”
“Well,” Belladonna’s voice was a touch tighter. “What have you, dear heart. Will you do it?”
[[Of course I will]]
[[I will help but I still want to find out why I am here]]
[[I don’t really know if I have an option not to]]I could feel the headache forming. It throbbed right behind my eyes, shooting down the side of my face. The politics of the Market were convoluted at best and made the kind of sense that at one point, maybe worked, but now felt like tradition for tradition’s sake.
“Dear heart,” Belladonna said softly. “You are imperative to this situation. You are not a Baron. You have no stake in the Night Market. You just wish to go home. A pure innocent that will not be coming for the Baron's power as a means to your own gains. You will also reveal one of the greatest Baron mysteries there is.”
“And just how do you propose we convince the Barons of this plan?” Gabriel asked.
“Well that, I do not know. I have a contact with the Book Baron. I can gain an audience for us. And I am sure my contacts within the Baron of the Mists’ cathedral still stand. There are a few you could contact as well.” She was looking at Gabriel with a neutral expression. It was clearly guarded. It was also one that Gabriel refused to acknowledge.
“So wait,” Milo shook his head. “You just want $name to go around and take meetings with all the Barons and ask them nicely if they can have some of their power?”
“Essentially.”
“You’re going to get ?them killed, Belladonna,” he said.
She sighed, looking put out over the dramatics as she examined her nails, clearly already decided about my position in this little scheme of hers. “Which is why we go about this properly. Through the right channels. Follow procedure. And not once, let ?them be alone with a Baron. We are all savvy in our own rights. I’m sure we can pool our resources and each take $name to the Baron we would be best suited to deal with.”
“No,” Milo said. “Absolutely not.”
Hazel was looking at me. I had gone silent as I listened to them bicker about my life. The role I would have. It felt set in stone already. The incident of my missing memories suddenly a back seat to what was playing out before us.
“We should let $name decide.” While Hazel’s voice was soft, it still cut across the room, silencing the others.
Gabriel nodded in agreement. “Ultimately it will be $name ‘s decision. But however this goes, we will be following procedure. I am not going about this the wrong way and stepping on a Baron’s toes due to an old rule within Night Market magic.”
“Well,” Belladonna’s voice was a touch tighter. “What have you, dear heart. Will you do it?”
[[Of course I will]]
[[I will help but I still want to find out why I am here]]
[[I don’t really know if I have an option not to]]“Of course I will,” I said. “If I can find who the Gatekeeper is, then I can unlock my memories and maybe figure out how to get home. Maybe even find out why I was taken hear to begin with.”
Belladonna clapped her hands. Three quick bursts that suddenly made the shadows in the room recede to the far corners and the fire I hadn’t known was dwindling, roar to life once more. “Then it is settled. I’ll put in the proper paperwork to get us an audience with the Baron of the Books first. I only suggest him because he will be more amenable. He absolutely hates being a Baron due to the politics and will most likely give us the magic without asking due to him not wanting to listen to our plight.”
“I need to go take some blankets and food to the refugees,” Hazel said, gathering the empty tea cups and the half drank pot. “They’re running low on supplies.”
“You going to be okay walking there?” Milo asked.
She nodded. “This is important. We’ll just take the back roads please? You are coming with me, right?”
Standing, Milo nodded, rubbing a hand down his face. “Of course. Can do it alone if you don’t have a construct ready.”
Gabriel frowned at that. “A construct. As in, a magical one?”
Hazel started gathering the teacups, brushing by the comment. “I don’t like leaving the shop, Warden. Sending a construct is safer.”
“It is still magic, Ms. Albright.”
“Is it?” she blinked at him, her eyes wide and innocent. I could see the way Gabriel ground his teeth in the face of such blatant denial.
“Warden,” Belladonna sang, switching the subject. “Why don’t you take me to the gates that you know of so I can look at the magical signatures. See if we can discern anything from them. Perhaps if we can find a thread of the same magic, we might be able to narrow down when the next ones will be opening and what their triggers will be.”
“I can do that on my own,” Gabriel said, fastening his sword to his side once more.
“You can’t. Your angelic eyes do not see the way mine do and you know that. And from what I recall, you don’t employ vampires within the Velvet Guard.”
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at Hazel. “Will you speak to the refugees, Ms. Albright? See if any of them have similar stories. Perhaps the trigger is on their side of the world. Not ours.”
Hazel nodded eagerly. “Yes. That’s– why didn’t I think of that before? Of course. We will speak to them.”
Milo looked at me. “Where you going?”
“Oh,” Hazel looked at me. “Yes. You should probably come with one of us. I’m not sure how often you should be left alone.”
“Am I not safe?” Just as I was beginning to think of these walls as a sanctuary, I had learned of the blood that soaked these floors and the possibility of it happening again.
“For now I am sure you are,” Gabriel said. “Though if it starts getting around what we are planning to do, I am unsure if that will hold true.”
[[Go with Milo and Hazel]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna]]
“I’ll help,” I responded slowly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying to find out what has happened to me. My home is still just as important as it was before I knew all of this.”
Belladonna clapped her hands. Three quick bursts that suddenly made the shadows in the room recede to the far corners and the fire I hadn’t known was dwindling, roar to life once more. “Then it is settled. I’ll put in the proper paperwork to get us an audience with the Baron of the Books first. I only suggest him because he will be more amenable. He absolutely hates being a Baron due to the politics and will most likely give us the magic without asking due to him not wanting to listen to our plight.”
“I need to go take some blankets and food to the refugees,” Hazel said, gathering the empty tea cups and the half drank pot. “They’re running low on supplies.”
“You going to be okay walking there?” Milo asked.
She nodded. “This is important. We’ll just take the back roads please? You are coming with me, right?”
Standing, Milo nodded, rubbing a hand down his face. “Of course. Can do it alone if you don’t have a construct ready.”
Gabriel frowned at that. “A construct. As in, a magical one?”
Hazel started gathering the teacups, brushing by the comment. “I don’t like leaving the shop, Warden. Sending a construct is safer.”
“It is still magic, Ms. Albright.”
“Is it?” she blinked at him, her eyes wide and innocent. I could see the way Gabriel ground his teeth in the face of such blatant denial.
“Warden,” Belladonna sang, switching the subject. “Why don’t you take me to the gates that you know of so I can look at the magical signatures. See if we can discern anything from them. Perhaps if we can find a thread of the same magic, we might be able to narrow down when the next ones will be opening and what their triggers will be.”
“I can do that on my own,” Gabriel said, fastening his sword to his side once more.
“You can’t. Your angelic eyes do not see the way mine do and you know that. And from what I recall, you don’t employ vampires within the Velvet Guard.”
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at Hazel. “Will you speak to the refugees, Ms. Albright? See if any of them have similar stories. Perhaps the trigger is on their side of the world. Not ours.”
Hazel nodded eagerly. “Yes. That’s– why didn’t I think of that before? Of course. We will speak to them.”
Milo looked at me. “Where you going?”
“Oh,” Hazel looked at me. “Yes. You should probably come with one of us. I’m not sure how often you should be left alone.”
“Am I not safe?” Just as I was beginning to think of these walls as a sanctuary, I had learned of the blood that soaked these floors and the possibility of it happening again.
“For now I am sure you are,” Gabriel said. “Though if it starts getting around what we are planning to do, I am unsure if that will hold true.”
[[Go with Milo and Hazel]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna]]
“I don’t really feel like I have an option not to,” I said. Whether that was because it was clear that Belladonna had already decided this for me, or because the state of their world was somehow being placed on my shoulders, I did not know.
Belladonna clapped her hands. Three quick bursts that suddenly made the shadows in the room recede to the far corners and the fire I hadn’t known was dwindling, roar to life once more. “Then it is settled. I’ll put in the proper paperwork to get us an audience with the Baron of the Books first. I only suggest him because he will be more amenable. He absolutely hates being a Baron due to the politics and will most likely give us the magic without asking due to him not wanting to listen to our plight.”
“I need to go take some blankets and food to the refugees,” Hazel said, gathering the empty tea cups and the half drank pot. “They’re running low on supplies.”
“You going to be okay walking there?” Milo asked.
She nodded. “This is important. We’ll just take the back roads please? You are coming with me, right?”
Standing, Milo nodded, rubbing a hand down his face. “Of course. Can do it alone if you don’t have a construct ready.”
Gabriel frowned at that. “A construct. As in, a magical one?”
Hazel started gathering the teacups, brushing by the comment. “I don’t like leaving the shop, Warden. Sending a construct is safer.”
“It is still magic, Ms. Albright.”
“Is it?” she blinked at him, her eyes wide and innocent. I could see the way Gabriel ground his teeth in the face of such blatant denial.
“Warden,” Belladonna sang, switching the subject. “Why don’t you take me to the gates that you know of so I can look at the magical signatures. See if we can discern anything from them. Perhaps if we can find a thread of the same magic, we might be able to narrow down when the next ones will be opening and what their triggers will be.”
“I can do that on my own,” Gabriel said, fastening his sword to his side once more.
“You can’t. Your angelic eyes do not see the way mine do and you know that. And from what I recall, you don’t employ vampires within the Velvet Guard.”
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at Hazel. “Will you speak to the refugees, Ms. Albright? See if any of them have similar stories. Perhaps the trigger is on their side of the world. Not ours.”
Hazel nodded eagerly. “Yes. That’s– why didn’t I think of that before? Of course. We will speak to them.”
Milo looked at me. “Where you going?”
“Oh,” Hazel looked at me. “Yes. You should probably come with one of us. I’m not sure how often you should be left alone.”
“Am I not safe?” Just as I was beginning to think of these walls as a sanctuary, I had learned of the blood that soaked these floors and the possibility of it happening again.
“For now I am sure you are,” Gabriel said. “Though if it starts getting around what we are planning to do, I am unsure if that will hold true.”
[[Go with Milo and Hazel]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna]]
“I’ll go with Milo and Hazel,” I said. I wanted to check on the refugees. There was a strong urge to make sure they were okay. Their circumstance mirrored my own so fully that I felt as if I couldn’t turn my back on them.
“Splendid,” Belladonna clapped her hands together, rising from the settee and looking at Gabriel. “Shall we, pet?”
Gabriel said nothing to her, yet it was clear to see the sheer amount of will it was taking for him not to snap. And Belladonna knew it.
Looking at Hazel, he ignored the woman next to him as best he could. “If you find anything of importance, immediately get a message to me. Otherwise, we can meet back up tomorrow and trade what information we have found.”
“Of course,” Hazel said. She looked nervously at Belladonna. The woman was standing idly by the door, looking bored with the preliminaries. “Are you going to be alright?” Hazel asked softly.
Gabriel’s back was straight and his eyes emotionless. “Of course, Ms. Albright. Why ever would you think I wouldn’t be.”
Again, Hazel’s eyes ticked forward, but she chose not to press it further. “No reason.”
“Well then, I hope you uncover something useful in your endeavor. And that the refugees are all settling in just fine.” <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpit">>Taking a moment, he looked at me. “You will get out of work today, but I expect you to report tomorrow evening for paper work.”
“After everything that is going on? You’re really going to buckle down on that?” I looked at him incredulously. The market was dying, I was going to have to go speak to the Barons, but he still expected me to report to work.
“I take duties very seriously. I’ll come collect you tomorrow if you do not make your way down to my office.”<</if>>
When he turned to leave, he didn’t look at Belladonna but instead marched right by her. She tossed a pointed grin over her shoulder before she disappeared through the open door, a mass of darkness and fluttering wings.
[[That was interesting]]
[[They have a history don’t they]]
[[Should they really be alone with each other?]]
<<set $chapterfour to "ruins">>
<<set $chapfour to "ruins">>I wanted to see the gates up close. As of yet, I hadn’t gotten to examine one thoroughly. They were still an illusive object mainly talked about at this point, despite me having probably walked by them a dozen or so times.
“I think I’ll go with the two of you.”
Who better to be traveling the Night Market with than by the side of the man who kept it safe and the woman who knew everyone's darkest secrets. Upon the decision, something settled in the pit of my gut, however. Suddenly, the instructions to keep my head low, felt like a decision that was slowly being torn to shreds.
“Splendid,” Belladonna cooed, flashing her sharp teeth. She rose from the arm of the settee and looked at Gabriel. “Do we need to wait for you to do warden things before you escort us around the market, pet?”
When Gabriel rose, it was with a squared set of shoulders and a firm line to his jaw. “Ms. Malady, please refrain from addressing me with anything other than respect.”
“Is pet not respectful?” she mused. The entire demeanor of the woman I had met before was shifting. Back in her office, she had been a woman of poise and grace. Here, there was something else going on. The image of the put together woman was still prominent but now it was laced with a playfulness that was beginning to feel like a specific design to get under Gabriel’s skin.
“You can go back to your district if you are going to act like this, Ms. Malady,” he growled.
It was a tone that she responded to with a feral grin. “You need me,” she said slowly. Softly. “You can’t see the gates alone, Warden.”
There was nothing he could say to that. They stood only a small breath apart, their statures comparable and their eyes glinting the icy silver grey of his and the heated molten gold of her own.
I cleared my throat.
Gabriel snapped his attention back to me while Belladonna only grinned. A battle that I was not entirely clear on, had been won.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice monotone and his posture composed.
[[Yes. Of course]]
[[Is there something I need to be aware of?]]
[[Are you two okay?]]
<<set $chapterfour to "gates">>
<<set $chapfour to "gates">>“Yes,” I said, standing and walking towards him. “Whenever you two are.”
“Good. The quicker we discover the details of what is going on, the better off the market will be.” It was said with such gusto that I wasn’t sure how anyone could argue with him. Except Milo of course.
“It’s going to take some time, Warden man,” Milo said. I had forgotten that him and Hazel were still there. Both of them had resumed sitting, Milo was leaning back with his hands laced behind his head while Hazel was staring at the exchange with wide eyes. Neither Gabriel nor Belladonna responded to Milo. Instead, Gabriel turned on his heel and headed towards the front door.
“Hazel,” Belladonna started. “As always, your spread of refreshments was impeccable. Please, come by my office when you have some free time. You have never taken me up on my offer.”
“Oh,” Hazel stuttered, her cheeks darkening. “That’s okay. I uh - I’m a very busy woman. Very busy.”
“And what about me?” Milo grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Invitation stand with me?”
“Of course, Milo.” Belladonna stepped forth, kicking his legs off the table so she could stand between them. He looked up at her, something flashing in his eyes as she turned the game on him. Slowly, Belladonna leaned down, the folds of her dress opening entirely causing Milo to swallow thickly. She ran the back of one lacquered nail down his cheek. “Come speak with me anytime,” she purred. “I charge up front.”
Straightening, she turned and walked past me, her hips swaying. Both Milo and Hazel watched her leave the shop.
“Be careful,” Hazel said finally. “Those two can get a bit snippy with each other, but they won’t let any harm come to you. Just, maybe walk in between them. And - and don’t ask too many personal questions.”
I paused, making sure they were both well out of earshot before I spoke. “Seriously. What happened between the two of them?”
Milo snorted with laughter. “That one, I will leave to good ol’ Gabe to tell. I may not like the man, but I won’t rat him out.”
Hazel tried to give me a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine.”
Given what I had just witnessed, I really wasn’t so sure about that.
[[Next|Chapter Four 2]]
I looked back and forth between Gabriel and Belladonna. “Is there something I need to be aware of?” If this was how they were now, I could only imagine how the evening would progress.
“No,” Gabriel said curtly. “Now, I would like to leave immediately, if that is alright with everyone. The quicker we discover the details surrounding this situation, the better off the market will be.”
“It’s going to take some time, Warden man,” Milo said. I had forgotten that him and Hazel were still there. Both of them had resumed sitting, Milo was leaning back with his hands laced behind his head while Hazel was staring at the exchange with wide eyes. Neither Gabriel nor Belladonna responded to Milo. Instead, Gabriel turned on his heel and headed towards the front door.
“Hazel,” Belladonna started. “As always, your spread of refreshments was impeccable. Please, come by my office when you have some free time. You have never taken me up on my offer.”
“Oh,” Hazel stuttered, her cheeks darkening. “That’s okay. I uh - I’m a very busy woman. Very busy.”
“And what about me?” Milo grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Invitation stand with me?”
“Of course, Milo.” Belladonna stepped forth, kicking his legs off the table so she could stand between them. He looked up at her, something flashing in his eyes as she turned the game on him. Slowly, Belladonna leaned down, the folds of her dress opening entirely causing Milo to swallow thickly. She ran the back of one lacquered nail down his cheek. “Come speak with me anytime,” she purred. “I charge up front.”
Straightening, she turned and walked past me, her hips swaying. Both Milo and Hazel watched her leave the shop.
“Be careful,” Hazel said finally. “Those two can get a bit snippy with each other, but they won’t let any harm come to you. Just, maybe walk in between them. And - and don’t ask too many personal questions.”
I paused, making sure they were both well out of earshot before I spoke. “Seriously. What happened between the two of them?”
Milo snorted with laughter. “That one, I will leave to good ol’ Gabe to tell. I may not like the man, but I won’t rat him out.”
Hazel tried to give me a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine.”
Given what I had just witnessed, I really wasn’t so sure about that.
[[Next|Chapter Four 2]]
“Is everything okay between the two of you?” The animosity had spiked the moment Belladonna entered the shop. Gabriel looked uncomfortable, Belladonna looked as if she was enjoying her role, and Milo looked fed up with both of them.
“We’re fine,” Gabriel said curtly. “Now, I would like to leave immediately, if that is alright with everyone. The quicker we discover the details surrounding this situation, the better off the market will be.”
“It’s going to take some time, Warden man,” Milo said. I had forgotten that him and Hazel were still there. Both of them had resumed sitting, Milo was leaning back with his hands laced behind his head while Hazel was staring at the exchange with wide eyes. Neither Gabriel nor Belladonna responded to Milo. Instead, Gabriel turned on his heel and headed towards the front door.
“Hazel,” Belladonna started. “As always, your spread of refreshments was impeccable. Please, come by my office when you have some free time. You have never taken me up on my offer.”
“Oh,” Hazel stuttered, her cheeks darkening. “That’s okay. I uh - I’m a very busy woman. Very busy.”
“And what about me?” Milo grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Invitation stand with me?”
“Of course, Milo.” Belladonna stepped forth, kicking his legs off the table so she could stand between them. He looked up at her, something flashing in his eyes as she turned the game on him. Slowly, Belladonna leaned down, the folds of her dress opening entirely causing Milo to swallow thickly. She ran the back of one lacquered nail down his cheek. “Come speak with me anytime,” she purred. “I charge up front.”
Straightening, she turned and walked past me, her hips swaying. Both Milo and Hazel watched her leave the shop.
“Be careful,” Hazel said finally. “Those two can get a bit snippy with each other, but they won’t let any harm come to you. Just, maybe walk in between them. And - and don’t ask too many personal questions.”
I paused, making sure they were both well out of earshot before I spoke. “Seriously. What happened between the two of them?”
Milo snorted with laughter. “That one, I will leave to good ol’ Gabe to tell. I may not like the man, but I won’t rat him out.”
Hazel tried to give me a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine.”
Given what I had just witnessed, I really wasn’t so sure about that.
[[Next|Chapter Four 2]]
I found the two of them standing silently just outside the gate to the apothecary. The stone arch was a barrier between the rest of the world and what I was coming to think of as my home. Gabriel was looking ahead, his eyes cast down the burnt alley, while Belladonna was examining her nails.
“We do not have to go that way,” she said, sing-song like.
“There is no other appropriate passage,” Gabriel was countering.
“I wasn’t going to suggest an appropriate passage. I was going to suggest I just fly us up and over.”
His eyes were sharp as he looked at her. “You know full well that type of magic is not sanctioned.”
“Is it magic if it is an innate ability? Shall a somersault now be deemed illegal by the Velvet Guard,” she mused.
I chose this moment to step in, literally putting my body within the space between the two of them. “So what exactly are we looking for again?” I asked, hoping to draw their attention towards me as opposed to each other.
“The essence of the gateways,” Belladonna said, her heels already clipping down the alley. She looked over her shoulder and sighed impatiently. With a gesture of his arm, Gabriel motioned for me to walk forward.
“You see,” Belladonna began, “all gateways leave a trace of themselves. They have to for the people that are coming and going. However, not all gateways make themselves known. Unless you are from that specific gate, it is rare that you’ll be able to see it. However, vampires, night wolves, the occasional nymph and satyr, can see these things from time to time. And lately, it has become nearly blinding with some of the gates.”
“I was told I would not be able to see my gate,” I said.
Belladonna frowned. “Who told you that?”
I glanced at Gabriel but said nothing.
Sighing, she shook her head. “There is a possibility you will not be able to see your gate but it is not set in stone. And the only reason I say that you may not is that you were thrust through without an explicit invitation. And, whoever brought you here, is not going to be making it easy for you to get home.”
“We do not know if someone brought them here, Ms. Malady,” Gabriel intoned.
“You do not, but I do.”
[[It seems pretty apparent that someone did]]
[[What do you think happened to me, Gabriel?]]
[[What do you mean you know, Belladonna?]]I could see the disapproval on Gabriel’s face and the rejection ready on his lips. “It seems apparent that someone did,” I said, cutting him off before he could counter Belladonna’s words.
He seemed to think upon this for a moment, stepping through the alley with cautious motions, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he peered into the broken buildings around him. “Why do you say that?” He directed his words towards me, seeking my opinion. <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">> Something I didn’t think was possible for him to do, given how we met.<</if>>
Since meeting Belladonna, I had been thinking on what she had said. When she had told me that she assumed I had been taken here, I had wanted to reject the very notion. But as I had lain in bed at night, listening to the wisps play, I had turned my thoughts towards the possibility.
“There isn’t another explanation I can think of,” I finally told him. “Wherever my life was before, whatever I had been doing, if I had meant to come here to serve my own purposes, there would be no reason to erase my memory. I had to have knowledge that someone wanted, or that someone didn’t want me to know. And I think I was brought to the one place that could take that from me.”
Next to me, Belladonna hid her smile in the shadows. But I could tell she was proud.
Gabriel on the other hand, sighed. “For your sake, I do hope you are wrong.”
His answer startled me. There was sadness hidden in his words. “Why do you say that?”
“Because, that means someone cared so little about you that they disregarded the life you had built. That is not a notion that sits right with me.”
I stared at him through the dark as we continued walking. His words were unexpected. Next to me, Belladonna’s smile of pride continued. Though this time, I didn’t think it was for me any longer.
[[Next|Chapter Four 3]]Before the two of them could get into another spat, I turned to Gabriel. “What do you think happened to me?” I asked. “You’ve never quite said. I’m sure you have a theory.”
“I have many theories. Though theories do not make truths.”
“But I wish to know,” I told him. “I understand that it might not be true, but while I am trying to figure out what happened to me, I want to collect as much information as possible.”
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, weighing the decision. Next to us, something skittered in the dark, a white hand climbing over the rim of a broken window. Shadows consumed it in a brief flutter of wings and it was there no more.
“I truly do not know how you have come to be,” he said, his voice tight and controlled. “I do know that your circumstance is stranger than any other I have witnessed. It is why I chose to process you.”
My head snapped towards him. “You mean…?”
“Warden’s do not usually process prisoners. But the circumstances about your gate were peculiar. In that your gate was not there. A guard was standing in the very spot you came through. Nothing even opened. You just suddenly appeared.”
I stared at him, not sure if I was appalled that I had not been given this information earlier or if it really mattered in the grand scheme of it all. “Then did I even come through a gate?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “But like I said, your situation was much more odd than I have seen before. So to answer your question, I do not know what happened to lead you to the Night Market. But I do suspect it is something we have not encountered before.”
[[Next|Chapter Four 3]]My gaze snapped up towards her then. The normally burnt out alley not bothering me at all as we wandered down the soot soaked streets. “How? How do you know?”
“Deduction,” she said nonchalant.
“So you don’t actually know,” Gabriel commented.
Belladonna ignored him. “There have occasionally been a few that have fallen through the gates without their knowledge. Dear little Milo is one of them. This is simply a by product of the masses. But, within the last few years, the amount of individuals ‘falling’ through have nearly quadrupled. It started one evening, with no warning, no rhyme or reason, and has not stopped.”
“That could just mean a malfunctioning gate,” I tried.
“It could. Yet each and every one of you that I have met, have the same affliction. No memory of their past. The ones who slipped through the cracks before remember their lives. Were desperate to get back to them because they truly knew what their lives entailed. All of you, however, are new born babes within the market. Easy to mold.”
[[I’m not easy to mold]]
[[I’m trying to stay true to myself]]“I am not easy to mold,” I said. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“And you don’t know anything about yourself either,” she said. “Dear heart, I am not here to anger you. I am here to give you truths that are not being given. You all hold the same magical signature. You all have had your memories eradicated. Gates are not capable of that. Nor do gates that span the entirety of the market, have the same signature about them. Someone is doing this. I just have not been able to suss out who.”
“I am not being manipulated, Belladonna,” I said firmly. My mind was my own. I may not have remembered my past, but my actions in the here and now were based on what I observed. What I felt. Not on simple suggestion from others.
Slowing her steps, she leveled her gaze at me, her tone serious and low. “For your sake, I do truly hope you are not. I really do.”
[[Next|Chapter Four 3]]There was something about what she was saying that didn’t sit right with me. Deep down, I knew it was due to there being far more truth in her words than anyone cared to admit. It would be too easy to be manipulated, given my position, and I just had to trust that the people I had surrounded myself with, meant me no harm.
“I’m trying to stay true to myself,” I said softly. I hoped that I was. It was a hard statement to make, however, when I didn’t know who that person may be.
“I believe you, dear heart,” she said. “I am also here to say that others will see that kindness and use it to their advantage.”
“The result should not be to harden a heart just to stave off the possibility,” Gabriel countered. There was something bitter in his words.
“You are not one to speak about a hardened heart, Gabriel Caine,” she remarked. “Dear heart,” her voice softened when it turned back to me. More of the lilting tone I was used to. “I only caution you to be wary. Nothing more.”
I nodded, thinking upon her words and wondering just who I was going to need to be wary of.
[[Next|Chapter Four 3]]
The usual whispers that accompanied the alley began to filter through, no doubt commenting on the Warden and the courtesan idly traversing their home. When both Gabriel and Belladonna turned to look within the ruins though, the whispers began to fade. I couldn’t help but notice the silver gray light that flickered through one side of the alley, and the deep molten gold that burned through the other.
When I turned to the two of them, neither looked as if they were doing anything.
“Why haven’t you brought them to where they came through, pet?” Belladonna asked. “I would have figured that to be one of the first things to be done.”
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpit">>”No, the first thing he did was try and throw me in the flesh pits,” I said, holding up the black bands still staining my wrists.
Belladonna’s nose wrinkled. “I did notice those. I was hoping it was merely a mistake. Not some sort of exertion of power.”<</if>>
“The situation surrounding $name and their appearance in the market has been one I have wished to take delicately,” he said firmly. “But, if there is merit into taking ?them to where they came through, then we can do so tonight.”
I nodded. Seeing where it was I had been found could have the potential of jogging a memory. Or even revealing something that Belladonna or the Warden could perhaps shed some light on. “That would be appreciated,” I told him.
The alleyway ended with little fanfare. I couldn’t help but notice how the spirits recoiled into the burnt out buildings. Part of me wondered if not even they desired to mess with Belladonna.
“Lead the way, Warden,” she said.
“What? You don’t know where ?they came through? Your little spies didn’t divulge the secret?”
“I was simply trying to make you look more competent but if you would like me to guide you I can.”
He sneered at her before stalking off down the beginnings of the alleyway beyond, the lanterns there gold and green.
“There are a few known gates along the way,” he called over his shoulder. “We will check them out first.”
Belladonna smirked as she watched him walk forward, taking her own steps, measured and slow.
[[To Belladonna: Did you know Malcolm well?]]
[[To Gabriel: Do you believe Hazel when she says Malcolm will come home?]]The alley was like much of the others I had seen spiraling off from the three-tiered fountain. I wondered if when it was designed, they were all plopped down at once. Were there even people who built these walls or did they just appear one evening when needed.
The Warden walked on ahead of us, ever vigilant in the nearly deserted alley. I walked by Belladonna’s side, watching the way the woman interacted with the world around her. It was apparent that she was taking in her surroundings. Eyes just as sharp as Gabriel’s. But she looked more relaxed. Her movements fluid and graceful. I realized now how distracting they were, a ploy to keep people’s eyes where she needed them to be.
As we continued to walk, I thought about what had been revealed at the apothecary. About the man that died within that very lobby and the sister that sat, waiting for his return.
“Did you know Malcolm?” I asked Belladonna curiously. “I mean, I know you knew of him, but did you know him well?”
“Are you asking if he was a client?” she smirked.
“No,” I said quickly. Then, “Yes?”
She laughed a little. “I did not know Malcolm Albright well. I knew him in passing, but our conversations were very brief. From what little I did converse with him, he was a good man. Kind. Firm in his beliefs. A strong individual in the heart and mind.”
“You sound as if you respected him.”
“I respect all who know themselves and do not waver on who they are,” Belladonna said. “It was a shame to hear of his passing. Though I suspect a Gatekeeper’s life is brief. Why do you ask, dear heart?”
I shrugged. “I live in a room very near the one he grew up in. It’s hard not to be curious about the man.”
“The Albright’s have always had a sad tale.”
I thought of Hazel and the smile that often lit the room in the morning. “I’m glad Hazel has made it out. At least somewhat.”
“Has she?”
She gave me no time to answer. Only left me with the musing, picking up her speed so as not to lose Gabriel.
[[Next|Chapter Four Gate 1]]
The alley was like much of the others I had seen spiraling off from the three-tiered fountain. I wondered if when it was designed, they were all plopped down at once. Were there even people who built these walls or did they just appear one evening when needed.
I fell in step next to Gabriel. His eyes were forward and sharp. Despite the alley being deserted, I knew he was wary of whoever would come our way. There was something different that lurked in the air now that we had said out loud our plans. The intention to discover what was behind the thinning of the Night Market felt like a secret that painted a target on all our backs.
But Gabriel was safe. There was a certain comfort that came with walking next to a man that I knew the market feared. <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">> It was sometimes hard to see him as the one that had nearly sold me for parts.<</if>>
“Gabriel,” I began. “Hazel said that she thinks Malcolm will come home. That the Night Market has a claim on him. Do you believe her?”
“Belief is a difficult thing,” he responded. “If you believe in something, it is often times unshakable.”
“But what is it that you believe?”
“I believe, that if it is within the Albright’s ability for Malcolm to come home, one or both of them will find a way.”
<<if $celestial == "true">> “Does your Knowing have anything to say about this?” I asked hesitantly.
“Ms. Albright does not prescribe to the same belief system I do. But if she did, then I’m afraid that Mr. Albright is gone. Though he would be within a world that was better than this one.”
A world without his sister. It seemed as if it wouldn’t be a world he would enjoy at all.
“Don’t you ever question that though?” I asked. “That there is a world out there that is only accessible to us through death. That is better than the one we live.”
“I do not,” he said.
“But why?”
“Because I once lived within it’s walls.” <</if>>
Belladonna cleared her throat behind us. I watched as Gabriel’s shoulders tensed, and his footsteps picked up.
“Come. The first gate is not far.”
[[Next|Chapter Four Gate 1]]
The first gate we came to was in an offshoot of the alley we were wandering down. It opened into a large area filled with gilded cages. They hung suspended midair from glittering hooks that formed from nothing. Within each cage, small birdlike creatures chirped, their plumage bright spots of saturated color within a stone encased section of the market.
It was a quieter area than most that I had seen. Not as many wanderers through this section of the alleyway. Instead, several benches were scattered about, made from thick blocks of white stone, edged with dirt and ivy. The ground was not the typical cobblestone that I was used to and was instead stretches of different colored grass, all bent in one direction with small seeds balancing upon the tip of each blade.
“Do you remember which one?” Belladonna asked. She was refusing to take another step within the new section of the district, and was instead standing at the entrance, her feet firmly placed within the alley we had come from. “Figures you would go to the damn bird one first,” she muttered under her breath.
Ahead, Gabriel was either ignoring her, or had simply not heard her words. He was bent on one knee next to a bench, speaking in low tones to a figure sitting there, wrapped head to toe in warm muslin.
A bone hand snuck out from the folds, pointing towards the back cages. I startled at the sight of it. The skin was gone and the bone itself was bleach white aside from the tips which were stained with the yellow pollen of the grass beneath their feet.
Gabriel nodded his thanks before standing. “Will you be joining us, Ms. Malady?” he asked.
“You know very well I will not,” she snapped at him.
His smile was wide and unlike anything I had seen from him yet. “Pity. Just you and I then,” he said, looking at me.
The spot in question was not too far in. A cage, no bigger than my hand, sat overturned near a small lily pond. Its bars were chipped a green patina that shimmered with each sway of the grass blades beneath it. Several birds hopped around its open doors, pecking at the seeds and bathing in the pond next to it. None attempted to go in and gave the cage itself a wide berth.
“Do you see anything with it?” Gabriel asked.
[[I saw just a pretty cage]]
[[I saw a prison]]
[[I saw a symbol of hope]]I stared at it, hoping that something would strike me as different. But there was nothing. It was just a bird cage, formed together by old iron and a few fastenings. Shaking my head, I glanced at Gabriel. “It looks like a pretty cage.”
A flash of disappointment crossed his face but it was gone quickly.
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
“Please. Do not take my disappointment as a failure,” he amended. “I expected you would see as much. I had only hoped that perhaps there would be something more here. I am growing weary of finding so little while the days are growing shorter and shorter.”
Standing, he gestured to the cage and the open door that hung from its hinges. “This would be an example of a gate. An active one at that. Far as the keeper can tell, only animals have come through so far. Birds, if you would believe it.”
“The keeper?” I glanced back at the person with the bone hand.
“There are certain people within the market that watch the gates. They are employed by the Velvet Guard. The one back there is nameless and has never cared to talk to anyone but me. Though they do play a mean game of Biloudy.”
“What’s Biloudy?”
“Apologies. An ancient game of cards and dominoes where you bet your life.”
I blinked at him. “Are you serious.”
“In general, I am. Yes.”
Gabriel observed the gate with a cocked head and a discerning eye. “Now of course, the woman whom we need to actually have look at this gate is standing skittish in the alleyway. I do not know what we will gain from this moment other than the satisfaction that Belladonna Malady is not infallible.”
Looking over my shoulder, sure enough, Belladonna had not stepped an inch inside the aviary oasis. “Is she afraid of birds?” I asked.
“Deathly.”
Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the small little creatures hop around the blades of grass.
“Maybe I could go speak with her?”
He gestured towards Belladonna with a flourished hand. “You can surely try.”
[[Approach Belladonna firmly]]
[[Approach Belladonna comfortingly]]
[[Tell Belladonna that Gabriel is mocking her]]The bars of the bird cage were crafted to perfection. They were hearty steel that offered narrowed gaps barely big enough for a bird to stick their leg through. I knew that what I was looking at was a gate. Yet, it suddenly felt like so much more.
“I see a prison,” I told him, my voice raw. The silence that had been in the cell with me had clawed at my back. The longer I stared at the cage, the more I felt its looming presence lurking between each bar.
Next to me, Gabriel was still. I thought he would mock my words. Or at least correct me. But he was curious instead. “How so?” he asked.
“It is designed to keep people in. Even with the door wide open, look at the birds. They aren’t taking flight. They are staying near.” I swallowed. “It’s meant to contain”
“An interesting theory,” Gabriel mused. For whatever reason, he seemed to be taking my words to heart.
Standing, he gestured to the cage and the open door that hung from its hinges. “This would be an example of a gate. An active one at that. Far as the keeper can tell, only animals have come through so far. Birds, if you would believe it.”
“The keeper?” I glanced back at the person with the bone hand.
“There are certain people within the market that watch the gates. They are employed by the Velvet Guard. The one back there is nameless and has never cared to talk to anyone but me. Though they do play a mean game of Biloudy.”
“What’s Biloudy?”
“Apologies. An ancient game of cards and dominoes where you bet your life.”
I blinked at him. “Are you serious.”
“In general, I am. Yes.”
Gabriel observed the gate with a cocked head and a discerning eye. “Now of course, the woman whom we need to actually have look at this gate is standing skittish in the alleyway. I do not know what we will gain from this moment other than the satisfaction that Belladonna Malady is not infallible.”
Looking over my shoulder, sure enough, Belladonna had not stepped an inch inside the aviary oasis. “Is she afraid of birds?” I asked.
“Deathly.”
Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the small little creatures hop around the blades of grass.
“Maybe I could go speak with her?”
He gestured towards Belladonna with a flourished hand. “You can surely try.”
[[Approach Belladonna firmly]]
[[Approach Belladonna comfortingly]]
[[Tell Belladonna that Gabriel is mocking her]]The cage was old but had at the time of its making, been well constructed. The bars were evenly spaced and the floor within was clean. I knew it was a vessel, designed to keep the creatures it contained, barred from the outside world. But it lay on the ground. Open. Freeing those within. I realized now that the gates were similar. They offered a way out of a life that perhaps was not as freeing as it should have been.
The gate before me, this little bird cage of a disguise, was offering those on the other side another way of life.
“I see hope,” I told him. “A way to escape the life that you were born into. A way to choose.”
My whispered words seemed to shock him but he did not mock me or ask further. Instead, he looked pleased with my decision, nodding approvingly.
Standing, he gestured to the cage and the open door that hung from its hinges. “This would be an example of a gate. An active one at that. Far as the keeper can tell, only animals have come through so far. Birds, if you would believe it.”
“The keeper?” I glanced back at the person with the bone hand.
“There are certain people within the market that watch the gates. They are employed by the Velvet Guard. The one back there is nameless and has never cared to talk to anyone but me. Though they do play a mean game of Biloudy.”
“What’s Biloudy?”
“Apologies. An ancient game of cards and dominoes where you bet your life.”
I blinked at him. “Are you serious.”
“In general, I am. Yes.”
Gabriel observed the gate with a cocked head and a discerning eye. “Now of course, the woman whom we need to actually have look at this gate is standing skittish in the alleyway. I do not know what we will gain from this moment other than the satisfaction that Belladonna Malady is not infallible.”
Looking over my shoulder, sure enough, Belladonna had not stepped an inch inside the aviary oasis. “Is she afraid of birds?” I asked.
“Deathly.”
Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the small little creatures hop around the blades of grass.
“Maybe I could go speak with her?”
He gestured towards Belladonna with a flourished hand. “You can surely try.”
[[Approach Belladonna firmly]]
[[Approach Belladonna comfortingly]]
[[Tell Belladonna that Gabriel is mocking her]]I made my way back towards Belladonna who was all but sneering as a bird with four defined wings hopped near her feet. Its feathers were the deepest blue I had ever seen while its eyes were crimson.
“Filthy little creature,” she snarled.
I raised a brow towards her. “Not a fan of birds then?”
“Of course not. They smell and are unsightly. They hold no purpose within society.”
I stared at her for one long moment, trying not to laugh. A woman who was renowned as the embodiment of grace and wisdom within the Night Market, and she was falling apart at the sight of a bird.
“They’re kind of cute.”
She scoffed at that, the snort that came from her dislodging one perfect tendril of hair.
“We need you at the gate,” I told her firmly. We had come here because of her. She couldn’t just stand in the alley.
“Then Gabriel should have thought about that before bringing me here,” she said. “There are plenty of other gates. This one is not important.”
“But what if it is?” I countered.
“It’s not.”
“But… what if it is?”
Her eyes were sharp as she stared at me, thin slits of red that were zeroed in on my sudden press for information.
“Are you scared?” I asked.
The bark of laughter that escaped her was entirely unlady like and sent several of the birds scattering.
Uncrossing her arms, she hiked the silk of her dress upwards, as if the slit alone wasn’t already high enough, and stalked past me towards Gabriel. I followed after her, trying my hardest not to look amused at just how easy she had been played.
Stopping before the cage, she stared down at it and for a moment. I was almost certain she was going to kick it. Instead, she sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose.
“Anything?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes. Birds.”
He sighed, a weary sigh that proclaimed him to be near the end of his patience with her. “Anything else,” he asked through gritted teeth.
She rolled her eyes but did try again. Stepping forward, she straightened her back, and breathed in deep. I watched as her eyes fluttered, shinning a deeper gold, tinged with molten copper. Something caught her curiosity because when she stepped forward again, she knelt down next to the cage, unaware of the birds still hopping around the entrance.
“Is this one of the ones that appeared at random?”
“One of the first this moon cycle,” Gabriel said. “Birds have been pouring through. Dozens near the beginning but only stragglers now. I am assuming their world is close to dying.”
“There’s blood,” she said. “Lots of blood.”
[[Animal blood or something else?]]
[[How much of it?]]
[[Is it old or new?]]I made my way back towards Belladonna who was all but sneering as a bird with four defined wings hopped near her feet. Its feathers were the deepest blue I had ever seen while its eyes were crimson.
“Filthy little creature,” she snarled.
Stepping forward, I kept my voice low so no one around us would hear. Least of all, the birds. “I know you don’t like them,” I started. “And I’m sorry we’re here. But could you come look at the gate? For me? I want to get out of here just as much as you do.” I did not tell her that I wanted to get out of here because I was desperate to see the gate that I had emerged from.
Belladonna looked out at the sea of birds, tapping her foot incessantly on the ground. Her arms were crossed tightly in front of her and I could tell she was biting the inside of her cheek.
“I promise you,” I intoned. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
When she looked at me I could feel her ire and saw the way in which she rolled her eyes.
Uncrossing her arms, she hiked the silk of her dress upwards, as if the slit alone wasn’t already high enough, and stalked past me towards Gabriel. I followed after her, trying my hardest not to look amused at just how easy she had been played.
Stopping before the cage, she stared down at it and for a moment. I was almost certain she was going to kick it. Instead, she sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose.
“Anything?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes. Birds.”
He sighed, a weary sigh that proclaimed him to be near the end of his patience with her. “Anything else,” he asked through gritted teeth.
She rolled her eyes but did try again. Stepping forward, she straightened her back, and breathed in deep. I watched as her eyes fluttered, shinning a deeper gold, tinged with molten copper. Something caught her curiosity because when she stepped forward again, she knelt down next to the cage, unaware of the birds still hopping around the entrance.
“Is this one of the ones that appeared at random?”
“One of the first this moon cycle,” Gabriel said. “Birds have been pouring through. Dozens near the beginning but only stragglers now. I am assuming their world is close to dying.”
“There’s blood,” she said. “Lots of blood.”
[[Animal blood or something else?]]
[[How much of it?]]
[[Is it old or new?]]I made my way back towards Belladonna who was all but sneering as a bird with four defined wings hopped near her feet. Its feathers were the deepest blue I had ever seen while its eyes were crimson.
“Filthy little creature,” she snarled.
I raised a brow towards her. “Not a fan of birds then?”
“Of course not. They smell and are unsightly. They hold no purpose within society.”
I stared at her for one long moment, trying not to laugh. A woman who was renowned as the embodiment of grace and wisdom within the Night Market, and she was falling apart at the sight of a bird.
“They’re kind of cute.”
She scoffed at that, the snort that came from her dislodging one perfect tendril of hair.
“Gabriel says that he needs you to come look at the gate,” I told her. “And he claims you are not going to do it because your fear rules you. I think he was mocking you. I can never be sure with him.”
Her eyes flashed crimson for a moment before boiling back down to gold. “I am the one ruled by fear?” She barked out a huff of laughter. “I see. How dare he be so obtuse.” Tilting her head upwards, she stared directly at him. “Come along, sweetling. Let us show the Warden what you are supposed to do when you are a professional.”
Uncrossing her arms, she hiked the silk of her dress upwards, as if the slit alone wasn’t already high enough, and stalked past me towards Gabriel. I followed after her, trying my hardest not to look amused at just how easy she had been played.
Stopping before the cage, she stared down at it and for a moment. I was almost certain she was going to kick it. Instead, she sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose.
“Anything?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes. Birds.”
He sighed, a weary sigh that proclaimed him to be near the end of his patience with her. “Anything else,” he asked through gritted teeth.
She rolled her eyes but did try again. Stepping forward, she straightened her back, and breathed in deep. I watched as her eyes fluttered, shinning a deeper gold, tinged with molten copper. Something caught her curiosity because when she stepped forward again, she knelt down next to the cage, unaware of the birds still hopping around the entrance.
“Is this one of the ones that appeared at random?”
“One of the first this moon cycle,” Gabriel said. “Birds have been pouring through. Dozens near the beginning but only stragglers now. I am assuming their world is close to dying.”
“There’s blood,” she said. “Lots of blood.”
[[Animal blood or something else?]]
[[How much of it?]]
[[Is it old or new?]]I looked down at the birds. They looked whole and healthy, but that didn’t mean that the ones they had left behind were.
“Is it animal blood or something else?” There was a distinct impression on her face that said it certainly was not coming from the birds. I felt my stomach roll at that.
“Can you see it?” Gabriel asked.
“I can see the gate itself but not the blood. But the smell in unmistakable and it is pungent. Though, old.”
My stomach rolled at the thought. “Do I want to know what old blood smells like?”
“Well, dear heart,” she said, standing. “New blood smells like fresh spun copper. Old blood smells like the bottom of a metal shoe after a night of dancing.” I wrinkled my nose at the description but she certainly gave me an idea of what blood smelled like.
“Shall we move on to the next one then?” Gabriel asked.
“By the Knowing, yes,” Belladonna hissed, storming off through the courtyard and shooing birds away as she went.
Gabriel only shook his head.
“Is that it? Is that all the information you are going to get from the gate?” I asked.
“Whatever Belladonna smells is not information that we have been able to catalog before,” he said. “I loathe to admit it, but we needed someone like her to do this job.”
[[Why didn’t you ask her to help you prior to this?]]
[[Why not ask someone like her to help you?]]
[[Are there really no vampires employed in the Velvet Guard?]]I looked down at the birds. They looked whole and healthy, but that didn’t mean that the ones they had left behind were. “How much blood?” I swallowed.
“More than several individuals can contain,” she said with certainty. I felt my stomach roll.
“Can you see it?” Gabriel asked.
“I can see the gate itself but not the blood. But the smell in unmistakable and it is pungent. Though, old.”
My stomach rolled at the thought. “Do I want to know what old blood smells like?”
“Well, dear heart,” she said, standing. “New blood smells like fresh spun copper. Old blood smells like the bottom of a metal shoe after a night of dancing.” I wrinkled my nose at the description but she certainly gave me an idea of what blood smelled like.
“Shall we move on to the next one then?” Gabriel asked.
“By the Knowing, yes,” Belladonna hissed, storming off through the courtyard and shooing birds away as she went.
Gabriel only shook his head.
“Is that it? Is that all the information you are going to get from the gate?” I asked.
“Whatever Belladonna smells is not information that we have been able to catalog before,” he said. “I loathe to admit it, but we needed someone like her to do this job.”
[[Why didn’t you ask her to help you prior to this?]]
[[Why not ask someone like her to help you?]]
[[Are there really no vampires employed in the Velvet Guard?]]I looked down at the birds. They looked whole and healthy, but that didn’t mean that the ones they had left behind were.
“Can you see it?” Gabriel asked.
“I can see the gate itself but not the blood. But the smell in unmistakable and it is pungent.”
“Is it old blood or new?” I nearly didn’t want to know the answer and was desperately hoping she couldn’t give it. But with one whiff, it was clear that this was within her ability to do.
“Old,” she said. “Definitely over a few moons.”
My stomach rolled at the thought. “Do I want to know what old blood smells like?”
“Well, dear heart,” she said, standing. “New blood smells like fresh spun copper. Old blood smells like the bottom of a metal shoe after a night of dancing.” I wrinkled my nose at the description but she certainly gave me an idea of what blood smelled like.
“Shall we move on to the next one then?” Gabriel asked.
“By the Knowing, yes,” Belladonna hissed, storming off through the courtyard and shooing birds away as she went.
Gabriel only shook his head.
“Is that it? Is that all the information you are going to get from the gate?” I asked.
“Whatever Belladonna smells is not information that we have been able to catalog before,” he said. “I loathe to admit it, but we needed someone like her to do this job.”
[[Why didn’t you ask her to help you prior to this?]]
[[Why not ask someone like her to help you?]]
[[Are there really no vampires employed in the Velvet Guard?]]
“Why didn’t you ask for her help before tonight?” I kept my tone light, knowing I was obviously treading treacherous waters. But it was a question that deserved to be asked all the same.
“She would not have helped me. I am unsure why she even decided to this evening other than out of sheer boredom.”
I frowned, looking at Belladonna’s swaying form before us. This wasn’t exactly something one would pursue if bored and I doubted Belladonna was any different. The explanation didn’t seem to be the entirety of the truth, but Gabriel’s jaw was set all the same. I doubted he would give me much more of an explanation, even if I pressed.
A vivid picture was becoming incredibly clear as Gabriel stalked away, leading the charge once again. When my eyes landed on Belladonna again, she had slowed her pace to something more meandering. Now that she was rid of the birds, she seemed content with her surroundings.
Gabriel slowed after a brief moment of brisk walking, winding us through a few other passageways. I spied sections of the market I had not been to yet. The entirety of the world I had seen thus far was a maze connected by odd stone alleyways that had no indication other than lantern light, where they led. How anyone learned the streets here was beyond me.
“What is on your mind, dear heart?” Belladonna asked, as if she had heard my thoughts already.
“I was just thinking how it seems impossible to navigate this world,” I told her.
“Ah,” she said knowingly. “I suppose what you have seen is the maze of alleys then? I assure you, it is not all like this. There are area’s of the market that are sprawling, weaving up and down stairs and through tunnels and beneath bridges. Your experience thus far has been kept confined, I’d say.”
“Why is that?”
“Have you asked to venture further into the world?” she asked with a pointed look.
“No. But I think I might like to.”
“Then, I’d say that is something you should make happen. No one is going to do things for you, little one. You are the maker of your own day.”
“You say that,” I counter, “but my experience has not been that so far.”
“Hasn’t it?” she mused. “You may have been tossed within these walls, but every action since has been your own choosing. Or do you disagree?”
Free will. It was an interesting concept that I did feel like I had some control over. But I could feel the pressure mounting around me. There was always something lurking in the dark that was threatening to take it. It clawed and it screamed from somewhere beyond and eventually, I felt as if it would catch up to me. No matter what I chose.
I made to tell her just that when a blast of humid air wove through the passageway. It sat uncomfortable against my skin as sweat began to prick near my brow. The street beneath hovered in a mirage of wavering stones that melted into an indiscernible pile.
“Ah,” Belladonna said comfortably from my side. “I believe we have arrived at the next gate.”
[[Next|Chapter Four Gate 2]]
“Why didn’t you get someone like her then?” If the situation of the gates was something that the Velvet Guard was actively working on, then why had they not hired one of the creatures she had mentioned to go around to each gate?
“Because they will not work with me,” he said simply. “Not without her say so.”
I frowned. I didn’t think Belladonna was one to keep help from him. Especially since she volunteered herself so readily. “I still don’t understand,” I said. “That doesn’t seem like it would be a problem.”
We came to the opening of the alleyway and stepped outside the multicolored grass and the symphony of birds.
“It’s a problem,” Belladonna’s voice came from the dark, “because he refused to ask.”
A vivid picture was becoming incredibly clear as Gabriel stalked away, leading the charge once again. When my eyes landed on Belladonna again, she had slowed her pace to something more meandering. Now that she was rid of the birds, she seemed content with her surroundings.
Gabriel slowed after a brief moment of brisk walking, winding us through a few other passageways. I spied sections of the market I had not been to yet. The entirety of the world I had seen thus far was a maze connected by odd stone alleyways that had no indication other than lantern light, where they led. How anyone learned the streets here was beyond me.
“What is on your mind, dear heart?” Belladonna asked, as if she had heard my thoughts already.
“I was just thinking how it seems impossible to navigate this world,” I told her.
“Ah,” she said knowingly. “I suppose what you have seen is the maze of alleys then? I assure you, it is not all like this. There are area’s of the market that are sprawling, weaving up and down stairs and through tunnels and beneath bridges. Your experience thus far has been kept confined, I’d say.”
“Why is that?”
“Have you asked to venture further into the world?” she asked with a pointed look.
“No. But I think I might like to.”
“Then, I’d say that is something you should make happen. No one is going to do things for you, little one. You are the maker of your own day.”
“You say that,” I counter, “but my experience has not been that so far.”
“Hasn’t it?” she mused. “You may have been tossed within these walls, but every action since has been your own choosing. Or do you disagree?”
Free will. It was an interesting concept that I did feel like I had some control over. But I could feel the pressure mounting around me. There was always something lurking in the dark that was threatening to take it. It clawed and it screamed from somewhere beyond and eventually, I felt as if it would catch up to me. No matter what I chose.
I made to tell her just that when a blast of humid air wove through the passageway. It sat uncomfortable against my skin as sweat began to prick near my brow. The street beneath hovered in a mirage of wavering stones that melted into an indiscernible pile.
“Ah,” Belladonna said comfortably from my side. “I believe we have arrived at the next gate.”
[[Next|Chapter Four Gate 2]]
“Are there really no vampires employed within the Velvet Guard?” I asked him as we began our journey once more. It felt as if having a vampire within the guard could be beneficial. For the very least, situations such as this.
“Vampires are not to be trusted,” he said simply.
His answer took me aback. I had not deemed him to be someone with such a harsh line when it came to another species. But his tone was cold and biting while he stared ahead. Somewhere, in the dark, Belladonna lurked.
A vivid picture was becoming incredibly clear as Gabriel stalked away, leading the charge once again. When my eyes landed on Belladonna again, she had slowed her pace to something more meandering. Now that she was rid of the birds, she seemed content with her surroundings.
Gabriel slowed after a brief moment of brisk walking, winding us through a few other passageways. I spied sections of the market I had not been to yet. The entirety of the world I had seen thus far was a maze connected by odd stone alleyways that had no indication other than lantern light, where they led. How anyone learned the streets here was beyond me.
“What is on your mind, dear heart?” Belladonna asked, as if she had heard my thoughts already.
“I was just thinking how it seems impossible to navigate this world,” I told her.
“Ah,” she said knowingly. “I suppose what you have seen is the maze of alleys then? I assure you, it is not all like this. There are area’s of the market that are sprawling, weaving up and down stairs and through tunnels and beneath bridges. Your experience thus far has been kept confined, I’d say.”
“Why is that?”
“Have you asked to venture further into the world?” she asked with a pointed look.
“No. But I think I might like to.”
“Then, I’d say that is something you should make happen. No one is going to do things for you, little one. You are the maker of your own day.”
“You say that,” I counter, “but my experience has not been that so far.”
“Hasn’t it?” she mused. “You may have been tossed within these walls, but every action since has been your own choosing. Or do you disagree?”
Free will. It was an interesting concept that I did feel like I had some control over. But I could feel the pressure mounting around me. There was always something lurking in the dark that was threatening to take it. It clawed and it screamed from somewhere beyond and eventually, I felt as if it would catch up to me. No matter what I chose.
I made to tell her just that when a blast of humid air wove through the passageway. It sat uncomfortable against my skin as sweat began to prick near my brow. The street beneath hovered in a mirage of wavering stones that melted into an indiscernible pile.
“Ah,” Belladonna said comfortably from my side. “I believe we have arrived at the next gate.”
[[Next|Chapter Four Gate 2]]
Up ahead, Gabriel, in his full Warden regalia, was beginning to look uncomfortable. He pressed forward however until he stopped by a broken piece of wall, the sides of which were running in a molten river of slag down below the market itself.
The section was a flat expanse of land that stretched far, the ground cracked through with red as heated lava wound its way like a stream before us. It jutted off into a circular patterns before disappearing beneath the street. The parts that had cooled were now a frozen mound of stone that jutted at random intervals along the district.
Belladonna pointed towards one of these mounds, completely unaffected by the heat boiling from within. “There,” she said.
“Opened two moons ago,” Gabriel said. He was careful not to step further into the market square. “Can you smell it from here?” he asked Belladonna.
“No, but fire does not affect me.” Kicking off her heels, Belladonna walked forward. I nearly shouted, reaching out to drag her back as her bare feet stepped upon the molten ground. Yet, she didn’t even flinch. She walked through the river of magma as if it were nothing, hypnotically weaving across the burning expanse, fluid as water.
“How?” I whispered.
“Each vampire has an ability that is innate to them. Something they are immune to. Belladonna’s has always been heat.”
I couldn’t help but notice how he spoke her name for the first time. Not Ms. Malady. Her true name. I didn’t comment on it as I continued to watch her sway through the field of fire until she reached the mounded bit of slag. It loomed three times taller than her and was pitted with bubbles of steam that had risen in sharp tendrils of smoke into the air. Belladonna observed it carefully, tipping her head to the side as she placed both her hands upon its surface.
Leaning forward, she pressed her body to it, murmuring something to the rock. The sight was oddly beautiful. The curve of her body conformed to the cooled stone, her red hair falling in waves down her pale back as her gown dipped to just above the curve of her hip. Her eyes were closed in supplication, a look of serenity upon her face. Above, the fire lamps burned bright and rained ash upon her. My breath caught at the sight of it.
When she stepped back to our side it was without a singe on her. Her skin was not even marred with soot. Reaching for her shoes, she had no need to steady herself upon the wall as she slipped them on.
“Different signature,” she said. “Different form of magic. Yet, one thing does remain the same.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. I wondered if he too was affected by the beauty we had just seen. “Yes?” he asked.
“Blood.” Binding the straps of her heels, she brought her other foot down and stared at Gabriel expectantly. “Why are their blood upon the gates?”
“You expect me to have an answer for this?” he asked with a raised brow.
“Isn’t that what the Velvet Guard has? Infinite answers?”
[[Step between them before they can fight]]
[[Side with Belladonna. The Velvet Guard really should know more than they seemed too]]
[[Side with Gabriel. There was no way the Velvet Guard could have known all this]]I stepped between them before they could start bickering again. “You say a lot of these gates are from worlds that are dying. Refugees coming through in hopes of continuing life. That they aren’t entirely active anymore.”
Gabriel nodded. “The ones we are focusing on are all ones that popped up unexpectedly, much like the one within the Spice District. Sometimes they stay open for a time. Others close nearly immediately for there is nothing on the other side of them but a voidless black.”
“Could the blood be from the people that died within those worlds?” I asked.
“And their blood has all cumulated on this side of the gate?” Belladonna shook her head. “It is a thin theory at best. The blood that I speak of coats the archways. On our side.”
At that, Gabriel’s gaze sharpened. “The blood is being painted from our side?”
Belladonna’s nose wrinkled in distaste at that but she nodded all the same. “I wouldn’t go so crass to say painted but yes, it is here.”
I felt my stomach roll. “Does that mean people are being sacrificed to these gates?”
No one answered. There was no real way to answer it. Either these gates were coming open on their own and the blood was an anomaly we had yet to figure out. Or residents of the market were being dragged to these locations, their life spilling across the streets.
“There would be spirits, surely,” Belladonna said. Her brows were knitted together in puzzlement. Even she seemed uncertain about what was going on before us.
“Is it from the same person?” I asked her. “Can you tell?”
“I cannot,” she answered regretfully. “Blood smells of blood. I can not trace it back to someone unless I have drank from them specifically.”
Gabriel shifted at our side. “Well then,” he said. “Shall we continue and see if we find more of these blood gates?”
[[Next|Chapter Four 5]]
“Belladonna does have a point. With all the resources at your fingertips, how does the Velvet Guard know so little?”
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not wishing to continue this conversation further. But with the way Belladonna was standing, arms crossing her chest, and me, pinning him down with a stare, he had very little choice.
“The research of the gates is not Baron sanctioned. There are some Barons, and no, I will not be naming them, that feel as if this is all a waste of our time. So, the coin allocated to the Velvet Guard, is allocated to taking others off the streets. To running the bail blocks. To keeping the city clean and orderly. Not, to looking into why the gates are the way they are.”
“It shouldn’t be that way,” Belladonna said, her tone sharp. I had a feeling, this was an old argument.
“Yet, it is, Ms. Malady. You are not in a position of power to change anything. Nor am I. So, until our plights in life change, we will be forced to follow their rules.”
[[The Barons seem more concerned about coin than they do morality or the lives of their people]]
[[So you are researching the Gates on your own time?]]
[[Aren’t you the Warden? Don’t you have any sway in this?]]
“Then you are researching the gates on your own time?” I asked. I kept my voice hushed, afraid that someone would hear it.
“I am doing my due diligence as an officer of the Velvet Guard,” he said firmly. Next to me, Belladonna rolled her eyes and began walking ahead.
“They don’t know, do they? The Barons.”
His grey eyes ticked to me in such a way that told me he was not comfortable with what I was suggesting. Gabriel, the stickler for rules, was breaking them in his own way and merely telling himself it was a vested passion of his.
“We should be going to the other gates,” he told me.
I smiled. “Lead the way, Warden.”
“The gateway you came through is this way,” Gabriel was saying as we all convened together to continue down the alley. “ I have taken us on a more roundabout way to get there so we could check some of the other gates. Your path to the holding cells was much more direct than this.”
“I figured.” I didn’t remember walking this far or this long, even with the guards dragging me.
“Then we shall continue,” Gabriel said with a nod. He stepped forward again, marching off through the endless passages lined with stone.
<<if $BAnger == "false">>Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I would like to commend you with something,” she said softly. I looked at her, startled. “Your words, right or wrong back there, were not ones you would have spoken upon our first meeting.” Her gold eyes landed across mine and I felt them pin me in place. “Well done, little one. We may bring the confidence out in you yet.”
As she walked away, I felt a thrill run through me. I knew it was high praise I had just received from Belladonna Malady. <<elseif $BAnger == "true">> Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I need to make something clear to you, little one,” she said softly. “Be careful the opinions of which you form. While I am not so self important that I think they should align entirely with mine. They should not align with his just because you like the way he looks. Tread lightly.”
As she walked away I felt her words run like ice down my spine. It was very clear to me just how much trouble I was quietly inserting myself within.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Four 5]]
The first time I had been led down this alley, I had been blindfolded. A bag had been placed over my head and I was all but dragged through the streets. I remembered the smell though. The earth smelled wet from rain and there was something pungent and foul coating the broken cobblestone corners. Where I came through, I remember being in a dead end. Some sort of box with a narrow passage leading outwards that had not had swinging lanterns above. In fact, I couldn’t remember what lit up the alley at that point. I had been too shocked and still trying to catch my breath to notice such a thing.
What Gabriel was leading us down now was a narrow passage and I struggled to understand how I was dragged through it with a Velvet Guard on either side of me. I could barely span my arms out within scraping my palms against the moss encrusted side walls. The lanterns above us looked old, every second or third one burnt out. They flickered a sickly green before ebbing into the familiar amber. But the further we went, the more often they just did not shine anymore.
“Curious,” Belladonna breathed.
“What is?”
“You came through down a forgotten alley.” She was looking around. “I would have thought this place to all but fade away at this point.”
“Forgotten alley?”
Gabriel nodded to the dead lights that swung over head. The two of them had seemed to have forgotten their animosity for the moment as they both peered up at the burnt out lights. “When the lanterns go out entirely, the part of the world they belong to closes off. The land either disappears entirely, or belongs to the dead.”
Tilting my head up towards the sky, I watched as the lanterns flickered. I was almost afraid to breathe. As if one wrong move would darken them forever.
“There’s not many left,” Belladonna murmured. “It won’t be long now.”
I watched as Gabriel reached for the jagged bit of stone inside his pocket. It glowed brightly in the otherwise dark. He began to speak to it, his tone a low rumble. Upon his words, the stone began to shine.
“What is he doing?”
Belladonna hushed me, shaking her head a little. “A prayer,” she whispered. “To ease the passage of whoever might belong here still. The dead aren’t all like the ones in Hazel’s alleyway. Some of them hide.”
I searched the cracks and crevices, looking for any sign of life or unlife. But it all felt empty. There was a sense of solitude that was soaked into the walls here and it made my skin feel tepid and stretched too tight.
When Gabriel finished I watched as silver tendrils slipped from the stone, winding their way in faint traces of diminishing light through the alley. When they were gone, Gabriel tucked the stone away, its gleam diminished to a pale shine.
“Thank you, Gabriel,” Belladonna said.
His eyes were sharp as he looked at her. “You mock my faith, Ms. Malady?”
Belladonna’s own eyes sharpened. “I thank you for a service you do not need to do any longer and admire that you still stick to those beliefs,” she said tightly. “But if you do not wish to take a simple compliment than far be it from me to give you one.” The echoing sound of her footsteps became harsh raps as she marched past him, disappearing into the looming dark ahead.
[[She was being genuine, I think]]
[[Should we hurry after her?]]
[[Did you really think her words were cruel?]]“It isn’t exactly his fault,” I started. “The Velvet Guard is responsible for a lot within the Night Market. They might not have the manpower to research the gates as thoroughly as they may need to.”
“Our world is being torn apart,” she countered. “You would think this would be top priority.”
“Not everyone believes this, Ms. Malady.”
“Then it should be your job to make them believe, Gabriel. Our lives depend on it.”
I looked at Belladonna then, shaking my head. Next to me, Gabriel’s fingers twitched in irritation and I could feel the tension beginning to rise once more. “He is one man, Belladonna. He cannot possibly be expected to do everything you want him to.”
Belladonna raised a brow at that. “Well,” she said stonily. “It appears you have taught them well, pet. Tell me, sweetling, since you seem to be on the side of the Velvet Guard, do you also believe the Guard is correct in the way they treat the people within the bail blocks? You were there, after all.”
“Ms. Malady,” Gabriel warned.
“Do you believe that they are truly concerned with papers or that perhaps they are being paid to take the poor from the streets to force them to work for the wealthy within the market. Or, how about the flesh traders. The pits that are simply for people to come and buy bodies and chop them up for spells and misdeeds. Surely this procedure is only saved for the most heinous of crimes. A terrible deed for a terrible deed.”
“Ms. Malady!” Gabriel’s voice boomed through the alleyway, rock crumbling somewhere where his tone hit the flagstone wall.
[[No. Belladonna is right. There is something shifty with the Velvet Guard]]
[[Gabriel is not responsible for the entirety of the Guard]]
[[All I am saying, is that the gates should not fall entirely on the Guard itself. That they are overworked]]
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>[[Wait, didn't I hear your name during purchasing?]]<</if>>
I swallowed thickly at her words. They cut through me like a razors edge as I remembered the docks. What I had seen. What I had even gone through. She was right. The Velvet Guard didn’t have answers because someone deemed other things, more terrible things, more important than the world itself. And Gabriel was standing by, vocally in support.
Looking at Gabriel, I shook my head. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “But she does actually have a point. There’s something going on within the Velvet Guard or whoever is in charge of them. Not allowing these gates to be researched more thoroughly because of lack of employee’s or funds is a sad excuse when you auction off people every week.”
There was no emotion on Gabriel’s face. Nothing that indicated anger or regret. Instead, he let my words sit for a moment, before looking at both of us in turn.
“Shall we continue? Nothing is getting done here.”
He didn’t wait for our answer before he turned and left. Next to me, Belladonna sighed sadly.
“The gateway you came through is this way,” Gabriel was saying as we all convened together to continue down the alley. “ I have taken us on a more roundabout way to get there so we could check some of the other gates. Your path to the holding cells was much more direct than this.”
“I figured.” I didn’t remember walking this far or this long, even with the guards dragging me.
“Then we shall continue,” Gabriel said with a nod. He stepped forward again, marching off through the endless passages lined with stone.
Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I would like to commend you with something,” she said softly. I looked at her, startled. “Your words, right or wrong back there, were not ones you would have spoken upon our first meeting.” Her gold eyes landed across mine and I felt them pin me in place. “Well done, little one. We may bring the confidence out in you yet.”
As she walked away, I felt a thrill run through me. I knew it was high praise I had just received from Belladonna Malady.
[[Next|Chapter Four 5]]
<<set $BAnger to "false">>There was no denying that Belladonna’s words had weight. They were dark clouds upon the Guard and one that hung heavy upon my own experience. But Gabriel was not at fault. And for her to sit and blame him for the actions of an entire group felt negligent on her part.
“Gabriel may be their boss but he is not responsible for the actions of the entire Guard.”
“Isn’t he?” she challenged. “He is the one that gives them orders. They are blindly following. If he knows there is something untoward happening in his home, to his people, shouldn’t he ensure that they do not repeat the offense? Or does he get to wash his hands clean of the blood being spilled because he is under direct orders as well?”
Her eyes wandered to him then, sharp and piercing.
“Don’t answer,” she said to both of us. “Your opinion on the matter is already known, Gabriel, and sweetling, I would still like to respect you when we leave this alley.”
Walking past us, she continued down the alley and into the dark. Next to me, Gabriel just shook his head and moved on, not commenting the brief spat at all.
“The gateway you came through is this way,” Gabriel was saying as we all convened together to continue down the alley. “ I have taken us on a more roundabout way to get there so we could check some of the other gates. Your path to the holding cells was much more direct than this.”
“I figured.” I didn’t remember walking this far or this long, even with the guards dragging me.
“Then we shall continue,” Gabriel said with a nod. He stepped forward again, marching off through the endless passages lined with stone.
Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I need to make something clear to you, little one,” she said softly. “Be careful the opinions of which you form. While I am not so self important that I think they should align entirely with mine. They should not align with his just because you like the way he looks. Tread lightly.”
As she walked away I felt her words run like ice down my spine. It was very clear to me just how much trouble I was quietly inserting myself within.
[[Next|Chapter Four 5]]
<<set $BAnger to "true">>There was no denying that Belladonna’s words had weight. They were dark clouds upon the Guard and one that hung heavy upon my own experience. To think, however, that they should be responsible for the gates, felt negligent.
“The Guard is overworked. No one is denying that there are things they have and are doing that are a problem. But the gates should not fall on their shoulders. The good individual’s there are doing everything they can to hold the Market together. While the ones that are corrupt shouldn’t come anywhere near the fate of our home.”
Belladonna paused at this, seeming to listen to my words with more interest than ire. “Then who should it fall upon, sweetling?”
I kicked at the ground. That I really didn’t know but, relying on the authority controlled by the Baron’s was the last resort to fall to. “Maybe on people like us? Others within this world who have the ability to help. Revolutions never came from the governing power,” I said. “They always came from the people unhappy with how the power handled their lives.”
A slow grin spread across Belladonna’s face, her fangs glinting in the lantern light. Nodding, she walked by me, her long fingers ghosting over my arm. “Well done,” she whispered in my ear. Slowly, she walked away from us, her hips swaying until she disappeared into the dark.
Gabriel, who had been standing next to me, was staring ahead. “While I do not agree entirely with what you said,” he began. “I also commend you on it. Not everyone speaks up. You did. There is respect in that.”
Slowly, he walked after Belladonna, leaving me once more, to follow in their wake.
“The gateway you came through is this way,” Gabriel was saying as we all convened together to continue down the alley. “ I have taken us on a more roundabout way to get there so we could check some of the other gates. Your path to the holding cells was much more direct than this.”
“I figured.” I didn’t remember walking this far or this long, even with the guards dragging me.
“Then we shall continue,” Gabriel said with a nod. He stepped forward again, marching off through the endless passages lined with stone.
Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I need to make something clear to you, little one,” she said softly. “Be careful the opinions of which you form. While I am not so self important that I think they should align entirely with mine. They should not align with his just because you like the way he looks. Tread lightly.”
As she walked away I felt her words run like ice down my spine. It was very clear to me just how much trouble I was quietly inserting myself within.
[[Next|Chapter Four 5]]
"Wait," I frowned, bits of information starting to filter back through. "I heard your name. Back at the purchasing desk by the pits. They said you bought someone." I looked at Gabriel for confirmation. From what I remember, he had turned at the sound of her name to.
"Did I?" she asked.
"Yes." I was certain I had heard her name. Belladonna was not common and I doubted she would allow many others with her name in the Night Market.
"Not all purchases from the flesh pits are bad ones," she told me.
"I don't know, Belladonna. That seems pretty bad no matter how you spin it."
"Yes, Ms. Malady. Do tell why exactly your name was on the purchasing list that night."
Her smile was thin, a flash of irritation crossing her eyes. "Unless you plan to take responsibility for the pit itself, Gabriel, I do not think my actions there are anything you need to be concened with."
Gabriel shook his head, walking away from us. “The gateway you came through is this way,” he started. “ I have taken us on a more roundabout way to get there so we could check some of the other gates. Your path to the holding cells was much more direct than this.”
“I figured.” I didn’t remember walking this far or this long, even with the guards dragging me.
“Then we shall continue,” Gabriel said with a nod. He stepped forward again, marching off through the endless passages lined with stone.
Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I need to make something clear to you, little one,” she said softly. “Be careful the opinions of which you form. While I am not so self important that I think they should align entirely with mine. They should not align with his just because you like the way he looks. Tread lightly.”
As she walked away I felt her words run like ice down my spine. It was very clear to me just how much trouble I was quietly inserting myself within.
[[Next|Chapter Four 5]]
“Warden,” I started softly. “You do realize that these Barons are more concerned with the buying and selling of people at an auction block, than they are with the tears that are quite literally ending your world.”
How could he not see it? I had been to those beaches. Seen the amount of cages that were piled high. Heard the calling of the auctioneer as people were sold to servitude elsewhere. They justified it with the idea that when the day was done, these people paid their price and went home and for reasons unknown to me, everyone was accepting it. I didn’t understand how.
“I know our ways can seem cruel,” Gabriel continued, “but this is simply the way it is. If there is to be a change, we will not find it by breaking the rules.”
“And yet,” Belladonna said. “You research the gates without their knowledge.”
He looked away at that, the muscle in his jaw twitching.
“There has to be some part of you that knows this is not right,” I said. <<if $intothepits == "true">> “You were in those pits with me. You //know// this isn’t right.”<</if>>
When he turned and walked on ahead, I stared after him, my efforts falling on deaf ears as he blindly followed these so-called rules. Next to me, Belladonna sighed. “It is an old tale, sweetling,” she said. “One I hope you managed to unravel better than I ever have.”
Smiling softly at me, genuinely, she began to walk after him. Leaving me to follow.
“The gateway you came through is this way,” Gabriel was saying as we all convened together to continue down the alley. “ I have taken us on a more roundabout way to get there so we could check some of the other gates. Your path to the holding cells was much more direct than this.”
“I figured.” I didn’t remember walking this far or this long, even with the guards dragging me.
“Then we shall continue,” Gabriel said with a nod. He stepped forward again, marching off through the endless passages lined with stone.
<<if $BAnger == "false">>Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I would like to commend you with something,” she said softly. I looked at her, startled. “Your words, right or wrong back there, were not ones you would have spoken upon our first meeting.” Her gold eyes landed across mine and I felt them pin me in place. “Well done, little one. We may bring the confidence out in you yet.”
As she walked away, I felt a thrill run through me. I knew it was high praise I had just received from Belladonna Malady. <<elseif $BAnger == "true">> Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I need to make something clear to you, little one,” she said softly. “Be careful the opinions of which you form. While I am not so self important that I think they should align entirely with mine. They should not align with his just because you like the way he looks. Tread lightly.”
As she walked away I felt her words run like ice down my spine. It was very clear to me just how much trouble I was quietly inserting myself within.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Four 5]]“You’re the Warden,” I said. “Don’t you have any sway in this? Surely the Baron’s would listen to you. They have appointed the safety of the Night Market to you.”
“It is not within my job description to question the Barons. The information they have versus what I do, are not always congruent. It is simply my job to know they have our best interest at heart.”
“Oh come off it, Gabriel,” Belladonna moaned. “You cannot still be blindly following the rules like this.”
“Ms. Malady, refrain from thinking you know anything about what I do or do not believe. I think that would suit us all in the end.”
The incredulous look that was on my face was surely one that denoted just how far gone I thought Gabriel was. I was practically begging him with my eyes to wake up. To understand that he had more power than he gave himself credit for. He was a man that commanded respect so effortlessly. I couldn’t see why he didn’t use it to help those he was supposed to protect.
When he turned and walked on ahead, I stared after him, my own heart feeling broken at how blindly he followed these so called rules. Next to me, Belladonna sighed. “It is an old tale, sweetling,” she said. “One I hope you managed to unravel better than I ever have.”
Smiling softly at me, genuinely, she began to walk after him. Leaving me to follow.
“The gateway you came through is this way,” Gabriel was saying as we all convened together to continue down the alley. “ I have taken us on a more roundabout way to get there so we could check some of the other gates. Your path to the holding cells was much more direct than this.”
“I figured.” I didn’t remember walking this far or this long, even with the guards dragging me.
“Then we shall continue,” Gabriel said with a nod. He stepped forward again, marching off through the endless passages lined with stone.
<<if $BAnger == "false">>Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I would like to commend you with something,” she said softly. I looked at her, startled. “Your words, right or wrong back there, were not ones you would have spoken upon our first meeting.” Her gold eyes landed across mine and I felt them pin me in place. “Well done, little one. We may bring the confidence out in you yet.”
As she walked away, I felt a thrill run through me. I knew it was high praise I had just received from Belladonna Malady. <<elseif $BAnger == "true">> Next to me, Belladonna kept pace by my side. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her gaze all the same. “I need to make something clear to you, little one,” she said softly. “Be careful the opinions of which you form. While I am not so self important that I think they should align entirely with mine. They should not align with his just because you like the way he looks. Tread lightly.”
As she walked away I felt her words run like ice down my spine. It was very clear to me just how much trouble I was quietly inserting myself within.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Four 5]]
<<set $BAnger to "false">>I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “I think she was being genuine.” There had been a softness to her when she thanked him. One that he had immediately dismissed as cruelty.
Gabriel was silent, peering into the dark like he could still see her. Maybe he could. I could see the tinge of regret upon him at my words and I wondered if he hadn’t realized that not everything Belladonna said to him was meant as a challenge.
“When you were praying, she advised me to be quiet, so as not to distract you. And the way she looked at you…” I trailed off. There was such nostalgia there.
The dark loomed around us, the lanterns growing dim. Some of them not shinning at all. It caused the air to feel colder and for the night to feel endless.
“You do not like her, do you?” I asked. I didn’t know what possessed me to do so other than being caught in the middle of their malice so frequently tonight.
“Does anyone truly like, Ms. Malady or do they just pay her to be someone that they enjoy rather than realize the true visage beneath the act.”
[[I like her and I didn’t pay her]]
[[You know what’s beneath the mask, don’t you?]]
[[I guess I should be more careful around her]]“Should we go after her?” I asked.
Gabriel stared at her retreating form. “No. She will be alright. There is very little in this world that can touch, Ms. Malady. She has made sure of that.”
There was nothing to look at in the alleyway and after a time, it felt endless. I could still hear Belladonna’s heels in the dark but could only vaguely make out her form.
“You do not like her, do you?” I asked. I didn’t know what possessed me to do so other than being caught in the middle of their malice so frequently tonight.
“Does anyone truly like, Ms. Malady or do they just pay her to be someone that they enjoy rather than realize the true visage beneath the act.”
[[I like her and I didn’t pay her]]
[[You know what’s beneath the mask, don’t you?]]
[[I guess I should be more careful around her]]I frowned, confused by the exchange that had just occurred. I was uncertain if I missed something and if Belladonna had been mocking him. There was so much of his faith that I didn’t understand and I now wondered if it was my own lack of knowledge that led me to believe initially that she was trying to be kind.
“Did you really think her word were cruel?” I asked him, looking for understanding.
There was a harshness to his face as he peered into the dark ahead. Perhaps he could see her. Or perhaps he was looking for an answer of his own.
“I believe that most of the time she can be cruel. It is best to think her words as such so as not to fall for one of her games.”
It didn’t sit right. I didn’t know Belladonna well but even if she were a mere stranger, his words fell wrong somehow.
“You do not like her, do you?” I asked. I didn’t know what possessed me to do so other than being caught in the middle of their malice so frequently tonight.
“Does anyone truly like, Ms. Malady or do they just pay her to be someone that they enjoy rather than realize the true visage beneath the act.”
[[I like her and I didn’t pay her]]
[[You know what’s beneath the mask, don’t you?]]
[[I guess I should be more careful around her]]“I like her,” I said softly. “And I haven’t paid her anything.” Belladonna was a woman who could so easily manipulate. The way she looked, how she talked, the confidence she exuded. It all lent to an image she wanted everyone to see. Yet, I did not feel as if she were being untrue when we had spoken. There was not an act with the words she had given me.
He didn’t respond to that. Not that I thought he would. I assumed he probably thought of me like the rest of the masses. Somehow consumed by her spell.
The alley ended on a series of nine dead lanterns before opening up to a small courtyard, filled with debris. A stone fence surrounded the area with three high walls, not climbable by any means. Whatever lay beyond was dampened by magic. Or was lost to a nothingness that I had yet to understand. The smell though. The smell hit me. Suddenly I was back in those initial moments, on hands and knees, blinking up at the pristine red of a velvet coat.
Belladonna stood in the middle of the small courtyard, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other beneath her chin as she observed a specific spot high upon the wall. My own gaze traveled the path of hers, finding nothing but a bright moon above. Big and translucent, fluttering in the slight breeze like paper.
“You are sure this is the door?” she mused.
“This is what my guards reported to me. And when I came back here, I did find a scrap of clothing matching the ones that $name had when they first arrived.”
Belladonna tapped her chin with one long and lacquered nail.
I shifted my weight back and forth on my feet, the silence within the courtyard eerie at best. “What is it?”
“Hm?” Belladonna looked over her shoulder, almost surprised to see me. “Oh. It’s nothing. Surely it's nothing.”
“Ms. Malady, if you have information it is pertinent that you share it.”
She rolled her eyes at him and dropped both her arms to the side. “Do either of you see it?” Both Gabriel and I shook our head. “It has no form to it. The other gates are all disguised as other things. Pebbles. Roofing tiles. A garter. But this is not disguised. Nor does it have the arched shape that the other doors do when you look past their glamour.”
“So what does that mean?” I asked, feeling a shiver run through me.
“It means,” she said, turning to us. “This isn’t a gate.”
[[Next|Chapter Four 7]]
There was a familiarity between the two of them. Anyone that had spent more than ten minutes with their bickering selves could see it. But it ran deeper. There was a hurt that was buried far beneath it all that had festered into a gaping wound.
“By the bitterness in your words I am assuming you know what is beneath the mask.”
His jaw was tight. “Not many do,” he said after a moment. “I may be one of the few who has the displeasure of that little secret.”
The alley ended on a series of nine dead lanterns before opening up to a small courtyard, filled with debris. A stone fence surrounded the area with three high walls, not climbable by any means. Whatever lay beyond was dampened by magic. Or was lost to a nothingness that I had yet to understand. The smell though. The smell hit me. Suddenly I was back in those initial moments, on hands and knees, blinking up at the pristine red of a velvet coat.
Belladonna stood in the middle of the small courtyard, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other beneath her chin as she observed a specific spot high upon the wall. My own gaze traveled the path of hers, finding nothing but a bright moon above. Big and translucent, fluttering in the slight breeze like paper.
“You are sure this is the door?” she mused.
“This is what my guards reported to me. And when I came back here, I did find a scrap of clothing matching the ones that $name had when they first arrived.”
Belladonna tapped her chin with one long and lacquered nail.
I shifted my weight back and forth on my feet, the silence within the courtyard eerie at best. “What is it?”
“Hm?” Belladonna looked over her shoulder, almost surprised to see me. “Oh. It’s nothing. Surely it's nothing.”
“Ms. Malady, if you have information it is pertinent that you share it.”
She rolled her eyes at him and dropped both her arms to the side. “Do either of you see it?” Both Gabriel and I shook our head. “It has no form to it. The other gates are all disguised as other things. Pebbles. Roofing tiles. A garter. But this is not disguised. Nor does it have the arched shape that the other doors do when you look past their glamour.”
“So what does that mean?” I asked, feeling a shiver run through me.
“It means,” she said, turning to us. “This isn’t a gate.”
[[Next|Chapter Four 7]]
I shifted uncomfortably. “I guess I should be more careful around her,” I said. There was obviously something he saw in her, had experienced with her, that I had not. And Gabriel seemed like an honest man. He would not advise me not to associate with her unless he had a good reason.
Though, when I looked up at him, I watched the indecision flicker across his face. Perhaps he thought I would argue it with him. Or that his words didn’t matter to someone like me. In the end, he only sighed instead of responding, though, giving me nothing but choice when it came to what I thought about Belladonna Malady.
The alley ended on a series of nine dead lanterns before opening up to a small courtyard, filled with debris. A stone fence surrounded the area with three high walls, not climbable by any means. Whatever lay beyond was dampened by magic. Or was lost to a nothingness that I had yet to understand. The smell though. The smell hit me. Suddenly I was back in those initial moments, on hands and knees, blinking up at the pristine red of a velvet coat.
Belladonna stood in the middle of the small courtyard, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other beneath her chin as she observed a specific spot high upon the wall. My own gaze traveled the path of hers, finding nothing but a bright moon above. Big and translucent, fluttering in the slight breeze like paper.
“You are sure this is the door?” she mused.
“This is what my guards reported to me. And when I came back here, I did find a scrap of clothing matching the ones that $name had when they first arrived.”
Belladonna tapped her chin with one long and lacquered nail.
I shifted my weight back and forth on my feet, the silence within the courtyard eerie at best. “What is it?”
“Hm?” Belladonna looked over her shoulder, almost surprised to see me. “Oh. It’s nothing. Surely it's nothing.”
“Ms. Malady, if you have information it is pertinent that you share it.”
She rolled her eyes at him and dropped both her arms to the side. “Do either of you see it?” Both Gabriel and I shook our head. “It has no form to it. The other gates are all disguised as other things. Pebbles. Roofing tiles. A garter. But this is not disguised. Nor does it have the arched shape that the other doors do when you look past their glamour.”
“So what does that mean?” I asked, feeling a shiver run through me.
“It means,” she said, turning to us. “This isn’t a gate.”
[[Next|Chapter Four 7]]
“Impossible.” Gabriel stepped forth as if he could see what she was speaking of. “It is too gate. Just simply presenting as a tear.”
“I assure you, it is not.”
“Then how did ?they come to be here?” With a motion back at me, he looked at Belladonna in fury.
“I do not know, Gabriel,” she said. “But I am telling you, this is not a gate.”
Stepping forth, I narrowed my eyes, trying to see exactly what it was she did. But there was nothing. Not even a glimmer. Just a dirty alleyway where my life had taken a weird and irrevocable turn. “If this is not a gate then…” my voice trailed off.
Suddenly, both Gabriel and Belladonna were not in the alley anymore. They were a distant shadow of a voice somewhere far beyond that I could not reach. I could not hear them, but I could feel their voices running through me like water.
The world around was gray, the lanterns I had been eyeing were now doused and gone, hanging across thin wire in tattered shreds. The paper moon was in a similar state. Torn in two. Broken with only a flickering light. The alley itself looked washed out and faded, dripping like a child's water color along the flagstone walls.
“You’re new.”
Whipping around I spied a man leaning against the alley’s entrance. He looked unconcerned with my sudden arrival and his voice felt as if it were coming to me through a muffled stretch of cotton. When I squinted at him, he nodded in understanding, stepping forward.
He had dark hair and faded eyes. His skin which once would have been healthy and tawny was now a pallid smear against his frame. But he was alert. He did not look like the spirits in the alley. And as he offered me a gentle smile with his bloodless lips, I couldn’t help but wonder if the alley had fallen into forgotten memories.
“Where’d you come from?” he asked.
[[A tear in the sky]]
[[The Night Market]]
[[I don’t know|Chatper Four IDK]]“A tear in the sky.” A tear. Not a gate. I apparently didn’t come through a gate. Not that I even knew what that meant. The more pressing concern was where was I now and who was the man standing before me.
I observed him carefully. There was a vague sadness to him. One that clung to him in a wavering line, etching across his shoulders and down his arms. He didn’t seem to be hostile in nature, nor did he seem to particularly care that I was here to begin with.
“I… are you the Gatekeeper?”
He looked at me, his eyes blinking slowly, his lashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks. “I don’t think so. But I don’t really know what that is, so maybe?”
“Do you even know where here is?”
He looked around. The alley looked like the one I had been standing in but flecks of it were peeling away. I watched as the cobblestone came apart in small bits of dust and ash to swirl upwards into a void that looked as if it stretched for miles.
“I haven’t named it,” he told me.
“Are there others here?”
“Occasionally.” His eyes were following the same path of destruction as it rose up and up before fading away into the deepest bit of night sky I had ever seen.
“How did you get here anyway?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t even really know how I got to the here that was before here.”
He laughed a little at that. “That sounds like a predicament.”
[[Tell him the truth of what you had been doing before arriving]]
[[Keep your activities before here close to chest. Just in case]]“The Night Market.” I watched the man for a flicker of recognition, but there was nothing. He only gave me an absent nod, as if this new information was something he was filing away. It meant I wasn’t in the same world any longer. Wherever this was, while it looked like the courtyard I had just been standing in, I was clearly somewhere else.
I observed the man carefully. There was a vague sadness to him. One that clung to him in a wavering line, etching across his shoulders and down his arms. He didn’t seem to be hostile in nature, nor did he seem to particularly care that I was here to begin with.
“I… are you the Gatekeeper?”
He looked at me, his eyes blinking slowly, his lashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks. “I don’t think so. But I don’t really know what that is, so maybe?”
“Do you even know where here is?”
He looked around. The alley looked like the one I had been standing in but flecks of it were peeling away. I watched as the cobblestone came apart in small bits of dust and ash to swirl upwards into a void that looked as if it stretched for miles.
“I haven’t named it,” he told me.
“Are there others here?”
“Occasionally.” His eyes were following the same path of destruction as it rose up and up before fading away into the deepest bit of night sky I had ever seen.
“How did you get here anyway?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t even really know how I got to the here that was before here.”
He laughed a little at that. “That sounds like a predicament.”
[[Tell him the truth of what you had been doing before arriving]]
[[Keep your activities before here close to chest. Just in case]]My eyes flickered around me. “I– I don’t know?” I didn’t even know if here was a different here or if I was standing between Gabriel and Belladonna in some sort of trance.
“Oh,” the man said. “Yeah. Same.”
I observed him carefully. There was a vague sadness to him. One that clung to him in a wavering line, etching across his shoulders and down his arms. He didn’t seem to be hostile in nature, nor did he seem to particularly care that I was here to begin with.
“I… are you the Gatekeeper?”
He looked at me, his eyes blinking slowly, his lashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks. “I don’t think so. But I don’t really know what that is, so maybe?”
“Do you even know where here is?”
He looked around. The alley looked like the one I had been standing in but flecks of it were peeling away. I watched as the cobblestone came apart in small bits of dust and ash to swirl upwards into a void that looked as if it stretched for miles.
“I haven’t named it,” he told me.
“Are there others here?”
“Occasionally.” His eyes were following the same path of destruction as it rose up and up before fading away into the deepest bit of night sky I had ever seen.
“How did you get here anyway?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t even really know how I got to the here that was before here.”
He laughed a little at that. “That sounds like a predicament.”
[[Tell him the truth of what you had been doing before arriving]]
[[Keep your activities before here close to chest. Just in case]]I turned, looking at the stretch of sky that Belladonna had been staring at. Not a gate, she had said. She had sounded so sure but I didn’t know what that meant for me if I didn’t come through the same way everyone else had.
“I was with some people,” I told him. “Friends. Or potential friends. We were looking at…” I trailed off. How did I explain any of this to someone who didn’t even know where they were at? Sighing, I shook my head. “We were investigating something that is happening in our world. Gates to different worlds are opening and closing at random and it is making our world suffer. It’s killing it, in fact.”
The man frowned a little, his brow knitting in confusion. “I’m sorry to hear that.” And he did. He did genuinely sound remorseful.
“I was looking at one of these gates, or what we thought was a gate, right before this. I stepped forward to get a better look and suddenly I was here.”
It was with a sinking sensation that I thought about how that had been happening a lot lately. Was I now stuck here as well?
“You look upset,” the man observed.
“A little.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.”
A stranger offering help. It was all too reminiscent and caused my arms to wrap low around my waist as I shivered. The air however, felt like nothing. It was as if there wasn’t even the atmosphere here to touch my skin. No hot. No cold. No breeze or shifting feel of reality. There was just nothing. It was terrifying to behold.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“$name. My name is $name.”
The smile he gave me was kind and a little crooked. In other circumstances, I may not have trusted it. He looked like a thief. The Milo sort. But here, in this slowly fading alley, I didn’t know if I had much of a choice. “It is very nice to meet you, $name.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you have a name?”
He laughed a little. I found it softened his eyes. “I hope so. But I don’t remember it. I don’t remember much of anything, sadly.”
I frowned at that. Like me then.
[[How long have you been here?]]
[[Can you leave this alley and wander around?]]
[[No memories. At all?]]I turned, looking at the stretch of sky that Belladonna had been staring at. Not a gate, she had said. She had sounded so sure but I didn’t know what that meant for me if I didn’t come through the same way everyone else had. The urge to tell this man this, as crazy as it sounded, rocketed through me. But I didn’t know what this situation was that I was in. If he was trustworthy. Or if he could even do anything at all.
Until I knew further, it was probably best to keep things vague. “I was with some people,” I told him. “Friends. Or potential friends. We were looking at…” I trailed off. How did I explain any of this to someone who didn’t even know where they were at? Sighing, I shook my head. “We were investigating something that is happening in our world. I stepped forward to get a better look and suddenly I was here.”
It was with a sinking sensation that I thought about how that had been happening a lot lately. Was I now stuck here as well?
“You look upset,” the man observed.
“A little.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could help you.”
A stranger offering help. It was all too reminiscent and caused my arms to wrap low around my waist as I shivered. The air however, felt like nothing. It was as if there wasn’t even the atmosphere here to touch my skin. No hot. No cold. No breeze or shifting feel of reality. There was just nothing. It was terrifying to behold.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“$name. My name is $name.”
The smile he gave me was kind and a little crooked. In other circumstances, I may not have trusted it. He looked like a thief. The Milo sort. But here, in this slowly fading alley, I didn’t know if I had much of a choice. “It is very nice to meet you, $name.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Do you have a name?”
He laughed a little. I found it softened his eyes. “I hope so. But I don’t remember it. I don’t remember much of anything, sadly.”
I frowned at that. Like me then.
[[How long have you been here?]]
[[Can you leave this alley and wander around?]]
[[No memories. At all?]]“How long have you been here?”
He shrugged. “A time. I lose track of it all. Everything here is peaceful. Like a slow roll through calm waters. I sometimes forget that there might be something else out there.” He frowned a little. “Can I ask you an odd question?”
“I think that given our circumstances, you can pretty much ask me anything.”
“Is there a possibility that you died where you’re from? Maybe someone killed you without you knowing.”
The thought had crossed my mind and it was a dreadful one to entertain. “Maybe. Though, the people I was with were powerful. I don’t know if anyone would have gotten the chance to really kill me.”
He nodded slowly, taking in the new information. “I just sometimes wonder if I’m dead, is all. If you’re here though, and you’re not dead, then maybe I’m not either.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I tried to make my voice sound hopeful but didn’t think it came off that way. When the flicker of emotion crossed the man's face I felt my stomach tighten with anguish. How long had he been wandering here by himself? What was this prison that we now found ourselves trapped in.
“Look,” I started, stepping forward. “If there’s a way out then maybe you and I could find it together…”
A jolt shot through my abdomen and when I blinked I was staring into the concerned eyes of Gabriel. “$name. Are you alright?” His hands were on my shoulder, gripping me tight. Next to him, Belladonna was staring at me and then the area where the not gate was, her gaze wild and bright.
[[Next|Chapter Four 8]]
“Can you wander?” I asked, thinking of the spirits in the Night Market and how they were stuck in one place. “Can you leave this alley at all?”
He looked down the passageway that stretched into the dark. “Sometimes,” he told me with a shrug. “Though, I don’t really remember walking to some place else. I’m just there.” He frowned a little. “Can I ask you an odd question?”
“I think that given our circumstances, you can pretty much ask me anything.”
“Is there a possibility that you died where you’re from? Maybe someone killed you without you knowing.”
The thought had crossed my mind and it was a dreadful one to entertain. “Maybe. Though, the people I was with were powerful. I don’t know if anyone would have gotten the chance to really kill me.”
He nodded slowly, taking in the new information. “I just sometimes wonder if I’m dead, is all. If you’re here though, and you’re not dead, then maybe I’m not either.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I tried to make my voice sound hopeful but didn’t think it came off that way. When the flicker of emotion crossed the man's face I felt my stomach tighten with anguish. How long had he been wandering here by himself? What was this prison that we now found ourselves trapped in.
“Look,” I started, stepping forward. “If there’s a way out then maybe you and I could find it together…”
A jolt shot through my abdomen and when I blinked I was staring into the concerned eyes of Gabriel. “$name. Are you alright?” His hands were on my shoulder, gripping me tight. Next to him, Belladonna was staring at me and then the area where the not gate was, her gaze wild and bright.
[[Next|Chapter Four 8]]
“Do you have any memories?” I asked. “Any at all?” I had clung to the thought of my grandmothers quilt since arriving. The blue tones of it. The way it felt beneath my fingertips.
He shook his head sadly. “No. Impressions sometimes? Like I’m supposed to be doing something. Or the way certain things feel. But no actual memories.” He frowned a little. “Can I ask you an odd question?”
“I think that given our circumstances, you can pretty much ask me anything.”
“Is there a possibility that you died where you’re from? Maybe someone killed you without you knowing.”
The thought had crossed my mind and it was a dreadful one to entertain. “Maybe. Though, the people I was with were powerful. I don’t know if anyone would have gotten the chance to really kill me.”
He nodded slowly, taking in the new information. “I just sometimes wonder if I’m dead, is all. If you’re here though, and you’re not dead, then maybe I’m not either.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I tried to make my voice sound hopeful but didn’t think it came off that way. When the flicker of emotion crossed the man's face I felt my stomach tighten with anguish. How long had he been wandering here by himself? What was this prison that we now found ourselves trapped in.
“Look,” I started, stepping forward. “If there’s a way out then maybe you and I could find it together…”
A jolt shot through my abdomen and when I blinked I was staring into the concerned eyes of Gabriel. “$name. Are you alright?” His hands were on my shoulder, gripping me tight. Next to him, Belladonna was staring at me and then the area where the not gate was, her gaze wild and bright.
[[Next|Chapter Four 8]]
Whipping my head back and forth I searched the alley. But everything was the same. Broken lanterns lined the passageway. The corners of the small square courtyard smelled like piss and bile and dead moss grew between the cracks of each brick.
“Where is he?” I asked, searching for the sad man with the soulful eyes.
“Where’s who?” Belladonna asked.
“The man. He was just here. You two weren’t but he was. I…” I trailed off. The moon above was dim but it was still whole, and the stone walls were not flaking away into a starless void. My breath shuddered to a stop as I took it all in. Had I gone mad? Turning my gaze towards Gabriel, I swallowed thickly. “What just happened?”
“You disappeared,” he said evenly. Despite the calmness of his voice, his eyes looked anything but. “We turned and you were not there. For a moment, I thought you had run back down the alley.”
“We were just about to leave to go and find you. Or, he was. I of course could smell you had not gone down the alleyway. Then you popped back into existence.” Taking a step forward, Belladonna tipped her head to the side. “Where in the Knowing did you go, dear heart?”
I tried to explain it to them as best I could. The way the alley looked. How it was this one but not. And the man leaning at the entrance. A lost soul.
Gabriel and Belladonna exchanged a look with each other.
“Do you know where I went? Who he was?”
Stepping away from me, Gabriel began scrutinizing the area that he and Belladonna had been arguing about earlier. His eyes were narrowed as if he was trying to see what she had, wanting to catalog it for himself.
“We cannot know for certain,” Belladonna said. Her voice was soft, carrying towards me with an edge of caution.
[[Demand that she tell you]]
[[Beg that she tell you]]
[[Take a calming breath]]“But you know,” I said, whipping around to look at her. “You are toted as the person here who knows everything. I need answers. Stop treating me like I cannot handle them.”
She arched one brow towards me, her blood-red lips ticking into something I was certain was not good. But I could feel the tears prick my own eyes in anger and I just wanted to know what was going on. Here and there. I wanted to stop bouncing back and forth between whatever it was that I was bouncing between.
I wanted to go home.
I no longer knew what that even meant.
“I assure you,” she said, her voice still calm. I could tell her tone had become a bit more clipped with my outburst. “I am not keeping anything from you other than mere speculation.”
“Then I would like your speculation,” I bit out through clenched teeth.
“No.”
I felt rage boil within me and my hands clench at my sides.
“Dear heart, I understand your plight and the desire to discover what secrets lie behind the doors that have been closing to you. But I will not fill your head with inaccuracies to satisfy baseless worries.”
“This is my life,” I protested. “How are my worries baseless?”
“Because they offer you nothing than a false anxiety to dwell upon when the reality of the situation is so far from what we can discern with the few kernels of information we have. When I know something more, which, I will, I shall come to you. But until then, the answer to your demands about the small picture I may or may not be forming, is no.”
My chest heaved but she stood before me, a pillar of collected confidence. The exact antithesis to what I was feeling.
“I can see it,” Gabriel said.
I took deep and calming breaths, letting the air fill my aching chest. I could feel the emotion prick high on my cheeks and knew that if I didn’t gain control of myself now, I would lose what little hold I had left. The market itself was becoming a miasma of confusion that was threatening to suffocate me if I would let it. So I was going to refuse to let it win.
“I assure you,” Belladonna’s voice came through, giving me something to cling to while I centered. “I am not keeping anything from you other than mere speculation. When I know something more, which, I will, I shall come to you. But until then, the answer to your demands about the small picture I may or may not be forming, is no.”
My chest heaved with the night air as I nodded at her. She wasn’t trying to be cruel. I could logically see this despite wanting to yell at her for keeping anything from me.
“I can see it,” Gabriel said.
It was enough to snap both Belladonna’s attention and mine, towards him and away from the hold we had on each other. Gabriel was standing, his head slightly craned upwards, arm outstretched. Slowly, he traced an outline. I could not see what the two of them did, but Belladonna nodded in confirmation when he was finished.
“It means it tore a bit more,” she said softly.
“You believe this to be a tear within the actual Night Market then.” Gabriel did not state it as a question. It was clear he thought this as well and was merely looking for a confirmation to his own suspicion.
“There is very little else it could be,” Belladonna said.
“And what? You two think I went through that?” The pain in my gut was still sharp from when I had been pulled back. It felt as if someone had hooked me behind my bellybutton and yanked.
Gabriel shook his head. “That would be preposterous.”
“Yet would make sense,” Belladonna countered. “It is technically their ‘gate’, is it not? The magic is only responding to what it knows.”
“That does not explain what they saw or who the man was.”
I swallowed. “Is there a possibility that that was another world? That that was my world? Maybe I went through my gate for the time being and saw what home was.” Yet none of it struck me as familiar and it looked too similar to where we now stood.
Gabriel sighed. “Belladonna is correct. This is all speculation and I am unsure if that will do us any good. Our best bet is to go back to the Albright’s and share what we have discovered today. Perhaps they have gained new information from the refugees as well.”
[[Agree]]
[[No. I want to try going back through]]
[[I want to go through but need to trust that Gabriel and Belladonna have my best interest at heart]]“Please.” My voice was cracked with emotion, bordering on tears. “You are praised as the person within the Night Market who knows everything. I need answers. I feel so lost with each new thing we discover and feel as if it only leads to more and more questions.” Tears pricked my eyes as I begged her to tell me what she knew. Anything. Just anything. It was all I wanted. I wanted to stop bouncing back and forth between whatever it was that I was bouncing between.
I wanted to go home.
I no longer knew what that even meant.
“I assure you,” she said, her voice soft. It was clear that she didn’t like this any more than I did. “I am not keeping anything from you other than mere speculation.”
“Then please just give me your speculation,” I asked.
“Sweetling, I cannot.”
I felt the tears slip down my cheeks at that as I finally was defeated.
“Oh dear heart,” she breathed. “I understand your plight and the desire to discover what secrets lie behind the doors that have been closing to you. But I will not fill your head with inaccuracies to satisfy baseless worries.”
“This is my life,” I protested weakly. “How are my worries baseless?”
“Because they offer you nothing than a false anxiety to dwell upon when the reality of the situation is so far from what we can discern with the few kernels of information we have. When I know something more, which, I will, I shall come to you. I swear it by every lantern that lights our sky.”
My chest heaved but she stood before me, a pillar of collected confidence. The exact antithesis to what I was feeling.
“I can see it,” Gabriel said.
I took deep and calming breaths, letting the air fill my aching chest. I could feel the emotion prick high on my cheeks and knew that if I didn’t gain control of myself now, I would lose what little hold I had left. The market itself was becoming a miasma of confusion that was threatening to suffocate me if I would let it. So I was going to refuse to let it win.
“I assure you,” Belladonna’s voice came through, giving me something to cling to while I centered. “I am not keeping anything from you other than mere speculation. When I know something more, which, I will, I shall come to you. But until then, the answer to your demands about the small picture I may or may not be forming, is no.”
My chest heaved with the night air as I nodded at her. She wasn’t trying to be cruel. I could logically see this despite wanting to yell at her for keeping anything from me.
“I can see it,” Gabriel said.
It was enough to snap both Belladonna’s attention and mine, towards him and away from the hold we had on each other. Gabriel was standing, his head slightly craned upwards, arm outstretched. Slowly, he traced an outline. I could not see what the two of them did, but Belladonna nodded in confirmation when he was finished.
“It means it tore a bit more,” she said softly.
“You believe this to be a tear within the actual Night Market then.” Gabriel did not state it as a question. It was clear he thought this as well and was merely looking for a confirmation to his own suspicion.
“There is very little else it could be,” Belladonna said.
“And what? You two think I went through that?” The pain in my gut was still sharp from when I had been pulled back. It felt as if someone had hooked me behind my bellybutton and yanked.
Gabriel shook his head. “That would be preposterous.”
“Yet would make sense,” Belladonna countered. “It is technically their ‘gate’, is it not? The magic is only responding to what it knows.”
“That does not explain what they saw or who the man was.”
I swallowed. “Is there a possibility that that was another world? That that was my world? Maybe I went through my gate for the time being and saw what home was.” Yet none of it struck me as familiar and it looked too similar to where we now stood.
Gabriel sighed. “Belladonna is correct. This is all speculation and I am unsure if that will do us any good. Our best bet is to go back to the Albright’s and share what we have discovered today. Perhaps they have gained new information from the refugees as well.”
[[Agree]]
[[No. I want to try going back through]]
[[I want to go through but need to trust that Gabriel and Belladonna have my best interest at heart]]I took deep and calming breaths, letting the air fill my aching chest. I could feel the emotion prick high on my cheeks and knew that if I didn’t gain control of myself now, I would lose what little hold I had left. The market itself was becoming a miasma of confusion that was threatening to suffocate me if I would let it. So I was going to refuse to let it win.
“I assure you,” Belladonna’s voice came through, giving me something to cling to while I centered. “I am not keeping anything from you other than mere speculation. When I know something more, which, I will, I shall come to you. But until then, the answer to your demands about the small picture I may or may not be forming, is no.”
My chest heaved with the night air as I nodded at her. She wasn’t trying to be cruel. I could logically see this despite wanting to yell at her for keeping anything from me.
“I can see it,” Gabriel said.
It was enough to snap both Belladonna’s attention and mine, towards him and away from the hold we had on each other. Gabriel was standing, his head slightly craned upwards, arm outstretched. Slowly, he traced an outline. I could not see what the two of them did, but Belladonna nodded in confirmation when he was finished.
“It means it tore a bit more,” she said softly.
“You believe this to be a tear within the actual Night Market then.” Gabriel did not state it as a question. It was clear he thought this as well and was merely looking for a confirmation to his own suspicion.
“There is very little else it could be,” Belladonna said.
“And what? You two think I went through that?” The pain in my gut was still sharp from when I had been pulled back. It felt as if someone had hooked me behind my bellybutton and yanked.
Gabriel shook his head. “That would be preposterous.”
“Yet would make sense,” Belladonna countered. “It is technically their ‘gate’, is it not? The magic is only responding to what it knows.”
“That does not explain what they saw or who the man was.”
I swallowed. “Is there a possibility that that was another world? That that was my world? Maybe I went through my gate for the time being and saw what home was.” Yet none of it struck me as familiar and it looked too similar to where we now stood.
Gabriel sighed. “Belladonna is correct. This is all speculation and I am unsure if that will do us any good. Our best bet is to go back to the Albright’s and share what we have discovered today. Perhaps they have gained new information from the refugees as well.”
[[Agree]]
[[No. I want to try going back through]]
[[I want to go through but need to trust that Gabriel and Belladonna have my best interest at heart]]
I couldn’t disagree. As I looked at where the tear was supposed to be, I felt a sharp sense of caution course through me. There was more information that laid beyond where the rip was hiding but it was not the type of information I would be able to get tonight. Not without putting myself and possibly the market at risk. We had discovered so much already tonight and while it didn’t feel like enough, I was beginning to wonder if it ever would.
With a slow nod, I turned to the two of them. “Alright,” I agreed. “I think you’re right.” It felt like a failure though, when I glanced back and where I had come through. The entire situation felt like a failure that was firmly being placed on my shoulders.
As Gabriel made his way down the alley, back through the dark passage of broken lanterns, I stood for one long moment, staring at the world around me. How was it that we had gained so much and so very little at once.
Next to me, Belladonna brushed her hand against my own. “Tonight, be defeated,” she said. “But tomorrow, continue forward with resolve and your chin held high.”
She walked after Gabriel, the click of her heels echoing through the alley and away from me. I watched her go, feeling a cold wind at my back.
Up above, another lantern blinked out.
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]No. It wasn’t the right course of action. Leaving now could be leaving behind our one chance at finding out what was happening within this world. That man knew something. He just had to.
“Let me go back,” I told Gabriel. “I think it could help. The Night Market just proved that it will spit me back here. Let me go back.”
“Under no circumstance will I be letting you do that,” Gabriel said firmly. “And before you attempt to do it anyway, let me guarantee you that Ms. Malady and I are faster and stronger than you and will not hesitate to take you out of this alley and to your own safety.”
Belladonna sighed, her skirt swaying in the night wind and wrapping around her thighs. “It’s true, dear heart. Dangerous games are no place for mere mortals such as yourself.”
“But…”
Gabriel held up his hand. “I will not hear of it.”
My shoulders slumped. I knew they could stop me. There was no doubt in my mind that if I ran towards the tear, they’d get there first. That was even assuming I could get through it again as it was.
Conceding, I nodded my head, feeling defeated and alone once more.
As Gabriel made his way down the alley, back through the dark passage of broken lanterns, I stood for one long moment, staring at the world around me. How was it that we had gained so much and so very little at once.
Next to me, Belladonna brushed her hand against my own. “Tonight, be defeated,” she said. “But tomorrow, continue forward with resolve and your chin held high.”
She walked after Gabriel, the click of her heels echoing through the alley and away from me. I watched her go, feeling a cold wind at my back.
Up above, another lantern blinked out.
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]I wanted to argue. As I looked at where the tear was supposed to be, I wanted nothing more than to argue that we should stay. Maybe find if I could go back through. If it had happened once we had the potential of recreating it. Now that I was aware of what was going on I could maybe ask the man the proper questions. Search the area a bit more. I had only stood within the alley. I had not ventured further. Perhaps there was more to be seen.
But in the end, I knew they were right. Waltzing through a tear in the world that I had no knowledge of was not a course of action advisable to anyone. With a heavy sigh, I nodded, feeling defeated all over again.
As Gabriel made his way down the alley, back through the dark passage of broken lanterns, I stood for one long moment, staring at the world around me. How was it that we had gained so much and so very little at once.
Next to me, Belladonna brushed her hand against my own. “Tonight, be defeated,” she said. “But tomorrow, continue forward with resolve and your chin held high.”
She walked after Gabriel, the click of her heels echoing through the alley and away from me. I watched her go, feeling a cold wind at my back.
Up above, another lantern blinked out.
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]I stared at the door for a solid minute, almost certain that I would hear Gabriel and Belladonna bickering all the way down the burnt out alley. When the door did not open again, I let a slow breath out. “Well, that was interesting.”
Milo snorted from behind me. “That was the Bella and Gabe shitshow.”
“Milo,” Hazel admonished. “That’s not nice.”
“But it’s the truth.”
“Belladonna and Gabriel were just never given the opportunity to resolve what happened. You shouldn’t mock them for that.”
“Is it mocking when they bring it to our door?” he mused.
Turning, I glanced at Milo. He was picking at the food that had been lain out. Hazel was standing awkwardly close by, her hands gripping the back of the couch as she shifted from foot to foot. Both of them looked rung out after speaking of Malcolm. Awkward silence was filling the room now that it was emptier. Say whatever you wanted about Belladonna, but she kept conversation moving.
Standing, Hazel cleared her throat. “I better go gather some supplies for the refugee’s,” she said softly. “It looked as if there was a need for more blankets. And I thought the stew that we made this morning would be of better use there.” She didn’t look at me as she spoke. Only shuffled by and made her way into the back room.
[[Go after her]]
[[Give her a moment]]
I thought for sure the bickering would pick back up the second the door closed. I was almost certain that the wisps would take flight to try and escape the barbed jabs they sent one another. Or at least, the poking ones that Belladonna prodded Gabriel with in hopes that his cool facade would crack.
“Should they really be alone with each other?” I asked when I heard nothing from the other side of the door.
“They’ll be okay,” Hazel assured. Though I wasn’t sure she even believed her words. “They are both professionals at the end of the day. I’m sure they can work together just fine.”
“Or kill each other,” Milo quipped.
Turning, I glanced at Milo. He was picking at the food that had been lain out. Hazel was standing awkwardly close by, her hands gripping the back of the couch as she shifted from foot to foot. Both of them looked rung out after speaking of Malcolm. Awkward silence was filling the room now that it was emptier. Say whatever you wanted about Belladonna, but she kept conversation moving.
Standing, Hazel cleared her throat. “I better go gather some supplies for the refugee’s,” she said softly. “It looked as if there was a need for more blankets. And I thought the stew that we made this morning would be of better use there.” She didn’t look at me as she spoke. Only shuffled by and made her way into the back room.
[[Go after her]]
[[Give her a moment]]
“They have a history together, don’t they.” The tension that had iced the room was suddenly gone. I stared at the now closed door, wondering just what kind of conversation would take place as they searched the gates together. I doubted Gabriel would make it to two gates with her with the way he was looking. Belladonna seemed to take a certain glee in making him uncomfortable.
“Belladonna and Gabriel have known each other for a long time,” Hazel said softly. Diplomatically.
“And as you can see,” Milo continued. “It didn’t end well.”
Turning, I glanced at Milo. He was picking at the food that had been lain out. Hazel was standing awkwardly close by, her hands gripping the back of the couch as she shifted from foot to foot. Both of them looked rung out after speaking of Malcolm. Awkward silence was filling the room now that it was emptier. Say whatever you wanted about Belladonna, but she kept conversation moving.
Standing, Hazel cleared her throat. “I better go gather some supplies for the refugee’s,” she said softly. “It looked as if there was a need for more blankets. And I thought the stew that we made this morning would be of better use there.” She didn’t look at me as she spoke. Only shuffled by and made her way into the back room.
[[Go after her]]
[[Give her a moment]]
I glanced at Milo who nodded to me in understanding. I was almost certain he would have gone after her if I had not been here, and was grateful for a few moments to process his own emotions.
Slipping through the back door I found her. Her back was to me as she stared at the wall of shelves where she kept her winter preserves. I remember having thought it was funny when I had first arrived, how someone so small felt the need to store so much. Now I knew that it wasn’t for her.
“I think I have some extra loaves of bread that I can bring along with the jam. Children like jam.” There was a high, thready quality to her voice. A shake that was prominent as she rhythmically clenched and unclenched her fists.
“Hazel?”
“Also, we should probably bring them some extra water. It’s important to stay hydrated. Especially given where they are at.”
She was shaking. I could see it in the set of her shoulders.
[[Go over and hug her]]
[[Is there anything I can do?]]
[[Give her a minute to gather herself]]I let her go. It looked as if she needed to gather herself. Talking about her brother was not something I think she was often able to do comfortably, and reliving his final moments had probably shifted her world once more. I decided to give her a moment, but keep a close eye on her later.
Instead, I turned to Milo. He had risen from the sofa, his back popping as he stretched and made his way across the room. It looked like he was going to follow her for a minute but he himself looked too wrung out to provide much comfort. Instead, he leaned against one of the beams that separated the shop from the seating area, crossing his arms against his chest. The cigarette was now tucked away, along with the lighter, and his hands were dug deep in his pockets.
He nodded his head towards the door Hazel had disappeared through. “Don’t be too hard on her, yeah? She was doing what she needed to.”
[[I’m not angry. Upset. But not angry]]
[[No. I understand why you guys didn’t tell me anything]]
[[I can understand why she didn’t tell me but why didn’t you]]Frowning, I looked at him. What kind of person would I be to be angry at her for not wanting to relive her brother's death? I had no doubt in my mind that Hazel would have eventually told me. I doubted she was someone that could keep a secret for long. I was just sad that the truth had been forced out of her.
“I’m not angry at her,” I assured him. There was a brief sag to his shoulders, my words relieving. “I’m upset because I’m pretty sure I’ve asked several times if any of you knew who the last Gatekeeper was, but I get why you didn’t tell me.”
“But you’re still upset?” he asked.
“How can I not be? I want to go home, Milo. I am trying to find out what happened to me and this is information that could have helped me.” Before he could say anything more, I raised my hand and stopped him. “I will get over it, though. Just give me a little time.”
He looked as if he were about to protest but nodded his head, dropping his eyes downwards.
[[Go over and comfort him]]
[[Fine. I’ll believe that until you tell me otherwise]]Frowning, I looked at him. What kind of person would I be to not understand why they had been hesitant to share this part of their life with me? I had no doubt in my mind that Hazel would have eventually told me what had happened. She was too kind of a person to keep something that might have a bearing on my situation. I was just sorry that it came out this way. That she had been forced to speak.
“I understand,” I assured him. There was a brief sag to his shoulders, my words relieving. “I cannot imagine what you all went through. I can’t imagine continuing to work in this shop after what you both saw. Please don’t think I’m going to be angry or upset at you two over this.”
He stared at me, his gaze unreadable. There was something behind his eyes though. Regret? Grief? I couldn’t tell. It made my heart ache to think of what hearing all of this had done to the two of them. Ten years and the events were still raw in their eyes.
“Thank you for telling me,” I said quietly. “I appreciate that you all trusted me with this.”
He cleared his throat, clearing not having expected the conversation to go this way. It made him uncomfortable for some reason and I couldn’t figure out why.
“Malcolm is… was, very important to me. To Hazel. It’s still not something I can think about.”
I nodded in understanding. I couldn’t imagine having to.
[[Go over and comfort him]]
[[Fine. I’ll believe that until you tell me otherwise]]
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked. Despite having worked close to Hazel for the last few weeks, I understood why she had kept her silence about her brother. What I didn’t get was why everyone else had as well. Why was his status as a Gatekeeper such a secret even now, after his death.
“Didn’t realize it was my job to,” Milo said, voice even.
“Malcolm was Hazel’s brother,” I continued. “I get why she of all people didn’t say anything. I doubt she wanted to relive his death.”
He looked at me, hurt coloring his eyes for a moment. “And you think I do?”
The pain that was in his voice was raw and unguarded. I could see his fingers twitching for the cigarette once more. “I don’t know what Malcolm was to you,” I said slowly. “I guess what I’m asking is… I don’t know what I’m asking.”
“Yeah you do. Just fucking say it.”
[[No. I’m sorry. This entire night is out of control]]
[[Who was Malcolm Albright to you?]]
I approached her slowly, my arms wrapping around her from behind. For a moment, I felt her try to keep her composure. Her shoulders tensed slightly, and she continued to stare straight ahead. Then I felt them fall. The sob that escaped her lips was gut-wrenching as she turned in my arms and buried her face in my chest. I held her close, letting her cry against me.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry. I- I don’t know what came over me.”
I did. Anyone who had been in that room would have known. But Hazel was the one who always tried to stay positive. That was there for others. Even her break down was meant to be silent in the back room.
“Don’t apologize,” I told her.
It made her cry harder. Ugly sobs against my chest as her hands came up and wrapped against the fabric of my clothes. “I just miss him so much,” she said after a long moment. Pulling away, she wiped at her face. “He was my best friend.”
Wiping at her eyes, she took a deep breath, trying to clear push out the rest of the emotions. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were streaks, the freckled upon them standing out more in her anguish.
“I’m sorry. Now is not the time. I need to get this stuff together for the refugees."
[[You can take a moment]]
[[Let me help you then]]
[[That was a lot that just happened]]I could tell she was crying. Discreetly, she tried to wipe at her eyes before placing her hands firmly on her hips, still staring at the supplies she had stored here. I wanted to help her. I wanted to just be of use. The people who had sat around that table with me all had a history. A life that reached far beyond what I had known. And tonight, old wounds had been opened, the scab that had formed through the years tearing in two.
Stepping up to her side, I looked at her out of the corner of my eye but matched her pose. “Well, then how can I help?”
Her tears streaked face looked at me, startled. She had been expecting push back, maybe. When I continued to stare at the jars of preserves, letting her take the lead, a soft sigh of gratitude escaped her.
“I– they’re going to need food. Stuff that lasts. Any of this should be fine. There’s also some bread over in the dry cupboard. I’ve already gathered the blankets.”
I nodded. “Utensils might be helpful too if they don’t already have them at the place you’re keeping everyone.”
She brightened. “That’s a great idea. Anything we can do to make it feel more like home.”
Silently, we worked together, gathering the supplies for our journey to the refugee camp. When a big enough hoard had been reached, Hazel observed it all carefully, taking a mental calculation.
“Thank you,” she said. It was said so quietly I nearly didn’t hear it. She didn’t give me a chance to respond either. Instead, she bent down, taking the rug we had piled everything on by opposite ends, and began to drag it back into the main room.
[[Next|Main room]]I could tell she was crying. Discreetly, she tried to wipe at her eyes before placing her hands firmly on her hips, still staring at the supply she had stored here. I wanted to help her. I wanted to just be of use. The people who had sat around that table with me all had a history. A life that reached far beyond what I had known. And tonight, old wounds had been opened, the scab that had formed through the years tearing in two.
Stepping up to her side, I said nothing. Just began to gather what was in front of me, hoping that my actions proved to her that I was on her side. I could see her pause and look at me out of the corner of her eye, having expected that I would have pushed her to talk. Or at least called her out on the tears that were staining her cheeks. When I grabbed a jar of questionable looking fruit, I held it out to her instead.
“Think they would like this?”
She blinked, sniffing a little. “Yeah. Yeah, I think they really would.”
Silently, we worked together, gathering the supplies for our journey to the refugee camp. When a big enough hoard had been reached, Hazel observed it all carefully, taking a mental calculation.
“Thank you,” she said. It was said so quietly I nearly didn’t hear it. She didn’t give me a chance to respond either. Instead, she bent down, taking the rug we had piled everything on by opposite ends, and began to drag it back into the main room.
[[Next|Main room]]“Milo,” Hazel called as we pushed our haul through the back door. “Can you come take some of this?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got delicate hands.”
It was clear that he had been taking a few moments for himself as well. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and when he came over to take the pack from Hazel, he drew her into his arms. I averted my eyes as the two of them whispered together, taking a moment of comfort that only came from the people who could truly understand.
“Well,” he said as he pulled away. “Let’s get this stuff packed up and get out of here. I’m sure by now good old Gabe has snapped and him and Belladonna are in a full on brawl somewhere in the alleyways. Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll hear the echoes of it throughout the streets. Like a haunting little jig.”
Together, the three of us dispersed the goods into packs, swinging them over our backs so they wouldn’t be so much of a burden. “I know I’ll have to make another run tomorrow but this should get them through the night. Should we stop by the market and get the children a few things?”
“Yeah,” Milo nodded. “Think we should.”
“No stealing,” Hazel admonished. She was gathering a warm cloak to wrap around herself. “I’m gonna go turn the hoses on in the garden before we leave, okay? Now more than ever we need to make sure those vegetable patches produce enough food.” I could see the wheels turning as she slipped out the side door. Already, Hazel was planning out all the ways she could make the lives of these newcomers better.
“Is she okay?” Milo asked by my side.
“I think so.” I really didn’t know though. He knew her better than me and I was unsure if she was simply burying her feelings or if this was how she processed the things she had been through.
“I’ll stay the night here tonight,” he told me. “Make sure I’m nearby if she needs to talk.”
“She can talk to me too,” I told him.
He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes, trying to decide if he was okay with this. If he trusted me enough with Hazel’s emotions. “Thanks,” he said slowly. “I’m sure she’ll take you up on that.”
Picking up his pack, he shifted the weight around a bit. Then, the two of us went outside, leaving the apothecary behind.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH]]“Hazel,” I said gently. “You can take a minute. Everything that was said out there couldn’t have been easy to go through again.”
“It wasn’t,” she said, clearing her throat and desperately trying to calm the shaking in her hands. “But it was ten years ago for me. What the people that came through the gate are going through, they are going through now. I don’t need to be sitting in the back room and grieving over something I had ample time to grieve over.”
She tilted her head towards me, clearly begging me to please not press further. I wondered if any of them had dealt with this man's death. Or if it was something they had tried to shove aside in the hopes that he would walk back through the door and make it okay again.
“Come on,” she said. Walking over to the shelves, she began pulling down various jars, packing them into baskets. “I want to take as much as we can carry.”
I stared at her for a moment, feeling my heart ache with the anguish that was written in deep lines across her face. The only thing I could do to help her right now seemed to be this. So, I went to her side and started taking down jars, the contents of which I was unsure of. But Hazel didn’t stop me and as the moments of silence ticked by, I could feel her slowly gain the composure she had craved.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment.
“For what?”
“For understanding. For not yelling at me.”
Bending down, she piled the last of the supplies together, all of which was on a rug. With a little consideration, she grabbed the rug at the edge and began dragging it.
“Let’s go get, Milo. I don’t want to make the refugees wait any longer.”
[[Next|Main room]]As she pulled away completely, I watched as her eyes flitted across the store room, obviously unseeing to what was in front of her and still trying to shake herself from her past.
“Then let me help you,” I said gently, going to her side and taking stock of what we needed to bring. If this was the only thing I could do to ease her grief, then it was what I would do.
I stared at her for a moment, feeling my heart ache with the anguish that was written in deep lines across her face. Taking down jars, the contents of which I was unsure of, I began setting them next to the hoard pile that Hazel had begun to form. Silence ticked by as we both worked and next to me, Hazel gathered the composure she craved.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment.
“For what?”
“For understanding. For not yelling at me.”
Bending down, she piled the last of the supplies together, all of which was on a rug. With a little consideration, she grabbed the rug at the edge and began dragging it.
“Let’s go get, Milo. I don’t want to make the refugees wait any longer.”
[[[Next|Main room]]“That was a lot,” I told her. It was far more than I had pieced together so far. Somehow, I had wandered into the very den of the people who had the last known living connection to the Gatekeeper. The very one that could send me home. It was a lot for all of us, in the end. It was going to take time to unpack and understand.
“I don’t like that it came out like that,” she said, her hands shaking. “I- I wanted to tell you differently. You //deserved// to find out differently. I’m sorry.”
The apology was one that I wasn’t sure she needed to give, but the fact that she did, spoke loudly of the kind of person she truly was. “Do you want to talk about it further?”
She shook her head quickly. “Not right now. Please. I- I just–” Walking over to the shelves, she began pulling down various jars, packing them into baskets. “I want to take as much as we can carry.”
I stared at her for a moment, feeling my heart ache with the anguish that was written in deep lines across her face. The only thing I could do to help her right now seemed to be this. So, I went to her side and started taking down jars, the contents of which I was unsure of. But Hazel didn’t stop me and as the moments of silence ticked by, I could feel her slowly gain the composure she had craved.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment.
“For what?”
“For understanding. For not yelling at me.”
Bending down, she piled the last of the supplies together, all of which was on a rug. With a little consideration, she grabbed the rug at the edge and began dragging it.
“Let’s go get, Milo. I don’t want to make the refugees wait any longer.”
[[Next|Main room]]I recoiled at that. Not used to Milo’s tone turning dark and biting. There was something more to the story. Of that I was sure. But it wasn’t my place. I didn’t know why I had had the urge to even press. These people had entire lives before me and they did not owe me anything.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, making sure to take a step back from him. Physical distance at the very least would show that I was not trying to push. “I shouldn’t have– This entire night feels out of control.”
I could feel his eyes on me then. They softened a bit at my words. Maybe he was subject to the live wire of tension that had been pulsing since the gate opened. He, after all, was one of the first to begin dealing with it. Had been out most of the evening trying to set things right.
“I’m sorry too,” he said softly. My head snapped up to look at him. His head was back against the support beam, his hands hanging uselessly at his side. “Malcolm is… was, very important to me. To Hazel. I’m sorry we’ve been cagey fuckers.”
I nodded in understanding.
When the back door creaked open, Milo ran his fingers through his hair, clearing his throat. Hazel appeared with a pile of blankets and a large basket filled with preserves.
“It’s heavy,” she warned as I rushed over to help her. “Milo? Think you can take it?”
He laughed a little. “You’re stronger than I am.”
Together, the three of us dispersed the goods into packs, swinging them over our backs so they wouldn’t be so much of a burden. “I know I’ll have to make another run tomorrow but this should get them through the night. Should we stop by the market and get the children a few things?”
“Yeah,” Milo nodded. “Think we should.”
“No stealing,” Hazel admonished.
It was very clear that Milo was not answering her and was now walking out the door with a grin and a whistle. Things rightfully back in place. It was almost jarring how quickly he could flip. When the door shut behind him, Hazel leveled her gaze on me. “Is he okay?”
I stared after him. “I don’t know,” I told her truthfully.
“Please don’t think badly of him.”
Turning, I offered Hazel a soft smile. “Funny. He asked me the same thing of you.”
“That night changed us,” Hazel said in a hurry. “Milo doesn’t have the same beliefs as me. He doesn’t believe that Mal is coming home. In some ways, I thought that might help him. Have him not dwell like he’s prone to doing. But, I don’t know. When he can’t even say his name…” she trailed off. Obviously, this was not the first time she was at a loss over what to do about Milo and that evening.
“Let’s just focus on what we’re supposed to be doing,” I suggested. Nothing was going to get solved tonight. Not with the situation of Malcolm. The best I could hope for was now that the wound was lying open, maybe we could begin to heal it. But that wasn’t going to happen while the world was tearing apart.
Hazel nodded her head gratefully, and together we made it out of the shop.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH]]
“Who was he?” I asked immediately. There was a bite to his tone like I had never heard before, and it made my own ire rise. “You avoid even speaking his name. You acted until now like you either didn’t know the guy or barely did. But apparently that is far from true. So who was he to you?”
I saw his hands clench at his side and I realized now that Milo did not deal with confrontation well. I could see the urge on his face to fight back. To lash out in anger at my words. At the situation we were faced with. At the entirety of the evening around the table. But he didn’t. With a twitch of his head I watched as his jaw clenched and he took a deep breath.
It turned out, Belladonna was not the only one proficient at putting on masks.
Milo swallowed, turning his head away. The light from the stained-glass filtered in, dotting across his face. “He was just a good friend,” he said.
[[Liar|Chapter Four liar]]
[[Go over and comfort him]]
[[Fine. I’ll believe that until you tell me otherwise]]Walking over, I wrapped my arms around him. It was the only thing I could think of to do after seeing that look in his eyes. His skin was warm against mine, the press of all his trinkets making themselves known against my chest. I felt him hesitate. <<if $milodance == "true">>The charmer who had called for me to dance with him in the rain. Who had kissed me beneath dew drenched lanterns. He hesitated.<</if>>
Then, his arms came up around me and I felt him pull me close.
“I’m sorry you had to relieve that night too,” I whispered to him.
I could feel him swallow against me, ducking his head so I could not see his face. “Yeah,” he whispered. There was really nothing else to say to that.
We stood there for a few moments, breathing each other in and feeling the way our bodies molded against each other in a display of comfort. It felt right somehow. Milo fit against me in an unexpected way and was all consuming with his touch. It felt nice to feel that trust.
When the back door creaked open, we slowly pulled apart. Milo ran his fingers through his hair, clearing his throat, while I looked towards where Hazel appeared. She had piles of blankets and large baskets filled with preserves and sealed bowls of stew.
“It’s heavy,” she warned as I rushed over to help her. “Milo? Think you can take it?”
He laughed a little. “You’re stronger than I am.”
Together, the three of us dispersed the goods into packs, swinging them over our backs so they wouldn’t be so much of a burden. “I know I’ll have to make another run tomorrow but this should get them through the night. Should we stop by the market and get the children a few things?”
“Yeah,” Milo nodded. “Think we should.”
“No stealing,” Hazel admonished.
It was very clear that Milo was not answering her and was now walking out the door with a grin and a whistle. Things rightfully back in place. It was almost jarring how quickly he could flip. When the door shut behind him, Hazel leveled her gaze on me. “Is he okay?”
I stared after him. “I don’t know,” I told her truthfully.
“Please don’t think badly of him.”
Turning, I offered Hazel a soft smile. “Funny. He asked me the same thing of you.”
“That night changed us,” Hazel said in a hurry. “Milo doesn’t have the same beliefs as me. He doesn’t believe that Mal is coming home. In some ways, I thought that might help him. Have him not dwell like he’s prone to doing. But, I don’t know. When he can’t even say his name…” she trailed off. Obviously, this was not the first time she was at a loss over what to do about Milo and that evening.
“Let’s just focus on what we’re supposed to be doing,” I suggested. Nothing was going to get solved tonight. Not with the situation of Malcolm. The best I could hope for was now that the wound was lying open, maybe we could begin to heal it. But that wasn’t going to happen while the world was tearing apart.
Hazel nodded her head gratefully, and together we made it out of the shop.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH]]
There was more. I didn’t quite know what, but I would believe him. I think it was important that I did. At least for now. In the end, it wasn’t really my position to press either. Not after knowing what we were set to do.
“Okay,” I said with a small sigh. Now was not the time to go about this with him. “I believe you. But Milo. If you ever need to talk about this. Tell me something different. I’ll understand.”
He didn’t say anything to that. Only nodded his head slightly, a barely conceived movement. When the back door creaked back open, he turned away, not ready to look at Hazel yet. Or me for that matter. I stalled for him, turning towards the woman who was now pulling piles of blankets and food out from the storeroom to bring to the refugees.
“It’s heavy,” she warned as I rushed over to help her. “Milo? Think you can take it?”
He laughed a little. “You’re stronger than I am.”
Together, the three of us dispersed the goods into packs, swinging them over our backs so they wouldn’t be so much of a burden. “I know I’ll have to make another run tomorrow but this should get them through the night. Should we stop by the market and get the children a few things?”
“Yeah,” Milo nodded. “Think we should.”
“No stealing,” Hazel admonished.
It was very clear that Milo was not answering her and was now walking out the door with a grin and a whistle. Things rightfully back in place. It was almost jarring how quickly he could flip. When the door shut behind him, Hazel leveled her gaze on me. “Is he okay?”
I stared after him. “I don’t know,” I told her truthfully.
“Please don’t think badly of him.”
Turning, I offered Hazel a soft smile. “Funny. He asked me the same thing of you.”
“That night changed us,” Hazel said in a hurry. “Milo doesn’t have the same beliefs as me. He doesn’t believe that Mal is coming home. In some ways, I thought that might help him. Have him not dwell like he’s prone to doing. But, I don’t know. When he can’t even say his name…” she trailed off. Obviously, this was not the first time she was at a loss over what to do about Milo and that evening.
“Let’s just focus on what we’re supposed to be doing,” I suggested. Nothing was going to get solved tonight. Not with the situation of Malcolm. The best I could hope for was now that the wound was lying open, maybe we could begin to heal it. But that wasn’t going to happen while the world was tearing apart.
Hazel nodded her head gratefully, and together we made it out of the shop.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH]]
“Liar,” I whispered. There was something so much more there. Like Gabriel and Belladonna, the unsaid filled the room to nearly a breaking point. I could feel it like a dull itch against my skin.
At my words, he looked at me sharply. I wondered how long he would keep it up. The obvious amount of mistrust he spun at me was unraveling between us.
“My relationship with– with him, is none of your business. He’s dead. He’s not coming back. Now, whether or not his status as a Gatekeeper actually helps you? I don’t know. But who he was to me, who he was to Hazel, has no bearing on this what so ever.”
The back door creaked open then, revealing Hazel dragging blankets and baskets of preserves into the main room. Milo stalked away when I broke my gaze with him, going to a darker corner of the room to collect himself. I nearly pressed further, going after him until it was all out in the open. But in the end, Hazel’s struggle with the provisions for the refugees won out. I wasn’t done with Milo, though. Not by a long shot.
“It’s heavy,” she warned as I rushed over to help her. “Milo? Think you can take it?”
He laughed a little. “You’re stronger than I am.”
Together, the three of us dispersed the goods into packs, swinging them over our backs so they wouldn’t be so much of a burden. “I know I’ll have to make another run tomorrow but this should get them through the night. Should we stop by the market and get the children a few things?”
“Yeah,” Milo nodded. “Think we should.”
“No stealing,” Hazel admonished.
It was very clear that Milo was not answering her and was now walking out the door with a grin and a whistle. Things rightfully back in place. It was almost jarring how quickly he could flip. When the door shut behind him, Hazel leveled her gaze on me. “Is he okay?”
I stared after him. “I don’t know,” I told her truthfully.
“Please don’t think badly of him.”
Turning, I offered Hazel a soft smile. “Funny. He asked me the same thing of you.”
“That night changed us,” Hazel said in a hurry. “Milo doesn’t have the same beliefs as me. He doesn’t believe that Mal is coming home. In some ways, I thought that might help him. Have him not dwell like he’s prone to doing. But, I don’t know. When he can’t even say his name…” she trailed off. Obviously, this was not the first time she was at a loss over what to do about Milo and that evening.
“Let’s just focus on what we’re supposed to be doing,” I suggested. Nothing was going to get solved tonight. Not with the situation of Malcolm. The best I could hope for was now that the wound was lying open, maybe we could begin to heal it. But that wasn’t going to happen while the world was tearing apart.
Hazel nodded her head gratefully, and together we made it out of the shop.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH]]
<<set $perception ++>>We walked down the burnt out alley together, the three of us trading very few words, before veering towards the Spice Market. The door was still stood open, a Velvet Guard standing at the entrance to make sure no one messed with it. It was glowing faintly in the middle of the alley and for the most part, the spectacle of it had seemed to wear off. The vendors were continuing to hawk their goods and life around the gate, continued as usual.
Passing a few of the familiar stalls, Hazel and Milo smiled or nodded at the vendors before they led me down a spiral set of stone stairs that edged downwards into an entirely different level of the market. One that I hadn’t even been aware of. The even spread of the market was something I had just assumed, but as we wound our way through a stone stairwell, the sights and sound of the Spice District left to the world above, I realized that there were tiers to this place. I had only been traversing one of them.
The bottom of the stairs opened up to a beautiful array of brightly colored tents and large blankets with beautifully woven patterns. The world around folded into a large dome, the top of which was crumbling dirty with multicolored lanterns hanging from above. The air down here was warmer and smelled of something sweet and as I stood there, taking it in, I could hear soft music playing in the background. It was different than the area’s of the market I had been to before. Brighter and more welcoming, somehow. Even the streets were lined with plush rugs and blankets, hiding the cobblestones and cushioning the fall of what I now realized were children.
A lot of children.
I stood there numbly, looking at them running around. Chubby little legs toddling over stitched swaths of different blankets, all depicting soft looking creatures and peaceful enchanting sceneries.
A few of the children ran up to Hazel upon seeing her, tugging at her skirts and holding out dirty hands. She crouched down, pulling little sweets from her pocket and allowing them to grab them from her.
“What is this place?”
“We call it the Playground. Sounded better than the toy district.”
There were more children here than adults and while all the vendors looked to be of age, I couldn’t help but wonder just where any of the children’s parents were.
“Most of them don’t have them,” Hazel whispered, as if she could read my thoughts. This district was predominantly set up to offer the little ones a safe space where the vendor workers can keep an eye on them. The proceeds from what is sold down here go towards taking care of them all.”
I felt my heart sink. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of the Night Market as a place where children roamed, but the proof was tumbling in front of me. Curly haired children with bright lavender eyes played marbles near a few crates. Little ones with ruddy cheeks sang in a circle, passing around an unfamiliar toy. And bassinets lined the far area in an enclosure of stalls, where I could see bundled babes being rocked to sleep.
“Need to get a stuffed cow,” Milo was saying.
Hazel was emptying the last of what she had shoved in her pockets and shooing the children on their way. “Why a cow?”
“Ever used to have a cow. I want to make sure she has another.” Hazel nodded at him, a sad smile on her lips, as Milo began looking at the overflowing baskets of stuffed creatures that lined the stalls. A few of the plush animals were nabbed for the refugees while Hazel began gathering wooden trinkets for the older children to play with.
[[How many children came through?]]
[[This looks like something you two are used to doing]]
[[What can I do to help?]]
I felt at a loss as I watched them work. It was with a quick efficiency that they wandered the stalls, gathering toys without much thought. I had a suspicion that there was still care in their choices. It was just that they had done this far too often by now.
“How many children ended up coming through?” I had heard varying accounts so far. They had apparently continued to climb through the open gate for the preceding hour after it had appeared.
“Ten,” Hazel said. “Four of which are a bit older and probably will be starting adulthood far too soon. The rest all ranging from newborn to about five.” Hazel was plucking up various toys to place in her basket. When I reached out to grab it from her, she smiled thankfully at me.
“Did their parents make it?”
Hazel’s lips thinned as she stared at a wooden dragon that she held in her hands. Silently, she shook her head. I was only grateful that at least the little ones might not have any memories of today. It was a small comfort that did little to ease the pain of the situation.
Soon, the basket Hazel had handed me was overflowing with toys. Wooden animals, soft balls, and blocks of various color and size, made up the majority of our haul. Across the way, an old woman was pinching Milo’s cheeks as he was paying for quite the display of stuffed animals. It was clear that they were both paying more than was needed. Though I didn’t see a tag on any of the toys.
“They’re all donation,” Hazel said. “Milo and I try to give more than we should.”
As Milo came back, I looked at him softly. Whether he was doing this or not for Hazel didn’t matter. It was the fact that he was doing it at all.
“Did you find your cow?” I asked.
He held up a small white plush toy with faded black spots. Its eyes were sewn on lopsided and its pink stitched nose was frayed. The little horns coming out of its head drooped to one side. Milo, however, looked pleased with his purchase.
“Who’s Ever?” I asked, nodding to the cow.
“A little girl who hangs out outside my home.”
“Why would a little–”
“She died there,” he said abruptly. I stared at him. That meant she was stuck. Right outside his door.
“How did she die?”
Milo shrugged. “I wasn’t there when it happened. I found her spirit though, sitting on the crates outside.”
[[I felt tears bud my eyes]]
[[I felt anger over the injustice of it all]]
[[Isn’t there any way to put her to rest?]]I felt at a loss as I watched them work. It was with a quick efficiency that they wandered the stalls, gathering toys without much thought. I had a suspicion that there was still care in their choices.
“You two have done this a lot, haven’t you.” It was not a question at all. With the way they moved together, circling the market, I knew that this was no the first of even the fifth time they had done such a thing.
“Milo and I didn’t grow up in the best way,” she said. “We relied on the kindness of others for our survival. I don’t think we realized it at the time, but without them, I doubt we would even be here. So, when the opportunity arose for us to give back, we did it without really much thought.”
I tried to picture the two of them. Little like the children running in and out of the way of the stalls. I wondered what they were like then. If these vendors were the very ones that had taken care of them.
“We do what we can, where we can,” Hazel was saying. “There is no reason not to.”
Soon, the basket Hazel carried was overflowing with toys. Wooden animals, soft balls, and blocks of various color and size, made up the majority of our haul. Across the way, an old woman was pinching Milo’s cheeks as he was paying for quite the display of stuffed animals. It was clear that they were both paying more than was needed. Though I didn’t see a tag on any of the toys.
“They’re all donation,” Hazel said. “Milo and I try to give more than we should.”
As Milo came back, I looked at him softly. Whether he was doing this or not for Hazel didn’t matter. It was the fact that he was doing it at all.
“Did you find your cow?” I asked.
He held up a small white plush toy with faded black spots. Its eyes were sewn on lopsided and its pink stitched nose was frayed. The little horns coming out of its head drooped to one side. Milo, however, looked pleased with his purchase.
“Who’s Ever?” I asked, nodding to the cow.
“A little girl who hangs out outside my home.”
“Why would a little–”
“She died there,” he said abruptly. I stared at him. That meant she was stuck. Right outside his door.
“How did she die?”
Milo shrugged. “I wasn’t there when it happened. I found her spirit though, sitting on the crates outside.”
[[I felt tears bud my eyes]]
[[I felt anger over the injustice of it all]]
[[Isn’t there any way to put her to rest?]]I felt at a loss as I watched them work. It was with a quick efficiency that they wandered the stalls, gathering toys without much thought. I had a suspicion that there was still care in their choices. It was just that they had done this far too often by now.
“What can I do to help?” I asked.
“Anything wooden and solid you can grab, please do,” Hazel was saying. “There is one thing we have learned over the years and that is every child likes wooden animals and blocks for some reason. Milo will have the stuffed animal situation solved. He always does. That, paired with the blankets and food we are bringing, should suffice.”
I started picking up blocks the size of my hand. Color was burned into the surface, making designs and patters on each side of the cube. I tried to pick an array of colors and patterns, not knowing if they meant anything but figuring blocks stacked all the same.
There was also a table with carved animals upon it. I picked up a few shaped like horses and dogs. Cats and small mice. Then there were a few bigger ones. Chimera. Dragons. Gorgons. I didn’t know if they would be too terrifying for a child, but Hazel didn’t seem disturbed by it. I supposed there was a large chance that the children didn’t even know what these were.
Hazel’s basket was soon filled with toys I had picked out, and I watched as she emptied more than enough bits onto a vendor’s counter to pay for them. Across the way, an old woman was pinching Milo’s cheeks as he was paying for quite the display of stuffed animals. It was clear that they were both paying more than was needed. Though I didn’t see a tag on any of the toys.
“They’re all donation,” Hazel said. “Milo and I try to give more than we should.”
As Milo came back, I looked at him softly. Whether he was doing this or not for Hazel didn’t matter. It was the fact that he was doing it at all.
“Did you find your cow?” I asked.
He held up a small white plush toy with faded black spots. Its eyes were sewn on lopsided and its pink stitched nose was frayed. The little horns coming out of its head drooped to one side. Milo, however, looked pleased with his purchase.
“Who’s Ever?” I asked, nodding to the cow.
“A little girl who hangs out outside my home.”
“Why would a little–”
“She died there,” he said abruptly. I stared at him. That meant she was stuck. Right outside his door.
“How did she die?”
Milo shrugged. “I wasn’t there when it happened. I found her spirit though, sitting on the crates outside.”
[[I felt tears bud my eyes]]
[[I felt anger over the injustice of it all]]
[[Isn’t there any way to put her to rest?]]I felt my throat grow thick and the tears sting my eyes. Around me, there was so much life. Giggling children that were making the best of the lives they had been given. It was doubtful any of them had chosen this. Instead, they were all products of other peoples decisions.
I wanted to help. I didn’t want this for the innocents of this world. I didn’t want this for anyone. The glittering lantern light above our heads was so appealing and it did well to hide the horrors of this world.
“How do you guys deal with this?” I asked, blinking up towards the lanterns above. They swirled in dots of multicolored gems, mixing with my tears.
“We got used to it,” Milo said. “Never knew any different.”
His words were cold, but I could see he didn’t feel as detached as he tried to make himself to be.
Next to me, Hazel laid a comforting hand on my arm. “I’m sorry you are only seeing the bad parts of the market. I wish I could show you something different.”
Was there something different? Everything seemed to have an under layer of dystopian despair that felt like a never ending current beneath the city itself. The world was dying, tearing apart, and the people who were meant to govern it seemed to not even care. It was us, a warden, a courtesan, a herbalist and a whatever Milo was, that was meant to try and fix this. It didn’t seem right.
[[I don’t understand how the Barons don’t care]]
[[Couldn’t you relocate people to a new world?]]
[[Why not limit access into the Night Market?]]I looked around at the life that was budding around me. At the children that were laughing. Playing. At the adults who were watching over them. And all the while, I was fully aware of the world above tearing in two. With each new person that ran, life in the Night Market got closer and closer to a demise. And the people who were in charge, were doing nothing about it.
Instead, we were. A group of people who were just trying to live their lives and a person who had lost all their memories for no other reason than probably being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I felt a bitter rage fill me at the thought of it all.
“You’re not the only one,” Milo said next to me. I hadn’t realized I had been speaking out loud. Spewing my thoughts in a vile display in an effort to just wring something good from the world around me. “We’re all angry,” Milo said. “Anyone that knows what’s going on is angry. We just got to get going though, and know that there are options. They may not be great ones, but they’re there.”
“What options?” I snapped. There didn’t seem to be any option that made life here if a bit better.
Milo didn’t take offense to my anger, despite it being flung at him. “The option that says you are going to get up each morning and give the middle finger to the people who are content to sit back and watch us burn. That option.”
[[I don’t understand how the Barons don’t care]]
[[Couldn’t you relocate people to a new world?]]
[[Why not limit access into the Night Market?]]I had been down the burnt alley dozens of times now. I knew that the spirits within the market wandered in place, never straying far from where their body had lain for the last time. But this was a child. If the Night Market was as sentient as everyone kept claiming, surly there was a way to fix this. In a market of endless possibilities, there had to be a way to put the suffering of a child at ease.
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” I asked. “A way to make it so she can be at peace? To move on?”
“Move on to where?” Milo asked. “When you die, you die. You think a kid wants to do that?”
I found myself looking towards Hazel, as if she could offer me a different answer. She was looking back at me, her eyes imploring me to understand. “We have tried, $name. We really have. But so far, neither of us have figured out how to put the spirits at ease.”
“At least with the thinning veil they might be able to move around the market a bit.” Milo was looking at the stuffed cow, holding it delicately in his hand. “For however long that lasts.”
[[I don’t understand how the Barons don’t care]]
[[Couldn’t you relocate people to a new world?]]
[[Why not limit access into the Night Market?]]“How do they not care?” I asked, feeling the emotion stick to my throat. “How are these the people that are meant to regulate the Night Market?”
“I ask myself that every day,” Milo mused.
“Milo,” Hazel started. “Not all of them are bad.”
“Which ones are good?” he asked. “Which ones do not operate with their own intentions at hand?”
Hazel frowned but didn’t say anything further. I didn’t know if she didn’t agree with him because she knew something more, or because she was struggling with her own blind optimism.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH 2]]“If the problem is people coming into the market at too rapid of a rate, couldn’t you relocate some of the refugees? They have no connection to this world. No ties. Couldn’t you help disperse them elsewhere?”
Milo nodded at that. “It’s not a terrible idea, I’ll admit, but then we open ourselves up to danger.”
“The Night Market is secret,” Hazel continued. “If we start placing the refugees across worlds then there is much more of a chance that we would have people flooding in. And then it defeats the purpose.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I took a deep breath. “But if they can’t even see the gate then…”
“We’re assuming they can’t see the gate,” Milo said. “But the refugees do, so it’s obvious that the rules put in place don’t always stay in place.”
That much was clear. Everything seemed so contradictory that my head felt as if it were constantly spinning
[[Next|Chapter Four MH 2]]“Why not limit the amount of people who are let into the Night Market? Make it so there is an occupancy limitation?” It wasn’t a solution. I knew it wasn’t. But it was a band-aid that would potentially buy us more time.
Milo smiled at me. It was one of those smiles where he obviously was humoring me. “Gatekeeper, remember? Open doors are open doors. Unless they are shut, people are going to come through.”
“But there could be someone on the other side. Someone who sends them back.”
Hazel nodded. “The Velvet Guard has proposed that. The Warden is all for it in fact. It would require a lot of manpower, but there is a potential it could be done.”
“But?” I asked. There was obviously a reason they were not doing it.
Milo chuckled. “The good ol’ Baron’s don’t believe the veil is thinning, so they don’t want to spend the effort on orchestrating it. Or approving such a big upheaval of market policy.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Wish that we were,” Hazel said.
“But the world is dying. Whether you believe that or not shouldn’t you at least care? Take precaution in case it is true?”
Milo shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to them, apparently. They either think it's a hoax or that it's so far in the future that they don’t need to worry about it right now.”
I shook my head. The heat from the lanterns bore down on me and I couldn’t decide if the world itself was at a fault for the plight of these people, or if the ones meant to run it could entirely be blamed.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH 2]]
“What is the evidence to the veil thinning? You both sound confident that it is happening. What is your proof? Go over it again even if you sound like you’re repeating yourself.” I needed to understand. To put it all right in my head. Something was just not making sense.
Hazel led us through the back area of the market stalls, holding aside sheets of paisley curtain. The sound of children's laughter faded as we were met with another set of stairs. These ones wooden and appearing just shy of cracking beneath our footsteps.
“Think of the market like a big balloon,” Milo was saying. “You blow air into it. Put things inside it. Jiggle it around. It’s fun. But eventually, there is only so far the balloon can stretch. Worlds are very similar. There is only so much surface area for people to inhabit. The Night Market however has a funny way of making sure that it continues to stretch to provide that surface area. And while the world is malleable, and it tries to accommodate plenty, there is only so much it is going to be able to do. Eventually, holes form, and those holes grow bigger and bigger until there is nothing left but a withered shell of a world that cannot contain all that was put in it any longer. And where do the contents of this balloon go?” He made a whistling sound that splattered to the floor. It echoed around us, tumbling down the stairs like one of the toy balls that Hazel held in her basket.
“Milo, must your imagery always be so vivid?” Hazel asked.
“I help explain things without fancy talk,” he grinned.
She giggled at that, taking the lead down the stairs. Her steps were lighter now. The prospect of helping people perking her back up after the last few hours.
“But that’s not proof,” I said. “Maybe if you provided proof the Barons would listen.”
“Doubtful,” Milo countered. “But you’re not entirely wrong. The proof we have is circumstantial. Spirit movement, lanterns going out, entire sections disappearing. It’s not proof.”
“Wait, did you say entire sections of the market disappeared?”
Hazel looked back over her shoulder. “In the outer lands. So of course, the Barons don’t count it. Anything not in the Night Market proper is not their jurisdiction, so they don’t take it into consideration.”
“That’s insane,” I lamented.
“We know,” Milo said.
As we descended further down the stairs, I watched as the flames guttered out into little bits of dripping wax, all of which seemed to glow. It was odd, not seeing the lantern light above. To look up and see only the underside of the spiral stairs. As the passage became narrower, and we all concentrated on keeping our balance along with the loads we now carried, I thought about what I had learned.
[[Was this really my place to get involved?]]
[[Suddenly, what we were doing felt so much bigger than me]]
[[I wondered how I fit into the picture as a whole]]Not for the first time today, I wondered if I should even be getting involved. Belladonna had offered very little room to refuse but even as I had been sitting there, I had been caught up in it. I wanted to help. But now, in the quiet calm of the stairwell, I didn’t know any longer if this was my place.
When this was done, would I be left standing as someone who helped this world, or would I be a forgotten relic that Milo and Hazel had once tried to help. My lost memories felt so insignificant compared to the harbinger that was the end of the market itself. Veils splitting, doors opening, people from worlds beyond running here for safety. It all made me feel small in a way. I didn’t know if I had the ability to help in the way they were looking for me to do. Or if I even could help with the patchwork mind that I had.
I looked at the back of Milo and Hazel’s heads, the glowing bits of wax reflecting light off the backs of them. I wanted my memories back. I wanted to get back home. But I also couldn’t imagine this world tearing in two and leaving these people before me to just fall into the abyss.
The stairs halted in front of a stone door. A small hand woven welcome mat lay just outside along with a drawstring that reached up into nothing. Hazel tugged at it twice and the heavy door flew open as if it were paper. She looked at me before entering, hoisting her haul a little higher on her curvy frame. “Okay, it’s not easy down here,” she said. “But just remember, they are kind people if you give them a chance.”
“$name will be fine, Hazel,” Milo assured. “They’re with us.”
“I know, I just don’t want ?them to think badly of these people. They've been through enough.”
“So has $name,” he reminded her gently.
Her eyes fell at that as she reminded herself of how she had even met me. I was a fallen piece in whatever lay beyond this door. This is where I should have gone if the guard had not gotten to me first.
Stepping through the door, the world opened into an old tunnel. I felt my breath stutter in my throat. What I had expected to see was something reminiscent of what was above. Market stalls, billowing fabric, and miles of strung lanterns. Instead, a flat expanse of dirt stretched before me. A few canvas tents and fires dotting the area. Then, behind that, a crumbling metropolis, sitting in a dark ruin.
The world around us was cavernous. Far bigger than what could be held given the descent we made beneath the streets. The ceiling was somewhere in the far off dark, allusive to the eye, but I was assuming still there. Buildings made of brick and concrete stretched up high, disappearing into the bleakness above, while shards of glass hung jagged in the place of windows, and only dim flickers dotting the night here and there.
“What is this place?” I asked, my voice coming out in a hushed breath.
The flat expanse of dirt dropped down on all sides of us, save the single door we had been through. As I dared to peer over the edge, I saw winding roads, thatched huts, and full fields that looked as if they had once grown crops under a sweltering sun. Large pillars dotted each turn of the streets, faces that were long forgotten carved into the stone as their hands reached outwards to clasp, forming a sort of line for the lanterns to be stretched across. The lanterns here were dim, however. Only a dark purple flame that barely held any light.
“The City of the Forgotten,” Hazel said next to me. “Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”
[[Do others know of this place?]]
[[How far does this go?]]
[[Spectacular did not cover the sheer magnitude of what I was seeing]]The Night Market was expansive. It was a sprawling land that unfolded into many more mysteries with each step I took. But it was dying. It was falling apart in ways that were beyond my comprehension and suddenly, what we were doing, what we were attempting to do, felt so much bigger than me.
When this was done, would I be left standing as someone who helped this world, or would I be a forgotten relic that Milo and Hazel had once tried to help. My lost memories felt so insignificant compared to the harbinger that was the end of the market itself. Veils splitting, doors opening, people from worlds beyond running here for safety. It all made me feel small in a way. But what was flowing out in a river before us was important and I wanted to be a part of it. If only to be on the right side of history. If only to say that I wasn’t going to let what happened to me, happen to anyone else.
I looked at the back of Milo and Hazel’s heads, the glowing bits of wax reflecting light off the backs of them. I wanted my memories back. I wanted to get back home. But I also couldn’t imagine this world tearing in two and leaving these people before me to just fall into the abyss.
The stairs halted in front of a stone door. A small hand woven welcome mat lay just outside along with a drawstring that reached up into nothing. Hazel tugged at it twice and the heavy door flew open as if it were paper. She looked at me before entering, hoisting her haul a little higher on her curvy frame. “Okay, it’s not easy down here,” she said. “But just remember, they are kind people if you give them a chance.”
“$name will be fine, Hazel,” Milo assured.
“I know, I just don’t want ?them to think badly of these people. They've been through enough.”
“So has $name,” he reminded her gently.
Her eyes fell at that as she reminded herself of how she had even met me. I was a fallen piece in whatever lay beyond this door. This is where I should have gone if the guard had not gotten to me first.
Stepping through the door, the world opened into an old tunnel. I felt my breath stutter in my throat. What I had expected to see was something reminiscent of what was above. Market stalls, billowing fabric, and miles of strung lanterns. Instead, a flat expanse of dirt stretched before me. A few canvas tents and fires dotting the area. Then, behind that, a crumbling metropolis, sitting in a dark ruin.
The world around us was cavernous. Far bigger than what could be held given the descent we made beneath the streets. The ceiling was somewhere in the far off dark, allusive to the eye, but I was assuming still there. Buildings made of brick and concrete stretched up high, disappearing into the bleakness above, while shards of glass hung jagged in the place of windows, and only dim flickers dotting the night here and there.
“What is this place?” I asked, my voice coming out in a hushed breath.
The flat expanse of dirt dropped down on all sides of us, save the single door we had been through. As I dared to peer over the edge, I saw winding roads, thatched huts, and full fields that looked as if they had once grown crops under a sweltering sun. Large pillars dotted each turn of the streets, faces that were long forgotten carved into the stone as their hands reached outwards to clasp, forming a sort of line for the lanterns to be stretched across. The lanterns here were dim, however. Only a dark purple flame that barely held any light.
“The City of the Forgotten,” Hazel said next to me. “Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”
[[Do others know of this place?]]
[[How far does this go?]]
[[Spectacular did not cover the sheer magnitude of what I was seeing]]I wondered how I fit into this. When this was done, would I be left standing as someone who helped this world, or would I be a forgotten relic that Milo and Hazel had once tried to help. My lost memories felt so insignificant compared to the harbinger that was the end of the market itself. Veils splitting, doors opening, people from worlds beyond running here for safety. It all made me feel small in a way. Was I just a cog in the ever shifting puzzle that these people around me had been playing at for years? Or was I something more? Milo and Hazel were in no hurry to rid themselves of my presence, but I didn’t know why they were putting the effort into me. Not with everything else that was going on. That had gone on.
I looked at the back of Milo and Hazel’s heads, the glowing bits of wax reflecting light off the backs of them. I wanted my memories back. I wanted to get back home. But I also couldn’t imagine this world tearing in two and leaving these people before me to just fall into the abyss.
The stairs halted in front of a stone door. A small hand woven welcome mat lay just outside along with a drawstring that reached up into nothing. Hazel tugged at it twice and the heavy door flew open as if it were paper. She looked at me before entering, hoisting her haul a little higher on her curvy frame. “Okay, it’s not easy down here,” she said. “But just remember, they are kind people if you give them a chance.”
“$name will be fine, Hazel,” Milo assured. “What could go wrong with us by ?their side?"
“I know, I just don’t want ?them to think badly of these people. They've been through enough.”
“So has $name,” he reminded her gently.
Her eyes fell at that as she reminded herself of how she had even met me. I was a fallen piece in whatever lay beyond this door. This is where I should have gone if the guard had not gotten to me first.
Stepping through the door, the world opened into an old tunnel. I felt my breath stutter in my throat. What I had expected to see was something reminiscent of what was above. Market stalls, billowing fabric, and miles of strung lanterns. Instead, a flat expanse of dirt stretched before me. A few canvas tents and fires dotting the area. Then, behind that, a crumbling metropolis, sitting in a dark ruin.
The world around us was cavernous. Far bigger than what could be held given the descent we made beneath the streets. The ceiling was somewhere in the far off dark, allusive to the eye, but I was assuming still there. Buildings made of brick and concrete stretched up high, disappearing into the bleakness above, while shards of glass hung jagged in the place of windows, and only dim flickers dotting the night here and there.
“What is this place?” I asked, my voice coming out in a hushed breath.
The flat expanse of dirt dropped down on all sides of us, save the single door we had been through. As I dared to peer over the edge, I saw winding roads, thatched huts, and full fields that looked as if they had once grown crops under a sweltering sun. Large pillars dotted each turn of the streets, faces that were long forgotten carved into the stone as their hands reached outwards to clasp, forming a sort of line for the lanterns to be stretched across. The lanterns here were dim, however. Only a dark purple flame that barely held any light.
“The City of the Forgotten,” Hazel said next to me. “Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”
[[Do others know of this place?]]
[[How far does this go?]]
[[Spectacular did not cover the sheer magnitude of what I was seeing]]I had no idea how this place was beneath the market or why very few were living under it. Spectacular didn’t even begin to describe the wonder I felt as I continued to look outwards.
“We put the refugees down here,” Hazel explained. “Away from the hustle of the regular market. We found, over time, that it was easier for them to acclimate that way. When they are ready, we take them up top, secure them papers, get them a job. They can begin their life then. Though some choose to stay down here. They find homes nearby, or they wander into the dark, hoping to find something new.”
“Who all knows of this place?” I asked, my eyes straining to see just how far the abandoned roads reached.
“Not a lot,” Milo was saying, hoisting his pack. “None of these people have papers. Gabriel knows we have people somewhere but not where. That way he can turn a blind eye to it all.”
We began walking towards a small tent. The flaps were pulled back and open towards the city beyond. The canvas an olive green, thick and well woven to keep out the elements. Inside, I could see a few blankets, but mostly, children huddled against adults for warmth, the only belongings they had being whatever they had managed to take with them upon leaving their world.
The fire before the tent blazed hot and bright, chasing away the dark and dwarfing the purple light of the lanterns above. It cast the darkness into a soft glow, making the world look like it was eternally frozen in the midst of a sunrise. One woman sat before the flame, separate from the rest of the refugees. The flames danced in her gemstone eyes.
“Hello,” Hazel said, her smile warm. She ducked down but did not dare to get closer. “Do you remember me?”
Three long braids hung down the woman's back and a tattoo dotted across the right side of her face. She observed Hazel with a blank stare before blinking at her, nodding her head in affirmation. She looked to be about Hazel’s age, but the wisdom behind her eyes gave me the distinct impression that she was far older than her appearance gave.
“We brought you some items,” Hazel was saying. “Food. Some toys for the children. It can get cold here at night, and I’m not sure what kind of environment you are used to, so we have blankets as well.”
“Thank you,” the woman said. Her voice was grated and rough as her tongue formed around the words. “We are still adjusting.”
“Of course,” Hazel said with sympathy. “And it will take time.” Setting aside the items and motioning for Milo and I to do so as well, Hazel sat across from her. “Is it alright if we ask you a few questions?”
The woman looked hesitant, casting her gaze up towards Milo and I. There was uncertainty in the way she observed us. As if she were certain we were going to pounce at any moment. But, in the end, she nodded her consent.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH 3]]
I had no idea how this place was beneath the market or why very few were living under it. Spectacular didn’t even begin to describe the wonder I felt as I continued to look outwards.
“We put the refugees down here,” Hazel explained. “Away from the hustle of the regular market. We found, over time, that it was easier for them to acclimate that way. When they are ready, we take them up top, secure them papers, get them a job. They can begin their life then. Though some choose to stay down here. They find homes nearby, or they wander into the dark, hoping to find something new.”
“Is there more out there?” I stared out into the dark, trying to see just how far the abandoned roads ran. “How far does this go?”
“I like to think there is plenty more,” Hazel said. “Although, like the Night Market, I’m not sure anyone knows the answer to that. I like to think that well beyond these roads is another market. Where all the refugees that weren’t able to settle up top have come together.” There was a distant smile to her face. One that was hopeful. “Come on,” she said after a moment. “Let’s get these things passed out.”
We began walking towards a small tent. The flaps were pulled back and open towards the city beyond. The canvas an olive green, thick and well woven to keep out the elements. Inside, I could see a few blankets, but mostly, children huddled against adults for warmth, the only belongings they had being whatever they had managed to take with them upon leaving their world.
The fire before the tent blazed hot and bright, chasing away the dark and dwarfing the purple light of the lanterns above. It cast the darkness into a soft glow, making the world look like it was eternally frozen in the midst of a sunrise. One woman sat before the flame, separate from the rest of the refugees. The flames danced in her gemstone eyes.
“Hello,” Hazel said, her smile warm. She ducked down but did not dare to get closer. “Do you remember me?”
Three long braids hung down the woman's back and a tattoo dotted across the right side of her face. She observed Hazel with a blank stare before blinking at her, nodding her head in affirmation. She looked to be about Hazel’s age, but the wisdom behind her eyes gave me the distinct impression that she was far older than her appearance gave.
“We brought you some items,” Hazel was saying. “Food. Some toys for the children. It can get cold here at night, and I’m not sure what kind of environment you are used to, so we have blankets as well.”
“Thank you,” the woman said. Her voice was grated and rough as her tongue formed around the words. “We are still adjusting.”
“Of course,” Hazel said with sympathy. “And it will take time.” Setting aside the items and motioning for Milo and I to do so as well, Hazel sat across from her. “Is it alright if we ask you a few questions?”
The woman looked hesitant, casting her gaze up towards Milo and I. There was uncertainty in the way she observed us. As if she were certain we were going to pounce at any moment. But, in the end, she nodded her consent.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH 3]]
I had no idea how this place was beneath the market or why very few were living under it. Spectacular didn’t even begin to describe the wonder I felt as I continued to look outwards. The sheer magnitude of what I was seeing was nearly overwhelming. It looked as if an entire civilization had once been here. The buildings in the dark were different from anything I had ever seen, their crumbling faces standing as a testament to people who no longer were. Monuments loomed above as watchful spirits, bits of cloths and feather fluttering in a non-existent wind. There was faith down here. There had been people who had prayed. They had made their sacrifices to the gods they believed in and had pride for their city. Families were born and died within the walls that stretched out before me. Crops grew beneath an artificial sun. And the horizon during the sunrise was spectacular.
And now, they were all gone.
“Come on,” Hazel said after a minute, having let me take it all in. “Let’s go see how we can be of help.”
We began walking towards a small tent. The flaps were pulled back and open towards the city beyond. The canvas an olive green, thick and well woven to keep out the elements. Inside, I could see a few blankets, but mostly, children huddled against adults for warmth, the only belongings they had being whatever they had managed to take with them upon leaving their world.
The fire before the tent blazed hot and bright, chasing away the dark and dwarfing the purple light of the lanterns above. It cast the darkness into a soft glow, making the world look like it was eternally frozen in the midst of a sunrise. One woman sat before the flame, separate from the rest of the refugees. The flames danced in her gemstone eyes.
“Hello,” Hazel said, her smile warm. She ducked down but did not dare to get closer. “Do you remember me?”
Three long braids hung down the woman's back and a tattoo dotted across the right side of her face. She observed Hazel with a blank stare before blinking at her, nodding her head in affirmation. She looked to be about Hazel’s age, but the wisdom behind her eyes gave me the distinct impression that she was far older than her appearance gave.
“We brought you some items,” Hazel was saying. “Food. Some toys for the children. It can get cold here at night, and I’m not sure what kind of environment you are used to, so we have blankets as well.”
“Thank you,” the woman said. Her voice was grated and rough as her tongue formed around the words. “We are still adjusting.”
“Of course,” Hazel said with sympathy. “And it will take time.” Setting aside the items and motioning for Milo and I to do so as well, Hazel sat across from her. “Is it alright if we ask you a few questions?”
The woman looked hesitant, casting her gaze up towards Milo and I. There was uncertainty in the way she observed us. As if she were certain we were going to pounce at any moment. But, in the end, she nodded her consent.
[[Next|Chapter Four MH 3]]
I sat next to Hazel, Milo a little behind the both of us. I didn't know if it was to give a certain amount of comfortable space, or to be a shield to our open backs.
“Can you tell us about where you are from?” Hazel asked gently.
The eyes that looked back at us were eerie, reflecting everything they saw but giving no emotion of their own. “I do not know the words for it here.”
“It’s okay,” Milo assured. “Try. The Night Market can translate.”
She took a moment, gathering her words to her. “We come from the Obsidian Isles. Where gems birth us from their core and the rivers are made from our tears. We are the sorrow keepers of the world. The ones who sing the song of those departed and pass along their stories through the depths of our waters so that the other world might remember the forgotten legends of old. We are the story keepers. The muses. We…” she trailed off, her gemstone eyes glittering. “Or, we were.”
“What happened to your world?” I asked, my voice shaky. I had not planned to speak, but I found myself moved to do so.
“Darkness,” the woman said. “It fell from above and rose from below and swallowed up the land until there was nothing but shallow graves to walk in. We had to flee,” she said, almost as if she were trying to convince herself. “We have youths. Generations of storytellers yet to grow. We could not let them lie in the graves.”
“Of course you couldn’t.” I could tell Hazel wanted to reach out and take her hand but refrained, not quite sure how that would be received. “You did the right thing.”
Further into the tent, a small child turned in their sleep. Locks of coiled azure hair clung in sweaty chunks to their head. It struck me how close their nightmares were to their dreams now.
[[What do you mean by darkness falling from and above and rising from below?]]
[[Were there signs of your world ending?]]
[[How many were able to get out? Are more coming?]]I scooted closer but tried to keep myself small. Less imposing. “When you say that the darkness fell from above and rose from below, what do you mean? Was it physical darkness or something else?”
The woman opened her mouth to speak but let it fall again. It was clear she was trying to find the words to describe what she meant but they were skittering through her head in an array of images that she couldn’t quite connect.
“Physical,” she said. “But not. It hung heavy and crumbled buildings but rolled in like smoke.” She shook her head at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
I nodded at her, hoping that she understood that whatever she could give us was more than we already had. That we were grateful.
“How did you hear of the Night Market?” Milo asked.
The woman, shook her head again. “We didn’t. It appeared. As the darkness began falling further and further, we sat and held each other. The gate appeared. It was either we run through or we perished.”
“No one in your group has heard of the night Market then?” Milo asked. “No one has ever spoken of a world similar to this?”
She shook her head no again while Hazel reached back and placed a hand on Milo’s.
Leaning back on his haunches, Milo seemed perplexed by the situation. Hazel, meanwhile, was trying to smile at the woman encouragingly. “Is there anything else we can get you?” she asked. “Anything that you may need that is customary to your culture or perhaps your survival? We didn’t know what kind of food you ate, so we brought a bit of everything.”
The woman was looking overwhelmed at the sheer amount Hazel had brought, and I doubted that she knew what half of it was. Upon seeing this, Hazel nodded in understanding. “Just let us know if you think of anything,” she said. “There is a woman. You have probably met her. Krin. She can get messages to me.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
It was clear we couldn’t press her much further. That she needed time to adjust. To allow the market to settle into her bones. But still, something was nagging at the back of my mind. I couldn’t quite place it but I couldn’t leave her. Not yet.
Standing, I looked down at her from across the fire. “What is your name?” I asked softly.
“You would not understand.”
“I would like something to address you by,” I said. “You deserve the respect of a name or a title.”
She pondered this for a moment, taking in my words as if they sounded odd to her and yet filing them away for something. Finally, she turned her face towards me. It was a deep golden in the ruined light, her eyes reflecting back at me a thousand different worlds and lifetimes. “You may refer to me as Basalt.”
I ducked my head in reverence. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Basalt. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“And you?” she asked before I could leave. “What shall I refer to you as?”
[[Tell her your name]]
[[Tell her your name and why you are here]]
[[Tell her what you have named yourself since arriving]]I scooted closer but tried to keep myself small. Less imposing. “Were there signs?” I asked. “Were there ways to tell what was about to happen to your world?”
She shook her head, one dark braid falling over her shoulder while the other two traced the line of her spine. “Just the blotting out of the sun. No more heat. So much cold. The lights in the sky grew dimmer and dimmer until there was nothing more and the darkness consumed us all. We had no time,” she said, voice thick with grief. “Barely enough to even escape.”
I shivered at the thought. Of waking one morning and taking my children. Running in hopes of finding a last hope somewhere within a dying land.
“How did you hear of the Night Market?” Milo asked.
The woman, shook her head again. “We didn’t. It appeared. As the darkness began falling further and further, we sat and held each other. The gate appeared. It was either we run through or we perished.”
“No one in your group has heard of the night Market then?” Milo asked. “No one has ever spoken of a world similar to this?”
She shook her head no again while Hazel reached back and placed a hand on Milo’s.
Leaning back on his haunches, Milo seemed perplexed by the situation. Hazel, meanwhile, was trying to smile at the woman encouragingly. “Is there anything else we can get you?” she asked. “Anything that you may need that is customary to your culture or perhaps your survival? We didn’t know what kind of food you ate, so we brought a bit of everything.”
The woman was looking overwhelmed at the sheer amount Hazel had brought, and I doubted that she knew what half of it was. Upon seeing this, Hazel nodded in understanding. “Just let us know if you think of anything,” she said. “There is a woman. You have probably met her. Krin. She can get messages to me.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
It was clear we couldn’t press her much further. That she needed time to adjust. To allow the market to settle into her bones. But still, something was nagging at the back of my mind. I couldn’t quite place it but I couldn’t leave her. Not yet.
Standing, I looked down at her from across the fire. “What is your name?” I asked softly.
“You would not understand.”
“I would like something to address you by,” I said. “You deserve the respect of a name or a title.”
She pondered this for a moment, taking in my words as if they sounded odd to her and yet filing them away for something. Finally, she turned her face towards me. It was a deep golden in the ruined light, her eyes reflecting back at me a thousand different worlds and lifetimes. “You may refer to me as Basalt.”
I ducked my head in reverence. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Basalt. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“And you?” she asked before I could leave. “What shall I refer to you as?”
[[Tell her your name]]
[[Tell her your name and why you are here]]
[[Tell her what you have named yourself since arriving]]I scooted closer but tried to keep myself small. Less imposing. “How many of you were able to get out? Are more coming?” I looked behind her at the children. At the half a dozen adults that were scattered among them. I hoped more were coming. I desperately prayed to Gabriel’s Knowing that they were.
“I do not know,” the woman said, black tears streaking her cheeks. They fell in a metallic line down across her lips. “I do not know who all saw the gate. And if they did, if they would take it. There were many that did not run when the darkness came. They locked their doors and sang themselves to sleep.”
I turned away at that, feeling my own emotions cloud my thoughts. I could see Hazel barely keeping herself composed.
“How did you hear of the Night Market?” Milo asked.
The woman, shook her head again. “We didn’t. It appeared. As the darkness began falling further and further, we sat and held each other. The gate appeared. It was either we run through or we perished.”
“No one in your group has heard of the night Market then?” Milo asked. “No one has ever spoken of a world similar to this?”
She shook her head no again while Hazel reached back and placed a hand on Milo’s.
Leaning back on his haunches, Milo seemed perplexed by the situation. Hazel, meanwhile, was trying to smile at the woman encouragingly. “Is there anything else we can get you?” she asked. “Anything that you may need that is customary to your culture or perhaps your survival? We didn’t know what kind of food you ate, so we brought a bit of everything.”
The woman was looking overwhelmed at the sheer amount Hazel had brought, and I doubted that she knew what half of it was. Upon seeing this, Hazel nodded in understanding. “Just let us know if you think of anything,” she said. “There is a woman. You have probably met her. Krin. She can get messages to me.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
It was clear we couldn’t press her much further. That she needed time to adjust. To allow the market to settle into her bones. But still, something was nagging at the back of my mind. I couldn’t quite place it but I couldn’t leave her. Not yet.
Standing, I looked down at her from across the fire. “What is your name?” I asked softly.
“You would not understand.”
“I would like something to address you by,” I said. “You deserve the respect of a name or a title.”
She pondered this for a moment, taking in my words as if they sounded odd to her and yet filing them away for something. Finally, she turned her face towards me. It was a deep golden in the ruined light, her eyes reflecting back at me a thousand different worlds and lifetimes. “You may refer to me as Basalt.”
I ducked my head in reverence. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Basalt. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“And you?” she asked before I could leave. “What shall I refer to you as?”
[[Tell her your name]]
[[Tell her your name and why you are here]]
[[Tell her what you have named yourself since arriving]]“My name is $name.” Though suddenly, it didn’t feel right. It felt different across my tongue. As if it were beginning not to fit. I tried not to let my frown show.
“$name,” Basalt repeated. “Born through a tear and lost in memories that are not your own. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
I blinked at her. “What?” I felt frozen in place, my heart stopping at her words and my head spinning.
Milo placed his hand on my arm. “They’re story tellers, $name. Don’t read into that.”
I stepped out of his hold and looked at Basalt. “What do you mean when you say those words?”
“It is what your name means,” she said, blinking at me. Her onyx gaze unwavering. She sounded more sure of herself now than she had before.
“I… does it?”
“Where I come from yes. Though maybe I am not translating it right?”
Hazel looked between Basalt and I. “The Night Market is translating for you. If $name means that in your culture, then it means that in your culture.”
Basalt smiled, pleased that she was not completely in the wrong. “It is a pleasure to meet you, $name. May your path turn only as much as you need.”
Milo guided me away then, not letting me linger and stare at the woman in dumb shock.
“What did that mean?” I asked, turning to him in desperation. That was a lead, right? It had to be.
“It was your translation, darlin’. Nothing more.” Though there was a distant look in his eyes as he continued to guide me away from Basalt and the others.
“But we don’t know that for sure. We don’t…”
“$name,” he said gently. “They just lost everything. Give them a bit before you start peppering them with questions. If you want to come back down here in a week, I’ll bring you, and you can talk to her further, but we need to give them space right now.”
I wanted to protest. Basalt knew something. I could feel the truth of it ringing in my bones. But, Milo was right. They had lost everything. Their children slept fitfully behind them. The last thing they wanted to be doing was catering to my own desire to find my home.
“Sorry,” I said. “Sorry. You’re right.” I had gotten ahead of myself. Hearing what she said had rang through me in a way that made me feel more alert, more whole, than I had been the entire time in the market.
Running a hand across my face, I nodded again. The action steadying me.
[[Lean into a hug with Milo]]
[[Continue after Hazel and see what else needs to be done here]]“My name is $name.” Though suddenly, it didn’t feel right. It felt different across my tongue. As if it were beginning not to fit. I tried not to let my frown known. “I came here under peculiar circumstances. Maybe not the extent that you did. I don’t know. But I do understand what it feels like to be in a strange land,” I explained to her. “But, you are not alone.” I needed her to know that. I needed them all to know that. There was help in this world no matter how scary it got.
“$name,” Basalt repeated. “Born through a tear and lost in memories that are not your own. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
I blinked at her. “What?” I felt frozen in place, my heart stopping at her words and my head spinning.
Milo placed his hand on my arm. “They’re story tellers, $name. Don’t read into that.”
I stepped out of his hold and looked at Basalt. “What do you mean when you say those words?”
“It is what your name means,” she said, blinking at me. Her onyx gaze unwavering. She sounded more sure of herself now than she had before.
“I… does it?”
“Where I come from yes. Though maybe I am not translating it right?”
Hazel looked between Basalt and I. “The Night Market is translating for you. If $name means that in your culture, then it means that in your culture.”
Basalt smiled, pleased that she was not completely in the wrong. “It is a pleasure to meet you, $name. May your path turn only as much as you need.”
Milo guided me away then, not letting me linger and stare at the woman in dumb shock.
“What did that mean?” I asked, turning to him in desperation. That was a lead, right? It had to be.
“It was your translation, darlin’. Nothing more.” Though there was a distant look in his eyes as he continued to guide me away from Basalt and the others.
“But we don’t know that for sure. We don’t…”
“$name,” he said gently. “They just lost everything. Give them a bit before you start peppering them with questions. If you want to come back down here in a week, I’ll bring you, and you can talk to her further, but we need to give them space right now.”
I wanted to protest. Basalt knew something. I could feel the truth of it ringing in my bones. But, Milo was right. They had lost everything. Their children slept fitfully behind them. The last thing they wanted to be doing was catering to my own desire to find my home.
“Sorry,” I said. “Sorry. You’re right.” I had gotten ahead of myself. Hearing what she said had rang through me in a way that made me feel more alert, more whole, than I had been the entire time in the market.
Running a hand across my face, I nodded again. The action steadying me.
[[Lean into a hug with Milo]]
[[Continue after Hazel and see what else needs to be done here]]“My name is $name.” Though suddenly, it didn’t feel right. It felt different across my tongue. As if it were beginning not to fit. “I gave it to myself two weeks ago when I first arrived in the Night Market. I don’t know who I was before then.”
“You named yourself?” she repeated the words back to me slowly, making sure she understood them.
“Yes,” I said.
“$name,” Basalt repeated. “Born through a tear and lost in memories that are not your own. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
I blinked at her. “What?” I felt frozen in place, my heart stopping at her words and my head spinning.
Milo placed his hand on my arm. “They’re story tellers, $name. Don’t read into that.”
I stepped out of his hold and looked at Basalt. “What do you mean when you say those words?”
“It is what your name means,” she said, blinking at me. Her onyx gaze unwavering. She sounded more sure of herself now than she had before.
“I… does it?”
“Where I come from yes. Though maybe I am not translating it right?”
Hazel looked between Basalt and I. “The Night Market is translating for you. If $name means that in your culture, then it means that in your culture.”
Basalt smiled, pleased that she was not completely in the wrong. “It is a pleasure to meet you, $name. May your path turn only as much as you need.”
Milo guided me away then, not letting me linger and stare at the woman in dumb shock.
“What did that mean?” I asked, turning to him in desperation. That was a lead, right? It had to be.
“It was your translation, darlin’. Nothing more.” Though there was a distant look in his eyes as he continued to guide me away from Basalt and the others.
“But we don’t know that for sure. We don’t…”
“$name,” he said gently. “They just lost everything. Give them a bit before you start peppering them with questions. If you want to come back down here in a week, I’ll bring you, and you can talk to her further, but we need to give them space right now.”
I wanted to protest. Basalt knew something. I could feel the truth of it ringing in my bones. But, Milo was right. They had lost everything. Their children slept fitfully behind them. The last thing they wanted to be doing was catering to my own desire to find my home.
“Sorry,” I said. “Sorry. You’re right.” I had gotten ahead of myself. Hearing what she said had rang through me in a way that made me feel more alert, more whole, than I had been the entire time in the market.
Running a hand across my face, I nodded again. The action steadying me.
[[Lean into a hug with Milo]]
[[Continue after Hazel and see what else needs to be done here]]“C’mere,” he said. With one arm, he pulled me in, and I felt myself go weak in his arms. I buried my head against his shoulder, my fists curled in frustrated balls against his chest. “It’s a lot,” he told me.
“Yeah.” I felt him tighten his hold on me, piecing me back together when I hadn’t even known I had shattered apart.
I nearly asked him if this was ever something to get used to. All the pain. All the heartache that they constantly encountered. But in the end, I didn’t want to know.
“Are you okay?” It was Hazel. Her soft voice coming towards me in concern. I turned away from Milo and nodded at her, trying to convey to her through a weak smile that I was okay. Okay enough to continue at least.
“What next? Is there anyone else we can talk to?”
“I thought Krin might be a good source, actually,” Hazel was saying. “They’re another refugee from a while ago that never wanted to go back up to the surface. But maybe they could tell us about the gate too. See if it is a similar situation. I don’t know how it will help us but at least it is something we didn’t know before.”
“Lead the way,” Milo said. He was looking at me, trying to decide if I was truly fine. When I trailed after Hazel, he kept close. I could feel his eyes on my back.
Krin was a tall woman with wide set brown eyes and olive colored skin. She had a birthmark across her cheek in the shape of a starburst. The likes of which her white hair nearly hid as it was cut blunt against her face. Pointed ears peaked up through the tufts, pierced with lapis gems. She looked to be a hard woman. Muscular arms that were scarred in a crisscross pattern across her. But I could see the kindness in her. The people before her were hers to watch over, and she took that job seriously. There was no doubt in my mind that she kept them safe from whatever may have wanted to take advantage of them in the dim light of the lanterns.
“Well, hello Hazel,” she greeted. “Milo. Thought I saw you two lurking down here. Bring more stuffed animals?”
“You can never have too many stuffed animals,” Milo said.
“And whose this?” she tilted her chin towards me, her gaze going a tad bit cooler as she tried to decide if I was a danger or not.
“This is $name, Krin. They’re with us. $name is going to help us out for a while.”
A bit of the steel melted away in Krin’s posture. “If you work with Hazel you must not be all bad,” she said. “What can I do you lot for then?”
“We just spoke with Basalt,” Hazel said, keeping her voice low.
Krin winced in sympathy. “Sad story that one.”
“Do you get many stories around here?” I asked. I didn’t know how long she had been here, but it did seem like she was the type of woman who gained the trust of even the most skittish of newcomers.
“Over time,” Krin said with a nod. “I listen to them all eventually. Try to get them to open up. Helps with the healing process.”
“Basalt told us that the gate to the Night Market appeared as their world was dying in front of them,” Hazel explained. “That they hadn’t even heard of the Night Market before. Have you heard of that happening with anyone else?”
“Plenty,” she said.
“How many is plenty?” Milo asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
“Nearly all. My own world was falling into a pit of fire. Volcanic ash cloggin’ the air like it was rain. I couldn’t see two feet in front of my face and then suddenly, I was here. A glowing gate behind me that showed the last of my world consumed in fire.” Krin shrugged. “Most of the ones that have come here all have similar stories. Never heard of the Market. Never been invited. Yet, a gate appears in those final moments and saves them all.”
[[Any idea why?]]
[[So the Night Market is saving people?]]
[[Have any of them heard of the Gatekeeper?]]With a deep breath I looked outwards, trying to find Hazel. Milo pointed her out, walking with me to where she stood not too far away. She was talking to a few of the people wandering around down here, handing out packages of food and warm blankets.
“Looks like she’s heading towards Krin,” Milo was saying. When we caught up to her, she handed the now empty pack for Milo to carry and nodded towards the woman in question.
Krin was a tall woman with wide set brown eyes and olive colored skin. She had a birthmark across her cheek in the shape of a starburst. The likes of which her white hair nearly hid as it was cut blunt against her face. Pointed ears peaked up through the tufts, pierced with lapis gems. She looked to be a hard woman. Muscular arms that were scarred in a crisscross pattern across her. But I could see the kindness in her. The people before her were hers to watch over, and she took that job seriously. There was no doubt in my mind that she kept them safe from whatever may have wanted to take advantage of them in the dim light of the lanterns.
“Well, hello Hazel,” she greeted. “Milo. Thought I saw you two lurking down here. Bring more stuffed animals?”
“You can never have too many stuffed animals,” Milo said.
“And whose this?” she tilted her chin towards me, her gaze going a tad bit cooler as she tried to decide if I was a danger or not.
“This is $name, Krin. They’re with us. $name is going to help us out for a while.”
A bit of the steel melted away in Krin’s posture. “If you work with Hazel you must not be all bad,” she said. “What can I do you lot for then?”
“We just spoke with Basalt,” Hazel said, keeping her voice low.
Krin winced in sympathy. “Sad story that one.”
“Do you get many stories around here?” I asked. I didn’t know how long she had been here, but it did seem like she was the type of woman who gained the trust of even the most skittish of newcomers.
“Over time,” Krin said with a nod. “I listen to them all eventually. Try to get them to open up. Helps with the healing process.”
“Basalt told us that the gate to the Night Market appeared as their world was dying in front of them,” Hazel explained. “That they hadn’t even heard of the Night Market before. Have you heard of that happening with anyone else?”
“Plenty,” she said.
“How many is plenty?” Milo asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.
“Nearly all. My own world was falling into a pit of fire. Volcanic ash cloggin’ the air like it was rain. I couldn’t see two feet in front of my face and then suddenly, I was here. A glowing gate behind me that showed the last of my world consumed in fire.” Krin shrugged. “Most of the ones that have come here all have similar stories. Never heard of the Market. Never been invited. Yet, a gate appears in those final moments and saves them all.”
[[Any idea why?]]
[[So the Night Market is saving people?]]
[[Have any of them heard of the Gatekeeper?]]For a world that prided itself on secrecy, it seemed odd that the gates were opening so frequently to worlds that were dying. “Any idea why this is happening?” I asked Krin. Maybe she had heard something.
But when she shook her head, I knew it was just another one of those things belonging to the mysteries of the Night Market. Another thing to be solved. Another moment that we could only hope to understand.
“Best I can figure,” Krin said, “is that we really shouldn’t question it too much. Because of those gates, people are living another day. Their children are growing up. I’m not really one that’s going to look to hard and the reason because I don’t want anyone to really go and solve it.”
“Krin?” a man called from the level below, gaining her attention. She peeked down over the side and held a hand up at him before turning to us.
“Is there anything else you three need? Blu over there looks like he’s got a load up from the fields below. Think we were able to grow some corn.”
Milo’s nose wrinkled at that. “Stupid corn.”
We bid Krin goodbye and stood, outsiders in this tiny little village made of canvas tents and forgotten memories.
“I’m gonna take a minute before we head back up,” Milo said, settling down the now empty packs he had been toting.
“Take your time,” Hazel told him. “I think I would like to check a few things around here.”
[[Go with Hazel]]
[[Go with Milo|Chapter Four Milo]]For a world that prided itself on secrecy, it seemed odd that the gates were opening so frequently to worlds that were dying. But I couldn’t help but wonder if the market itself was acting. Maybe the Gatekeeper wasn’t needed at all.
“The Night Market is saving people,” I said. Opening doors to those in the most desperate of times and welcoming them into a home at the expense of themselves. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel sad in a way.
“Whatever it’s doing,” Krin said, “I hope it doesn’t stop. Lot of kids were able to grow up because of those gates. I don’t want that to end.”
“Krin?” a man called from the level below, gaining her attention. She peeked down over the side and held a hand up at him before turning to us.
“Is there anything else you three need? Blu over there looks like he’s got a load up from the fields below. Think we were able to grow some corn.”
Milo’s nose wrinkled at that. “Stupid corn.”
We bid Krin goodbye and stood, outsiders in this tiny little village made of canvas tents and forgotten memories.
“I’m gonna take a minute before we head back up,” Milo said, settling down the now empty packs he had been toting.
“Take your time,” Hazel told him. “I think I would like to check a few things around here.”
[[Go with Hazel]]
[[Go with Milo|Chapter Four Milo]]“Have any of them heard of the Gatekeeper?” I asked. It was a long shot, I knew. But maybe they had seen someone or heard something while passing through. Krin shook her head though. I couldn’t even bring myself to feel disappointed. The Gatekeeper was starting to feel like an unattainable mystery with each passing day.
“Krin?” a man called from the level below, gaining her attention. She peeked down over the side and held a hand up at him before turning to us.
“Is there anything else you three need? Blu over there looks like he’s got a load up from the fields below. Think we were able to grow some corn.”
Milo’s nose wrinkled at that. “Stupid corn.”
We bid Krin goodbye and stood, outsiders in this tiny little village made of canvas tents and forgotten memories.
“I’m gonna take a minute before we head back up,” Milo said, settling down the now empty packs he had been toting.
“Take your time,” Hazel told him. “I think I would like to check a few things around here.”
[[Go with Hazel]]
[[Go with Milo|Chapter Four Milo]]“Could I come with you?” I asked Hazel. In this strange world we were traversing, I wanted to be by her side. Hazel was comfort and she was a soft bought of safety. Just being close to her calmed me.
“Of course,” she answered with clear excitement. We watched Milo walk off to go sit at the edge of the cliffside, looking out over the city. Hazel stared at him for a long moment, a look of helplessness on her face. When she turned, she nodded at me to follow.
“What did you want to check on?” I asked her.
“Nothing. I just wanted to give him a minute.” We ducked around a corner, coming to a small patch of green and blue pumpkins. They were dotted through with purple mushrooms and above them, baby cerulean wisps flitted about.
“I planted these,” she said, kneeling down among them. Holding out her hand, one of the wisps came over to her, landing in her palm. She stroked one finger across its back, watching as it shook in laughter. “The pumpkins,” she clarified. “Not the wisps. Some of the refugees have added to it over the years. It’s a little community garden of sorts.”
Coming to her side, I knelt next to her. I felt weary. It had been a long day and every second of it was now weighing on my shoulders. I was looking forward to going back to the apothecary. Sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. Falling asleep in a soft bed.
“I’m surprised really that you don’t have one of these yourself.” After meeting her, I could absolutely see Hazel working the land. Growing more than just her herbs. Maybe keeping a few animals out back.
“I would love to,” she said with a sigh. “I just haven’t found the time. And, I don’t know. Giving up my mother's shop feels wrong somehow. Like I’m dishonoring her.”
“Dishonoring her?”
“It’s silly, I know. And don’t get me wrong. I love my shop. I love my customers. But sometimes, I wonder if I could be doing something more. I’ve never really tried, you know.”
I didn’t. My memories were gone. I had no idea what it was like to dream of a different life.
“Do you want to try?” I asked.
She laughed a little. “Oh, I think I would be too scared to do something like that.” Her eyes flicked downwards, fingers tracing lines in the dirt. “Do you get scared, $name? When it's dark and you feel lost, do you get scared?”
[[Constantly]]
[[Fear is for the weak]]
[[I try to think of good thoughts]]
“Do you want some company?” I asked Milo.
He looked at me, a little surprised, but nodded all the same. “Yeah, that’d be great.”
Hazel gave us a small wave as we walked off together, stopping near the edge of the cliffside. Milo promptly sat down, patting the ground next to him. I slid down carefully, pressing my hip to his, our legs dangling over the edge as we looked out over the city.
“It’s beautiful, yeah?” The horizon was smudged a deep purple, the light from the fires across the dark tinging the edge of it a burnt orange. It looked like a sunrise. The first one I could ever remember seeing. I felt my breath catch in my throat. “They say,” he said, leaning into me, “this was the old Night Market. That we all lived down here once and then something happened, and we fled to the top.”
“To the top where there is no sun,” I commented.
“You remember the sun?” he asked curiously. I shook my head. “I do.”
[[Do you remember where you are from?]]
[[What if we are still underground?]]
[[What do you think would happen if the sun just appeared one day?]]
As the wisps flitted above us, circling like starlight, I looked at her. “You’re welcome,” I said. Though, there was really no reason for her to thank me. With Hazel, the decision to do the right thing was remarkably easy I was finding. She made me want to be a better person. A better friend.
“I would like to keep helping you,” I told her.
“Really?” she grinned at me. “I would appreciate that. Sometimes I think I put too much on Milo,” she laughed.
“Then, let me help with that. I want to do this, Hazel. I want to help these people. Help the market. I–” I didn’t really know how to describe it. I just wanted to be able to make this place better. To take what I had been given in this world and not sit in the sorrow that was threatening to overwhelm me. “I want to make a difference.” I told her. “I need to believe that I came to the Night Market for a reason.”
I stared at the glowing pumpkins, watching as they pulsed with light. Next to me, I could hear Hazel shuffling around. When she held a trowel under my nose, I stared at her confused.
“Then let’s make sure you make a difference,” she said. “I need to weed this patch and I could really use the help. Think you could lend me a hand?”
Taking the trowel, I nodded at her. “Yeah. I think for you, Hazel, I could lend a hand.”
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]As the wisps flitted above us, circling like starlight, I looked at her. “You’re welcome,” I said. Though, there was really no reason for her to thank me. With Hazel, the decision to do the right thing was remarkably easy I was finding. She made me want to be a better person. A better friend.
“Hazel, no matter what happens, I need you to know that I will always help you. You don’t even have to ask.”
“Really?” she grinned at me. “I would appreciate that. Sometimes I think I put too much on Milo,” she laughed.
“Then, give him a break. I want to do this, Hazel. I want to help these people. Help the market. I–” I didn’t really know how to describe it. I just wanted to be able to make this place better. To take what I had been given in this world and not sit in the sorrow that was threatening to overwhelm me. “I want to make a difference.” I told her. “I need to believe that I came to the Night Market for a reason.”
I stared at the glowing pumpkins, watching as they pulsed with light. Next to me, I could hear Hazel shuffling around. When she held a trowel under my nose, I stared at her confused.
“Then let’s make sure you make a difference,” she said. “I need to weed this patch and I could really use the help. Think you could lend me a hand?”
Taking the trowel, I grinned at her. “Thought I told you not to even ask.”
She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m the most polite witch you’re ever going to know.”
I laughed at her, feeling the expression of joy rumble through me. Together, her and I knelt in the pumpkin patch and dug in the dirt. Above of, the wisps hovered, making sure we had light to work by.
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]As the wisps flitted above us, circling like starlight, I looked at her. “You’re special too,” I told her softly. I had known this woman for so little time, but I couldn’t turn away. She was captivating. She was everything that the world needed and each time I looked at her, I wanted to be a better person. To be more.
Lifting her gaze to me, she looked at me through the thick of her lashes. “Thank you,” she said. I could see the blush on her cheeks but I could also see the hope in her eyes.
Leaning forward, I pressed my lips softly to hers. She met me with a soft sight, her eyes fluttering closed as she reached out and took my hand. I felt my heart skip. The kiss so soft. So pure. It was everything she was and everything I hoped to prove to her that I could be.
Pulling away, I rested my forehead against hers, looking at her hands curled together in the soft soil.
“I want to help these people. Help the market. I–” I didn’t really know how to describe it. I just wanted to be able to make this place better. To take what I had been given in this world and not sit in the sorrow that was threatening to overwhelm me. “I want to make a difference.” I told her. “I need to believe that I came to the Night Market for a reason.”
“Could I be part of that reason?” she whispered.
Swallowing thickly, I nodded. “You can be every part if you want.”
She said nothing at that. Only leaned forward and kissed me once more. Together, we knelt in the dirt, the plants around us growing with a whisper against our feet. Nothing else mattered. And despite the day, I couldn’t help but feel my heart soar.
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]
<<set $hazelro to "true">>
<<set $relationship to "true">>I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He had been sad today. It was something I had felt since the gate had opened. A kind of burden that had settled across his features. I was finding that I missed the boyish grin. The jokes. Today, they had been strangely absent, to toll from the last few hours effecting him more than he was admitting.
“You can talk to me, you know,” I told him softly. I didn’t know if it would mean a damn thing to him. If I was even the person who he wanted to confide in.
Picking up a rock, he threw it into the dark. It bounced on the road below and then tipped over the edge down into the nothingness.
“Oh, darlin’,” he drawled. “If I start talking, I’ll never stop.”
“Maybe you need that,” I suggested.
He shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Pulling his cigarette out from behind his ear, he tucked it beneath his lips, leaning back on his haunches. He was looked out at the horizon, at the smudges of purple and orange. “Have I ever told you about the gnomes that live down here.”
I startled a bit at the change of subject. “The gnomes?”
“Oh yes. They make cookies.”
I snorted in laughter. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, “So you don’t want to hear about the gnomes?”
My laughter bubbled throughout my chest. It felt good after the day we had had. Something to cling to, even in the dark. So, I sat. I leaned over a cliff's edge with Milo that night and I listened to him spin a tale about some gnomes. While I knew he was using it as a distraction from whatever was swirling in his head, I allowed it to happen. Because for a moment, just one moment, Milo was laughing too.
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He had been sad today. It was something I had felt since the gate had opened. A kind of burden that had settled across his features. I was finding that I missed the boyish grin. The jokes. Today, they had been strangely absent, to toll from the last few hours effecting him more than he was admitting.
“Speaking as someone who was forced to start their life anew, I don’t know if I would recommend it.”
“Oof,” he hissed. “That one hurts.” Picking up a rock, he threw it into the dark. It bounced on the road below and then tipped over the edge down into the nothingness.
“I’m just saying,” I told him with a little shrug. “Don’t get lost in that kind of fantasy. It’s not as great as it seems.”
Pulling his cigarette out from behind his ear, he tucked it beneath his lips, leaning back on his haunches. He was looked out at the horizon, at the smudges of purple and orange. “Have I ever told you about the gnomes that live down here.”
I startled a bit at the change of subject. “The gnomes?”
“Oh yes. They make cookies.”
I snorted in laughter. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, “So you don’t want to hear about the gnomes?”
My laughter bubbled throughout my chest. It felt good after the day we had had. Something to cling to, even in the dark. So, I sat. I leaned over a cliff's edge with Milo that night and I listened to him spin a tale about some gnomes. While I knew he was using it as a distraction from whatever was swirling in his head, I allowed it to happen. Because for a moment, just one moment, Milo was laughing too.
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He had been sad today. It was something I had felt since the gate had opened. A kind of burden that had settled across his features. I was finding that I missed the boyish grin. The jokes. Today, they had been strangely absent, the toll from the last few hours effecting him more than he was admitting.
“Is there another way to start over that doesn’t require you to run off into a dark abandoned city?” I asked him. My heart was thudding in my chest. Despite what I had been through with this man, the quiet moments we had shared, I still felt nervous.
“Why?” he grinned at me. “Would you miss me?”
“Yes.”
It was a whispered confession between us that only the ruins could hear. I stared at him though, my $eyecolor eyes wide and my fingers curling tightly against the cliff's edge. I would miss him. After two weeks, I couldn’t imagine my life without this man. I didn’t want to. I wanted to dance in the rain with him some more. I wanted to steal quiet moments with him, giggling like teenagers in the dark corners. I wanted to go on adventures and get up to mischief with him. I wanted it all.
“Kiss me,” he said.
I startled. “What?”
“I won’t believe you unless you kiss me,” he teased.
Leaning forward, I took a deep breath, ready to press my lips to his. He beat me to it though, wrapping his hands around my waist so I wouldn’t fall, and pressing his lips to mine. I could feel the way his heart thudded in his chest and how his lips parted against mine. I could feel the inhale of breath as I kissed him back and the way he held me. Our faces were lit by the false display of a setting sun and the starless night above, and for one moment, one solid moment, I felt my worries melt away. All there was, was Milo and the ruins of the city below. The memories of this forgotten world experiencing life anew once more.
<<if $workforgabriel == "false">>[[Chapter Four Interlude]] <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> [[Chapter Four Interlude|Chapter Four Interlude Gabe start]]<</if>>
or
[[Chapter Five]]
<<set $miloro to "true">>
<<set $relationship to "true">><img src="images/Ch 5.png"
height="300" width="900">
The days passed in one long stretch. Life had fallen into a routine that I hadn’t anticipated where I got up in the morning, helped Hazel with stoking the fire and feeding Mr. Billows. <<if $workforgabriel == "true">>I had gone back to the Warden’s office twice, sitting and filing papers, doing menial work. Each time, he had barely spoken to me. Head bent as he did his own paperwork, the two of us existing in silence.<<elseif $workforhazel == "true">>We took care of the morning orders together, existing in a calm that belied the world past the burnt out alley.<</if>> Each night, I fell into bed with an exhausted body and mind and each morning I woke, expecting something to rock the shape of the world that I was now creating for me. But life had spiraled into a soft complacency, at least for a short time. So when I came downstairs that morning to see Belladonna Malady sitting in the little nook to the right, I froze. She had a cup of tea in her hand, the floral cup delicately balanced between her long fingers.
“Good morning, dear heart.”
Hazel hovered nearby, looking relieved that I had come downstairs, not leaving her alone any longer with the high-powered vampire.
[[Hazel, I am so sorry I wasn’t up in time this morning]]
[[Belladonna, what are you doing here?]]
<<set $bookbaron to "true">>Bending down, I pet Mr. Billows, the cat weaving in between my legs. Glancing at Hazel, I smiled good morning to her, but focused my attention on the vampire. The woman’s presence within the shop was no small matter and it seemed like she had been a permanent fixture here as of late.
Belladonna was dressed to perfection once more. She wore a high necked black leather gown that dipped dangerously low in the back. Her topaz heels shone artfully as she crossed one leg over the other, sipping at the tea that Hazel had made her.
“Good morning,” I said, stopping just at the precipice of where the shop floor dipped down into what was becoming known as our meeting area.
“Afternoon, really. But who’s keeping track.” She smiled at me over the rim of her teacup. “Sit. We have things to discuss.”
[[Check on Hazel first]]
[[Sit down]]
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I made my way towards Hazel. Quickly, I snatched up the empty jars she had tossed to the side, gathering them so I could take them to the sink. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered to her. “I didn’t mean to oversleep.” <<if $workforhazel == "true">> I had several things that I needed to help her with this morning, knowing that we had gotten some orders in late last night. <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>While I worked for the Warden, I still liked to help Hazel around the shop in the morning.<</if>>
<<if $hazelro == "true">>She turned a warm smile towards me. “You needed it.” I came around the other side of the counter, arms full of supplies. Hazel looked at me, rocking back and forth on her feet. Coming to my side she helped me unload the jars one by one, along with various bits of cloth. Popping up on her tiptoes, she kissed my cheek before turning away. <<elseif $miloro == "true">>She turned a warm smile towards me, giggling at my disheveled appearance. “Believe me, I think we all needed some sleep." We had been up late the night before playing games with Milo.<</if>>
I came around to the other side of the counter, arms full of supplies. One by one I began setting them down to wash and dry for her. It looked like she was nearing the end of the morning orders so the least I could do was make sure we were prepared for the afternoon.
“Mr. Grotenick stopped by this morning,” she said, tying off her sachet. “He needs to double his order next week.”
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, nodding . “I’ll make a note of it.” <<if $hazelro == "true">>The image of her kneeling in the pumpkin patch, the bioluminescent mushrooms sprouting around us as the willow wisps hovered above; it would forever be burned into my memory.<</if>>
“However,” she said quickly, turning and looking at me. “You have the day off.”
“What? Why?”
Hazel’s eyes ticked over to where Belladonna sat, pointedly ignoring the interaction between us. “You need to go see the Baron of the Books today. Belladonna has been waiting here for a few hours now.” Stepping closer, Hazel bit her lip. “I tried to tell her you could come to her but she just smiled that smile of hers - you know the one - and she’s been sitting there ever since.”
Right. The Barons. Today, apparently was going to mark the day in which I started that journey, heading out to each of the upper echelon of the market, and asking them to give me a bit of their power. Taking a deep breath, I held it in my chest.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Hazel’s hand slipped in mine. <</if>>“Are you okay with this? You don’t have to do it.” She looked as if I said no, she would be willing to run out back and hide with me.
[[I’m okay.]]
[[It’s the right thing to do]]
[[I don’t feel like I have a choice]]
It was overwhelming. The very idea of what we had to do. Nine Baron’s in total, eight that I had to go see. Eight that I had to charm and make sure trusted me enough with something they fought within their inner circle about. I had no idea how I was going to do it. The margin of success was entirely too thin for any sort of hopeful thought. Yet, I still had to try.
“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “I’m not being forced to do this.” I mean, I was in a small way, but I still felt like it was perfectly okay to walk away.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Hazel tipped her head towards me. “You’re not going to do this alone,” she said. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
A small ball of warmth within me bloomed when I heard her say that. Hazel was one of those soft comforts. The person that immediately made me feel like the world wasn’t as fierce as I had experienced it. I couldn’t imagine doing this without her.
Squeezing her hand once more, I set the rest of the stuff aside. “Are you sure you don’t need me today?”
“I’m sure,” she said softly. <<elseif $miloro == "true">>”You’re not doing this alone,” she said firmly. “Each of us have your back on this. We will be with you every step of the way.”
I gave her a soft smile. It was a sentiment I wanted so desperately to cling to. I thought of Milo and the way his hand had gripped mine. Maybe that was the lifeline I needed to hold on to.
“Are you sure you don’t need me today?” I asked. My eyes ticked to the stack of orders. The unknowns of magic were far less scary than meeting the Barons today.
“I’m sure,” she assured. <<elseif $relationship == "false">>”You’re not doing this alone,” she said firmly. “Each of us have your back on this. We will be with you every step of the way.”
I gave her a soft smile. It was a sentiment I wanted so desperately to cling to. I was forming friendships within this wayward group that I knew I would have to lean heavily on in the upcoming days if this were to work.
“Are you sure you don’t need me today?” I asked. My eyes ticked to the stack of orders. The unknowns of magic were far less scary than meeting the Baron’s today.
“I’m sure,” she assured.<</if>>
With a deep breath, and one last look at her, I turned and headed towards the dip in the shop floor, where Belladonna patiently waited.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> “Well, you two are darling.”<</if>>
Belladonna was dressed to perfection once more. She wore a high necked black gown that dipped dangerously low in the back. Her topaz heels shone artfully as she crossed one leg over the other, sipping at the tea that Hazel had made her.
[[Good morning Belladonna]]
[[Sorry to keep you waiting]]
I wasn’t going to lie and say that this wasn’t overwhelming. Nine Barons in total, eight of whom I had to convince that I was the one to be trusted with their power and the name of the Gatekeeper. It felt like too much, at moments. Then again, there wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t believe this wasn’t the right thing to do.
“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “This is what I’m supposed to be doing.” Maybe I was even brought here for this purpose.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Hazel tipped her head towards me. “You’re not going to do this alone,” she said. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
A small ball of warmth within me bloomed when I heard her say that. Hazel was one of those soft comforts. The person that immediately made me feel like the world wasn’t as fierce as I had experienced it. I couldn’t imagine doing this without her.
Squeezing her hand once more, I set the rest of the stuff aside. “Are you sure you don’t need me today?”
“I’m sure,” she said softly. <<elseif $miloro == "true">>”You’re not doing this alone,” she said firmly. “Each of us have your back on this. We will be with you every step of the way.”
I gave her a soft smile. It was a sentiment I wanted so desperately to cling to. I thought of Milo and the way his hand had gripped mine. Maybe that was the lifeline I needed to hold on to.
“Are you sure you don’t need me today?” I asked. My eyes ticked to the stack of orders. The unknowns of magic were far less scary than meeting the Barons today.
“I’m sure,” she assured. <<elseif $relationship == "false">>”You’re not doing this alone,” she said firmly. “Each of us have your back on this. We will be with you every step of the way.”
I gave her a soft smile. It was a sentiment I wanted so desperately to cling to. I was forming friendships within this wayward group that I knew I would have to lean heavily on in the upcoming days if this were to work.
“Are you sure you don’t need me today?” I asked. My eyes ticked to the stack of orders. The unknowns of magic were far less scary than meeting the Baron’s today.
“I’m sure,” she assured.<</if>>
With a deep breath, and one last look at her, I turned and headed towards the dip in the shop floor, where Belladonna patiently waited.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> “Well, you two are darling.”<</if>>
Belladonna was dressed to perfection once more. She wore a high necked black gown that dipped dangerously low in the back. Her topaz heels shone artfully as she crossed one leg over the other, sipping at the tea that Hazel had made her.
[[Good morning Belladonna]]
[[Sorry to keep you waiting]]
That was the thing though. No one had asked if I wanted to do this. No one had asked me if I wanted to come to the Night Market. No one had bothered to ask me whether I was up for the task. They had all assumed.
“I don’t really have a choice though, do I?” I asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of my tone.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Hazel tipped her head towards me. “You’re not going to do this alone,” she said. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
A small ball of warmth within me bloomed when I heard her say that. Hazel was one of those soft comforts. The person that immediately made me feel like the world wasn’t as fierce as I had experienced it. I couldn’t imagine doing this without her.
Squeezing her hand once more, I set the rest of the stuff aside. “Are you sure you don’t need me today?”
“I’m sure,” she said softly. <<elseif $miloro == "true">>”You’re not doing this alone,” she said firmly. “Each of us have your back on this. We will be with you every step of the way.”
I gave her a soft smile. It was a sentiment I wanted so desperately to cling to. I thought of Milo and the way his hand had gripped mine. Maybe that was the lifeline I needed to hold on to.
“Are you sure you don’t need me today?” I asked. My eyes ticked to the stack of orders. The unknowns of magic were far less scary than meeting the Barons today.
“I’m sure,” she assured. <<elseif $relationship == "false">>”You’re not doing this alone,” she said firmly. “Each of us have your back on this. We will be with you every step of the way.”
I gave her a soft smile. It was a sentiment I wanted so desperately to cling to. I was forming friendships within this wayward group that I knew I would have to lean heavily on in the upcoming days if this were to work.
“Are you sure you don’t need me today?” I asked. My eyes ticked to the stack of orders. The unknowns of magic were far less scary than meeting the Baron’s today.
“I’m sure,” she assured.<</if>>
With a deep breath, and one last look at her, I turned and headed towards the dip in the shop floor, where Belladonna patiently waited.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> “Well, you two are darling.”<</if>>
Belladonna was dressed to perfection once more. She wore a high necked black gown that dipped dangerously low in the back. Her topaz heels shone artfully as she crossed one leg over the other, sipping at the tea that Hazel had made her.
[[Good morning Belladonna]]
[[Sorry to keep you waiting]]
There was a helpless look I know I tossed towards Hazel. I really should have been helping her. But, it was mid-afternoon and if Belladonna had information on the Barons, I probably needed to listen.
With a sigh, I lowered myself into the chair across from her but found myself saying nothing. There was a strange sense of anticipation that was ringing through the air, however. I had a feeling my life was about to get much more complicated.
The spread that was laid out before us was one befitting me and not the vampire. I didn’t know if Belladonna ate actual food or subsisted off of blood, but she seemed to drink tea and wine each time I saw her. Something the despite Hazel’s nerves, she made sure to provide for the woman.
“Are you someone who is testy in the morning, dear heart?” Belladonna asked, dropping a sugar cube into her cup.
[[I don’t like getting told what to do]]
[[No. Sorry. I just haven’t woken up yet]]
[[Yes. I need caffeine before I’m pleasant]]
Upon my arrival, Hazel made the excuse to begin bustling around the shop, getting her orders for the morning ready and busying herself to keep from sitting down next to the vampire.
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>“I have work to do,” I told her. “This is going to have to wait.”
With a raised brow, Belladonna set aside her teacup. “Then perhaps you should have woken up on time, if you were so concerned about Ms. Albright handling her shop.” I felt a pang of guilt and a small sense of ire at the statement. “Sit,” she said firmly. “I come with a discussion about the Barons. It is a little more important right now than what you can do with a broom.”<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> “I’m assuming you’re here for more than a social call. I just woke up, though. Can it wait?”
With a raised brow, Belladonna set aside her teacup. “Of course,” she said.”How about I fix you a nice snack plate. The state of the realm can wait. Do not even worry about it. Take your time.” I felt a pang of guilt and a small sense of ire at the statement. “Sit,” she said firmly. “I come with a discussion about the Barons.” <</if>>
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I walked over to Hazel, dipping my voice low. I knew that Belladonna could hear whatever I said but it seemed to put Hazel more at ease. “Do you want me to take the conversation somewhere else?” I asked.
“No,” she said, eyes flicking towards where the vampire sipped her tea. “It’s alright. I’m just happy you’re down here now.” There was relief in her eyes. I could already see the stress beginning to bleed from her shoulders.
Going to Belladonna, I sat down across from her.
“Are you someone who is testy in the morning, dear heart?” Belladonna asked, dropping a sugar cube into her cup.
[[I don’t like getting told what to do]]
[[No. Sorry. I just haven’t woken up yet]]
[[Yes. I need caffeine before I’m pleasant]]
There was something about it this morning. I didn’t know if it was due to what I had seen the night before or knowing that the world around me was at an imminent sense of demise. There was an anger that was within me now that I hadn’t quite felt before. As if it had been born late into the night while I was asleep.
“I don’t like being told what to do.” Something that I was almost positive I would have to come to terms with in the upcoming days.
Belladonna regarded me carefully, no doubt weighing what I had been through against my words. When her head tipped to the side, strands of red waves cascading down her front, I felt myself shift beneath the weight of her gaze.
“Good,” she said.
My eyes snapped up towards her and for a moment, I wondered if I had even heard her.
[[I preferred coffee]]
[[I preferred tea]]
[[I was growing to like kafe]]
I felt my head hang a little in shame. Whatever biting tone had overtaken me was already dissipating as Belladonna regarded me with her gold hued eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said with a small apologetic wave. “I haven't woken up yet.” My mornings had been quiet with Hazel. We eased into our day with relative silence. Seeing Belladonna this morning, a direct contrast to the soft surroundings, was jarring.
“No matter,” Belladonna said crisply. I had been getting good at reading tone and Belladonna did not seem impressed with the way I had conducted myself this morning. Whether it was because I was not ready for her when she arrived, despite not even knowing of her visit, or if it was just because she had to wait, I did not know.
Either that, or whatever she was about to tell me was far more important than she was letting on.
“Drink something,” she said. “I have a few topics to discuss about your upcoming meeting with the Baron. Would you like coffee? Some tea? Hazel made a lovely little pot of kafe as well.”
[[I preferred coffee]]
[[I preferred tea]]
[[I was growing to like kafe]]
Slumping in the chair, I ran a hand across my face. My skin still felt a little greasy from not washing it the night before. I was sure I looked a downright mess at this point.
“I’m not exactly pleasant before my caffeine,” I confessed. I was surprised it had taken this long for any of them to come across my attitude. Hazel was just so nice that I found myself working hard to push past it because I didn’t wish to upset her. Belladonna was easier to volley a few hits towards.
“No one is, dear,” she said. “But, you are in luck. While I have a few little things to discuss about your upcoming meeting with the Baron, there are plenty of options to drink away the morning irritants. Would you like coffee? Some tea? Hazel made a lovely little pot of kafe as well.”
[[I preferred coffee]]
[[I preferred tea]]
[[I was growing to like kafe]]
Reaching out, I took the carafe of coffee, pouring myself a sizeable mug of it. If I was to visit a Baron today, I was going to need my wits completely about me.
“I take it that you contacted the Baron of the Books?”
“I did,” Belladonna said, setting aside her cup and saucer. She dabbed at her lips, not a hint of her blood-red lipstick coming off on the cream-colored linen. “He has agreed to an audience with you, but I must stress a certain point before we begin visiting these individuals.”
I nodded. I had already figured as much. Honestly, I needed all the advice I could gather. The Barons were just as illusive to me as the Gatekeeper, and I was still unsure why everyone thought I would be a good choice for negotiating with them.
“Each Baron must be treated differently. Delicately,” Belladonna was saying. “They all portray a vast array of personalities that make up the political infrastructure of the Night Market. Whether you agree with their politics or not, one wrong move, and we could be denied access. And, dear heart, all it will take for this plan to fail, is one Baron to deny us.”
“I understand.” The weight of the situation was certainly not lost on me. Especially after the recent gate that had opened.
“Now, the Baron of the Books, I’d dare say is going to be the easiest. He is a practical sort, to the extent that he does not hold a lot of care for this world.”
I frowned. “Isn’t that a bad thing?”
“Perhaps. Though it will work in favor for us. He has no desire to have a mass amount of power in this district. I do not think his home is even here. I have suspected for a while he comes and goes and that he perhaps became a Baron on mistake.”
“How do you become a Baron on mistake?” You had to kill someone to become a Baron. There didn’t seem to be a lot of mistakes in that kind of situation. Though, the even keeled look Belladonna was giving me encouraged me not to venture too much further down that line of thought.
“Alright,” I started, “What do I need to know about this Baron to get on his good side?” I sipped at the warmth from my cup, feeling it travel down my chest and settle in my stomach. My stomach that was now growling and urging me to reach towards the food that was spread delightfully in front of me.
“His name is Noctine Sala. He is a private man. The district he runs has the most extensive archive of magical lore and history, along with world texts from lands that may not even exist anymore. He wields the power of information and has in his long life, amassed plenty of it. If there is a curiosity in the world that needs to be studied, you can almost guarantee he is the man that will be at the forefront of that line.”
“What’s to stop anyone from walking in there and taking all that knowledge? It sounds dangerous to possesses that much information.” I wasn’t fool enough to believe that what was contained inside that district wasn’t a weapon, but it seemed as if one man would not be able to hide each bit of knowledge the district itself contained.
“No one takes from him because no one can,” Belladonna stated. “His district is by invitation only and if you manage to find yourself slipping through an unforeseen crack, you will be lost in the stacks and consumed by the serpent that guards the domain.”
I froze. “You’re kidding.”
“Do not mistake his passivity of his role in the Night Market as weakness,” Belladonna said. “He is a man that is fierce. Often times cruel. He would sooner cut you down than suffer a slight against him. Tread lightly with his books. He cares for them deeply. Do not touch one without asking.”
[[How did you get an invitation to the district?]]
[[Does he know about what is happening in the market?]]
[[What makes you think he will help us?]]Reaching out, I sought out one of the tea pots. I knew Hazel enough to know that each one had some different sort of brew in it. Normally, I liked to experiment with what she had to offer but this morning, I just needed the caffeine. If I was to visit a Baron today, I was going to need my wits about me.
“I take it that you contacted the Baron of the Books?”
“I did,” Belladonna said, setting aside her cup and saucer. She dabbed at her lips, not a hint of her blood-red lipstick coming off on the cream-colored linen. “He has agreed to an audience with you, but I must stress a certain point before we begin visiting these individuals.”
I nodded. I had already figured as much. Honestly, I needed all the advice I could gather. The Barons were just as illusive to me as the Gatekeeper, and I was still unsure why everyone thought I would be a good choice for negotiating with them.
“Each Baron must be treated differently. Delicately,” Belladonna was saying. “They all portray a vast array of personalities that make up the political infrastructure of the Night Market. Whether you agree with their politics or not, one wrong move, and we could be denied access. And, dear heart, all it will take for this plan to fail, is one Baron to deny us.”
“I understand.” The weight of the situation was certainly not lost on me. Especially after the recent gate that had opened.
“Now, the Baron of the Books, I’d dare say is going to be the easiest. He is a practical sort, to the extent that he does not hold a lot of care for this world.”
I frowned. “Isn’t that a bad thing?”
“Perhaps. Though it will work in favor for us. He has no desire to have a mass amount of power in this district. I do not think his home is even here. I have suspected for a while he comes and goes and that he perhaps became a Baron on mistake.”
“How do you become a Baron on mistake?” You had to kill someone to become a Baron. There didn’t seem to be a lot of mistakes in that kind of situation. Though, the even keeled look Belladonna was giving me encouraged me not to venture too much further down that line of thought.
“Alright,” I started, “What do I need to know about this Baron to get on his good side?” I sipped at the warmth from my cup, feeling it travel down my chest and settle in my stomach. My stomach that was now growling and urging me to reach towards the food that was spread delightfully in front of me.
“His name is Noctine Sala. He is a private man. The district he runs has the most extensive archive of magical lore and history, along with world texts from lands that may not even exist anymore. He wields the power of information and has in his long life, amassed plenty of it. If there is a curiosity in the world that needs to be studied, you can almost guarantee he is the man that will be at the forefront of that line.”
“What’s to stop anyone from walking in there and taking all that knowledge? It sounds dangerous to possesses that much information.” I wasn’t fool enough to believe that what was contained inside that district wasn’t a weapon, but it seemed as if one man would not be able to hide each bit of knowledge the district itself contained.
“No one takes from him because no one can,” Belladonna stated. “His district is by invitation only and if you manage to find yourself slipping through an unforeseen crack, you will be lost in the stacks and consumed by the serpent that guards the domain.”
I froze. “You’re kidding.”
“Do not mistake his passivity of his role in the Night Market as weakness,” Belladonna said. “He is a man that is fierce. Often times cruel. He would sooner cut you down than suffer a slight against him. Tread lightly with his books. He cares for them deeply. Do not touch one without asking.”
[[How did you get an invitation to the district?]]
[[Does he know about what is happening in the market?]]
[[What makes you think he will help us?]]Reaching out, I took the large silver plated glass carafe, and began pouring myself some kafe. It was a taste that was acquired, it’s nutty flavor not one that I had been overly thrilled about upon first consumption. But it woke me up quick and stayed with me for hours. And if I was going to meet with a Baron today, I was going to need my wits about me.
“I take it that you contacted the Baron of the Books?”
“I did,” Belladonna said, setting aside her cup and saucer. She dabbed at her lips, not a hint of her blood-red lipstick coming off on the cream-colored linen. “He has agreed to an audience with you, but I must stress a certain point before we begin visiting these individuals.”
I nodded. I had already figured as much. Honestly, I needed all the advice I could gather. The Barons were just as illusive to me as the Gatekeeper, and I was still unsure why everyone thought I would be a good choice for negotiating with them.
“Each Baron must be treated differently. Delicately,” Belladonna was saying. “They all portray a vast array of personalities that make up the political infrastructure of the Night Market. Whether you agree with their politics or not, one wrong move, and we could be denied access. And, dear heart, all it will take for this plan to fail, is one Baron to deny us.”
“I understand.” The weight of the situation was certainly not lost on me. Especially after the recent gate that had opened.
“Now, the Baron of the Books, I’d dare say is going to be the easiest. He is a practical sort, to the extent that he does not hold a lot of care for this world.”
I frowned. “Isn’t that a bad thing?”
“Perhaps. Though it will work in favor for us. He has no desire to have a mass amount of power in this district. I do not think his home is even here. I have suspected for a while he comes and goes and that he perhaps became a Baron on mistake.”
“How do you become a Baron on mistake?” You had to kill someone to become a Baron. There didn’t seem to be a lot of mistakes in that kind of situation. Though, the even keeled look Belladonna was giving me encouraged me not to venture too much further down that line of thought.
“Alright,” I started, “What do I need to know about this Baron to get on his good side?” I sipped at the warmth from my cup, feeling it travel down my chest and settle in my stomach. My stomach that was now growling and urging me to reach towards the food that was spread delightfully in front of me.
“His name is Noctine Sala. He is a private man. The district he runs has the most extensive archive of magical lore and history, along with world texts from lands that may not even exist anymore. He wields the power of information and has in his long life, amassed plenty of it. If there is a curiosity in the world that needs to be studied, you can almost guarantee he is the man that will be at the forefront of that line.”
“What’s to stop anyone from walking in there and taking all that knowledge? It sounds dangerous to possesses that much information.” I wasn’t fool enough to believe that what was contained inside that district wasn’t a weapon, but it seemed as if one man would not be able to hide each bit of knowledge the district itself contained.
“No one takes from him because no one can,” Belladonna stated. “His district is by invitation only and if you manage to find yourself slipping through an unforeseen crack, you will be lost in the stacks and consumed by the serpent that guards the domain.”
I froze. “You’re kidding.”
“Do not mistake his passivity of his role in the Night Market as weakness,” Belladonna said. “He is a man that is fierce. Often times cruel. He would sooner cut you down than suffer a slight against him. Tread lightly with his books. He cares for them deeply. Do not touch one without asking.”
[[How did you get an invitation to the district?]]
[[Does he know about what is happening in the market?]]
[[What makes you think he will help us?]]
“Good morning,” I said, sitting down across from her. I reached out, grabbing my own teacup and fixing myself something for the morning. There was of course small pastries and bowls of fruit littering the table. Because Hazel would never let anyone leave her sanctum without eating. “I’m surprised to see you here,” I told her.
“Why is that?” she asked. “The fate of the Night Market depends on us, dear heart. It should be the first thing we think of in the morning and the last thing before we lay our heads down at night.”
It was not exactly what I had been doing but it was clear Belladonna did. Or wanted everyone else to.
“Not a morning person or just not a this morning person?”
[[I was not a morning person]]
[[Normally, I was a morning person]]Sitting down across from her, I brushed the sleep from my eyes. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I don’t know why I didn’t wake up.” Normally, the wisps hung bright outside my window, signalling that night was coming to an end. I must have rolled over this morning instead of listening to them.
“It is no worry, dear. I had very little else to do this morning other than sit here with dear Hazel, sipping her delicious tea.”
I couldn’t tell if she was being facetious or not, and it was honestly too close to my recent roll from bed for me to care enough to suss it out. Belladonna was looking at me, amused, however, with my muzzy expression.
“Not a morning person or just not a this morning person?”
[[I was not a morning person]]
[[Normally, I was a morning person]]“I really can’t say who I used to be, but I have a sinking suspicion that mornings and I did not get along,” I told her.
From behind the counter, I could hear Hazel snort in laughter. I should have known she was eavesdropping. She always had been a bit nervous around Belladonna. It was doubtful she would have let us out of her sight so quickly.
“I’ll be alright after a little bit of caffeine,” I told her. Probably would be able to retain more of what she was about to tell me if I had my morning buzz running through my system.
“You are in luck,” Belladonna was saying, sipping at her own tea. “I have a few topics of discussion for your upcoming meeting with the Baron, there are plenty of options to drink away the morning irritants. Would you like coffee? Some tea? Hazel made a lovely little pot of kafe as well.”
[[I preferred coffee]]
[[I preferred tea]]
[[I was growing to like kafe]]
I shook my head. Normally, I was bright-eyed come the morning. Most days were greeted with me up far before Hazel even, watching the girl rush downstairs while tying up her bushel of hair. She had been doing her job for so long that she was on autopilot until her second cup of kafe in the morning hours. Most mornings were spent in a comfortable silence as she woke. I, on the other hand, was alert and ready to start my day.
This morning I was feeling it, however. Perhaps the weight of what was coming finally sinking in.
“I’ll be fine in a minute,” I told her.
There wasn’t much to that she was going to disagree with. “Well then,” she said primly, sipping her own tea. “While I have a few little things to discuss about your upcoming meeting with the Baron, there are plenty of option to drink away the morning irritants. Would you like coffee? Some tea? Hazel made a lovely little pot of kafe as well.”
[[I preferred coffee]]
[[I preferred tea]]
[[I was growing to like kafe]]
“How did you get an invitation to the district?” I asked her. I simply wondered the lengths Belladonna would even go to. She was an obvious attraction to both men and women and I wondered how much of it she used to get her way.
“I asked.”
I stared at her. “You simply just asked?”
“People are unaware that many times, manipulation and blackmail serve a great purpose for unreasonable individuals. But other times, a simple quandary that is not mired in bullshit, is just as effective.”
I set aside my tea, thinking about what I was walking into. While Belladonna claimed he would be the easiest for us to communicate with, I feared for the uncertainty that surrounded it all. Finishing my breakfast, I nodded my head. Each Baron would hold a new challenge, I was sure. I supposed a Baron that loved books was not the worst man to deal with. Then again, someone that only guarded his domain with a serpent and an invitation spoke of paranoia. You didn’t get left alone by the rest of the market for having a good reputation.
“Alright, what time is the meeting?”
“Now.” Belladonna rose gracefully. “Hazel, darling, would you like me to send someone over to clean all this up?”
Hazel looked at Belladonna curiously, obviously having listened to the entire conversation. “Send someone over?”
“Yes. A dish person,” she said, waving at the few tea cups and empty plates. “Do you have a dish person of your own?”
I raised my hand. “That would be me most days.”
The look of horror that crossed Belladonna’s face was only momentary, but I caught it all the same. I would have laughed at the clear confusion and disgust she found hiding in my words, if I didn’t think she would leave me to find the Baron all on my own.
Looking back down at the small breakfast mess on the table, she blinked at it in thought. “I’ll be sending someone over.” With a flourish, Belladonna walked out of the room, the door opening and shutting behind her.
Walking over to where Hazel still stood by the counter, I shook my head. “What it must be like to be Belladonna Malady,” I said with a small laugh. “Maybe you could get whoever she sends over to sweep the shop too.”
Hazel looked around, as if the very idea of someone else working in her shop that wasn’t her or me, scared her. “No. No, I think I’ll be just fine. Vampires have always made me a bit nervous.” She ran her hand across her neck, thumbing at the juncture where shoulder and collarbone met. It was then that I noticed the scarf that was wrapped around her hand.
“What happened?”
Confusion colored her before she caught sight of her own hand and quickly tucked it away. “Oh, nothing,” she said. “I was clumsy this morning while chopping the firewood.” She was tugging at the loose ends of the scarf, looking down at the ground in embarrassment.
“Let me see,” I requested, holding out my own hand.
She shook her head. “It’s fine. Really. I put one of my salves on it. The only reason I even wrapped it is because I was working and didn’t want anything to get inside the wound before it closed.” She gave me a warm smile. “Thank you for your concern though.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching out, I took the hand anyway. “Of course I’m concerned. You should have woken me this morning.”
“You needed sleep,” she said, her fingers curling against mine. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.” I could see the worry ebbing into the soft corners of her eyes. “Please be careful.”
“I will,” I assured her.
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was simply making her impatience known.
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> I looked at her, not quite liking that I was leaving her with everything. Especially with her hand hurt.
“I wish you would have woken me this morning,” I told her. “I’m living her rent free. You are allowed to kick me out of bed.”
“You needed sleep,” she said firmly. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.”
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was making her impatience known.”
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand. <<elseif $relationship == "false">> I looked at her, not quite liking that I was leaving her with everything. Especially with her hand hurt.
“I wish you would have woken me this morning,” I told her. “I’m living her rent free. You are allowed to kick me out of bed.”
“You needed sleep,” she said firmly. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.”
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was making her impatience known.”
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand.<</if>>
“Good luck,” Hazel gave me an encouraging smile, but I could see the nerves playing out behind her eyes. I really hoped that it was just Hazel being Hazel and not because she knew I was walking to some unforeseen doom.
[[Next|Chapter Five 2]]
“Does he know about what is happening in the market?” I asked her. I wondered how many of the Barons were aware that their world was ripping. That if they did not take action, they would no longer have a populace to control.
“I have not asked him upfront but I do believe that individual’s such as him would have gifts to see the signs. Now it is simply a matter of whether helping save this realm aligns with the whims of his personal goals. We should hope he is simply not busy, for now. Perhaps that will work in our favor. Then again, if he wants us to leave him alone, giving us an ounce of his power may also be the way he aligns himself.”
I set aside my tea, thinking about what I was walking into. While Belladonna claimed he would be the easiest for us to communicate with, I feared for the uncertainty that surrounded it all. Finishing my breakfast, I nodded my head. Each Baron would hold a new challenge, I was sure. I supposed a Baron that loved books was not the worst man to deal with. Then again, someone that only guarded his domain with a serpent and an invitation spoke of paranoia. You didn’t get left alone by the rest of the market for having a good reputation.
“Alright, what time is the meeting?”
“Now.” Belladonna rose gracefully. “Hazel, darling, would you like me to send someone over to clean all this up?”
Hazel looked at Belladonna curiously, obviously having listened to the entire conversation. “Send someone over?”
“Yes. A dish person,” she said, waving at the few tea cups and empty plates. “Do you have a dish person of your own?”
I raised my hand. “That would be me most days.”
The look of horror that crossed Belladonna’s face was only momentary, but I caught it all the same. I would have laughed at the clear confusion and disgust she found hiding in my words, if I didn’t think she would leave me to find the Baron all on my own.
Looking back down at the small breakfast mess on the table, she blinked at it in thought. “I’ll be sending someone over.” With a flourish, Belladonna walked out of the room, the door opening and shutting behind her.
Walking over to where Hazel still stood by the counter, I shook my head. “What it must be like to be Belladonna Malady,” I said with a small laugh. “Maybe you could get whoever she sends over to sweep the shop too.”
Hazel looked around, as if the very idea of someone else working in her shop that wasn’t her or me, scared her. “No. No, I think I’ll be just fine. Vampires have always made me a bit nervous.” She ran her hand across her neck, thumbing at the juncture where shoulder and collarbone met. It was then that I noticed the scarf that was wrapped around her hand.
“What happened?”
Confusion colored her before she caught sight of her own hand and quickly tucked it away. “Oh, nothing,” she said. “I was clumsy this morning while chopping the firewood.” She was tugging at the loose ends of the scarf, looking down at the ground in embarrassment.
“Let me see,” I requested, holding out my own hand.
She shook her head. “It’s fine. Really. I put one of my salves on it. The only reason I even wrapped it is because I was working and didn’t want anything to get inside the wound before it closed.” She gave me a warm smile. “Thank you for your concern though.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching out, I took the hand anyway. “Of course I’m concerned. You should have woken me this morning.”
“You needed sleep,” she said, her fingers curling against mine. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.” I could see the worry ebbing into the soft corners of her eyes. “Please be careful.”
“I will,” I assured her.
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was simply making her impatience known.
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> I looked at her, not quite liking that I was leaving her with everything. Especially with her hand hurt.
“I wish you would have woken me this morning,” I told her. “I’m living her rent free. You are allowed to kick me out of bed.”
“You needed sleep,” she said firmly. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.”
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was making her impatience known.”
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand. <<elseif $relationship == "false">> I looked at her, not quite liking that I was leaving her with everything. Especially with her hand hurt.
“I wish you would have woken me this morning,” I told her. “I’m living her rent free. You are allowed to kick me out of bed.”
“You needed sleep,” she said firmly. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.”
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was making her impatience known.”
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand.<</if>>
“Good luck,” Hazel gave me an encouraging smile, but I could see the nerves playing out behind her eyes. I really hoped that it was just Hazel being Hazel and not because she knew I was walking to some unforeseen doom.
[[Next|Chapter Five 2]]
“If the Baron is as you say he is, what makes you think he will help us?” The ruthless image that Belladonna was creating was not the kind of man that was going to willingly hand over help.
“As I said, the care that he has for this market is very little. I am unsure even whey he stays. The state of this world means nothing to him.”
“That doesn’t sound like the kind of person who is going to help us.”
“It is exactly the kind of person who will help. He has no desire to keep a hold of power here and what he can give is microscopic given what he can do. Dear heart, this is the type of man who I am almost certain would hand over his Baronhood to the first person he passed on the street if it didn’t result in his immediate death.”
I set aside my tea, thinking about what I was walking into. While Belladonna claimed he would be the easiest for us to communicate with, I feared for the uncertainty that surrounded it all. Finishing my breakfast, I nodded my head. Each Baron would hold a new challenge, I was sure. I supposed a Baron that loved books was not the worst man to deal with. Then again, someone that only guarded his domain with a serpent and an invitation spoke of paranoia. You didn’t get left alone by the rest of the market for having a good reputation.
“Alright, what time is the meeting?”
“Now.” Belladonna rose gracefully. “Hazel, darling, would you like me to send someone over to clean all this up?”
Hazel looked at Belladonna curiously, obviously having listened to the entire conversation. “Send someone over?”
“Yes. A dish person,” she said, waving at the few tea cups and empty plates. “Do you have a dish person of your own?”
I raised my hand. “That would be me most days.”
The look of horror that crossed Belladonna’s face was only momentary, but I caught it all the same. I would have laughed at the clear confusion and disgust she found hiding in my words, if I didn’t think she would leave me to find the Baron all on my own.
Looking back down at the small breakfast mess on the table, she blinked at it in thought. “I’ll be sending someone over.” With a flourish, Belladonna walked out of the room, the door opening and shutting behind her.
Walking over to where Hazel still stood by the counter, I shook my head. “What it must be like to be Belladonna Malady,” I said with a small laugh. “Maybe you could get whoever she sends over to sweep the shop too.”
Hazel looked around, as if the very idea of someone else working in her shop that wasn’t her or me, scared her. “No. No, I think I’ll be just fine. Vampires have always made me a bit nervous.” She ran her hand across her neck, thumbing at the juncture where shoulder and collarbone met. It was then that I noticed the scarf that was wrapped around her hand.
“What happened?”
Confusion colored her before she caught sight of her own hand and quickly tucked it away. “Oh, nothing,” she said. “I was clumsy this morning while chopping the firewood.” She was tugging at the loose ends of the scarf, looking down at the ground in embarrassment.
“Let me see,” I requested, holding out my own hand.
She shook her head. “It’s fine. Really. I put one of my salves on it. The only reason I even wrapped it is because I was working and didn’t want anything to get inside the wound before it closed.” She gave me a warm smile. “Thank you for your concern though.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching out, I took the hand anyway. “Of course I’m concerned. You should have woken me this morning.”
“You needed sleep,” she said, her fingers curling against mine. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.” I could see the worry ebbing into the soft corners of her eyes. “Please be careful.”
“I will,” I assured her.
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was simply making her impatience known.
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> I looked at her, not quite liking that I was leaving her with everything. Especially with her hand hurt.
“I wish you would have woken me this morning,” I told her. “I’m living her rent free. You are allowed to kick me out of bed.”
“You needed sleep,” she said firmly. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.”
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was making her impatience known.”
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand. <<elseif $relationship == "false">> I looked at her, not quite liking that I was leaving her with everything. Especially with her hand hurt.
“I wish you would have woken me this morning,” I told her. “I’m living her rent free. You are allowed to kick me out of bed.”
“You needed sleep,” she said firmly. “Besides, I think you got the raw end of the deal this morning. Belladonna is a task master and Noctine Sala has a reputation of cutting the throats of any individual that even looks at him wrong.”
The door behind us opened, though no one was standing on the other side. Belladonna was making her impatience known.”
“I better go,” I laughed, dropping her hand.<</if>>
“Good luck,” Hazel gave me an encouraging smile, but I could see the nerves playing out behind her eyes. I really hoped that it was just Hazel being Hazel and not because she knew I was walking to some unforeseen doom.
[[Next|Chapter Five 2]]
Belladonna was not a woman who waited. She had walked halfway down the alley by the time I had reached her, bypassing the ghosts and concerned little with their presence. Not that they ever seemed to edge near Belladonna. They went nearly silent at her presence.
“How are you feeling, dear heart? A lot is about to descend upon your shoulders.”
My stride fell in place beside her and for once, I wasn’t looking into the old shops, wondering if anything was looking back at me. There was a calmness when Belladonna was around. I liked to think it was that her mere presence scared them all away.
“I’m trying not to think about it,” I told her honestly. I hadn’t even really been given the chance to yet. The events of yesterday were long and varied, and I marveled at just how much I was able to fit into such a short time. I wasn’t all together convinced that a few days hadn’t passed without my knowledge.
“That is not a healthy reaction,” she said in response to my apathy.
I turned, my brows rising.
She mimicked my gaze twofold.
[[I know]]
[[What good would thinking about it do?]]
“I know,” I said, dropping my gaze. I was fully aware that not thinking about what was to come was setting me up for a weakness. But what else was I supposed to do? Madness lay within the possibilities ahead and in the brief time I had been in the Night Market, nothing had come as expected. There was no way to predict what the upcoming months would bring. Or days even. I was merely a puppet along for the ride.
“I just don’t know what else I’m to do,” I told her as we continued to walk.
“It may be something you should meditate on. Ignoring the reality before you entirely means that you are not preparing yourself. The shock that will be bestowed upon you is not one that I wish upon anyone.”
“Given the shock I have already received, I don’t know if it will affect me like it would someone else.” What more could come after having been dropped into a world brand new and then dragged to a cell to await my fate.
“I simply am urging you to think, dear heart. Contemplate what is before you. Look at each angle even with the most paranoid eyes. Do not exist in complacency.”
[[I think that I can handle it]]
[[I have good people to help me]]
<<if $relationship == "false">>[[(flirt) I’ll be fine with someone like you by my side]]<</if>>“I guess I just don’t see the point in thinking about it,” I told her. “What is it going to do? I don’t know what’s to come.” There were a million possibilities that were stretched out before me. Each one created another set of rules and paths and thorough ways with their own abundance of problems. Thinking about any of it was enough to drive a person mad. If I was supposed to approach the upcoming days with a sort of calm clarity, if I was supposed to convince these Barons that I was the one to entrust with this power, madness was the furthest emotion I needed to hold dear.
“A good point,” Belladonna conceded, “but ignoring it entirely also means that you are not preparing yourself. The shock that will be bestowed upon you is not one that I wish upon anyone.”
“Given the shock I have already received, I don’t know if it will affect me like it would someone else.” What more could come after having been dropped into a world brand new and then dragged to a cell to await my fate.
“I simply am urging you to think, dear heart. Contemplate what is before you. Look at each angle even with the most paranoid eyes. Do not exist in complacency.”
[[I think that I can handle it]]
[[I have good people to help me]]
<<if $relationship == "false">>[[(flirt) I’ll be fine with someone like you by my side]]<</if>>
“I am pretty sure I can handle this.” Who was to say that talking wasn’t one of my strong suits. Maybe in a past life, this was what I did. Maybe I was the person that went around, wining and dining and cracking impossible deals. It didn’t sound like me one bit but if the persona helped me get through these meetings, who was I to turn away from a good strategy.
“Where is this certainty coming from exactly?”
I shrugged. “You all think I am up for the task,” I pointed out. “I have to believe that the four of you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”
She was silent for a long moment after that. So long that my heart began to stutter nervously.
“Who we surround ourselves with in our life is often times the very people that are going to help decide our fates,” she said slowly. “With the people you have gotten to know, do you trust the fate that is set out in front of you?”
[[Do you know something I don’t]]
[[Yes|Chapter Five 3]]
[[I don’t believe in fate]]
“I have good people around me,” I told her. “I think that will benefit me in the end.” Milo, Hazel, Gabriel and her. All of them seemed, for the most part be by my side. It didn’t ease the anxiety that I was sure was looming on the horizon, but I didn’t feel entirely alone either.
Despite my sentiment, however, Belladonna did not look convinced. Something about what I had said made her shoulders tighten just a fraction and her lips thin. I wondered if I was immune to the way she treated others. The Malady mask. Or, if she was trusting me enough to not hide herself a hundred percent of the time.
“Who we surround ourselves with in our life is often times the very people that are going to help decide our fates,” she said slowly. “With the people you have gotten to know, do you trust the fate that is set out in front of you?”
[[Do you know something I don’t]]
[[Yes|Chapter Five 3]]
[[I don’t believe in fate]]
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, watching the way she moved through the street with fluid grace. “I’ll be fine,” I told her. “With someone like you by my side, how could I not?”
I saw the corner of her mouth twitch at that. The painted red of her lips cracking into the barest of smiles. “Flattery is always appreciated, dear heart. But we have gone over this. You cannot afford me.” I laughed a little at that and wondered what she would do if I did show up one day, a bag of coin in my hand. “Now truly,” she continued, unaware of my thoughts. “I am tinged with the smallest bit of concern for you.”
“I am fine, Belladonna,” I tried to reassure. It wasn’t as if I was lying. In the grand scheme of emotions I had felt since arriving, this did not even sneak into the top five of irrational panics I had had.
“Who we surround ourselves with in our life is often times the very people that are going to help decide our fates,” she said slowly, making sure to grab my attention. “With the people you have gotten to know, do you trust the fate that is set out in front of you?”
[[Do you know something I don’t]]
[[Yes|Chapter Five 3]]
[[I don’t believe in fate]]
“You’re scaring me a bit with that,” I told her. Her words sounded like some sort of ominous prophecy, slinking down my spine.
“Fear is healthy, as long as it does not consume you,” she said.
“Belladonna, do you know something I don’t?”
Her gold eyes flashed at me in the dark. “A great many things, dear heart. But I doubt that is what you are referring to.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, her eyes glaring at something that skittered near two overturned crates. “Just be careful in who you trust. Whether that be us or someone else, a healthy amount of doubt is never a bad thing to harbor.”
We emerged from the alley towards the familiar three tiered fountain. From there, I followed Belladonna’s lead, jutting off from this position a familiar comfort by now.
“Can I ask you a question?” I began hesitantly.
“You may.”
The spray from the fountain hit my feet, and we paused for a moment, so Belladonna could put a few coins within the water's depths. I watched as fist sized goldfish swam to the surface, flicking their tails at her in thanks.
“What is your relationship with Gabriel?”
She smiled a bit at that, clearly not surprised by the question. It was not one I had been intending to ask but with the way they spoke to each other, I had grown curious. I also wished to know if it would be less headache inducing to keep them separated. <<if $chapfour == "gates">> With that being said, however, there were moments yesterday. Small bits of compassion between them when the other was not looking, that I could not shake. I wondered if their ill will towards each other was a misunderstanding or if something ran much deeper than I had given them credit for.<</if>>
“It’s clear there is a past of some sort,” I started with her. “I just was wondering what it was.”
“Why?” she asked.
<<if $relationship == "false">>[[I want to make sure I'm not stepping into anything]]
[[Because I like you and want to know if I’m stepping into something]]<</if>>
[[You two bicker like an old married couple, and you have me curious]]
[[You don't seem to work well together and I'm wondering if it will be a problem]]
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>[[He nearly killed me. Yet, everyone is comfortable around him. But you]]<</if>>
<<set $perception ++>>“Yes,” I said without hesitation. I had been in the Night Market for barely any time at all but I did not feel as if the people I was surrounding myself with, were willing to lead me into danger. Not on purpose at least. Milo seemed the sort that was loyal to a fault when he truly got to know someone. Hazel was kind to all. Gabriel was the protector of the market and Belladonna had for some reason taken an interest in me that I’m sure was vaguely self-serving but not in a way that would end with my life bleeding out in the streets.
She gave a deep sigh at my faith and shook her head. “The unshakable belief of a person is the scariest thing I have ever encountered,” she said gently. “I do hope that you are right though.”
We emerged from the alley towards the familiar three tiered fountain. From there, I followed Belladonna’s lead, jutting off from this position a familiar comfort by now.
“Can I ask you a question?” I began hesitantly.
“You may.”
The spray from the fountain hit my feet, and we paused for a moment, so Belladonna could put a few coins within the water's depths. I watched as fist sized goldfish swam to the surface, flicking their tails at her in thanks.
“What is your relationship with Gabriel?”
She smiled a bit at that, clearly not surprised by the question. It was not one I had been intending to ask but with the way they spoke to each other, I had grown curious. I also wished to know if it would be less headache inducing to keep them separated. <<if $chapfour == "gates">> With that being said, however, there were moments yesterday. Small bits of compassion between them when the other was not looking, that I could not shake. I wondered if their ill will towards each other was a misunderstanding or if something ran much deeper than I had given them credit for.<</if>>
“It’s clear there is a past of some sort,” I started with her. “I just was wondering what it was.”
“Why?” she asked.
<<if $relationship == "false">>[[I want to make sure I'm not stepping into anything]]
[[Because I like you and want to know if I’m stepping into something]]<</if>>
[[You two bicker like an old married couple, and you have me curious]]
[[You don't seem to work well together and I'm wondering if it will be a problem]]
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>[[He nearly killed me. Yet, everyone is comfortable around him. But you]]<</if>>“I don’t believe in fate,” I told her firmly. The idea that everything I did, did not matter. That my life would turn out exactly the same no matter which choice I made, was a ridiculous thought. The very word ‘fate’ made my stomach roll and brought forth a boiling amount of anger. It was a laughable concept.
“That will serve you well,” Belladonna said. “I hope that you clutch that belief in life. It has been the only thing that I can truly say has gotten me to the very position that I am in.”
We emerged from the alley towards the familiar three tiered fountain. From there, I followed Belladonna’s lead, jutting off from this position a familiar comfort by now.
“Can I ask you a question?” I began hesitantly.
“You may.”
The spray from the fountain hit my feet, and we paused for a moment, so Belladonna could put a few coins within the water's depths. I watched as fist sized goldfish swam to the surface, flicking their tails at her in thanks.
“What is your relationship with Gabriel?”
She smiled a bit at that, clearly not surprised by the question. It was not one I had been intending to ask but with the way they spoke to each other, I had grown curious. I also wished to know if it would be less headache inducing to keep them separated. <<if $chapfour == "gates">> With that being said, however, there were moments yesterday. Small bits of compassion between them when the other was not looking, that I could not shake. I wondered if their ill will towards each other was a misunderstanding or if something ran much deeper than I had given them credit for.<</if>>
“It’s clear there is a past of some sort,” I started with her. “I just was wondering what it was.”
“Why?” she asked.
<<if $relationship == "false">>[[I want to make sure I'm not stepping into anything]]
[[Because I like you and want to know if I’m stepping into something]]<</if>>
[[You two bicker like an old married couple, and you have me curious]]
[[You don't seem to work well together and I'm wondering if it will be a problem]]
<<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">>[[He nearly killed me. Yet, everyone is comfortable around him. But you]]<</if>>I didn’t look at her as I spoke. I felt somewhat foolish for the words that were about to escape me. But I reminded myself that this didn’t mean I needed to act on anything.
"I don't really know what I'm asking here," I told her truthfully. "But, he is interesting. I'm around him." He was good looking. "I just want to know if I'm stepping into anything."
<<if $beginningroute == "true">>”You are attracted to a man who wished to sell you for parts?” Belladonna laughed. “Please tell me you have higher self-esteem than that.” When I didn’t say anything, she looked at me incredulously. I didn’t know what all I felt about Gabriel Caine. But I felt something. Even if it was hatred.<</if>>
“Does that mean you will be pursuing him?” she asked curiously.
“It means, that I want to know what I’m getting into. This is all new, and he right now is still kind of the guy that is responsible for my beginnings here in the market. I just– you two – I just want to know if I’m going to be causing a problem or not.”
Belladonna laughed loudly at that, the smile across her face wide and showcasing her pointed teeth. “Oh, by all means, dear heart, pursue away.”
I frowned at that. Tears of mirth were welling in her eyes, tinged with the pinkish hue of blood. “So you two never…?
As she gained control of herself she shook her head. Though, I realized it was more to herself than an answer to my question.
“The Warden does a great many things for the market,” she intoned. “While I am not one to meddle with the laws, there have been a few times Gabriel has managed to help with some of the more distasteful incidents that come with being a courtesan or owning your own business. That is, when I don’t want to get my own hands dirty.”
“What do you mean incidents?” The way she said the word didn’t bring me any sort of comfort.
“I am a powerful woman, $name. I bring many to their knees with a mere look. But that does not mean I am not without my own enemies. And that there are not people within this world who believe they will be the ones to best me. I am unsure why women are seen as weak. Perhaps it is cultural. And it does not matter that I have proven myself far from that. I am still a prize to some. Someone they wish to tame and lay claim to.”
I felt vaguely sick at the implication. Belladonna was a woman of power and strength. I didn’t think I had ever seen a moment where she was any less than that. To know that there were people out there, wanting to break that in her, caused the sick to roll through me.
“And Gabriel takes care of that for you?”
“Secretly, of course,” she laughed. “But I do know. And I do appreciate it.”
“You two don’t seem like you have anything kind to say about one another.”
“I have never spoken an ill or untrue word about the man,” she said pointedly. “Though, given how vehemently him and I disagree on matters, I can see where perhaps some of my words towards him would come off as… harmful.”
It wasn’t answering the question, however. It was only delaying and speaking in half-truths in hopes that I would forget the original context.
[[So what happened between you two to cause the animosity?]]
[[If you know you have spoken harshly to him, you should apologize]]
[[We’re going to all be working together. Is this going to be a problem?]]I didn’t look at her as I spoke. I felt somewhat foolish for the words that were about to escape me. But I reminded myself that this didn’t mean I needed to act on anything.
“I like you,” I told her boldly. “I don’t really know what that means yet, but I do know that you intrigue me. But if that’s going to cause a problem, then I want to know now.”
She frowned a little at that, her gaze towards me unnaturally hesitant. “A problem with whom?”
“The Warden and you.”
The roll of her eyes was prominent, erasing any sort of trepidation from her eyes. “You do not need to worry about what Gabriel will think on that matter. I would in fact encourage you not to take his opinions of me into consideration at all.”
“See,” I said. “That’s what I mean. Right there. What is that with you two?”
“The Warden does a great many things for the market,” she intoned. “While I am not one to meddle with the laws, there have been a few times Gabriel has managed to help with some of the more distasteful incidents that come with being a courtesan or owning your own business. That is, when I don’t want to get my own hands dirty.”
“What do you mean incidents?” The way she said the word didn’t bring me any sort of comfort.
“I am a powerful woman, $name. I bring many to their knees with a mere look. But that does not mean I am not without my own enemies. And that there are not people within this world who believe they will be the ones to best me. I am unsure why women are seen as weak. Perhaps it is cultural. And it does not matter that I have proven myself far from that. I am still a prize to some. Someone they wish to tame and lay claim to.”
I felt vaguely sick at the implication. Belladonna was a woman of power and strength. I didn’t think I had ever seen a moment where she was any less than that. To know that there were people out there, wanting to break that in her, caused the sick to roll through me.
“And Gabriel takes care of that for you?”
“Secretly, of course,” she laughed. “But I do know. And I do appreciate it.”
“You two don’t seem like you have anything kind to say about one another.”
“I have never spoken an ill or untrue word about the man,” she said pointedly. “Though, given how vehemently him and I disagree on matters, I can see where perhaps some of my words towards him would come off as… harmful.”
It wasn’t answering the question, however. It was only delaying and speaking in half-truths in hopes that I would forget the original context.
[[So what happened between you two to cause the animosity?]]
[[If you know you have spoken harshly to him, you should apologize]]
[[We’re going to all be working together. Is this going to be a problem?]]“You two bicker. A lot. It’s like watching a married couple. Or a couple that has been together since the beginning of time.” They almost became different people when around each other. Belladonna more catty and Gabriel more caustic. That was not something that just occurred between two strangers. “It’s caused me to become curious,” I told her honestly.
She smiled at that. I was learning that curiosity was something that delighted Belladonna. It promoted thinking, and she was a woman who tended to value that above all other things.
“I would suggest not telling him you think we bicker like a married couple. I think celestials find marriage sacred still.”
“You’re not answering my question,” I pointed out to her.
“The Warden does a great many things for the market,” she intoned. “While I am not one to meddle with the laws, there have been a few times Gabriel has managed to help with some of the more distasteful incidents that come with being a courtesan or owning your own business. That is, when I don’t want to get my own hands dirty.”
“What do you mean incidents?” The way she said the word didn’t bring me any sort of comfort.
“I am a powerful woman, $name. I bring many to their knees with a mere look. But that does not mean I am not without my own enemies. And that there are not people within this world who believe they will be the ones to best me. I am unsure why women are seen as weak. Perhaps it is cultural. And it does not matter that I have proven myself far from that. I am still a prize to some. Someone they wish to tame and lay claim to.”
I felt vaguely sick at the implication. Belladonna was a woman of power and strength. I didn’t think I had ever seen a moment where she was any less than that. To know that there were people out there, wanting to break that in her, caused the sick to roll through me.
“And Gabriel takes care of that for you?”
“Secretly, of course,” she laughed. “But I do know. And I do appreciate it.”
“You two don’t seem like you have anything kind to say about one another.”
“I have never spoken an ill or untrue word about the man,” she said pointedly. “Though, given how vehemently him and I disagree on matters, I can see where perhaps some of my words towards him would come off as… harmful.”
It wasn’t answering the question, however. It was only delaying and speaking in half-truths in hopes that I would forget the original context.
[[So what happened between you two to cause the animosity?]]
[[If you know you have spoken harshly to him, you should apologize]]
[[We’re going to all be working together. Is this going to be a problem?]]“You two don’t seem to work well together. Is that going to be a problem for what we are going to do?”
Belladonna mused it over, thinking about the statement. When we were dealing with such serious problems within the market, I didn’t know how comfortable I felt with two people so blatantly being at each others throats.
“Gabriel and I did not handle each other with poise the other day. It was one of the first meetings we’ve had in a while. I assure you, it will not be a problem going forth.”
“Just like that?” I asked.
“I cannot speak for Gabriel but I can speak for me.”
I wondered if I had the same conversation with the Warden if he would respond similar. Was it simply that the two of them had been caught off guard the other day? Belladonna had come to the shop quite suddenly.
“The Warden does a great many things for the market,” she intoned. “While I am not one to meddle with the laws, there have been a few times Gabriel has managed to help with some of the more distasteful incidents that come with being a courtesan or owning your own business. That is, when I don’t want to get my own hands dirty.”
“What do you mean incidents?” The way she said the word didn’t bring me any sort of comfort.
“I am a powerful woman, $name. I bring many to their knees with a mere look. But that does not mean I am not without my own enemies. And that there are not people within this world who believe they will be the ones to best me. I am unsure why women are seen as weak. Perhaps it is cultural. And it does not matter that I have proven myself far from that. I am still a prize to some. Someone they wish to tame and lay claim to.”
I felt vaguely sick at the implication. Belladonna was a woman of power and strength. I didn’t think I had ever seen a moment where she was any less than that. To know that there were people out there, wanting to break that in her, caused the sick to roll through me.
“And Gabriel takes care of that for you?”
“Secretly, of course,” she laughed. “But I do know. And I do appreciate it.”
“You two don’t seem like you have anything kind to say about one another.”
“I have never spoken an ill or untrue word about the man,” she said pointedly. “Though, given how vehemently him and I disagree on matters, I can see where perhaps some of my words towards him would come off as… harmful.”
It wasn’t answering the question, however. It was only delaying and speaking in half-truths in hopes that I would forget the original context.
[[So what happened between you two to cause the animosity?]]
[[If you know you have spoken harshly to him, you should apologize]]
[[We’re going to all be working together. Is this going to be a problem?]]“He nearly killed me,” I stated bluntly. “He had no problems with what he did to me. There was no hesitation to end my life despite not even being able to explain what exactly I had done. I was simply inconvenient. Yet, everyone, and I do mean almost everyone, is comfortable with him. They sing his praises. They provide him with trust.” I paused. “Except you.”
A small smile curled at the corner of her lip. “Except me.”
“Can you explain that?”
“I can. Doesn’t mean I will.” Pushing the wave of crimson hair over her shoulder, Belladonna looked ahead at the world like she did everything else. Like she owned it. “You should form your own opinion on the Warden. I can tell you that the things he does is not always something I agree with. Just as I am almost certain he does not agree with me.”
“That’s a very pragmatic way to answer me.”
“You will find in the upcoming days that I am a very pragmatic sort.” I was dissatisfied with her answer and I knew she could tell. I just didn’t understand how such a man could be well liked. Even Belladonna seemed to be defending him. “The flesh pits are obviously a problem in certain situations. But, I will confess, I find myself none too eager to shut them down either.”
“How can you say that?”
“Some people deserve to die, dear heart. And most of them wind up there. You shouldn’t have been there and that is a foresight that our dear Warden didn’t seem to get the message on. However, there are many others in this world I would gladly toss in myself.”
“And the buying and trading of body parts?” I asked. “Do you condone that too?”
“What are you hoping my answer will be?” she asked. “You already have made up your moral standpoint on the issue. Why would my opinion even matter here?” I looked down at my shoes. It didn’t. I just wanted to know which side she landed on. “Careful, dear heart. If you go looking for reasons to hate others, you will wind up a very bitter individual.”
“I don’t think it is an act of bitterness that makes me hate the fleshpits.”
“No,” she said slowly. “I will at least agree with you there. And as for Gabriel, and a partial answer to your question, I have never spoken an ill or untrue word about the man. Though, given how vehemently him and I disagree on matters, I can see where perhaps some of my words towards him would come off as… harmful.”
It wasn’t an answer to the question, however. It was only a delay as she spoke in half-truths, hoping that I would forget the original context.
[[So what happened between you two to cause the animosity?]]
[[If you know you have spoken harshly to him, you should apologize]]
[[We’re going to all be working together. Is this going to be a problem?]]“So, again, I ask, what happened between you two. Something must have happened to cause such animosity.”
Belladonna was silent for a long moment, weighing her words carefully. There was something behind her eyes that I couldn’t quite see, but I could tell there was a careful mask that came in place when in relation to Gabriel Caine.
“I’m afraid that is not my story to tell,” she finally said.
“If you were involved, how is it not?”
“Because Gabriel is a private man. And even my side of the story would uncover things he would not wish to be public.”
I tipped my head at her for that. There was something oddly respectful about her words. It was unclear all that had happened between the two of them, but it did not matter. Belladonna was not going to betray whatever secret was there.
[[Next|Chapter Five 4]]“Shouldn’t you apologize then?” I asked. “If you know you have sometimes spoken harshly to him, maybe telling him that you were wrong would go a long way in repairing whatever has happened between you two.” I doubted it would fix everything, but maybe it was a start. Or, I was simply naive when it came to these two forces of nature and their relationship with each other.
“Oh, dear heart,” she sighed, smiling distantly. She looked almost pained. “If it were only so simple.”
“It could be,” I told her. But she said nothing more to that and I had a feeling, even if I asked her another question, the conversation itself was now closed.
[[Next|Chapter Five 4]]“If all of us are going to be working together, is there going to be a problem between you two?” I couldn’t imagine their incessant distrust would be something helpful in the upcoming days.
“The Warden and I are professionals, dear. We are on your side and dedicated to seeing this through. How we approach matters may vary, but the goal is still the same.”
“And what is that goal?”
She leaned in towards me. It was such a slight gesture, but I felt her gaze pierce my own all the same. “To protect you and find out just what is going on with our beloved home.” When she moved away, I felt a rush of air across my skin, as if the Night Market itself agreed with her sentiment.
[[Next|Chapter Five 4]]We wandered the alleys like we had before until we came to an old city street. Iron lamp posts were spread out over every block and old shops were built into the walls of the alley. Soft glowing light poured out from inside them and I could see through the large storefront windows various wares. Antiques sitting out on display, novelties from other worlds. Item after item with little post cards explaining their purpose, all waiting to be bought. There was a dim and warm glow throughout the alley that made me feel at peace. A soft dew wet the cobblestone street, a backdrop to the lilting music that I could hear coming from the shop's depths. The streets themselves were not busy which added to the comforting air about it all. Instead of a busy market, this section was nothing more than a sprawling alley that curled through the market, smelling like old leather and fresh baked bread.
“Victorian London,” Belladonna said. “That’s what they like to call this section of the street. I’m not sure if this is a real place. They claim it to be. But it is essentially an antiquities area. A beautiful little section of the world that is somewhere out there.”
I was finding I quite liked this area of the market. There was solitude here. It made sense that this was where the Book Baron would hole up in.
“Is it strange to think of that? To know there is more than one world out there?” I asked.
“Not particularly. I was not born here, so I have always had the knowledge that there is more out there. Ah, there it is.” She pointed to a large archway. It looked exactly like a gate, minus the fact that I could see through to the other side.
There was no sign over the top. Just a stone arch, the crevices embedded with opalescent grout. Two big pots of white flowers were overflowing on either side, vines traveling up the stone in a prefect braid. Small glimmering pages hung from the vines like petals, turning on their own to some unseen reader.
People passed this area curiously, more than a few craning their neck to peek in, but I noticed how none ventured forth. Belladonna had said that this area was by invite only, and I had to wonder how many people had disturbed the silence of this quiet little street by trying to enter.
We stood outside the entrance, looking through. Miles of books stretched out in front of us, creating walls and pathways that wound far beyond what I could see. Other than the stone exterior, it looked as if each structure within the domain itself was made from haphazardly stacked books. Even the lanterns within those walls were glowing open tomes.
“Just remember,” Belladonna continued. “Keep it simple with this man. Do not try to deceive him. Do not lie to him. If he asks you a question, most likely he finds you interesting and that is a good thing. If he does not ask you questions, that is fine as well. In and out, as quickly as possible.”
“Doesn’t he like you? Couldn’t you advocate for me?”
Belladonna smiled. “Oh, no dear, I will be wandering the books.”
I tore my eyes away from the teetering stack that I could see tumbling repeatedly in the distance before rebuilding itself. “What?”
“I have a few tomes I am hoping I can find, and he has given me permission to go into the restricted section. You will be fine. I’ll come back and retrieve you when I’m done.” She didn’t even wait. She began walking away from me without giving me time to process what she had said, her eyes alight with barely concealed elation as she began her journey through the stacks.
“Belladonna,” I shouted.
[[Try to run after her]]
[[Wander and look for the Baron]]
I raced after her, pushing through the stone archway with little thought and feeling a sharp pang of magic shoot across my bones. It caused me to stumble as my breath was knocked from me and a vice surrounded my heart. Reaching my hand upwards, I clutched at my chest, feeling something brush against my back in a brief hiss.
Then, the tension eased. I sucked in a few lungfuls of night air and I could have sworn I saw the glittering scales of a snake turn around the corner ahead.
Belladonna was nowhere to be seen when I finally did gain my bearings. Already off somewhere in search of her own treasure. I was alone and headed to meet a Baron who clearly did not like me being here.
The walls reached high, old tomes stacked on top of each other. As I wandered through, I kept my ears open, hoping that I would hear something to lead me in the right direction. Belladonna had told me how to behave in front of this Baron, but not how to find him. I knew that I would never let her live it down. The excitement for the books before her made her too giddy to keep up the professional facade. She had all but abandoned me in favor for ancient knowledge.
I began wandering aimlessly, attempting to find something of significance that would lead me to the Baron. I considered calling out for him but each time I did, the words stuck in my throat. It felt wrong somehow. It was a name I physically could not say and each time I tried, I got the distinct impression I was being watched.
Finally, I came around a corner. After nearly a quarter of an hour of wandering, I emerged into a section of the district that was different from the others. A large tree grew in the middle of a luscious patch of dark green grass. It towered above the book constructed walls, it’s branches dipping downwards in the fine bow of a weeping willow. Beneath it, was a beautiful white iron table, a full tea service and a bowl of berries.
“You’re not my husband.”
My head snapped forward. A woman stood, coming out from the foliage of the trees. She had long black hair that curled down her back in waves, half of it pinned up with glittering jewels. Deep emerald eyes looked upon me curiously as her head tipped to the side, clearly not having expected the likes of me to wander into this portion of the district. The woman was pale, wearing a beautiful gown of soft blue with opalescent stars running up the tulle of her skirts. Her bodice dipped downwards, a string of pearls cascading from the dip of her shoulder, acting as sleeves. And upon her neck, a gemstone snake wrapped around her, the head pointed towards her ample cleavage.
“Uh, no,” I said. “I am not your husband.”
The woman placed her hands on her hips, huffing in irritation. She tipped her head upwards, narrowing her eyes. I saw a glint of gold within the tree above but couldn’t quite tell what it was. The woman’s lips thinned, her foot tapping on the ground, before she turned back to me.
“Well,” she said slowly. “State why you’re here.”
[[I’m seeking an audience with the Baron of the Books]]
[[(half truth) I’m lost]]
[[(lie)I am looking for an old novel]]Hesitantly, I stepped up to the archway. Belladonna had gone through just fine, but that did not mean that I was confident in my own invitation. With a hand stretched before me, I could feel the crack of what I was now associating with powerful magic. It wove around my fingers in a sharp pinch, searching something out. But I got the distinct impression, after one long moment, that it did not intend to hurt me. That whatever was pushing back against my hand, was simply exploring and discovering who I was.
Then, all at once, the magic gave. I stepped easily beneath the archway and through to the other side.
“Guess my invitation was accepted,” I muttered.
The walls reached high, old tomes stacked on top of each other. As I wandered through, I kept my ears open, hoping that I would hear something to lead me in the right direction. Belladonna had told me how to behave in front of this Baron, but not how to find him. I knew that I would never let her live it down. The excitement for the books before her made her too giddy to keep up the professional facade. She had all but abandoned me in favor for ancient knowledge.
I began wandering aimlessly, attempting to find something of significance that would lead me to the Baron. I considered calling out for him but each time I did, the words stuck in my throat. It felt wrong somehow. It was a name I physically could not say and each time I tried, I got the distinct impression I was being watched.
Finally, I came around a corner. After nearly a quarter of an hour of wandering, I emerged into a section of the district that was different from the others. A large tree grew in the middle of a luscious patch of dark green grass. It towered above the book constructed walls, it’s branches dipping downwards in the fine bow of a weeping willow. Beneath it, was a beautiful white iron table, a full tea service and a bowl of berries.
“You’re not my husband.”
My head snapped forward. A woman stood, coming out from the foliage of the trees. She had long black hair that curled down her back in waves, half of it pinned up with glittering jewels. Deep emerald eyes looked upon me curiously as her head tipped to the side, clearly not having expected the likes of me to wander into this portion of the district. The woman was pale, wearing a beautiful gown of soft blue with opalescent stars running up the tulle of her skirts. Her bodice dipped downwards, a string of pearls cascading from the dip of her shoulder, acting as sleeves. And upon her neck, a gemstone snake wrapped around her, the head pointed towards her ample cleavage.
“Uh, no,” I said. “I am not your husband.”
The woman placed her hands on her hips, huffing in irritation. She tipped her head upwards, narrowing her eyes. I saw a glint of gold within the tree above but couldn’t quite tell what it was. The woman’s lips thinned, her foot tapping on the ground, before she turned back to me.
“Well,” she said slowly. “State why you’re here.”
[[I’m seeking an audience with the Baron of the Books]]
[[(half truth) I’m lost]]
[[(lie)I am looking for an old novel]]
“I’m here to see the Baron of the Books.”
She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Of course you are.” Walking over to the table, I watched as she delicately moved about, sitting down and arranging her skirts. “Would you like to join me?”
I looked over my shoulder, desperately hoping Belladonna would appear. “I– but the Baron…”
“Is my husband,” she said with a sigh. Looking around, she wrinkled her nose. I noticed the glittering rings that adorned her fingers and how they cast flecks of opalescent light dancing around like fireflies. “He didn’t even set out the table like I like. Everything is so formal. You would think after so many years of marriage he would put aside his sense of decorum and understand that garden parties need to have a sense of lavish wildness to them.”
The table disappeared to be replaced with a three tiered birch log set, cupcakes, berries and a rose gold tea set placed upon them. The iron chairs were replaced with velvet settees and plush pillows, the rims of it all lined with soft spun gold. Upon the change, the woman oohed and awed, clapping happily with the different aesthetic.
Curling her legs beneath her, she grabbed at the tea, adding an obscene amount of sugar to her cup. “Come. Join me.”
I didn’t really see any other option. Going over, I hesitantly sat down across from the woman. Somewhere in the background I heard the fluttering of books and a distant scream traveling on the wind. It set my spine straight and my senses on high alert.
“Try the nectar berries,” the woman said. “They are my favorite. Direct from my land. Noctine makes sure to keep a supply for me. I see they are rather bountiful today. Someone must be feeling guilty.”
I blinked at her. For everything that Belladonna had prepared me for, this was not it at all. I had been under the impression that she had not only contacted the Baron but that the Baron was a man. “I’m sorry. I was told I would have a meeting with the Baron.”
“I’m sure you were. But, Noctine does not like people. So it is doubtful you were ever going to meet with him. I have a feeling, he set up this date, in order for me to deal with you.”
I shook my head. “And you are?”
“Chrysanthemum. Haust. Not Sala. I refused to take his name until he agrees to be Prince of the Winter Court. Then I can have claim to two courts,” she grinned. “Imagine the balls we could have between the Winter and Autumnal fae. It would be a beautiful marriage of crisp autumn leaves with just a hint of winter freeze curling the edges.”
As she settled back on her lounge, she regarded me with an intensity that made me shift beneath her gaze. I could tell she was studying me. Making decisions on my character before I could even speak. She had a calculating look about her that she did not try to hide, though her face was warm and inviting, rounded at the apples of her cheeks.
“What are you here to see my husband about? Truthfully. Please,” she requested, sipping at her tea.
[[I’m not sure I should tell you. I was supposed to only speak to him]]
[[Tell her the truth]]
[[Refuse to tell her unless you have an audience with the Baron]]“I’m lost,” I told her, casting my eyes around the courtyard. I spied several different passages leading away from here, weaving back into the depths of the book maze surrounding me. “I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”
She raised her brow. “Oh really?”
I felt my stomach clench. The woman looked like a viper, ready to pounce at the hint of a lie. Though, the lie itself looked utterly delightful to her. “I was searching for the Baron?”
“My husband,” she said with a sigh. “And you aren’t lost. You’re where you’re supposed to be. He is simply not.” Looking around, she wrinkled her nose. I noticed the glittering rings that adorned her fingers and how they cast our surroundings with opalescent spots of light. “He didn’t even set out the table like I like. Everything is so formal. You would think after so many years of marriage he would put aside his sense of decorum and understand that garden parties need to have a sense of lavish wildness to them.”
The table disappeared to be replaced with a three tiered birch log set, cupcakes, berries and a rose gold tea set placed upon them. The iron chairs were replaced with velvet settees and plush pillows, the rims of it all lined with soft spun gold. Upon the change, the woman oohed and awed, clapping happily with the different aesthetic.
Curling her legs beneath her, she grabbed at the tea, adding an obscene amount of sugar to her cup. “Come. Join me.”
I didn’t really see any other option. Going over, I hesitantly sat down across from the woman. Somewhere in the background I heard the fluttering of books and a distant scream traveling on the wind. It set my spine straight and my senses on high alert.
“Try the nectar berries,” the woman said. “They are my favorite. Direct from my land. Noctine makes sure to keep a supply for me. I see they are rather bountiful today. Someone must be feeling guilty.”
I blinked at her. For everything that Belladonna had prepared me for, this was not it at all. I had been under the impression that she had not only contacted the Baron but that the Baron was a man. “I’m sorry. I was told I would have a meeting with the Baron.”
“I’m sure you were. But, Noctine does not like people. So it is doubtful you were ever going to meet with him. I have a feeling, he set up this date, in order for me to deal with you.”
I shook my head. “And you are?”
“Chrysanthemum. Haust. Not Sala. I refused to take his name until he agrees to be Prince of the Winter Court. Then I can have claim to two courts,” she grinned. “Imagine the balls we could have between the Winter and Autumnal fae. It would be a beautiful marriage of crisp autumn leaves with just a hint of winter freeze curling the edges.”
As she settled back on her lounge, she regarded me with an intensity that made me shift beneath her gaze. I could tell she was studying me. Making decisions on my character before I could even speak. She had a calculating look about her that she did not try to hide, though her face was warm and inviting, rounded at the apples of her cheeks.
“What are you here to see my husband about? Truthfully. Please,” she requested, sipping at her tea.
[[I’m not sure I should tell you. I was supposed to only speak to him]]
[[Tell her the truth]]
[[Refuse to tell her unless you have an audience with the Baron]]“Oh,” I said. “I am looking for a book. An ancient tome that I was told would be here.”
She raised her brow at me. “And the Baron allowed you to come in and simply peruse his wares?” The woman looked like a viper, ready to pounce at the hint of a lie. Though, the lie itself looked utterly delightful to her.
“I was given permission, yes. Through Belladonna Malady. I believe she made the contact.”
“Interesting, really. While I don’t know these books well, I do know the Baron quite well. And he is not one to let people splash in his curiosities.” Leaning forward, she rested her chin on her upturned palm, her eyes glinting a deep green. “Lies have a smell, you know. Especially if they are bad ones.”
“I really am just looking for a book,” I continued, buckling down on the story.
She rolled her eyes. “No, you are looking for the Baron. My husband.” Primly, she leaned back in the settee. “I assume you, and he had a prior engagement that he is conspicuously not attending.” Looking around, she wrinkled her nose. I noticed the glittering rings that adorned her fingers and how they cast our surroundings with opalescent spots of light. “He didn’t even set out the table like I like. Everything is so formal. You would think after so many years of marriage he would put aside his sense of decorum and understand that garden parties need to have a sense of lavish wildness to them.”
The table disappeared to be replaced with a three tiered birch log set, cupcakes, berries and a rose gold tea set placed upon them. The iron chairs were replaced with velvet settees and plush pillows, the rims of it all lined with soft spun gold. Upon the change, the woman oohed and awed, clapping happily with the different aesthetic.
Curling her legs beneath her, she grabbed at the tea, adding an obscene amount of sugar to her cup. “Come. Join me.”
I didn’t really see any other option. Going over, I hesitantly sat down across from the woman. Somewhere in the background I heard the fluttering of books and a distant scream traveling on the wind. It set my spine straight and my senses on high alert.
“Try the nectar berries,” the woman said. “They are my favorite. Direct from my land. Noctine makes sure to keep a supply for me. I see they are rather bountiful today. Someone must be feeling guilty.”
I blinked at her. For everything that Belladonna had prepared me for, this was not it at all. I had been under the impression that she had not only contacted the Baron but that the Baron was a man. “I’m sorry. I was told I would have a meeting with the Baron.”
“I’m sure you were. But, Noctine does not like people. So it is doubtful you were ever going to meet with him. I have a feeling, he set up this date, in order for me to deal with you.”
I shook my head. “And you are?”
“Chrysanthemum. Haust. Not Sala. I refused to take his name until he agrees to be Prince of the Winter Court. Then I can have claim to two courts,” she grinned. “Imagine the balls we could have between the Winter and Autumnal fae. It would be a beautiful marriage of crisp autumn leaves with just a hint of winter freeze curling the edges.”
As she settled back on her lounge, she regarded me with an intensity that made me shift beneath her gaze. I could tell she was studying me. Making decisions on my character before I could even speak. She had a calculating look about her that she did not try to hide, though her face was warm and inviting, rounded at the apples of her cheeks.
“What are you here to see my husband about? Truthfully. Please,” she requested, sipping at her tea.
[[I’m not sure I should tell you. I was supposed to only speak to him]]
[[Tell her the truth]]
[[Refuse to tell her unless you have an audience with the Baron]]
“I’m not sure if I should be telling you.” I was supposed to talk to the Baron. Get his power. What was I supposed to do now? I wished Belladonna had not wandered off. If these situations were as delicate as she made them out to be, one wrong step was going to land us without the Baron’s power.
“I can guarantee you that anything you tell my husband, I would eventually know,” Chrysanthemum said with a raised brow. “Especially if it has to do with here.”
“Why here?”
“Because he doesn’t care about here and therefore feels no need for secrecy. Besides, he knows how I love political games. I’m assuming that is what you are seeking him out for?”
I shifted on my feet. “It goes a bit deeper than that.”
“How?” she pressed again. The only choice I seemed to have was to walk away. But that didn’t feel as if it was going to get us anywhere. If this woman was truly his wife, then perhaps she was telling the truth. Though, I doubted I could ask for much proof without offending her.
Seeing the debate crossing my eyes, she set her tea aside and pulled at one of the rings adorning her thumb. “Here,” she said. The ring itself was a deep titanium, inlaid with pearls. I shook my head at the sight of it. “Do you not know what that is?” she asked, her voice genuinely curious.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Each Baron has a signet ring. One that contains the majority of their power. This is Noctine’s.” Tilting her head to the side, her expression became a mixture of amused concern. “Do you know much about the Barons?”
Clearly I did not if I didn’t know each Baron had a signet ring that indicated their position within the market.
[[Why would you have his signet ring?]]
[[I’m new here to the Market]]
[[I really just need to meet with your husband]]Taking a deep breath, I looked at the woman, hoping that she was not about to use this moment against me. “I’m supposed to be meeting with the Baron of the Books to ask him for a favor. The world around us is in danger. We need his help.”
She nodded her head, as if the news itself was unsurprising. “Well, I can guarantee you that anything you tell my husband, I would eventually know,” Chrysanthemum said with a raised brow. “Especially if it has to do with here.”
“Why here?”
“Because he doesn’t care about here and therefore feels no need for secrecy. Besides, he knows how I love political games. I’m assuming that is what you are seeking him out for?”
I shifted on my feet. “It goes a bit deeper than that.”
“How?” she pressed again. The only choice I seemed to have was to walk away. But that didn’t feel as if it was going to get us anywhere. If this woman was truly his wife, then perhaps she was telling the truth. Though, I doubted I could ask for much proof without offending her.
Seeing the debate crossing my eyes, she set her tea aside and pulled at one of the rings adorning her thumb. “Here,” she said. The ring itself was a deep titanium, inlaid with pearls. I shook my head at the sight of it. “Do you not know what that is?” she asked, her voice genuinely curious.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Each Baron has a signet ring. One that contains the majority of their power. This is Noctine’s.” Tilting her head to the side, her expression became a mixture of amused concern. “Do you know much about the Barons?”
Clearly I did not if I didn’t know each Baron had a signet ring that indicated their position within the market.
[[Why would you have his signet ring?]]
[[I’m new here to the Market]]
[[I really just need to meet with your husband]]I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you are a lovely person, but I am supposed to have a meeting with the Baron and was given no word that he was sending a proxy in his place.”
Her brows shot through her hairline. “A proxy. Well, I’ve never been called that before.” Observing me carefully, we stared at each other for a prolonged moment. “Listen,” she said finally. “I can guarantee you that anything you tell my husband, I would eventually know,” Chrysanthemum said with a raised brow. “Especially if it has to do with here.”
“Why here?”
“Because he doesn’t care about here and therefore feels no need for secrecy. Besides, he knows how I love political games. I’m assuming that is what you are seeking him out for?”
I shifted on my feet. “It goes a bit deeper than that.”
“How?” she pressed again. The only choice I seemed to have was to walk away. But that didn’t feel as if it was going to get us anywhere. If this woman was truly his wife, then perhaps she was telling the truth. Though, I doubted I could ask for much proof without offending her.
Seeing the debate crossing my eyes, she set her tea aside and pulled at one of the rings adorning her thumb. “Here,” she said. The ring itself was a deep titanium, inlaid with pearls. I shook my head at the sight of it. “Do you not know what that is?” she asked, her voice genuinely curious.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Each Baron has a signet ring. One that contains the majority of their power. This is Noctine’s.” Tilting her head to the side, her expression became a mixture of amused concern. “Do you know much about the Barons?”
Clearly I did not if I didn’t know each Baron had a signet ring that indicated their position within the market.
[[Why would you have his signet ring?]]
[[I’m new here to the Market]]
[[I really just need to meet with your husband]]“Why do you have a Baron’s signet ring?” Married or not, I couldn’t imagine a Baron being so careless as to entrust their source of power elsewhere. Even if it was to his wife.
“He gave it to me this morning so I could get into the district,” she said. “Now I know he gave it to me for ulterior purposes. My husband is a very tricky and crafty man. It’s the most irritating part about him.” She sighed wistfully, her gaze a little far off. “Luckily, I fell in love with his irritating habits first.”
She plucked back up the ring, putting it safely on her thumb once more. “Now, there are two options before you. One, you can believe me, and perhaps I can help you with whatever it is you sought an audience with him about. Or, you can leave. My husband is not a forgiving man, however, and doesn’t like his time wasted. So I would not recommend it. And I know. I know what you’re thinking. How is me being here wasting his time? Because I’m not by his side. This has taken me from him. Possessive bastard will find offense to that.” I got the feeling that this Chrysanthemum highly enjoyed that part of his personality as well.
Sighing, I nodded. There really wasn’t another option that I could see. If Belladonna was hoping for a different outcome, she shouldn’t have left.
“The world is dying,” I explained. Blunt truth felt like the way to go with this woman. While I could see the amusement in her eyes upon my hesitancy, I had the growing suspicion that I would get more from her if I was straightforward. “It is expanding so quickly it is tearing itself apart.”
Chrysanthemum paused as she took in the information. I watched as her demeanor shifted, the smile that looked ever present on her lips twisting into concern. “Well,” she said softly. “Apparently he doesn’t tell me everything.” I watched her bristle, smoothing over her skirts. A bit of gold light sprinkled down from the tree. At the last minute, she scooted out of its way pointedly. “Something in which I will be discussing with him when he grows enough of a spine to show back up.” Sighing, she set her tea aside. “What can I do for you?”
I was unsure if she could, really. But at least she wasn’t immediately dismissing me. At least she believed me.
“I’m supposed to get some of his power. There’s an old rule of the Night Market that says if an unbiased source gets a bit of power from each Baron, they can know the name of the Gatekeeper. I am here to ask your husband for some of that power.”
“Done,” she said with a shrug.
I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“Done,” she repeated. “Really, you should have led with that so we could get on to the much more interesting topics of conversation.”
[[But he’s the Baron. How can you make that decision?]]
[[Well, that was easy]]
[[(suspicious) What is it you will be wanting in return?]]“I’m incredibly new to the Market,” I told her. The signet ring was only the bare minimum of what I’m sure I didn’t know. For someone that was supposed to go around and get the power of each Baron, it might have been significant to know that they held it within an ornate ring.
“That is clear,” Chrysanthemum said. “Not that that’s a bad thing. Not at all really. Just means you have a higher learning curb. But yes, signet rings are assigned to each Baron and the magic they claim is not within the market, is hidden away within those intricate metal depths.” Grabbing the ring, she put it back on her thumb. “Is that enough proof for you to begin telling me why you so desperately need my husband's help? Because, I must admit, walking into his district such as you are? Incredibly dangerous. You and yours must really be in a way.”
I looked around. I was still unsure what was so terrifying about a district lined with books, but the healthy amount of fear I saw in everyone's eyes could not be ignored.
Not seeing much of a choice, I took a deep breath. It was perhaps a risk, talking to this woman. But my other option was to leave and I didn’t think I’d be getting another chance.
“The world is dying,” I explained. Blunt truth felt like the way to go with this woman. While I could see the amusement in her eyes upon my hesitancy, I had the growing suspicion that I would get more from her if I was straightforward. “It is expanding so quickly it is tearing itself apart.”
Chrysanthemum paused as she took in the information. I watched as her demeanor shifted, the smile that looked ever present on her lips twisting into concern. “Well,” she said softly. “Apparently he doesn’t tell me everything.” I watched her bristle, smoothing over her skirts. A bit of gold light sprinkled down from the tree. At the last minute, she scooted out of its way pointedly. “Something in which I will be discussing with him when he grows enough of a spine to show back up.” Sighing, she set her tea aside. “What can I do for you?”
I was unsure if she could, really. But at least she wasn’t immediately dismissing me. At least she believed me.
“I’m supposed to get some of his power. There’s an old rule of the Night Market that says if an unbiased source gets a bit of power from each Baron, they can know the name of the Gatekeeper. I am here to ask your husband for some of that power.”
“Done,” she said with a shrug.
I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“Done,” she repeated. “Really, you should have led with that so we could get on to the much more interesting topics of conversation.”
[[But he’s the Baron. How can you make that decision?]]
[[Well, that was easy]]
[[(suspicious) What is it you will be wanting in return?]]“Look,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I really just need to meet with your husband.”
“And I’m telling you, that will not be happening. If you wish for help, you’ll need to extend a bit of trust and understand that I’m the one that will be providing you with the resolution to your problem.” Plucking the signet ring off the table, she placed it back on her thumb, looking at me levelly. “You don’t have many options here. Noctine hates the minutia of politics. You need his help, you’ll have to go through me to petition him.”
Not seeing much of a choice, I took a deep breath. It was perhaps a risk, talking to this woman. But my other option was to leave, and I didn’t think I’d be getting another chance. Aside from that, there was a part of me that knew I should have expected this. I knew it couldn’t have been as easy as walking into this district without a single hiccup.
“The world is dying,” I explained. Blunt truth felt like the way to go with this woman. While I could see the amusement in her eyes upon my hesitancy, I had the growing suspicion that I would get more from her if I was straightforward. “It is expanding so quickly it is tearing itself apart.”
Chrysanthemum paused as she took in the information. I watched as her demeanor shifted, the smile that looked ever present on her lips twisting into concern. “Well,” she said softly. “Apparently he doesn’t tell me everything.” I watched her bristle, smoothing over her skirts. A bit of gold light sprinkled down from the tree. At the last minute, she scooted out of its way pointedly. “Something in which I will be discussing with him when he grows enough of a spine to show back up.” Sighing, she set her tea aside. “What can I do for you?”
I was unsure if she could, really. But at least she wasn’t immediately dismissing me. At least she believed me.
“I’m supposed to get some of his power. There’s an old rule of the Night Market that says if an unbiased source gets a bit of power from each Baron, they can know the name of the Gatekeeper. I am here to ask your husband for some of that power.”
“Done,” she said with a shrug.
I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“Done,” she repeated. “Really, you should have led with that so we could get on to the much more interesting topics of conversation.”
[[But he’s the Baron. How can you make that decision?]]
[[Well, that was easy]]
[[(suspicious) What is it you will be wanting in return?]]“But he’s the Baron.” While she had his signet ring, did it still count if it came from someone else?
“And he didn’t see fit to keep his meeting, so I will be making that decision for him,” she said with a small smile.
While I admired the sentiment of it, I was still slightly unsure. “Not to be disrespectful, but can you even do that?”
There was a sharp glint to the moss green eyes across from me. I watched as she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling in composure. “Yes. Of course, I can. Marriage is a funny thing that way. It can offer such an imbalance of power or it could help raise you to heights you were never even aware you could reach. Believe me— what is your name?”
“$name.”
“Believe me, $name. I can give you the bit of power you seek. If Noctine is unhappy with my decision, that is something he can take up with me. But, my husband trusts my judgement over his own, more often than not. And again, he has no right to bitch when he couldn’t be bothered to keep his own appointment and needed to trick his wife into dealing with it all instead of just asking.”
Turning back to me, she gestured that I join her for tea, a small cup floating towards me. “Now, tell me, how do you plan to approach the other Barons? Because I’ve met them, and they are not as reasonable as my husband.” I refrained from pointing out how her husband was less than reasonable in this situation.
[[No, the Barons do not seem reasonable at all. I might have to bargain with each]]
[[I think each Baron has a weak point. Something I can perhaps appeal to]]
[[Shouldn't they just do it because the realm might die otherwise?]]“That was easy,” I said. “Really easy.” I didn’t know if it was due to my experiences within the Night Market thus far, but I almost was afraid it was //too// easy. That there would be a catch somewhere along the way. And I didn’t know if I should just take the win now and deal with the consequences later, or if I questioned them all now.
Chrysanthemum laughed a little at the wide-eyed shock on my face. Her laughter sounded like distance bells and her skin became brighter with it. She certainly was not as human as she appeared and as she tucked a few strands of hair away from her face, I caught sight of the pointed ears.
“Often times, situations are much easier than we make them out to be. A lesson I think my dear husband still needs to learn,” she said, casting her gaze up into the tree once more. Something I had seen her do several times now. “Perhaps, this will be a lesson that procrastination and avoidance is unnecessary and if he would simply just ask his lovely wife to hold a meeting for him, she would. Without question. Because she loves him.”
Turning back to me, she gestured that I join her for tea, a small cup floating towards me. “Now, tell me, how do you plan to approach the other Barons? Because I’ve met them, and they are not as reasonable as my husband.” I refrained from pointing out how her husband was less than reasonable in this situation.
[[No, the Barons do not seem reasonable at all. I might have to bargain with each]]
[[I think each Baron has a weak point. Something I can perhaps appeal to]]
[[Shouldn't they just do it because the realm might die otherwise?]]I narrowed my eyes. Easy things usually meant there was a catch. “And what is it you’ll be wanting in returning?” I asked. Absolutely nothing was for free. Even I, with the lack of memories I held dear, knew that.
The smile that crossed her face was knowing. She ducked her eyes downward, examining her nails thoughtfully. I noticed they were blood-red and pointed. “Normally, I would commend you on coming here, knowing that you would have to strike a deal. But, I’m feeling generous today.”
I stared at her. “Why?”
“Because, my darling husband who I hold so dear, tricked me into doing his dirty work. So, I will be giving away his power for free,” she grinned. “And also be demanding that he buys me a new dress in recompense. Really, this entire situation is a win-win for me. I keep my favorite little place in the universe and get a new gown.”
“People are dying,” I told her.
“No,” she corrected, “people will die. If you do not succeed in gaining help. Now, tell me, how do you plan to approach the other Barons because I’ve met them, and they are not as reasonable as my husband.”
[[No, the Barons do not seem reasonable at all. I might have to bargain with each]]
[[I think each Baron has a weak point. Something I can perhaps appeal to]]
[[Shouldn't they just do it because the realm might die otherwise?]]I snatched the tea cup from midair as it hovered before my face. Suspiciously, it looked like it was made exactly to my liking. “No, the Barons don’t seem reasonable. Not from what I’ve heard. I’m sure the people I’m working with have more of a plan but I’m assuming I’ll have to bargain with them somehow.”
“How will you attempt to bargain if you know nothing about them?”
“I have friends,” I explained. “People who have lived here much longer than me. I’m trusting them to give me the information I need so I don’t walk into each situation blind.” Though, if today was an example, I wasn’t sure if that was something I should rely on anymore.
“And what have they told you thus far? Because there are certain things you should be prepared for. For example, the dock Baron never shows his face and each meeting starts with killing the proxy he sends forward. Some vile, disgusting sludge monster most of the time. Makes the entire place stink of rotted fish.” Her nose wrinkled at the memory.
“There is also the Deep. Have you heard of that?” I shook my head. “It’s an entire city beneath the ocean with coral knights and little spectral crabs that bring in wine from the pool of souls. Not quite my taste. Then again, the only one who may have a bit of taste among the Barons is the Dollmaker, and he is someone who I would not even approach if you paid me all the nectar berries in the world. Oh! And then there is the goblin market. If you see the Baron there and get the opportunity, don’t kill him. That’s my job.”
“You wish to kill a Baron?”
“After what he did to me and mine when I was a child? I plan to do a lot more to him than that. But, that day has not come yet. Though, his days are marked. This I swear.”
“Should you be telling me that?”
Chrysanthemum hummed a bit in response, mulling it over. In the end, she chose not to answer me and moved on to something else in favor of ignorance. “I’m curious,” she said. “The Barons are unpleasant individuals even on a good day. And while the market is beautiful, and I do not wish to see anything horrid become of it, why throw yourself into the flames? You walked into this district with little preparation. The other Barons are far too dour to have a pretty wife waiting in the wings to hand you over power. It will not be this easy again.”
[[I can’t sit by while people die]]
[[Because the people who have helped me asked me too]]
[[I feel called to do this]]I snatched the tea cup from midair as it hovered before my face. Suspiciously, it looked like it was made exactly to my liking. “I am assuming each Baron has a weak point. Exploiting that or maybe using it to our advantage, might be the way to go. I kind of hope they will just give me a bit of their power because it’s the right thing to do but…” I trailed off. I really didn’t think that needed much of an explanation.
“I like your moxy,” Chrysanthemum grinned. “Though, do be careful. Most of the Barons are beyond ancient and have been playing this game for far longer than they have a right to. They’ll see someone innocent like you coming from a mile away.”
It oddly was sound advice. I just didn’t know how I was going to apply it yet.
“And what have they told you thus far? Because there are certain things you should be prepared for. For example, the dock Baron never shows his face and each meeting starts with killing the proxy he sends forward. Some vile, disgusting sludge monster most of the time. Makes the entire place stink of rotted fish.” Her nose wrinkled at the memory.
“There is also the Deep. Have you heard of that?” I shook my head. “It’s an entire city beneath the ocean with coral knights and little spectral crabs that bring in wine from the pool of souls. Not quite my taste. Then again, the only one who may have a bit of taste among the Barons is the Dollmaker, and he is someone who I would not even approach if you paid me all the nectar berries in the world. Oh! And then there is the goblin market. If you see the Baron there and get the opportunity, don’t kill him. That’s my job.”
“You wish to kill a Baron?”
“After what he did to me and mine when I was a child? I plan to do a lot more to him than that. But, that day has not come yet. Though, his days are marked. This I swear.”
“Should you be telling me that?”
Chrysanthemum hummed a bit in response, mulling it over. In the end, she chose not to answer me and moved on to something else in favor of ignorance. “I’m curious,” she said. “What did you think Noctine’s weak point would be here? What you were planning to exploit.”
Belladonna was the one that was supposed to be taking charge of this meeting. Or so I had thought. I hadn’t thought too much about this other than to be honest like Belladonna had said. The presence of Chrysanthemum was what blindsided me.
Chrysanthemum sipped her tea loudly. “Don’t answer,” she said with a grin. “Even if you have an answer I doubt it’ll be one that will put you in favor to him. Now,” pushing the bowl of fruit towards me, she grabbed more items to put on her own plate. “Eat. I doubt Belladonna will be picking you up immediately.”
[[He’s here, isn’t he]]
[[Is there anything I can do that would put me in favor with him?]]
I snatched the tea cup from midair as it hovered before my face. Suspiciously, it looked like it was made exactly to my liking. “I don’t understand why I should have a plan. Shouldn’t these Barons just wish to help because the realm will die otherwise?” How could someone not care about that? They lived on the backs of these streets. Once they crumbled, they may not have anywhere else to go.
Chrysanthemum hummed a bit. “You would think, wouldn’t you? It is absolutely amazing how the clear path is rarely the one taken. I can tell you with absolute certainty that my husband would leave this world to its own devices. He has no connection to it. He does not find it his responsibility.”
“But he’s the Baron,” I protested.
“Not by choice.” Setting her teacup aside, she sighed a bit, a lingering sense of dissatisfaction behind her eyes. “You must have a plan. In an ideal world, these Barons will give you their favor without a second thought. But that will not be the case. Because power twists perspective and not everyone has someone as effervescent as me to remind them why life is worth saving. So,” she gestured between us. “How about I help you out a bit. Tell you of some of the intricacies of the Barons. What I know, at least.”
“Any help is appreciated,” I told her honestly.
"The dock Baron never shows his face and each meeting starts with killing the proxy he sends forward. Some vile, disgusting sludge monster most of the time. Makes the entire place stink of rotted fish.” Her nose wrinkled at the memory.
“There is also the Deep. Have you heard of that?” I shook my head. “It’s an entire city beneath the ocean with coral knights and little spectral crabs that bring in wine from the pool of souls. Not quite my taste. Then again, the only one who may have a bit of taste among the Barons is the Dollmaker, and he is someone who I would not even approach if you paid me all the nectar berries in the world. Oh! And then there is the goblin market. If you see the Baron there and get the opportunity, don’t kill him. That’s my job.”
“You wish to kill a Baron?”
“After what he did to me and mine when I was a child? I plan to do a lot more to him than that. But, that day has not come yet. Though, his days are marked. This I swear.”
“Should you be telling me that?”
Chrysanthemum hummed a bit in response, mulling it over. In the end, she chose not to answer me and moved on to something else in favor of ignorance. “I’m curious,” she said. “The Barons are unpleasant individuals even on a good day. And while the market is beautiful, and I do not wish to see anything horrid become of it, why throw yourself into the flames? You walked into this district with little preparation. The other Barons are far too dour to have a pretty wife waiting in the wings to hand you over power. It will not be this easy again.”
[[I can’t sit by while people die]]
[[Because the people who have helped me asked me too]]
[[I feel called to do this]]My gaze traveled upwards towards the hidden areas of the tree above us. I could see gold light glittering occasionally through the boughs. Lighting the white birch of the branches into something almost ethereal.
“He’s up there listening, isn’t he.”
Chrysanthemum laughed loudly at that, reaching forward to some of her nectar berries and popping them in her mouth. “No,” she said. “If he was truly up there I would have dragged him down by now. But he is listening. It’s rather doubtful he would put me in a situation that is potentially dangerous. He’s a very paranoid man. Now,” pushing the bowl of fruit towards me, she grabbed more items to put on her own plate. “Please eat. I insist."
I picked at my food, my stomach in too many knots to truly get anything down. “Do you know Belladonna?”
“Not personally. But as the one of the few people allowed within this district? I was curious. I may have inquired about her when she first started coming around. I may have also wanted to kill her because I thought she was attracted to my husband. Then I found out that she was a book nerd like him and I lost all interest.”
“Not many people are allowed here I take it?”
“No,” Chrysanthemum laughed. “Noctine has taken great time and care to collect all these books. When he first became Baron it was no more than a small library. I swear, some of the trips him and I go on are because he has a lead on a new tome.” Though, despite this, she looked as if she didn’t mind the secrecy one bit.
“Do you like books as well?”
A bark of laughter escaped her. “By the land, no.” she said. “I was a terrible student and hated every book they tried to make me read. Though I do love a story. I find I am a better listener than I am a reader.” The books around her fluttered in response, but she ignored them. “No, I was always much more interested in what the land had to offer me. The way the plants worked. The way the roots sang.”
The tree above us swayed, the boughs reaching out to her. Beneath our feet, small white daisy’s began to sprout across a moss covered carpet and small patches of honeysuckle began to grow up the sides of the walls.
“This is actually the first time I’ve even set foot in this distract for more than a moment. I should have known something was up when Noctine asked me to meet him here.” Though she didn’t look irritated anymore. She almost looked impressed by his ingenuity.
“You're his wife, and he’s never let you into the district.”
“I didn’t even know he was a Baron for the longest time,” she said. “When I found out he was the Book Baron I laughed for days. My husband, my terrifying husband, a Baron of the Books.” she cackled, tears of mirth shining in her eyes. “Big old snake man just protecting his dragon hoard. I love him.”
[[How did you two meet?]]
[[He seems like quite the interesting man]]
[[Did you say snake?]]
“Is there anything that I can do to put me in good favor with him?” It wouldn't hurt to have a Baron on our side. So if there was something I could do to help that situation along, I found myself motivated to do so.
Chrysanthemum laughed. She was rather pretty when she did. She certainly looked different from the others in the market that I had seen. Her skin had a soft glow about it. Or maybe it was just the light emitting from the tree above us.
“If you wish to be in his good favor, you simply have to be nice to his wife. Or love books. There is not much else he won’t find intolerable after a while. Now,” pushing the bowl of fruit towards me, she grabbed more items to put on her own plate. “Please eat. I insist."
I picked at my food, my stomach in too many knots to truly get anything down. “Do you know Belladonna?”
“Not personally. But as the one of the few people allowed within this district? I was curious. I may have inquired about her when she first started coming around. I may have also wanted to kill her because I thought she was attracted to my husband. Then I found out that she was a book nerd like him and I lost all interest.”
“Not many people are allowed here I take it?”
“No,” Chrysanthemum laughed. “Noctine has taken great time and care to collect all these books. When he first became Baron it was no more than a small library. I swear, some of the trips him and I go on are because he has a lead on a new tome.” Though, despite this, she looked as if she didn’t mind the secrecy one bit.
“Do you like books as well?”
A bark of laughter escaped her. “By the land, no.” she said. “I was a terrible student and hated every book they tried to make me read. Though I do love a story. I find I am a better listener than I am a reader.” The books around her fluttered in response, but she ignored them. “No, I was always much more interested in what the land had to offer me. The way the plants worked. The way the roots sang.”
The tree above us swayed, the boughs reaching out to her. Beneath our feet, small white daisy’s began to sprout across a moss covered carpet and small patches of honeysuckle began to grow up the sides of the walls.
“This is actually the first time I’ve even set foot in this distract for more than a moment. I should have known something was up when Noctine asked me to meet him here.” Though she didn’t look irritated anymore. She almost looked impressed by his ingenuity.
“You're his wife, and he’s never let you into the district.”
“I didn’t even know he was a Baron for the longest time,” she said. “When I found out he was the Book Baron I laughed for days. My husband, my terrifying husband, a Baron of the Books.” she cackled, tears of mirth shining in her eyes. “Big old snake man just protecting his dragon hoard. I love him.”
[[How did you two meet?]]
[[He seems like quite the interesting man]]
[[Did you say snake?]]
“I can’t sit by while people die,” I told her. I didn’t matter that I didn’t know these people. It mattered very little to me if they were good or not. What mattered, was that their life was being snuffed out, due to no fault of their own. I couldn’t abide my that.
Chrysanthemum stared at me, her expression a perfect expression of sympathy. “Well, then. You have accomplished something that took me years to do. I am pleasantly impressed.”
“And what is it that I managed to do?” I asked, wondering what it was I had been able to accomplish that took this woman so long to do.
“Purpose.”
I don’t know what I had been expecting, but it had not been that. Purpose. I had a goal now. To save the Night Market. It slotted into place in such a way that I knew I was doing the right thing.
“Now,” pushing the bowl of fruit towards me, she grabbed more items to put on her own plate. “Eat. I doubt Belladonna will be picking you up immediately.”
“You know Belladonna?”
“Not personally. But as the one of the few people allowed within this district? I was curious. I may have inquired about her when she first started coming around. I may have also wanted to kill her because I thought she was attracted to my husband. Then I found out that she was a book nerd like him and I lost all interest.”
“Not many people are allowed here I take it?”
“No,” Chrysanthemum laughed. “Noctine has taken great time and care to collect all these books. When he first became Baron it was no more than a small library. I swear, some of the trips him and I go on are because he has a lead on a new tome.” Though, despite this, she looked as if she didn’t mind the secrecy one bit.
“Do you like books as well?”
A bark of laughter escaped her. “By the land, no.” she said. “I was a terrible student and hated every book they tried to make me read. Though I do love a story. I find I am a better listener than I am a reader.” The books around her fluttered in response, but she ignored them. “No, I was always much more interested in what the land had to offer me. The way the plants worked. The way the roots sang.”
The tree above us swayed, the boughs reaching out to her. Beneath our feet, small white daisy’s began to sprout across a moss covered carpet and small patches of honeysuckle began to grow up the sides of the walls.
“This is actually the first time I’ve even set foot in this distract for more than a moment. I should have known something was up when Noctine asked me to meet him here.” Though she didn’t look irritated anymore. She almost looked impressed by his ingenuity.
“You're his wife, and he’s never let you into the district.”
“I didn’t even know he was a Baron for the longest time,” she said. “When I found out he was the Book Baron I laughed for days. My husband, my terrifying husband, a Baron of the Books.” she cackled, tears of mirth shining in her eyes. “Big old snake man just protecting his dragon hoard. I love him.”
[[How did you two meet?]]
[[He seems like quite the interesting man]]
[[Did you say snake?]]
“When I first got to the market, I had no one. Then, somehow, I had several someone's who wanted to help me. They didn’t know me. They didn’t have to. But they did. I know this is a bigger situation but by doing this, I almost feel like I’m returning the favor,” I said.
Chrysanthemum stared at me, her expression a perfect expression of sympathy. “Well, then. You have accomplished something that took me years to do. I am pleasantly impressed.”
“And what is it that I managed to do?” I asked, wondering what it was I had been able to accomplish that took this woman so long to do.
“Purpose.”
I don’t know what I had been expecting, but it had not been that. Purpose. I had a goal now. To save the Night Market. It slotted into place in such a way that I knew I was doing the right thing.
“Now,” pushing the bowl of fruit towards me, she grabbed more items to put on her own plate. “Eat. I doubt Belladonna will be picking you up immediately.”
“You know Belladonna?”
“Not personally. But as the one of the few people allowed within this district? I was curious. I may have inquired about her when she first started coming around. I may have also wanted to kill her because I thought she was attracted to my husband. Then I found out that she was a book nerd like him and I lost all interest.”
“Not many people are allowed here I take it?”
“No,” Chrysanthemum laughed. “Noctine has taken great time and care to collect all these books. When he first became Baron it was no more than a small library. I swear, some of the trips him and I go on are because he has a lead on a new tome.” Though, despite this, she looked as if she didn’t mind the secrecy one bit.
“Do you like books as well?”
A bark of laughter escaped her. “By the land, no.” she said. “I was a terrible student and hated every book they tried to make me read. Though I do love a story. I find I am a better listener than I am a reader.” The books around her fluttered in response, but she ignored them. “No, I was always much more interested in what the land had to offer me. The way the plants worked. The way the roots sang.”
The tree above us swayed, the boughs reaching out to her. Beneath our feet, small white daisy’s began to sprout across a moss covered carpet and small patches of honeysuckle began to grow up the sides of the walls.
“This is actually the first time I’ve even set foot in this distract for more than a moment. I should have known something was up when Noctine asked me to meet him here.” Though she didn’t look irritated anymore. She almost looked impressed by his ingenuity.
“You're his wife, and he’s never let you into the district.”
“I didn’t even know he was a Baron for the longest time,” she said. “When I found out he was the Book Baron I laughed for days. My husband, my terrifying husband, a Baron of the Books.” she cackled, tears of mirth shining in her eyes. “Big old snake man just protecting his dragon hoard. I love him.”
[[How did you two meet?]]
[[He seems like quite the interesting man]]
[[Did you say snake?]]
I didn’t feel like I had a good answer to that. I knew that I should have said that it was just the right thing to do. That saving people was enough of a justification for my actions. But I knew it ran deeper than that. That there was more to it.
“I just feel like it’s something I’m supposed to do,” I told her. “It’s hard to put into words, but doing this, helping this world, helping these people, is something I feel in my bones. I can’t really put it any other way.”
Chrysanthemum stared at me, her expression a perfect expression of sympathy. “Well, then. You have accomplished something that took me years to do. I am pleasantly impressed.”
“And what is it that I managed to do?” I asked, wondering what it was I had been able to accomplish that took this woman so long to do.
“Purpose.”
I don’t know what I had been expecting, but it had not been that. Purpose. I had a goal now. To save the Night Market. It slotted into place in such a way that I knew I was doing the right thing.
“Now,” pushing the bowl of fruit towards me, she grabbed more items to put on her own plate. “Eat. I doubt Belladonna will be picking you up immediately.”
“You know Belladonna?”
“Not personally. But as one of the few people allowed within this district? I was curious. I may have inquired about her when she first started coming around. I may have also wanted to kill her because I thought she was attracted to my husband. Then I found out that she was a book nerd like him and I lost all interest.”
“Not many people are allowed here I take it?”
“No,” Chrysanthemum laughed. “Noctine has taken great time and care to collect all these books. When he first became Baron it was no more than a small library. I swear, some of the trips him and I go on are because he has a lead on a new tome.” Though, despite this, she looked as if she didn’t mind the secrecy one bit.
“Do you like books as well?”
A bark of laughter escaped her. “By the land, no.” she said. “I was a terrible student and hated every book they tried to make me read. Though I do love a story. I find I am a better listener than I am a reader.” The books around her fluttered in response, but she ignored them. “No, I was always much more interested in what the land had to offer me. The way the plants worked. The way the roots sang.”
The tree above us swayed, the boughs reaching out to her. Beneath our feet, small white daisys began to sprout across a moss covered carpet and small patches of honeysuckle began to grow up the sides of the walls.
“This is actually the first time I’ve even set foot in this distract for more than a moment. I should have known something was up when Noctine asked me to meet him here.” Though she didn’t look irritated anymore. She almost looked impressed by his ingenuity.
“You're his wife, and he’s never let you into the district?”
“I didn’t even know he was a Baron for the longest time,” she said. “When I found out he was the Book Baron I laughed for days. My husband, my terrifying husband, a Baron of the Books.” she cackled, tears of mirth shining in her eyes. “Big old snake man just protecting his dragon hoard. I love him.”
[[How did you two meet?]]
[[He seems like quite the interesting man]]
[[Did you say snake?]]
“How did you two meet?” I asked. From what little I knew about the Book Baron, the two of them seemed like an anomaly of a couple. Then again, what someone presented to the world and who they were behind closed doors tended to be vastly different.
“We grew up adjacent to each other,” she said. “I was the princess of the Autumnal Court, he was the prince of the Winter Court. Our fathers were sometimes at war. Sometimes not. Sometimes they ignored each other for years. It all culminated at the end with me being bored and getting in far over my head, and him recognizing that I was capable of more than anyone ever gave me credit for. I was a very sheltered princess. Noctine, well, he was perhaps not sheltered as much as he should have been. We balanced each other.”
There was something oddly sweet in the way she spoke of him. A soft reverence for a hardened man who she obviously loved more than life itself. I wondered how he spoke of her. “So you’re royalty?”
“I am sure I have no claim to anything any longer,” she said with a laugh. “But yes. Once a princess, always a princess.”
“But you don’t live here?”
“No. We live on an airship, actually. It turns out my husband and I have a penchant for not sitting still, and we travel the stars quite frequently. And the different realities. Last week he took me to the moon. It was to visit his mother, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
“You sound entirely in love,” I told her.
“It is the best and worst feeling ever. Do you have anyone like that?”
<<if $hazelro == "true">>I thought of soft hazel eyes and the way her smile turned upwards in the quiet moments in the shop. “I think I might,” I told her. “It’s still very new. How do you know though when they’re the one? If you believe in that, that is.” <<elseif $miloro == "true">>I thought of warm, amber eyes and that crooked grin. “I think I might,” I told her. “It’s all very new and maybe a bit rushed.” I still hadn’t quite wrapped my head around what had happened the night before. “How do you know though when they’re the one? If you believe in that, that is.”
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>”I don’t,” I told her. “Not yet. Things are so complicated that I don’t see how that would even work right now.” Love was a distant thought in my mind “How do you know though? When you find someone worth doing all this with. How do you know they’re the one? That is if you even believe in ‘the one’.”<</if>>
“It’s different for everyone, I’m sure,” she said with a shrug. “But, for Noctine and I, it felt easy and maybe that’s the best indicator. When it's effortless. One day, he just took my hand, and I never looked back. Love is that simple.”
<<if $relationship == "false">> I leaned back in my chair. I didn’t know yet if I had ever felt anything as simple as that. I hoped to one day. Effortless love. It sounded so peaceful. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> Effortless. It was the one thing I could say about Milo at least. Though I was unsure if what I was feeling for him was love. <<elseif $hazero == "true">> Everything with Hazel was effortless. She had the kindest soul I had ever known. While I didn’t know if it was love that I was feeling, I knew I wanted her around. The peace she offered was irreplaceable.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Five 6]]“He seems like quite the interesting man,” I told her. The woman before me was soft curves, ample hips, and a sheer beauty. Contrasted with the underhanded and violent description I had had of Noctine Sala so far, they didn’t seem to fit. Though, every time she spoke of him, she did so with reverence. I was curious to see the two of them together and wondered if that was something I would ever get the chance to experience.
“I have been with him for most of my life and I do not think even I have reached the depths of the well that is Noctine Sala. But I will gladly spend the rest of my days uncovering everything that makes him the man he is.”
“You sound entirely in love,” I told her.
“It is the best and worst feeling ever. Do you have anyone like that?”
<<if $hazelro == "true">>I thought of soft hazel eyes and the way her smile turned upwards in the quiet moments in the shop. “I think I might,” I told her. “It’s still very new. How do you know though when they’re the one? If you believe in that, that is.” <<elseif $miloro == "true">>I thought of warm, amber eyes and that crooked grin. “I think I might,” I told her. “It’s all very new and maybe a bit rushed.” I still hadn’t quite wrapped my head around what had happened the night before. “How do you know though when they’re the one? If you believe in that, that is.”
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>”I don’t,” I told her. “Not yet. Things are so complicated that I don’t see how that would even work right now.” Love was a distant thought in my mind “How do you know though? When you find someone worth doing all this with. How do you know they’re the one? That is if you even believe in ‘the one’.”<</if>>
“It’s different for everyone, I’m sure,” she said with a shrug. “But, for Noctine and I, it felt easy and maybe that’s the best indicator. When it's effortless. One day, he just took my hand, and I never looked back. Love is that simple.”
<<if $relationship == "false">> I leaned back in my chair. I didn’t know yet if I had ever felt anything as simple as that. I hoped to one day. Effortless love. It sounded so peaceful. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> Effortless. It was the one thing I could say about Milo at least. Though I was unsure if what I was feeling for him was love. <<elseif $hazero == "true">> Everything with Hazel was effortless. She had the kindest soul I had ever known. While I didn’t know if it was love that I was feeling, I knew I wanted her around. The peace she offered was irreplaceable.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Five 6]]“Wait,” I said with a frown. “Did you say snake?” It was not the first time that I had heard a snake being spoken of in some relation to this man. But now, as I listened to her, I began to wonder if the man himself was not an actual snake.
Chrysanthemum hummed in acknowledgement. “It’s his true form,” she said. “Part monster and all that. Though I hate that that side of him is referred to as a monster. It’s quite beautiful, really. Especially when it’s attacking. I love curling up next to him in that form.” She shifted in her seat, clearly thinking fondly of what she described. “He’s so quiet and docile then.”
I couldn’t tell if she was lying or poking fun at him during a conversation he was obviously listening to.
All I could think though was a giant snake descending from the sky, towards a raven haired beauty. I wondered if the blue-eyed- mans story had a bit more truth to it than I thought.
[[Next|Chapter Five 6]]The books began to flutter gently, chiming together in a small flick of their pages before they released the smell of leather and bound parchment. I had the distinct impression that our time was now coming to an end with the way that Chrysanthemum’s eyes ticked upwards.
“Will you be attending the Lantern Festival tonight?” she asked, finishing off the rest of her tea. I did the same, though I looked at her with confusion. Something I found myself doing often these days.
“Lantern Festival?”
“You don’t know of the Lantern Festival? Just who are you even getting your information from? Because they are obviously not telling you the important things you need to know.” Sighing, she began taking her signet ring off. Or at least, the one she claimed to be her husbands. “Haven’t you noticed the lanterns getting darker of the last few weeks?”
“I honestly thought that was normal.”
“No. Of course not. Once a year, the Night Market holds the Lantern Festival. The one night of the year in which the lanterns all go out and are relit once more by the magic within the market itself. Everyone shows for it. Good food. Amazing dancing. And a night under the closest thing they have to stars here. It truly is amazing. You must go.”
“I’ll try.” It did sound like something worth attending.
Reaching behind her, Chrysanthemum plucked a pearl from her headpiece. Along with the signet ring, she now held within the palm of her hand, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, a small opalescent chrysanthemum glowed faintly against her skin.
“I wish you luck, $name,” she said with a soft smile, holding the gemstone flower out to me. “Don’t let the other Barons sway you differently. Despite how things get, stick to what you believe and say it until you are deemed insane. I find that eventually, if you say something long enough and loud enough, someone will end up listening.”
Standing, I tucked the gem inside my pocket, feeling it thrum within my hand. I looked at the woman, knowing that the other Barons would be nothing like her. She stood from the settee, the gauzy blue of her skirts whipping around her legs.
“Thank you,” I told her.
“Go save the world for me, okay? I rather like the shopping here.”
As I walked away from her, I heard the slither of a snake and a small giggle coming from the woman. But when I glanced over my shoulder one last time, Chrysanthemum was already gone.
[[Next|Chapter Five 7]]
Belladonna stood around the corner, waiting for me. She leaned against one wall, her spine aligned with a series of tattered books. Her hands were empty, and her face was tilted up towards the night sky. The lanterns in the distance did look dimmer than I was used to, the sweltering warmth that emitted from them suddenly diminished.
“You didn’t find any books?” I asked, stepping to her side.
“I did. I already sent them back,” she responded. “How is Chrysanthemum this afternoon?”
The girl with the moss green eyes and a snake for a husband. It had certainly not been what I expected. “She seems like a woman who is always doing fine. She says you two have never met?”
“The Baron is rather protective of his wife. There are very few things that are known to be important to him. She is one of them and often has a target on her because of it.” The idea that the woman’s laughter and light would someday be gone based on who she was married to was a terrible thought. I had only known her for a small time but she already felt like such a big part of the Night Market itself. “Baron Sala takes great precautions with her,” Belladonna continued. “Despite him allowing me to peruse his books, I doubt he would appreciate a vampire such as I to be anywhere near his wife.”
“Why?”
“Because of the things I am involved in. Power respects power, but it does not mean we like seeing each other at our front door.”
We walked back to Hazel’s in silence, the day turning cooler. I thought about what Chrysanthemum had said. How easily she had given over her husband's power. Part of me wondered if she was the actual Baron, but her husband was Baron in name to protect her. Perhaps she didn’t even know the full scope. Or she did and it was all another part of an intricate game.
“I leave you here, dear heart,” Belladonna said. We stopped at the three-tiered fountain. “I must get ready for the festival tonight.”
“Are you going?”
“I’ll be around,” she confirmed.
[[I wondered if Hazel would go with me]]
[[Would you like to go with me?]]
[[I wondered if I could ask Gabriel to come with me]]
[[I wondered if I could ask Milo to come with me]]
Bidding my goodbyes to Belladonna I made my way back to the apothecary. The streets were more subdued and I wondered how many were getting ready for the festival this evening. And if the ghosts within the streets got the opportunity to join. Just for the night.
Hazel was sweeping the main lobby when I came in, the day's work having already been cleaned up. Her hand was still wrapped in the same scarf I had seen from that morning, clutching the broom gingerly. But she smiled as I entered the room.
“How did it go?” she asked, pausing in her cleanup.
[[Good|Good H]]
[[I have no idea|I have no idea H]]
[[I learned the Baron is an actual snake|I learned the Baron is an actual snake H]]
<<set $lanternfestival to "hazel">>Looking down the burnt out alley, I knew I could go home. Hazel would be waiting, probably eager to hear about what had happened with the Baron. But as I looked back at Belladonna, I wondered what a Lantern Festival looked like. What you did to celebrate. Given the kind of woman Belladonna was, I had a feeling that her experiences during a festival, vastly differed from the others.
“Would you like to go to the festival together?” I asked. I didn’t even really think. The words were out before I even acknowledged what I was asking.
At no point did Belladonna’s face change. There was little to no emotion in her eyes as she stared at me evenly, as if trying to make a decision about my motivations. It was something I had begun to notice about her. People were divided into two categories for her. Customers and business associates. I assumed I fell more in the lines of a business associate. And business associates didn’t usually ask to tag along to events or spend time walking together.
“You wish to come with me to the Lantern Festival?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Are you assuming I don’t already have a previous engagement?” she quirked a brow towards me.
I paused. I hadn’t thought about that. She was, after all, a courtesan. It was something easily forgotten at times. For an event like this, she was most likely booked.
[[Do you?]]
[[I’m sorry. I wasn’t really thinking]]
[[Cancel it]]
<<set $lanternfestival to "belladonna">>Bidding my goodbyes to Belladonna I made my way back to the apothecary. The streets were more subdued and I wondered how many were getting ready for the festival this evening. And if the ghosts within the streets got the opportunity to join. Just for the night.
Hazel was sweeping the main lobby when I came in, the day's work having already been cleaned up. Her hand was still wrapped in the same scarf I had seen from that morning, clutching the broom gingerly. But she smiled as I entered the room.
“How did it go?” she asked, pausing in her cleanup.
[[Good|G Good]]
[[I have no idea|G I have no idea]]
[[The Baron is an actual snake|G The Baron is an actual snake]]
<<set $lanternfestival to "gabriel">>Bidding my goodbyes to Belladonna I made my way back to the apothecary. The streets were more subdued and I wondered how many were getting ready for the festival this evening. And if the ghosts within the streets got the opportunity to join. Just for the night.
Hazel was sweeping the main lobby when I came in, the day's work having already been cleaned up. Her hand was still wrapped in the same scarf I had seen from that morning, clutching the broom gingerly. But she smiled as I entered the room.
“How did it go?” she asked, pausing in her cleanup.
[[Good]]
[[I have no idea]]
[[I learned the Baron is an actually snake]]
<<set $lanternfestival to "milo">>"I learned today that the Baron of the books is a snake."
"Fun," Hazel chirped.
"And that he's married."
Hazel's eyes went wide then, whipping her head towards me. "He has a wife?"
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized. Her eyes went wide, fingers curling reflexively against her broom. “Not that it was terrible for her to meet you. I mean, terrible for her to be having to do his job.”
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. Walking around the market with a sought after commodity such as that did not bode well for me. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most capable of protecting these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t wish it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes for the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “Would you like to go together?” I asked her.
It was like a light went on. Hazel’s entire demeanor changed. When Hazel smiled, she did so with her whole body. “That would be great. I usually meet Milo there for a bit. We rarely spend holidays apart. But, when things start getting too party-like, we usually part ways. I’d love to show you some of my secret spots.”
I felt a soft smile appear across my face. “I’d like that.”
“I just have to finish something up out back. Why don’t you go get washed up, and I’ll meet you in an hour?”
[[Sounds good]]
[[What do you have to go do?]]
[[Would you like help?]]“I have no clue,” I said with a small sigh. “I didn’t even meet the Baron. I met his wife.”
“His wife? He has a wife?”
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized. Her eyes went wide, fingers curling reflexively against her broom. “Not that it was terrible for her to meet you. I mean, terrible for her to be having to do his job.”
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. Walking around the market with a sought after commodity such as that did not bode well for me. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most capable of protecting these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t wish it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes for the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “Would you like to go together?” I asked her.
It was like a light went on. Hazel’s entire demeanor changed. When Hazel smiled, she did so with her whole body. “That would be great. I usually meet Milo there for a bit. We rarely spend holidays apart. But, when things start getting too party-like, we usually part ways. I’d love to show you some of my secret spots.”
I felt a soft smile appear across my face. “I’d like that.”
“I just have to finish something up out back. Why don’t you go get washed up, and I’ll meet you in an hour?”
[[Sounds good]]
[[What do you have to go do?]]
[[Would you like help?]]“I think really well,” I told her. “I didn’t see the Baron but I got the magic all the same. I’ll take that as a success.”
Hazel frowned. “What do you mean you didn’t meet the Baron? I thought Belladonna had it all set up?”
“She did. I met with his wife.”
“His wife? He has a wife?”
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized. Her eyes went wide, fingers curling reflexively against her broom. “Not that it was terrible for her to meet you. I mean, terrible for her to be having to do his job.”
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. Walking around the market with a sought after commodity such as that did not bode well for me. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most capable of protecting these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t wish it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes for the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “Would you like to go together?” I asked her.
It was like a light went on. Hazel’s entire demeanor changed. When Hazel smiled, she did so with her whole body. “That would be great. I usually meet Milo there for a bit. We rarely spend holidays apart. But, when things start getting too party-like, we usually part ways. I’d love to show you some of my secret spots.”
I felt a soft smile appear across my face. “I’d like that.”
“I just have to finish something up out back. Why don’t you go get washed up, and I’ll meet you in an hour?”
[[Sounds good]]
[[What do you have to go do?]]
[[Would you like help?]]The idea of taking a moment for myself was a strange one, but not unappealing. It suddenly was apparent how little time I was taking for myself since being here. Though, that was probably an intentional design on everyone else's part. Keeping my mind active had been the best thing they could have done for me. Now, I just had to figure out what I wanted to do. It was increasingly apparent that I needed some sort of hobby.
She smiled at me encouragingly. “I won’t be long. I promise.” The back door opened and closed, taking her with it, the cool wind of the market wafting against my ankles. I stared around the room. The apothecary always seemed a bit more empty when Hazel wasn’t inhabiting it.
Slowly, I walked around the shop, looking around and silently wondering how much of it had changed from the early years. When her mother had owned it. When Hazel was little and an apprentice. I wondered how much they gutted the place when Malcolm passed. Or how either Hazel or Milo could really stomach being inside here.
Walking up to the front counter, I stared at a lighter floorboard. There were three of them that looked as if they had been replaced, but I could see a scorch mark near the last board, one of the older ones, that looked like it had been thoroughly cleaned but not erased.
Crouching down, I bent at the knee, staring at it, but not touching. The gate had been here. I didn’t know how I knew, but I could almost see the faint crackling outline of it. The way it swallowed the body that was pushed through its depths. Echoes of a cry sounded somewhere behind me, ghosts of the past still lingering after all this time. Anguish painted these walls and floors, clawing their way forward in the silence.
A soft mew came from behind me as Mr. Billows curled against my leg, pawing at the hem of my $bottoms. I scooted away from the boards and reached out to pet him, tearing myself from the past.
Burying my fingers in his fur, I took a steadying breath.“And where have you been?” I asked. He hadn’t come home for his cream that morning. Though Hazel hadn’t seemed worried.
Mr. Billows mewed at me again, and I couldn’t help but give him scratches behind the ears. “Come on,” I told him. “Let’s go get you some more cream.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H1]]
I frowned as I looked around the shop. Everything looked done. Overly done, in fact. “What is it you need to go do?”
“Oh,” she said, as if she hadn’t expected me to ask. “It’s nothing really.” She was grabbing her shawl. “I just wanted to check something down by the creek. Especially if the lanterns are going out tonight. Want to make sure everything is working properly.”
I frowned at her in confusion. She wasn’t making a lot of sense but then again, I had noticed that about Hazel. When she was in a rush, her mind worked eighteen steps ahead of her feet. It was a rarity that she made sense in moments like this.
She smiled at me encouragingly. “I won’t be long. I promise.” The back door opened and closed, taking her with it, the cool wind of the market wafting against my ankles. I stared around the room. The apothecary always seemed a bit more empty when Hazel wasn’t inhabiting it.
Slowly, I walked around the shop, looking around and silently wondering how much of it had changed from the early years. When her mother had owned it. When Hazel was little and an apprentice. I wondered how much they gutted the place when Malcolm passed. Or how either Hazel or Milo could really stomach being inside here.
Walking up to the front counter, I stared at a lighter floorboard. There were three of them that looked as if they had been replaced, but I could see a scorch mark near the last board, one of the older ones, that looked like it had been thoroughly cleaned but not erased.
Crouching down, I bent at the knee, staring at it, but not touching. The gate had been here. I didn’t know how I knew, but I could almost see the faint crackling outline of it. The way it swallowed the body that was pushed through its depths. Echoes of a cry sounded somewhere behind me, ghosts of the past still lingering after all this time. Anguish painted these walls and floors, clawing their way forward in the silence.
A soft mew came from behind me as Mr. Billows curled against my leg, pawing at the hem of my $bottoms. I scooted away from the boards and reached out to pet him, tearing myself from the past.
Burying my fingers in his fur, I took a steadying breath.“And where have you been?” I asked. He hadn’t come home for his cream that morning. Though Hazel hadn’t seemed worried.
Mr. Billows mewed at me again, and I couldn’t help but give him scratches behind the ears. “Come on,” I told him. “Let’s go get you some more cream.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H1]]
“Do you need any help?” Now that the meeting with the Baron was done, I found that I didn’t have plans for the rest of the day. The apothecary was clean, the wood was stacked, and it even looked like the orders for tomorrow were organized.
“No,” she waved me off. “It is your day off, remember? Go, rest for a bit. You rarely have done that. I feel like all of us have worked you ragged since you came here.”
The thing was, I wasn’t really sure what to do. It was becoming increasingly apparent that I maybe needed to get a hobby. Otherwise, I was going to become dangerously close to being like Gabriel.
“Seriously. Sit. Read. Take a moment to yourself,” Hazel urged.
I thought of the books that had stacked against the walls today and the strange woman who resided within them. “I’ll try,” I told her.
She smiled at me encouragingly. “I won’t be long. I promise.” The back door opened and closed, taking her with it, the cool wind of the market wafting against my ankles. I stared around the room. The apothecary always seemed a bit more empty when Hazel wasn’t inhabiting it.
Slowly, I walked around the shop, looking around and silently wondering how much of it had changed from the early years. When her mother had owned it. When Hazel was little and an apprentice. I wondered how much they gutted the place when Malcolm passed. Or how either Hazel or Milo could really stomach being inside here.
Walking up to the front counter, I stared at a lighter floorboard. There were three of them that looked as if they had been replaced, but I could see a scorch mark near the last board, one of the older ones, that looked like it had been thoroughly cleaned but not erased.
Crouching down, I bent at the knee, staring at it, but not touching. The gate had been here. I didn’t know how I knew, but I could almost see the faint crackling outline of it. The way it swallowed the body that was pushed through its depths. Echoes of a cry sounded somewhere behind me, ghosts of the past still lingering after all this time. Anguish painted these walls and floors, clawing their way forward in the silence.
A soft mew came from behind me as Mr. Billows curled against my leg, pawing at the hem of my $bottoms. I scooted away from the boards and reached out to pet him, tearing myself from the past.
Burying my fingers in his fur, I took a steadying breath.“And where have you been?” I asked. He hadn’t come home for his cream that morning. Though Hazel hadn’t seemed worried.
Mr. Billows mewed at me again, and I couldn’t help but give him scratches behind the ears. “Come on,” I told him. “Let’s go get you some more cream.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H1]]
Hazel appeared a little under an hour later, a blouse of the softest looking white linen replacing the stained one she had adorned earlier. The sleeves were puffy and looked crisp, but her skirt was still patchwork. I didn’t know how I would feel if I ever saw her in anything but.
“Ready?” she asked. Her hair was done up in a high bun, curled tendrils framing her face, having escaped from the floral scarf she wore.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> “You look stunning.”
I was finding my favorite thing was quickly becoming seeing that blush rush across Hazel’s cheeks. It turned them a deep peach that highlighted the softness in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered, smoothing her hands across her skirt.<</if>>
While Hazel didn’t have lanterns hanging in her small portion of the Night Market, I could tell that the market beyond did look dimmer. The cast that was usually in the sky was faded and grey. A washed out smear on the horizon.
I cast my eyes up and down her form. “Are you… you?” I asked delicately. I didn’t know if I would be spending the evening with Hazel, or with a well made construct.
“Does it bother you if I’m not?” she asked hesitantly.
[[I would prefer it to be you. Not a construct]]
[[I don’t care if you are a construct]]
[[Whatever makes you comfortable. But it can’t be forever]]
So she wasn’t. Hazel was a body made of twig and stone while the flesh and blood version was tucked somewhere safe inside her room, pupating this form of hers to run around the market without consequence.
“I would prefer you to be you,” I told her honestly. I wanted to get to know the real her. Not the one that she used as a crutch. <<if $hazelro == "true">> “When I reach down, I want to hold your hand. Feel your skin.”
“But it’s life like,” she protested. “I’ve perfected it over the years and–”
I cupped her cheek. “You know what I mean.” Gently, she leaned into my palm, though I noticed how her eyes looked away in shame.<</if>>
“It’s just for a bit,” she said quietly. “It won’t always be like this. I really do want to work up to a version of me that doesn’t need to expend this magic to go out. But I’m just not comfortable with it right now.”
I nodded. I supposed that was fair. I hadn’t known her for long and this type of change was going to take some time. Dismantling whatever drove her to this point was not going to happen overnight.
“When did all this start?” I asked.
Hazel shrugged, the movement causing her blouse to shift and rustle. The painstaking effort she had gone through to make this construct look real was almost terrifying. I doubted anyone who didn’t know her could tell the difference. Which begged the question, what else could she do?
“I’ve always been able to. But when I was younger it was animal forms. Little bunnies. A bird. I wasn’t able to complete the human form until I was an adult. It required spell ingredients that I wasn’t old enough to acquire. Even now, I can’t just do it on a whim. It takes planning. I’ve had this one in reserve for the festival for a few weeks now.”
Leading me outside, we stopped walked through the gate, the wisps coming down to wish Hazel farewell. I glanced up at her bedroom window, noticing the candle burning. Her real body was sitting alone up top while I took the puppet version of her out into the market.
“Shall we?” she asked. Every time Hazel had to walk down that alley, I noticed the breath she took. For the most part, she was a recluse, rarely leaving to venture into the market unless someone else was with her. I had a feeling it was predominantly because of the ghosts that lay beyond.
[[We don’t have to go]]
[[I’ll be right here]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Take her hand]]<</if>>So she wasn’t. Hazel was a body made of twig and stone while the flesh and blood version was tucked somewhere safe inside her room, pupating this form of hers to run around the market without consequence.
“I really don’t care if you are a construct, if that’s what makes you comfortable.” It was a handicap that she had learned to work around. There was nothing wrong with it, from what I could see. In fact, the ability she had to make an entire body out of things from her garden, was impressive. I doubted anyone that didn’t know her could tell the difference.
“It really doesn’t bother you?” she asked.
“It really doesn’t.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> A blush crossed the apples of her cheeks as she began swaying her skirts back and forth. “I promise you that when you and I are together, I will be me.”
“Together?”
“Oh! Uh– yes? I didn’t mean to assume– I mean, I’m not assuming. I– whatever you’re comfortable with.” She slapped both her hands to her face and groaned amidst my laughter.
“I know what you mean, Hazel.”
“Good. Great. Change the subject, please.”
Because I was merciful, I did.<</if>>
“When did all this start?” I asked.
Hazel shrugged, the movement causing her blouse to shift and rustle. The painstaking effort she had gone through to make this construct look real was almost terrifying. I doubted anyone who didn’t know her could tell the difference. Which begged the question, what else could she do?
“I’ve always been able to. But when I was younger it was animal forms. Little bunnies. A bird. I wasn’t able to complete the human form until I was an adult. It required spell ingredients that I wasn’t old enough to acquire. Even now, I can’t just do it on a whim. It takes planning. I’ve had this one in reserve for the festival for a few weeks now.”
Leading me outside, we stopped walked through the gate, the wisps coming down to wish Hazel farewell. I glanced up at her bedroom window, noticing the candle burning. Her real body was sitting alone up top while I took the puppet version of her out into the market.
“Shall we?” she asked. Every time Hazel had to walk down that alley, I noticed the breath she took. For the most part, she was a recluse, rarely leaving to venture into the market unless someone else was with her. I had a feeling it was predominantly because of the ghosts that lay beyond.
[[We don’t have to go]]
[[I’ll be right here]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Take her hand]]<</if>>So she wasn’t. Hazel was a body made of twig and stone while the flesh and blood version was tucked somewhere safe inside her room, pupating this form of hers to run around the market without consequence.
“Hazel, I want you to do whatever makes you comfortable. But you do need to understand, that it cannot be forever.” I didn’t know what had happened to her to make her come to the conclusion that the only way to greet the world anymore, was through leaf and twine. One day, it was going to backfire on her. One day, she would need to realize that she was missing out on what made life beautiful.
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m just not ready yet.”
Eyes tipped downwards, I could tell she was waiting with bated breath. As if I was going to chastise her. “Then you are simply not ready,” I said instead. She looked at me with clear surprise.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> A blush crossed the apples of her cheeks as she began swaying her skirts back and forth. “I promise you that when you and I are together, I will be me.”
“Together?”
“Oh! Uh– yes? I didn’t mean to assume– I mean, I’m not assuming. I– whatever you’re comfortable with.” She slapped both her hands to her face and groaned amidst my laughter.
“I know what you mean, Hazel.”
“Good. Great. Change the subject, please.”
Because I was merciful, I did.<</if>>
“When did all this start?” I asked.
Hazel shrugged, the movement causing her blouse to shift and rustle. The painstaking effort she had gone through to make this construct look real was almost terrifying. I doubted anyone who didn’t know her could tell the difference. Which begged the question, what else could she do?
“I’ve always been able to. But when I was younger it was animal forms. Little bunnies. A bird. I wasn’t able to complete the human form until I was an adult. It required spell ingredients that I wasn’t old enough to acquire. Even now, I can’t just do it on a whim. It takes planning. I’ve had this one in reserve for the festival for a few weeks now.”
Leading me outside, we stopped walked through the gate, the wisps coming down to wish Hazel farewell. I glanced up at her bedroom window, noticing the candle burning. Her real body was sitting alone up top while I took the puppet version of her out into the market.
“Shall we?” she asked. Every time Hazel had to walk down that alley, I noticed the breath she took. For the most part, she was a recluse, rarely leaving to venture into the market unless someone else was with her. I had a feeling it was predominantly because of the ghosts that lay beyond.
[[We don’t have to go]]
[[I’ll be right here]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Take her hand]]<</if>>“We don’t have to go down there.” I could see the panic. It warred within her each time she stepped foot outside her front gate. For a home that had so many bad memories, it was still more inviting than what lay twisted before us.
“I’ll be okay,” she said, though I couldn’t tell if she was trying to encourage herself. “I will. Just… could you maybe distract me? Milo does this thing when we walk down the alley. It helps a lot.”
“What does he do?”
“Um, well, he sings. He tells jokes. Sometimes he dances. Honestly, if you just talk, I’ll be okay.”
I would talk until I was out of breath if it wiped the fear from her eyes.
“How is your hand?” I asked her. I began to take her down the alley, intent on keeping her distracted. “Does it hurt at all?”
“No,” she said rather quickly. Then; “Yes. A little?” I could see her fingers curl over the wounded palm, worrying at the edges of the silk scarf she tied there.
“I wish you would let me look at it.”
“You can tonight,” she said. “I just put some new herbs on it. I want the bandage to stay tight, so it’ll heal properly. I’ll probably have a scar though.”
Next to us, something skittered within one of the buildings. When Hazel’s gaze went to flick to the inside of it, I raised my voice a bit higher. If I had to, I would talk over every little sound that dared to creep into our walk.
“Did you know that the Baron of the Books doesn’t even let his wife within those walls?”
Hazel looked at me, keeping her eyes away from the burnt buildings hugging on either side of us. “She was there today,” she commented.
“It was her first time.” Or at least it was according to the woman.
Hazel was using my words as an obvious lifeline, clinging to them in hopes of distracting herself as her name became a whisper throughout the alley. “Do you know why?”
[[No, she didn’t say]]
[[I guess she could have been lying]]
[[Maybe she has a hatred towards books]]Upon seeing the look on her face, I felt the sudden urge to protect her. “I’ll be right here. Right by your side.”
She nodded her head a little, fretting at a few of the bottles she wore from her belt. I had a feeling that they were all ones of protection, and it pained me to think about the amount of times she had to use them.
“How is your hand?” I asked her. I began to take her down the alley, intent on keeping her distracted. “Does it hurt at all?”
“No,” she said rather quickly. Then; “Yes. A little?” I could see her fingers curl over the wounded palm, worrying at the edges of the silk scarf she tied there.
“I wish you would let me look at it.”
“You can tonight,” she said. “I just put some new herbs on it. I want the bandage to stay tight, so it’ll heal properly. I’ll probably have a scar though.”
Next to us, something skittered within one of the buildings. When Hazel’s gaze went to flick to the inside of it, I raised my voice a bit higher. If I had to, I would talk over every little sound that dared to creep into our walk.
“Did you know that the Baron of the Books doesn’t even let his wife within those walls?”
Hazel looked at me, keeping her eyes away from the burnt buildings hugging on either side of us. “She was there today,” she commented.
“It was her first time.” Or at least it was according to the woman.
Hazel was using my words as an obvious lifeline, clinging to them in hopes of distracting herself as her name became a whisper throughout the alley. “Do you know why?”
[[No, she didn’t say]]
[[I guess she could have been lying]]
[[Maybe she has a hatred towards books]]Without thinking, I reached out, taking her hand. It was small in mine. The moment my hand touched hers she clung to me, taking the lifeline while her eyes stared straight ahead into the burnt dark. I could feel the bandage that was still wrapped around her palm and the way the herbs were packed beneath it.
I glanced down at it. “Does it hurt?”
She startled at the question, looking at her hand. “No. Well, yes. A little.”
I began to take her down the alley, intent on keeping her distracted. If any of the ghosts came near us, I would protect her.
“I wish you would let me look at it.”
“You can tonight,” she said. “I just put some new herbs on it. I want the bandage to stay tight, so it’ll heal properly. I’ll probably have a scar though.”
I let my thumb run across the floral material. Next to us, something skittered within one of the buildings. When her gaze went to flick to the inside of it, I tugged at her, keeping her attention on me.
“Did you know that the Baron of the Books doesn’t even let his wife within those walls?”
Hazel looked at me, keeping her eyes away from the burnt buildings hugging on either side of us. “She was there today,” she commented.
“It was her first time.” Or at least it was according to the woman.
Hazel was using my words as an obvious lifeline, clinging to them in hopes of distracting herself as her name became a whisper throughout the alley. “Do you know why?”
[[No, she didn’t say]]
[[I guess she could have been lying]]
[[Maybe she has a hatred towards books]]“No, she didn’t actually say. She did a lot of talking up towards a tree and a lot of passive-aggressive comments towards him even though he wasn’t there. It was odd.”
“Do you think he was listening?” she asked.
“I absolutely think he was listening. Monitoring that entire meeting probably.” There was no doubt in my mind that the Baron had been lingering. I wondered why he didn’t take the meeting himself.
“Maybe that’s why she was able to give you the Baron power,” Hazel mused. “He was right there the entire time.”
“The entire thing was weird. I almost felt like there was a pageantry to it all. Right down to the location even. I don’t know if that’s normal but it at least has given me a small idea of what to expect.”
Hazel scooted closer to me, hesitantly reaching out with her free hand across herself and lay it on my arm. “How do you think a Book Baron even came to be?” she asked. “I would think there would be so many other things to choose from than lording over books for the rest of your life.”
“They lord over information.” At least that’s how Belladonna had explained it. When put into that perspective, it felt far more dangerous than any sort of weapon out there ever could be. At least for the masses. “I could easily see them as the last force standing if things went south here.”
Hazel frowned. “Them?”
It was a theory. One that had been percolating in the back of my mind since living the district. “She, Chrysanthemum, gave me the Baron power far too easily. I don’t think she can do that simply by being married.”
“Lady Baron,” Hazel whispered in reverence. “We need more of those. Perhaps the market wouldn’t be in such dire straights if we had one.”
“Sounds like the market would be better off without Barons all together.” So far, I was hard-pressed to find a Baron that sounded as if they were doing any good for the marketplace.
“You aren’t wrong.”
The three-tiered fountain bubbled within our sight. How quickly it had become a sight of comfort and a waypoint towards home. <<if $hazelro == "true">>By the way Hazel relaxed against me, I had a feeling it was the same reprieve for her as well.<</if>>
“Can you tell me about this festival?” I asked. “Chrysanthemum told me a little bit but not much.”
“Oh,” Hazel’s eyes were wide. “Of course. I’m so sorry, $name. I sometimes forget that this is all new to you.”
It was flattering in a way. To be perceived as someone so engrained in the market that I at least gave off the perception that I knew what I was doing.
“The Lantern Festival is once a year,” she started. “It is when the magic of the market manifests itself to relight the darkening lights above and give life anew once more.” She tipped her head upwards to the low hanging lanterns that swayed upon the frayed wire. “They aren’t usually something you can reach for,” she said. “When they get low like this, it is an indication that we are getting to the end of their time. Soon, they will go out and for a brief moment, the entirety of the Night Market will be cast in darkness.”
I looked at the lanterns above, noticing a few of them already flickering.
[[Why does that sound terrifying?]]
[[Have they ever taken long to come back on?]]
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Is this like the area Gabriel and Belladonna took me too?]] <</if>>“She could have been lying.” The entire situation felt almost like a play and I was only there to act out a specific role. Then again, the same might be able to be said about my entire time within the Night Market. If I wanted to get specific.
“Do you think she was?”
I looked at Hazel out of the side of my eye. “Maybe about something? I don’t know. It all felt too easy. And not that I’m complaining, but I just thought with this being a Baron, it would be much harder to obtain their power.”
Hazel thought about this for a moment, trying her hardest not to let her eyes wander. “Well, Belladonna chose the Baron of the Books for a reason. Maybe it was because she knew it would be the easiest.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe.”
Hazel scooted closer to me, hesitantly reaching out with her free hand across herself and lay it on my arm. “How do you think a Book Baron even came to be?” she asked. “I would think there would be so many other things to choose from than lording over books for the rest of your life.”
“They lord over information.” At least that’s how Belladonna had explained it. When put into that perspective, it felt far more dangerous than any sort of weapon out there ever could be. At least for the masses. “I could easily see them as the last force standing if things went south here.”
Hazel frowned. “Them?”
It was a theory. One that had been percolating in the back of my mind since living the district. “She, Chrysanthemum, gave me the Baron power far too easily. I don’t think she can do that simply by being married.”
“Lady Baron,” Hazel whispered in reverence. “We need more of those. Perhaps the market wouldn’t be in such dire straights if we had one.”
“Sounds like the market would be better off without Barons all together.” So far, I was hard-pressed to find a Baron that sounded as if they were doing any good for the marketplace.
“You aren’t wrong.”
The three-tiered fountain bubbled within our sight. How quickly it had become a sight of comfort and a waypoint towards home. <<if $hazelro == "true">>By the way Hazel relaxed against me, I had a feeling it was the same reprieve for her as well.<</if>>
“Can you tell me about this festival?” I asked. “Chrysanthemum told me a little bit but not much.”
“Oh,” Hazel’s eyes were wide. “Of course. I’m so sorry, $name. I sometimes forget that this is all new to you.”
It was flattering in a way. To be perceived as someone so engrained in the market that I at least gave off the perception that I knew what I was doing.
“The Lantern Festival is once a year,” she started. “It is when the magic of the market manifests itself to relight the darkening lights above and give life anew once more.” She tipped her head upwards to the low hanging lanterns that swayed upon the frayed wire. “They aren’t usually something you can reach for,” she said. “When they get low like this, it is an indication that we are getting to the end of their time. Soon, they will go out and for a brief moment, the entirety of the Night Market will be cast in darkness.”
I looked at the lanterns above, noticing a few of them already flickering.
[[Why does that sound terrifying?]]
[[Have they ever taken long to come back on?]]
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Is this like the area Gabriel and Belladonna took me too?]] <</if>>“She said she didn’t like books. I wonder if it is a hatred that runs deep.”
Hazel giggled at that. “He keeps her away from there because he’s afraid of what she’ll do to them.”
I nodded solemnly. “Probably. She seemed like kind of a vengeful soul.”
Hazel scooted closer to me, hesitantly reaching out with her free hand across herself and lay it on my arm. “How do you think a Book Baron even came to be?” she asked. “I would think there would be so many other things to choose from than lording over books for the rest of your life.”
“They lord over information.” At least that’s how Belladonna had explained it. When put into that perspective, it felt far more dangerous than any sort of weapon out there ever could be. At least for the masses. “I could easily see them as the last force standing if things went south here.”
Hazel frowned. “Them?”
It was a theory. One that had been percolating in the back of my mind since leaving the district. “She, Chrysanthemum, gave me the Baron power far too easily. I don’t think she can do that simply by being married.”
“Lady Baron,” Hazel whispered in reverence. “We need more of those. Perhaps the market wouldn’t be in such dire straights if we had one.”
“Sounds like the market would be better off without Barons all together.” So far, I was hard-pressed to find a Baron that sounded as if they were doing any good for the marketplace.
“You aren’t wrong.”
The three-tiered fountain bubbled within our sight. How quickly it had become a sight of comfort and a waypoint towards home. <<if $hazelro == "true">>By the way Hazel relaxed against me, I had a feeling it was the same reprieve for her as well.<</if>>
“Can you tell me about this festival?” I asked. “Chrysanthemum told me a little bit but not much.”
“Oh,” Hazel’s eyes were wide. “Of course. I’m so sorry, $name. I sometimes forget that this is all new to you.”
It was flattering in a way. To be perceived as someone so engrained in the market that I at least gave off the perception that I knew what I was doing.
“The Lantern Festival is once a year,” she started. “It is when the magic of the market manifests itself to relight the darkening lights above and give life anew once more.” She tipped her head upwards to the low hanging lanterns that swayed upon the frayed wire. “They aren’t usually something you can reach for,” she said. “When they get low like this, it is an indication that we are getting to the end of their time. Soon, they will go out and for a brief moment, the entirety of the Night Market will be cast in darkness.”
I looked at the lanterns above, noticing a few of them already flickering.
[[Why does that sound terrifying?]]
[[Have they ever taken long to come back on?]]
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Is this like the area Gabriel and Belladonna took me too?]] <</if>>“The entire situation sounds terrifying.” I couldn’t imagine the lights going out. The darkness that would consume the market. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why but the moment that was quickly looming on our horizon felt insurmountable.
“It can be,” Hazel said. “The dark can be intimidating. I might just be used to it by now.”
“It’s always been this way?”
She nodded. “My mother said it wasn’t like that before. When they lived underground. But ever since we migrated up top I think it has been a thing. And you can tell the lanterns need it. The lower they get and the dimmer they get, the closer you know it is to the Lantern Festival.”
“So, the lantern's relighting is essentially a way for the market to continue,” I said, “a way that the Night Market is protecting itself?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“But, and I am not saying I don’t believe in it, if the Night Market is sentient, why isn’t it protecting itself? Why does it keep expanding? Why are there so many tears?”
Hazel frowned at that, the thought itself more of a conundrum than I’m sure I had even realized at this point. “I don’t know. I’ve asked myself the same question over and over again. But, maybe it’s not for us to know.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H3]]
An eternal night. If the lights never came back on, the night market would be cast into dark. I wondered if that was going to be the true end. Not the splitting of the fabric of reality, not the market stretching too thin, but the lights one day, going out and never turning back on.
“How long have they been out before?”
“Not long,” Hazel said. “It’s less than a minute. Sometimes it feels a bit more but Milo and I used to time it. The entire ordeal takes very little time. Magic is funny that way. It acts swiftly and sometimes without reason. You’ll see tonight.”
I didn’t know why, but there was a small coil of anxiety over that.
“So, the lantern's relighting is essentially a way for the market to continue,” I said, “a way that the Night Market is protecting itself?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“But, and I am not saying I don’t believe in it, if the Night Market is sentient, why isn’t it protecting itself? Why does it keep expanding? Why are there so many tears?”
Hazel frowned at that, the thought itself more of a conundrum than I’m sure I had even realized at this point. “I don’t know. I’ve asked myself the same question over and over again. But, maybe it’s not for us to know.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H3]]
”When I went with Gabriel and Belladonna, we found a small portion where the lanterns were already out. Is this the same thing?” The place where the tear was. The place I had fallen through and where I had been sucked back in again. I felt a small shiver run through my spine at the thought of it.
“No. I don’t think so at least. Sometimes though, the lanterns don’t relight. Maybe those faded out in the previous year.” I could see Hazel’s eyes looking up towards the lanterns. “I think we are losing more areas each year,” she confided. “I don’t know if it's because the market is stretching too thin or if the magic is waning, but it is happening.”
“When you say the magic is waning, do you mean the magic of the Night Market itself?”
She nodded. “It’s hard to explain. My mother used to tell me stories. Back when the market was not so big. Magic was untethered then. There was more to draw from. Now it feels trapped.”
“But the magic is what ticks them back on each year?”
“Yes. Though, I know there are more practical explanations out there, but I do believe it’s the magic. Even Milo does, and he tends to be someone that doesn’t believe in much.”
“So, the lantern's relighting is essentially a way for the market to continue,” I said, “a way that the Night Market is protecting itself?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“But, and I am not saying I don’t believe in it, if the Night Market is sentient, why isn’t it protecting itself? Why does it keep expanding? Why are there so many tears?”
Hazel frowned at that, the thought itself more of a conundrum than I’m sure I had even realized at this point. “I don’t know. I’ve asked myself the same question over and over again. But, maybe it’s not for us to know.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H3]]
As we wandered through the Spice District I couldn’t help but notice the stalls. They had been changed for the evening. Awnings were now replaced with multicolored fabric, stretched across support beams to trap the steam from the boiling pots. Small gold bells were tied to chairs and counters, jingling with each person that passed. It coated the district with the sound of delicate chimes. We didn’t linger long there. Hazel veered us off into another alley, where triangular banners were stretched across the passageway, mingling with the dimming lanterns. The ground itself had large hurricane lamps scattered about, lighting the walkway brighter than the sky above.
“They learned that the alleys should be lit,” Hazel explained. “I am almost certain it is a mandate from the Velvet Guard. No one likes to fumble around in the dark in a panic when the lights get this dim.”
Where we finally landed was someplace that I was almost certain didn’t exist before tonight. It was a large open district that stretched on farther than my eye could see, the walls all lined with brightly lit booths, nearly blinding to look at. Various types of what I assumed were games, were being played at each, while large poles stood ever third stall, trussed up with stuffed animals, bags, hats, and various other paraphernalia.
I looked around, my eyes wide while I was taking it all in. In the distance, I could see some donkeys milling about. A hovering platform of apples and carrots flew above them, while there looked to be some sort of petting zoo with what I assumed were animals, situated off to the side.
“What is this place?” I asked in awe.
“The carnival,” Hazel said. “I figured we could play some games and maybe go on a ride or two before we meet up with Milo. He always wins me a stuffed animal here. He claims it’s to replace Mr. Billows, but I think it more has to do with besting his old scores.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s not very good at games.”
I snorted with laughter before following her further into the square.
Everywhere we walked, my eyes were drawn to a new place. I had thought the lights of the lanterns had been bright when I first arrived. I had even thought that the wisps were too luminous late at night when I was trying to sleep. But this. This was blinding. The lights were fluorescent and thrummed with a high-pitched whir. Loud bursts of laughter and gongs danced around us with triumphant shouts from the crowd around. I didn’t understand a thing of what I was seeing. But what I did understand, was that Hazel absolutely loved it.
“Oh,” she gasped. “They kept it.”
At first, I didn’t realize what she was talking about, the crowd in front of us too thick. But as they began to part, I saw what was causing her to jump up and down on the balls of her feet.
A large tunnel was laid before us, a perfect stream of blue water meandering into its depths. Above it, wooden cut-outs of cherub like kittens were hung, little light up bows clutched in their paws. They all had knowing grins on their face that seemed to follow you no matter where you stepped. Below them, were large boats in the shape of pouncing tabby’s, tufts of fur drifting off their ears in the night wind. And there, at the cat paw archway, stood two individuals, dressed in crudely made catsuits, whiskers painted on their face.
“Welcome to the tunnel of Purrrrrfect love. Three tickets please.” They sounded dead inside.
I didn’t know if I should laugh, cry, or think it’s the most adorable thing I had ever seen, but either way, Hazel looked over the moon. She had her hands clasped together, her eyes wide and bright as she started at the ticket takers.
“What do you say, $name? Please come with me. It’s the best ride here. I promise you will love it.”
[[This ride was ridiculous, but I would of course endure it for Hazel]]
[[The ride looked absolutely adorable, and I was excited to join Hazel]]
[[I was almost terrified of what was about to happen and was nervous to join Hazel]]“Why not,” I told her, trying to hide the smile on my face. Hazel jumped up and down, practically squeaking in delight. She looked at the individuals that were staring at her, handing over some tickets from her little clutch purse.
“Do you still have the complimentary cat ears?” she asked.
The man dressed as a calico with one green eye and one blue, sighed deeply. I wondered what had to happen to an individual to make them work a job like this. Turning, he swished his tail, bending down to reach into a basket and pull out two pairs of furry cat ears. Hazel snatched them immediately, donning one pair and standing on tip toe to put a pair on me.
“Purrrfect,” she giggled. The look on her face was absolutely priceless, her nose scrunched up in amusement. There was no way she did not see the shock in my eyes or the way that I was clearly wondering if she had come unhinged. But a huff of incredulous laughter escaped me anyway simply due to the joy that radiated from her own smiling and laughing form.
Taking me by the hand, she practically dragged me through the clasped paw gates and helped me onto the rickety boat. It was lined with mylar ribbon that wafted with each sway of the water.
“Enjoy your ride,” the calico dressed man said. “But remember to beware of the heartbreak hairball.” He offered no information from there and instead pushed the boat forward, and before I knew it, we were heading into the tunnel, scrunched together on the back of a leaping cat boat's back.
The tunnel was dark at first, the sound of purring echoing around us in a pulse. When the lights came on, they were dim red points that bounced around the room. Small little paws hit at them until the walls itself lit up fully. The small river we floated upon was buffered by a long stretch of concrete on either side where animatronic cats rolled back and forth, kicking small balls of yarn into the air while simultaneously mewing softly at each other. The animatronics themselves were creaking with the grinding of gears, their paws hitting at odd angles, and springs shooting from their joints like bits of fur.
“Aren’t they darling?”
[[Hazel, I think they’re falling apart]]
[[(tongue and cheek)They are the most precious thing I have ever seen]]
[[I love this]]
<<set $cats to "ridiculous">>“Of course I will,” I told her in sincerity. The ride looked a bit dated, but I was certain it was going to be fun. Hazel jumped up and down, practically squeaking in delight. She looked at the individuals that were staring at her, handing over some tickets from her little clutch purse.
“Do you still have the complimentary cat ears?” she asked.
The man dressed as a calico with one green eye and one blue, sighed deeply. I wondered what had to happen to an individual to make them work a job like this. Turning, he swished his tail, bending down to reach into a basket and pull out two pairs of furry cat ears. Hazel snatched them immediately, donning one pair and standing on tip toe to put a pair on me.
“Purrrfect,” she giggled. The look on her face was absolutely priceless, her nose scrunched up in amusement. I couldn’t help but grin back at her, the two of us looking like fools with the lopsided ears barely fitting our heads.
Taking me by the hand, we went through the clasped paw gate together, stepping onto the rickety boat. It was lined with mylar ribbon that wafted with each sway of the water.
“Enjoy your right,” the calico dressed man said. “But remember to beware of the heartbreak hairball.” He offered no information from there and instead pushed the boat forward, and before I knew it, we were heading into the tunnel, scrunched together on the back of a leaping cat boat's back.
The tunnel was dark at first, the sound of purring echoing around us in a pulse. When the lights came on though, they were dim red points that bounced around the room. Small little paws hit at them until the walls itself lit up fully. The small river we floated upon was buffered by a long stretch of concrete on either side where animatronic cats rolled back and forth, kicking small balls of yarn into the air while simultaneously mewing softly at each other. The animatronics themselves were creaking with the grinding of gears, their paws hitting at odd angles, and springs shooting from their joints like bits of fur.
“Aren’t they darling?”
[[Hazel, I think they’re falling apart]]
[[(tongue and cheek)They are the most precious thing I have ever seen]]
[[I love this]]
<<set $cats to "adorable">>“Yes?” I said with trepidation. I don’t know why the entire thing was reminding me of some sort of murder tunnel but with his squeaky boats and its chipped neon sign, it was exactly what I thought. But it made Hazel happy. Unbelievably happy. So who was I to deny her this?
Hazel jumped up and down, practically squeaking in delight. She looked at the individuals that were staring at her, handing over some tickets from her little clutch purse.
“Do you still have the complimentary cat ears?” she asked.
The man dressed as a calico with one green eye and one blue, sighed deeply. I wondered what had to happen to an individual to make them work a job like this. Turning, he swished his tail, bending down to reach into a basket and pull out two pairs of furry cat ears. Hazel snatched them immediately, donning one pair and standing on tip toe to put a pair on me.
“Purrrfect,” she giggled. The look on her face was absolutely priceless, her nose scrunched up in amusement and while I knew she could see the hesitation in my eyes, it did ease a bit with the way she was grinning.
Taking me by the hand, she guided me through the clasped paw gates and helped me onto the rickety boat. It was lined with mylar ribbon that wafted with each sway of the water.
“Enjoy your right,” the calico dressed man said. “But remember to beware of the heartbreak hairball.” He offered no information from there and instead pushed the boat forward, and before I knew it, we were heading into the tunnel, scrunched together on the back of a leaping cat boat's back.
The tunnel was dark at first, the sound of purring echoing around us in a pulse. When the lights came on though, they were dim red points that bounced around the room. Small little paws hit at them until the walls itself lit up fully. The small river we floated upon was buffered by a long stretch of concrete on either side where animatronic cats rolled back and forth, kicking small balls of yarn into the air while simultaneously mewing softly at each other. The animatronics themselves were creaking with the grinding of gears, their paws hitting at odd angles, and springs shooting from their joints like bits of fur.
“Aren’t they darling?”
[[Hazel, I think they’re falling apart]]
[[(tongue and cheek)They are the most precious thing I have ever seen]]
[[I love this]]
<<set $cats to "hesitant">>“Hazel,” I tried to think of the best way to say this. “I’m pretty sure this ride is falling apart.”
It was as if she didn’t even hear me though as she pointed ahead. “Oh! Look! It’s alleycat way.” Sure enough, the next scene was a bridge that stretched over the water. One in which we would head under. Garbage littered it to make it look like an abandoned portion of the Night Market and what I assumed were supposed to be ‘cats’ were curled up in cardboard boxes, sharing a plate of fish together. With their tiny paws, they clinked bottles of milk together, reclining in the warm corners of the alley.
When we dipped under the bridge itself, it was lined with cat themed graffiti.
<<if $cats == "ridiculous">>Turning, I looked at Hazel. The ride of ridiculous. It was clear that it was old and falling apart. A janky old love boat ride with the theme of kitties seemed like the strangest idea I had possibly ever heard. But, she loved it. She was looking around as the cats started to do acrobatics over our boats, flinging themselves across the water and yowling upon their descent. She was laughing like it was the most hysterical thing she had ever seen while simultaneously cooing over the fluffy kitties.
“That one looks like Mr. Billows,” she pointed.
The cat did not. It had a cog for an eye and half its face needed to be repainted. But I just couldn’t burst her bubble. Not when she was clearly having the time of her life.
“Yes it does,” I agreed. “Yes it does.” <<elseif $cats == "adorable">>Turning, I looked at Hazel. The ride was of course old and falling apart, but there was such a charm to the entire thing. Whether it be the off tune yowling that was heard as the cats started doing acrobatics over the river, or the way they were sitting upon fluffy blankets, kneading them softly. It didn’t matter. I didn’t know if it was possible to come on this ride and not smile.
“That one looks like Mr. Billows,” she pointed to a cat at the ledge, dipping his head down to drink from the river.
“It does,” I agreed. Even the fact that it needed a new paint job did not deter from how absolutely adorable it was. <<elseif $cats == "hesitant">>The ride was old and falling apart. There was no way you could argue against that. But, for whatever reason, Hazel was in love. Absolutely in love. Every small detail she pointed out, even when the cats themselves were half hidden beneath a burnt out light. It was clear she had been on this ride dozens of times before and yet it had not once lost its magic for her.
As a cat flung itself over the river though, nearly knocking me in the head, I scooted lower into my seat.
“Look,” she said, pointing excitedly. “That cat looks exactly like Mr. Billows.”
It didn’t. It looked straight out of a horror film. So I only just vaguely nodded at her and chose to watch her reactions to it all instead.<</if>>
[[Continue on this love boat… you have no other choice]]“Clearly this is the most precious thing I have ever lain witness to,” I said, trying to hide my grin.
It was as if she didn’t even hear me though as she pointed ahead. “Oh! Look! It’s alleycat way.” Sure enough, the next scene was a bridge that stretched over the water. One in which we would head under. Garbage littered it to make it look like an abandoned portion of the Night Market and what I assumed were supposed to be ‘cats’ were curled up in cardboard boxes, sharing a plate of fish together. With their tiny paws, they clinked bottles of milk together, reclining in the warm corners of the alley.
When we dipped under the bridge itself, it was lined with cat themed graffiti.
<<if $cats == "ridiculous">>Turning, I looked at Hazel. The ride of ridiculous. It was clear that it was old and falling apart. A janky old love boat ride with the theme of kitties seemed like the strangest idea I had possibly ever heard. But, she loved it. She was looking around as the cats started to do acrobatics over our boats, flinging themselves across the water and yowling upon their descent. She was laughing like it was the most hysterical thing she had ever seen while simultaneously cooing over the fluffy kitties.
“That one looks like Mr. Billows,” she pointed.
The cat did not. It had a cog for an eye and half its face needed to be repainted. But I just couldn’t burst her bubble. Not when she was clearly having the time of her life.
“Yes it does,” I agreed. “Yes it does.” <<elseif $cats == "adorable">>Turning, I looked at Hazel. The ride was of course old and falling apart, but there was such a charm to the entire thing. Whether it be the off tune yowling that was heard as the cats started doing acrobatics over the river, or the way they were sitting upon fluffy blankets, kneading them softly. It didn’t matter. I didn’t know if it was possible to come on this ride and not smile.
“That one looks like Mr. Billows,” she pointed to a cat at the ledge, dipping his head down to drink from the river.
“It does,” I agreed. Even the fact that it needed a new paint job did not deter from how absolutely adorable it was. <<elseif $cats == "hesitant">>The ride was old and falling apart. There was no way you could argue against that. But, for whatever reason, Hazel was in love. Absolutely in love. Every small detail she pointed out, even when the cats themselves were half hidden beneath a burnt out light. It was clear she had been on this ride dozens of times before and yet it had not once lost its magic for her.
As a cat flung itself over the river though, nearly knocking me in the head, I scooted lower into my seat.
“Look,” she said, pointing excitedly. “That cat looks exactly like Mr. Billows.”
It didn’t. It looked straight out of a horror film. So I only just vaguely nodded at her and chose to watch her reactions to it all instead.<</if>>
[[Continue on this love boat… you have no other choice]]“I love this,” I told her truthfully. “This is possibly the best thing I have witnessed since coming here.”
She turned to me then, her eyes hopeful. “Really?”
It was as if she didn’t even hear me though as she pointed ahead. “Oh! Look! It’s alleycat way.” Sure enough, the next scene was a bridge that stretched over the water. One in which we would head under. Garbage littered it to make it look like an abandoned portion of the Night Market and what I assumed were supposed to be ‘cats’ were curled up in cardboard boxes, sharing a plate of fish together. With their tiny paws, they clinked bottles of milk together, reclining in the warm corners of the alley.
When we dipped under the bridge itself, it was lined with cat themed graffiti.
<<if $cats == "ridiculous">>Turning, I looked at Hazel. The ride of ridiculous. It was clear that it was old and falling apart. A janky old love boat ride with the theme of kitties seemed like the strangest idea I had possibly ever heard. But, she loved it. She was looking around as the cats started to do acrobatics over our boats, flinging themselves across the water and yowling upon their descent. She was laughing like it was the most hysterical thing she had ever seen while simultaneously cooing over the fluffy kitties.
“That one looks like Mr. Billows,” she pointed.
The cat did not. It had a cog for an eye and half its face needed to be repainted. But I just couldn’t burst her bubble. Not when she was clearly having the time of her life.
“Yes it does,” I agreed. “Yes it does.” <<elseif $cats == "adorable">>Turning, I looked at Hazel. The ride was of course old and falling apart, but there was such a charm to the entire thing. Whether it be the off tune yowling that was heard as the cats started doing acrobatics over the river, or the way they were sitting upon fluffy blankets, kneading them softly. It didn’t matter. I didn’t know if it was possible to come on this ride and not smile.
“That one looks like Mr. Billows,” she pointed to a cat at the ledge, dipping his head down to drink from the river.
“It does,” I agreed. Even the fact that it needed a new paint job did not deter from how absolutely adorable it was. <<elseif $cats == "hesitant">>The ride was old and falling apart. There was no way you could argue against that. But, for whatever reason, Hazel was in love. Absolutely in love. Every small detail she pointed out, even when the cats themselves were half hidden beneath a burnt out light. It was clear she had been on this ride dozens of times before and yet it had not once lost its magic for her.
As a cat flung itself over the river though, nearly knocking me in the head, I scooted lower into my seat.
“Look,” she said, pointing excitedly. “That cat looks exactly like Mr. Billows.”
It didn’t. It looked straight out of a horror film. So I only just vaguely nodded at her and chose to watch her reactions to it all instead.<</if>>
[[Continue on this love boat… you have no other choice]]The rest of the ride was an experience to say the least. I didn’t know how far the river flowed, but it took us through the rest of the alleyway, to a quaint and cozy living room where the warm smell of baked cookies filled the damp tunnel. Off to the side, a grandmother rocked in a corner, snoring loudly while two rattling cats sat in her lap.
When the music turned dark, music that I was unaware was even playing until this very moment because it had sounded like disjointed cat purrs, Hazel scooted close.
“Oh no! Heartbreak hairball!” she cried out.
The retching sound came from above and a giant cat face descended from the ceiling, it’s mouth open, a heart shaped hairball on its tongue that it was threatening to spit out. I covered my head, almost certain I was about to get showered in something gross, when the boat dropped about two feet and water splashed gently on each side of us.
From there, there was a field of sunflowers where all the cats we had seen so far held paws, swaying back and forth, yowling only slightly in tune.
It made no sense. None of it. Not even in the slightest.
And yet, Hazel couldn’t be happier.
As we emerged from the tunnel, the lights of the carnival seemed extra bright and had both of us blinking against the onslaught. Up on the shore, near an arching cat shaped bench, Milo sat, hunched forward, cigarette hanging from his lips.
“Milo,” Hazel shouted. “You missed the ride.”
He smirked. “Oh no.”
“We can go again.”
Standing, he reached out to help her out of the rickety boat. Looking down, I noticed there was a bit more water in it from before. A leak was somewhere, hidden beneath the seats.
“Nah,” he said. “That looked like a special moment between you and $name. Besides, there’s such a big line.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw no line. As before, the ticket takers looked bored out of their mind and questioning their own life choices.
“Besides,” Milo was saying, “we need to get you two over to the photo center. Can’t let those cat ears go to waste.”
“Photo center?” I asked.
He grinned at me, a malicious glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah.”
The photo center in question was a giant cut out heart with rainbow-colored cat prints stamped around the frame. We stood in the middle, cat ears in place, while a man with sagging skin and a drooping nose, stood behind an old box that Milo explained was a camera from a time long ago. We were told to stand still. Absolutely still. Or else the photo wouldn’t take. But as Hazel and I posed for our photo, I watched Milo behind the photographer, pawing at the man's broken down cat ears. Next to me, I could feel the giggles from Hazel and the way her body vibrated.
We were told we would get the photo in three to five days.
I was almost certain it was going to be blurry with our barely concealed laughter.
[[Next|Chapter Five H5]]
<<set $tunneloflove to "true">>“Come on,” Milo said, “let’s go win you a cat to go along with those cat ears. Pick one out yet?” We walked a little further into the carnival where Hazel pointed up to the top of a large pole. A striped tabby was lying on top, lording over the district in much the same way Billows did within the shop.
“You sure?” he asked, looking between the prize and the game he would have to play.
“Positive,” she answered.
With a sigh, Milo pulled out a few tickets and stood in line for the game. Beside me, Hazel leaned in close, keeping her words soft and low to keep them from traveling. “He hates this game.”
The game in question was some sort of toss game. Where you took a bead of water and threw it into the small glass bottle opening. The bottles were placed a fair ways away and most of the beads fell short, wetting the ground more than the target itself. We watched Milo’s first attempt, which failed dismally, and cheered him on during his second when he narrowed his eyes and placed his tongue between his lips in some effort of concentration.
“Thank you,” Hazel said as Milo missed yet again.
“For what?”
“Going on that ride with me.”
[[(Diplomatic) It was an experience]]
[[Hazel, I will always go on rides with you]]
[[I actually kind of loved it]]“It was an… experience,” I said slowly. The ride itself was one of the weirdest things I had experienced so far within the Night Market but I couldn’t fault her for the joy that it brought.
She laughed a little, shuffling her feet. “I know it’s hokey. Believe me, I know. But there are just so many things in this world that are serious. Dire. I– I sometimes just want to feel silly again. Like the world isn’t ending and the worst thing about it is an old ride about cats that is falling apart.” Tipping her face up towards me, she looked at me, hopefully. “Does that makes sense?”
Suddenly, the ride had more weight to it than I had thought possible. It was a bright spot. For a girl who was a known recluse, who had lost nearly everything and everyone at some point in her life, this ride remained unchanged.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>I knew then and there I would ride it with her a hundred times if that’s what she wanted.<</if>>\
“No,” I said softly. “I get it. I really do.”
She smiled at me. “I knew you would.”
“Hazel! This damn cat isn’t worth it,” Milo bitched from a few feet away.
“It’s the one I want,” she called out to him. Despite his complaints I could see he was nowhere near giving up. I had a feeling if it took all night, Milo would still be here to win that cat for her. That, or he would steal it.
In the end, it took Milo eighteen times, but he did win the cat, sneering at the man running the booth who had insinuated quite a few times that he should give up.
The cat itself was bigger than Hazel and had azure eyes that were piercing. When he handed it to her, she hugged it lovingly, making sure to create quite the show of how much she appreciated Milo’s efforts. I could see the soft grin on his face and the way he puffed up at her praise. I shook my head. She definitely knew how to handle the man.
As the night began to dim, we played a few more games and Hazel had managed to get Milo to go on the ride with us one last time. The end result was Milo standing on the boat during hairball heartbreak, trying to fight back against the descending cat. He fell into the water and ended up soaked and dragging our now somehow broken boat out of the tunnel. When we stood to take a picture, he made sure to sandwich the two of us in his arms, dripping musky smelling water all over us.
The man behind the camera did not even flinch. He just informed us once more, we would receive the photo in two to five days.
“You sure you don’t want to come dancing?” Milo was asking.
“No,” she said. “I really want to show $name my tree.”
He smiled at her softly before planting a kiss on the crown of her head. “Have fun. Do everything I would do.” Turning, he winked at me, giving a flourish of a bow, before heading back into the festival crowds.
“Come on,” Hazel said, hoisting the cat over her shoulder. “I want to get to the tree before the lights go out.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H6]]
The ride was barely standing, and I wasn’t sure how many years it had been in operation, but it looked older than the market itself. With cat ears still perched firmly on my head, I hoped that this was not the last time I would go on a ride with Hazel. Whether I enjoyed it didn’t matter. Watching her was the best part of the experience.
“Hazel, I will always go on rides with you. You only need to ask.”
She grinned at that, swaying back and forth a bit. “Thank you, $name. That means a lot to me.”
“Hazel! This damn cat isn’t worth it,” Milo bitched from a few feet away.
“It’s the one I want,” she called out to him. Despite his complaints I could see he was nowhere near giving up. I had a feeling if it took all night, Milo would still be here to win that cat for her. That, or he would steal it.
In the end, it took Milo eighteen times, but he did win the cat, sneering at the man running the booth who had insinuated quite a few times that he should give up.
The cat itself was bigger than Hazel and had azure eyes that were piercing. When he handed it to her, she hugged it lovingly, making sure to create quite the show of how much she appreciated Milo’s efforts. I could see the soft grin on his face and the way he puffed up at her praise. I shook my head. She definitely knew how to handle the man.
As the night began to dim, we played a few more games and Hazel had managed to get Milo to go on the ride with us one last time. The end result was Milo standing on the boat during hairball heartbreak, trying to fight back against the descending cat. He fell into the water and ended up soaked and dragging our now somehow broken boat out of the tunnel. When we stood to take a picture, he made sure to sandwich the two of us in his arms, dripping musky smelling water all over us.
The man behind the camera did not even flinch. He just informed us once more, we would receive the photo in two to five days.
“You sure you don’t want to come dancing?” Milo was asking.
“No,” she said. “I really want to show $name my tree.”
He smiled at her softly before planting a kiss on the crown of her head. “Have fun. Do everything I would do.” Turning, he winked at me, giving a flourish of a bow, before heading back into the festival crowds.
“Come on,” Hazel said, hoisting the cat over her shoulder. “I want to get to the tree before the lights go out.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H6]]
“I kind of loved it, actually.” There was something so charming about the old wooden cuts outs and the deteriorating robots. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but the entire thing had been delightful from start to finish. Seeing Hazel’s delight over each familiar bend and turn had only been the icing on the entire experience.
“Really?” she looked beyond excited at the prospect of me enjoying it just as much as her. “Do you really mean it?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you about that,” I told her.
“Hazel! This damn cat isn’t worth it,” Milo bitched from a few feet away.
“It’s the one I want,” she called out to him. Despite his complaints I could see he was nowhere near giving up. I had a feeling if it took all night, Milo would still be here to win that cat for her. That, or he would steal it.
In the end, it took Milo eighteen times, but he did win the cat, sneering at the man running the booth who had insinuated quite a few times that he should give up.
The cat itself was bigger than Hazel and had azure eyes that were piercing. When he handed it to her, she hugged it lovingly, making sure to create quite the show of how much she appreciated Milo’s efforts. I could see the soft grin on his face and the way he puffed up at her praise. I shook my head. She definitely knew how to handle the man.
As the night began to dim, we played a few more games and Hazel had managed to get Milo to go on the ride with us one last time. The end result was Milo standing on the boat during hairball heartbreak, trying to fight back against the descending cat. He fell into the water and ended up soaked and dragging our now somehow broken boat out of the tunnel. When we stood to take a picture, he made sure to sandwich the two of us in his arms, dripping musky smelling water all over us.
The man behind the camera did not even flinch. He just informed us once more, we would receive the photo in two to five days.
“You sure you don’t want to come dancing?” Milo was asking.
“No,” she said. “I really want to show $name my tree.”
He smiled at her softly before planting a kiss on the crown of her head. “Have fun. Do everything I would do.” Turning, he winked at me, giving a flourish of a bow, before heading back into the festival crowds.
“Come on,” Hazel said, hoisting the cat over her shoulder. “I want to get to the tree before the lights go out.”
[[Next|Chapter Five H6]]
The tree in question was a giant cheery tree with fluttering pink butterfly petals. It stood on its own, enclosed in a small stone garden past the silk district. There was no direct way to get to it and Hazel had to show me the proper footholds to scale the wall and hop over to where its massive trunk was rooted. The ground beneath was uneven from where the roots had split the earth but the area itself smelled divine. Like a grove of wildflowers that had baked in the sun all afternoon.
“I’ll teach you how to climb it,” she told me. Taking her cat winnings, she tucked them at the bottom of the tree. With no entrance or exit, it was doubtful anyone would be able to take it. From where I stood, there were a few little trinkets around the base of the tree. They looked to be offerings of some sort.
“Did you put those out?” I asked.
She looked down at where I had gestured, her own foot already planted against the trunk, her hands curled around the lowest branch that was offered. “Some of them. Others appear. It's a messenger tree. Oftentimes, the people who are motivated enough, come here to offer their loved ones final goodbyes. It’s the only way the dead can hear us before they become a manifestation within the market. And even then…” she trailed off. I was coming to understand that not all manifestations within the market remembered who they were.
Hoisting herself up on a branch, she looked down at me. “Okay, just try to follow me,” she said. “Keep your feet near where I put mine, and you should be good. I’ve climbed this tree dozens of times and have only fallen once and that was because Milo and I had too much to drink.”
[[You are a good climber]]
[[You are a bad climber]]I followed her up the tree with ease, grabbing each branch and hoisting myself upwards to keep pace with her. While she was still faster than me, having already known the way to the top, I didn’t once feel as if I was falling behind.
Silently, a good climber was something I logged in the back of my memory. Perhaps it was a part of my old life.
I made it to the top with ease, only slightly out of breath. As I perched upon the thick branch with Hazel, I looked outwards, my breath catching in my throat.
Through the pale pink petals clinging to the trees, you could see the entirety of the market. It stretched out further than I had ever imagined, dipping through soft hills that my feet never noticed before. The lanterns hung over each district, casting them in a patchwork light while the alleyways that connected them all were nothing more than a dim glow. But up above, where the paper moon hung heavy in the sky, I saw only blackness. A large expanse of void that was pressing down on the world below, while the lamplight, fought back.
“I used to sit up here when I was a little girl,” Hazel said softly. “I was small for my age, and so I didn’t feel comfortable among all the people during the festival. But I still wanted to see the lights go out. So, I used to climb this tree. I imagined you could see the entirety of the market from here.”
There was little doubt that to the naive mind of a girl, the thought felt anything but true. The alleyways below wove like cracks through a painting, creating entirely new avenues that I had yet to explore. I imagined the walls at the very precipice of the market, building upwards and out to create more room for whatever gate was going to open next. I imagined the flagstone piling on top of each other, stacking to create the familiar walkways, before bursting out into an expanse of land waiting to be filled. It was sad that something so beautiful, so extraordinary, was slowly killing the world.
[[Did it always look like this?]]
[[Everything is so beautiful. It gives me hope]]
[[The weight of what we have to do feels haunting now]]
<<set $climb to "good">>I slipped twice before I could make it up to the first branch, and then three more times after that. With each limb that Hazel cleared, she waited for me, offering me encouragement when I couldn’t seem to get my footing right, and also pulling me up with a surprisingly strong grip. All I could think, each time I almost fell back down to the root bound floor, was that I was obviously not a climber in my previous life. Not even a little bit.
It was a struggle to reach the top, but I made it all the same, practically draping myself across the large tree limb and panting in relief. The view, however, the view absolutely caught my breath.
Through the pale pink petals clinging to the trees, you could see the entirety of the market. It stretched out further than I had ever imagined, dipping through soft hills that my feet never noticed before. The lanterns hung over each district, casting them in a patchwork light while the alleyways that connected them all were nothing more than a dim glow. But up above, where the paper moon hung heavy in the sky, I saw only blackness. A large expanse of void that was pressing down on the world below, while the lamplight, fought back.
“I used to sit up here when I was a little girl,” Hazel said softly. “I was small for my age, and so I didn’t feel comfortable among all the people during the festival. But I still wanted to see the lights go out. So, I used to climb this tree. I imagined you could see the entirety of the market from here.”
There was little doubt that to the naive mind of a girl, the thought felt anything but true. The alleyways below wove like cracks through a painting, creating entirely new avenues that I had yet to explore. I imagined the walls at the very precipice of the market, building upwards and out to create more room for whatever gate was going to open next. I imagined the flagstone piling on top of each other, stacking to create the familiar walkways, before bursting out into an expanse of land waiting to be filled. It was sad that something so beautiful, so extraordinary, was slowly killing the world.
[[Did it always look like this?]]
[[Everything is so beautiful. It gives me hope]]
[[The weight of what we have to do feels haunting now]]
<<set $climb to "bad">>“Was it always like this?” I asked. “Did it always look so massive?” I wondered how different it all had been when she was younger. When her, Milo and Malcolm were running the streets. Were the lights as bright. Did it seem to sprawl endlessly through the dark? Did the lantern colors change along with the forgotten districts.
Hazel hummed. “It’s always looked big to me. But I was also a lot smaller. I don’t know. Little things change. Where a district is located. How far something stretches. When new districts create things get a little more smooshed from up here. I remember it being roomier, if that makes sense.”
I shook my head. “This place and its magic is truly incredible.”
“The Night Market is special,” she told me softly. “It is not always good. But it is not always bad. I also don’t know how much of a moral compass I can really have on the entirety of the world itself,” she frowned. “But I do know it is home. And I want it saved. If only for nights like this.”<<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching out, she took my hand.<</if>>
The various colors of lamps were all dim now, taking on a sickly grey tone with only splashed of muted color. I could hear the people below getting louder and louder. The beat of some distant music began to swell in a rhythm that shook the lanterns, bouncing the last of its light to and fro. It was as if the market itself was combating the dark with stomping feet and raucous voices.
“Won’t be long now,” Hazel whispered.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Take her in your arms]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[(flirt) Put your arm around her]]<</if>>
[[Watch the lights go out together]]
[[Ask if she is scared]]I had very little memory to compare it to, but I felt as if what I was observing was possibly the prettiest sight I had ever seen. Despite the flaws of the market, there was a raw beauty here. One that was created from life and love and people going about their day, trying their hardest to continue on with the task at hand. Even the market itself was fighting, in its own, small way. It gave me hope. In a way, I didn’t feel alone in our plight during this moment.
“It’s beautiful up here,” I told her softly. “I’m glad that you took me.”
“The Night Market is special,” she told me softly. “It is not always good. But it is not always bad. I also don’t know how much of a moral compass I can really have on the entirety of the world itself,” she frowned. “But I do know it is home. And I want it saved. If only for nights like this.”<<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching out, she took my hand.<</if>>
The various colors of lamps were all dim now, taking on a sickly grey tone with only splashed of muted color. I could hear the people below getting louder and louder. The beat of some distant music began to swell in a rhythm that shook the lanterns, bouncing the last of its light to and fro. It was as if the market itself was combating the dark with stomping feet and raucous voices.
“Won’t be long now,” Hazel whispered.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Take her in your arms]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[(flirt) Put your arm around her]]<</if>>
[[Watch the lights go out together]]
[[Ask if she is scared]]“Seeing this, all of this, just makes it all the more real.” <<if $chapterfour == "ruins">>Between this and the ruins the other night, I was coming to realize that this world was far more expansive than I had originally given it credit for. If it died, so many would perish. So much of what made this place truly special, would be lost and forgotten. The market itself was hidden. No one would know any better if it one day just up and disappeared. <<elseif $chapterfour == "gates">> Between this and the gates I had seen the other night, I was coming to realize that this world was far more expansive than I had originally given it credit for. If it died, so many would perish. So much of what made this place truly special, would be lost and forgotten. The market itself was hidden. No one would know any better if it one day just up and disappeared.<</if>>
“The Night Market is special,” she told me softly. “It is not always good. But it is not always bad. I also don’t know how much of a moral compass I can really have on the entirety of the world itself,” she frowned. “But I do know it is home. And I want it saved. If only for nights like this.”<<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching out, she took my hand.<</if>>
The various colors of lamps were all dim now, taking on a sickly grey tone with only splashed of muted color. I could hear the people below getting louder and louder. The beat of some distant music began to swell in a rhythm that shook the lanterns, bouncing the last of its light to and fro. It was as if the market itself was combating the dark with stomping feet and raucous voices.
“Won’t be long now,” Hazel whispered.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Take her in your arms]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[(flirt) Put your arm around her]]<</if>>
[[Watch the lights go out together]]
[[Ask if she is scared]]
Leaning forward, I took her in my arms, the two of us falling back against the thick trunk. She fit against my side almost perfectly, and I could feel the smile against my shoulder as she turned her face inwards to rub it against the sleeve of my top.
“Is this okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” she squeaked.
I rolled my lips into my mouth, feeling the heated cheek that was pressed against me. “Have I told you how much I enjoy that?”
“Making my heart leap out of my chest?” she asked. “No. I don’t think you have.”
“No,” I laughed. “When your cheeks turn rosy. I like knowing I was the one to do it.”
She cleared her throat. “I like knowing you were the one to do it too.”
“Did you come here with your brother?” I asked.
She snorted. “For a bit. When we were really little. But after him and Milo got together?” she let out a low whistle. “Those two were inseparable. Up until the point that they weren’t.”
“They were together?” It was a new bit of information and one that suddenly made Milo’s attitude make a lot more sense the other day in the shop.
“Off and on,” Hazel said. “They were pitted on opposite jobs. Milo was desperate to leave this world and took one that granted him a lot of coin. When push came to shove, it was between the money and Malcolm in order to complete the contract. Malcolm told Milo to stab him. Take the money and actually leave. Find his family again. And Milo did.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Malcolm wasn’t hurt. Not truly. It was a quick enough patch. But they were over after that. Right until everything went down with the last Gatekeeper. I think they were starting to… I don’t know. You could never quite tell with those two.”
Frowning, Hazel wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. You asked if Malcolm ever came to this tree with me. You probably weren’t looking for the saga of my brother.”
“It’s alright,” I told her. “It sounds like maybe it’s a saga you need to get off your chest. You haven’t had anyone to talk to about it, have you?”
She shook her head. “When it comes to Malcolm, Milo was the only one I really could talk to. But after he passed… it just got complicated. I tried for a while but the hurt that was in his eyes each time I mentioned his name got to be too much. Milo is different from me. I think he just wanted to forget.”
“Whereas you need to remember in order to get him back.”
“Exactly. The stronger my memories are of him, the more likely he’ll have something to cling to in order to find his way home.”
[[Have you ever come close to finding him?]]
[[The last ten years have sounded so lonely for you]]
[[Let’s not talk about sad things anymore]]Taking the chance, I reached out to wrap my arm around her shoulder. I did it slowly, giving her ample time to move away if it was something she didn’t want. But she met me halfway, tucking herself close to me. Though her eyes remained firmly glued forward, and her shoulders a bit stiff, she was not pulling away.
“Is this okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” she squeaked. I grinned internally. I didn’t know what this would mean for us tomorrow, but I didn’t care. Overall, I was excited to find out.
“Did you come here with your brother?” I asked.
She snorted. “For a bit. When we were really little. But after him and Milo got together?” she let out a low whistle. “Those two were inseparable. Up until the point that they weren’t.”
“They were together?” It was a new bit of information and one that suddenly made Milo’s attitude make a lot more sense the other day in the shop.
“Off and on,” Hazel said. “They were pitted on opposite jobs. Milo was desperate to leave this world and took one that granted him a lot of coin. When push came to shove, it was between the money and Malcolm in order to complete the contract. Malcolm told Milo to stab him. Take the money and actually leave. Find his family again. And Milo did.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Malcolm wasn’t hurt. Not truly. It was a quick enough patch. But they were over after that. Right until everything went down with the last Gatekeeper. I think they were starting to… I don’t know. You could never quite tell with those two.”
Frowning, Hazel wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. You asked if Malcolm ever came to this tree with me. You probably weren’t looking for the saga of my brother.”
“It’s alright,” I told her. “It sounds like maybe it’s a saga you need to get off your chest. You haven’t had anyone to talk to about it, have you?”
She shook her head. “When it comes to Malcolm, Milo was the only one I really could talk to. But after he passed… it just got complicated. I tried for a while but the hurt that was in his eyes each time I mentioned his name got to be too much. Milo is different from me. I think he just wanted to forget.”
“Whereas you need to remember in order to get him back.”
“Exactly. The stronger my memories are of him, the more likely he’ll have something to cling to in order to find his way home.”
[[Have you ever come close to finding him?]]
[[The last ten years have sounded so lonely for you]]
[[Let’s not talk about sad things anymore]]We sat in compatible silence together for a long moment, watching as the lanterns slowly dimmed. I wondered where everyone else was tonight. What kind of trouble Milo was getting up to. If Gabriel was wrongfully arresting someone. Or if Belladonna was watching this all high above like Hazel and I were, sipping wine, dripping in finery. The likes of those four all sitting in a room together seemed low at best, and yet we had already done it. I wondered what it would end up taking to get them all to spend an evening like this with each other.
Sighing, I tipped my head back, letting the night air cool my cheeks. I wondered how long it had been since Hazel had sat here with anyone else. If she was alone most years or if she did bring someone up here occasionally.
“Did you come here with your brother?” I asked.
She snorted. “For a bit. When we were really little. But after him and Milo got together?” she let out a low whistle. “Those two were inseparable. Up until the point that they weren’t.”
“They were together?” It was a new bit of information and one that suddenly made Milo’s attitude make a lot more sense the other day in the shop.
“Off and on,” Hazel said. “They were pitted on opposite jobs. Milo was desperate to leave this world and took one that granted him a lot of coin. When push came to shove, it was between the money and Malcolm in order to complete the contract. Malcolm told Milo to stab him. Take the money and actually leave. Find his family again. And Milo did.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Malcolm wasn’t hurt. Not truly. It was a quick enough patch. But they were over after that. Right until everything went down with the last Gatekeeper. I think they were starting to… I don’t know. You could never quite tell with those two.”
Frowning, Hazel wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. You asked if Malcolm ever came to this tree with me. You probably weren’t looking for the saga of my brother.”
“It’s alright,” I told her. “It sounds like maybe it’s a saga you need to get off your chest. You haven’t had anyone to talk to about it, have you?”
She shook her head. “When it comes to Malcolm, Milo was the only one I really could talk to. But after he passed… it just got complicated. I tried for a while but the hurt that was in his eyes each time I mentioned his name got to be too much. Milo is different from me. I think he just wanted to forget.”
“Whereas you need to remember in order to get him back.”
“Exactly. The stronger my memories are of him, the more likely he’ll have something to cling to in order to find his way home.”
[[Have you ever come close to finding him?]]
[[The last ten years have sounded so lonely for you]]
[[Let’s not talk about sad things anymore]]Staring out over the storm of dotted lights, I felt my gut twist unexpectedly. Everything could end. There might not be enough time to contact the Barons. Or even attempt to enlist anyone's help. Tonight, the lights could go out and the magic of the Night Market could be far too depleted to bring them back on again.
“Are you scared?” I found myself asking, my lips chapped and my voice shaky.
Hazel continued to stare forward. “I believe the market will provide,” she said. “It just has to.”
It was the same belief I knew she had for her brother's return. Hazel believed in magic. She lived and breathed its promise. I hoped for her sake it never failed her.
“Did you come here with your brother?” I asked.
She snorted. “For a bit. When we were really little. But after him and Milo got together?” she let out a low whistle. “Those two were inseparable. Up until the point that they weren’t.”
“They were together?” It was a new bit of information and one that suddenly made Milo’s attitude make a lot more sense the other day in the shop.
“Off and on,” Hazel said. “They were pitted on opposite jobs. Milo was desperate to leave this world and took one that granted him a lot of coin. When push came to shove, it was between the money and Malcolm in order to complete the contract. Malcolm told Milo to stab him. Take the money and actually leave. Find his family again. And Milo did.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Malcolm wasn’t hurt. Not truly. It was a quick enough patch. But they were over after that. Right until everything went down with the last Gatekeeper. I think they were starting to… I don’t know. You could never quite tell with those two.”
Frowning, Hazel wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. You asked if Malcolm ever came to this tree with me. You probably weren’t looking for the saga of my brother.”
“It’s alright,” I told her. “It sounds like maybe it’s a saga you need to get off your chest. You haven’t had anyone to talk to about it, have you?”
She shook her head. “When it comes to Malcolm, Milo was the only one I really could talk to. But after he passed… it just got complicated. I tried for a while but the hurt that was in his eyes each time I mentioned his name got to be too much. Milo is different from me. I think he just wanted to forget.”
“Whereas you need to remember in order to get him back.”
“Exactly. The stronger my memories are of him, the more likely he’ll have something to cling to in order to find his way home.”
[[Have you ever come close to finding him?]]
[[The last ten years have sounded so lonely for you]]
[[Let’s not talk about sad things anymore]]“Have you ever come close?” I asked. “To finding him or thinking that he was back in this world.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">>She stayed quiet for a moment, fingers fiddling with the bandage on her palm. I could see where it was soaked through with a bit of blood from the climb. The cut must have been deeper than she let on. “I’ve tried a few things. They all failed.” The frown that was upon her was one that was born of the deepest frustration. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“I could help you,” I told her. I wanted to see her happy.
Help looked as if it were a foreign concept to a woman like Hazel. She took Milo’s help without question simply because he had always been around. But I had never seen her accept help from others. I had never seen her even ask for it. She stayed far away from anyone, afraid that she might be looked at as weak or unkind. I desperately wanted her to trust me enough not to worry any longer.
“I- I don’t really know how to ask,” she confided.
“You just tell me what to do and I’ll be there.”
Turning, she looked at me through the thick of her lashes, her eyes bordering on a sage green tonight. She nodded her head, though pressed it no further. I figured, however, it was more progress than I had received before.
<<elseif $relationship == "false">> She shook her head. “I thought I had. A time or two. But, it turned out to be nothing. The magic of the Night Market is complicated and I don’t think I fully understand it. But he’ll come home. Malcolm promised he would come home to me. To us. He was never one to break his promise.”
Her words felt fake. Like there was something hidden within. I wanted her to know however that I was her friend. That I would be there for her if she needed it. “If there is a way I can help…”
“Thank you,” she said quickly. “But you are already doing so much. Believe me. I am forever grateful for what you are giving to all of us now. Seeing the Baron’s and risking your life when you don’t have to is far beyond what should be expected of you.”
“I don’t mind,” I told her.
She grinned. “Because you’re a good person. And good people just do good things.”<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Five H7]]
“The last ten years have sounded so lonely for you,” I told her. Except for Milo, I saw no one come and go from the shop. No one come visit her. No letters or packages received from family or friends. Mr. Billows was her true, day to day companion, and I was sure she got along with the other people she had employed, but in the end, Hazel was alone.
“I’ve always been a bit of a loner,” she said, ducking her head. “It’s easier that way.”
“Easier how?” If this was a choice by design, then I guess it could make sense but after tonight, it was clear to me just how fun Hazel could be. How much she thrived on being around others. The thought of her alone in that shop, day after day, filled me with such grief.
“When you are the daughter of a bog witch, and dubbed one yourself, people look at you differently. From there, you can either disappoint them and not be who they want you to be, or, be exactly who they thought you were which is equally bad. I just never knew how to act in a social setting. Couldn’t figure out what to say, where to put my hands, how to be funny or not awkward.” She shrugged. “So I gave up. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do but it’s how I have functioned.”
I understood. While my heart ached for her loneliness, I still understood.
“I haven’t made you feel uncomfortable, have I?”
With wide eyes, she whipped her gaze towards mine. “Oh, $name. No. Goodness no. You are my favorite part of the day. I am so happy you have come work for me. I honestly don’t know where I would be without you. Having someone stoke the fire in the morning has meant more to me than you’ll ever know and not once have I ever felt like I couldn’t be me in our conversations.”
I let out a breath that I didn’t know I had been holding. The last thing I had ever wanted was to make Hazel uncomfortable. Not after everything she had done for me.
[[Next|Chapter Five H7]]
“Let's not talk about sad moments. Today has been surprisingly good. We got our first bit of power from a Baron. I was not attacked or taken hostage during that time–”
“Oh, we would never allow something like that to happen.”
“And, we got to go on a catboat ride of love.” No matter how long I lived, no matter if my memories were erased again, I didn’t think it was possible for me to forget that ride.
Next to me, Hazel giggled. Our cat ears were down by the stuffed animal below. I would have to search the common area back home and see just how many more were hiding there. Oddly enough, I was looking forward to seeing the pictures when they did come in.
“Milo will probably make fun of you for years if you say anything nice about that ride,” Hazel said, kicking her feet back and forth.
“Let him.” Though, I highly doubted Milo would say anything negative if he knew how much it made Hazel happy.
[[Next|Chapter Five H7]]
I could see the moment before it happened. The pulse of the market itself began to thrum in one steady stomp, sending the lanterns vibrating and the people in the nearby districts, looking up in anticipation. While eyes were cast upwards towards the lanterns above, Hazel and I turned our gazes below. Next to me, her breath caught in her throat, taking a suspended moment and holding it in her lungs.
Blinking, and the world went dark.
I felt my breath violently pulled inside my lungs until my chest ached, and my stomach felt like it dropped beneath me. I could no longer feel the tree or Hazel. I couldn’t feel the night air. Hear the thrum that had sounded across the market for most of the night. For one terrifying moment, there was nothing. Absolute nothingness that I was now lost within. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I felt as if my mind were being torn in two and that my body was going to be lost to the nothingness forever. That it had never existed in the first place.
And then a hand was wrapped in mine.
Warmth bloomed in my chest and the lanterns burst to life once more. They were higher now, hanging in the boughs of the tree we sat in and strung across the market in perfect starlight. I blinked, feeling my heart hammering against my ribs. Hazel’s hand was warm against my cool skin and I looked at her, panic on my face.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? I meant to tell you. I really did.”
“Tell me?” The world felt tilted on its side and I was certain I was going to slide off the branch we were perched on and tumble into that black nothing that I had felt swallow me whole.
“Milo says that the magic affects people. Sometimes adversely. I was supposed to explain it to you… I don’t feel it. Being born here I’ve never felt it. Oh, $name. I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Do you need water? I can go get you some food. I just knew I shouldn’t have brought you up into a tree. You could have fallen.” Hazel’s panic was a constant babble in my ear and I clung to it. It was normal and somehow, caused my heart to begin to calm.
“I’m okay,” I told her. Though my voice was incredibly shaky. “I’m okay. Just– wasn’t expecting that. That’s all.”
“Maybe I should go get Milo to help you down.”
Turning to her, she was biting her lip, her eyes wide in fear. I wasn’t sure what expression was shown on my face but I tried to calm it. Even out any sort of wrinkles it might have. Give her an encouraging smile.
[[I’m alright. It was just a shock]]
[[I’m alright. I don’t want to experience that again though]]
[[I’m alright. It was kind of neat]]
“I’m alright,” I assured her. “It was just a bit of a shock. I knew that magic was going to light the lanterns again. I guess I just didn’t realize how they would be doing it.”
Hazel blinked at me. “What do you mean?”
“I felt it go through me,” I said. “It felt like a shot at first and then I was falling. I didn’t know what was happening. Next year, I will.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">>“Next year?” she asked, hopefully. I could see the real question lingering in her eyes.
<<elseif $relationship == "false">> “Next year?” she asked.<</if>>
[[I plan to be around]]
[[If I’m around]]
[[I don’t care where I am, I’ll come back for this]]“I’m alright,” I assured her. “Though, I don’t know if I ever want to experience that again.”
“You felt it?” she asked. Her voice was eager with the question while still managing to sound concerned.
“I did. It felt like a shot. The breath was sucked from me and I was falling into nothing.” It had been terrifying and I couldn’t imagine the panic that swarmed the market if more than one person went through this. If what Hazel was saying was true, and this was a side effect of this night, I didn’t know if I would be out celebrating.
That wasn’t something I was going to tell Hazel though. Not now. “I’ll know better for next year,” I told her.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>“Next year?” she asked, hopefully. I could see the real question lingering in her eyes.
<<elseif $relationship == "false">> “Next year?” she asked.<</if>>
[[I plan to be around]]
[[If I’m around]]
[[I don’t care where I am, I’ll come back for this]]“I’m alright,” I assured her. “It was actually kind of neat. After the innate fear and confusion that is.” I laughed a little, feeling slightly exhilarated with what had just happened. I had known that the magic would thread through the market but I had no idea it would feel like that.
“You felt it?” Hazel asked hesitantly, though still eager for what I had gone through.
“I did. It felt like a shot and then I was falling. But when you reached out and grabbed my hand I felt warm and sucked back in. Like I said, not bad. Kind of cool, actually. And next year, I’ll know what is happening.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">>“Next year?” she asked, hopefully. I could see the real question lingering in her eyes.
<<elseif $relationship == "false">> “Next year?” she asked.<</if>>
[[I plan to be around]]
[[If I’m around]]
[[I don’t care where I am, I’ll come back for this]]
A year could change so much. Would the Night Market still be here? Would we still be gathering the Barons powers, or would we have succeeded by then? Or, would we have failed so dismally that we were taking comfort in the little things we could, waiting for the day that the tears became too big. The Gatekeeper, hidden away somewhere, the Barons wondering what had gone wrong, and all of us, having tried and failed.
I pushed the thoughts away, trying my hardest not to let the fear of the future consume me. It was with sudden clarity however, that I knew one thing to be blindingly true. No matter what happened, or what became of the Night Market or our course with the Barons, I would be here. Next year, I would be here.
Turning to Hazel, I nodded at her, answering her question. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said softly. “Next year, I’ll be here again, riding that ride with you, sitting in this tree.”
<<if $relationship == "false">>Hazel looked at me, her expression raw and pleading. “Promise?”
Reaching out, I place my hand warmly on hers. “Promise.”
And I knew right then, not even death would keep me from that vow. <<elseif $hazelro == "true">>Hazel looked at me, her expression raw and pleading. “Promise?”
Leaning forward, I cupped her cheeks within the palms of my hands. Softly, I pressed my lips to hers, feeling her fingers curl against my knees. Her lips were cool against my own and tasted like the chlorine from the boat ride. When I pulled back, I made sure not to go far, running my thumbs across her cheeks.
“Promise,” I whispered.
And I knew right then, not even death would keep me from that vow.<</if>>
[[Chapter Six]]Would I still be here in a year? It had never been my intention. Once we had figured out what was happening, why I was even here to begin with, I had a life to go home to. I didn’t plan to stick around here when this was all done. I had been stolen away and I owed the people in my life before the knowledge that I was alive.
But it did mean that the people I learned to care for here, I would possibly never see again.
I pushed the thoughts away, trying my hardest not to let the fear of the future consume me. Because we had here and now. We had this beautiful pink tree and a new set of lights that fluttered above, lit anew. Bright and beautiful. Below, there was celebration. Couples, friends, lovers, and families. All wandering the streets. Throwing their hands in the air because they were no longer in danger of hitting the lantern strings. They were dancing. They were singing. They were living their live and for that tonight, they had no worries.
“We’ll see what happens in a year,” I told her, not quite sure how I was supposed to tell her I didn’t plan to be around. Not quite sure how I felt about potentially not seeing her again.
“A year is a long time,” she agreed.
“A very long time.”
“And maybe,” I could hear her swallow thickly. “We should just enjoy the time we have and not think about it too much. So much could happen between now and then.”
<<if $relationship == "false">> I knew she was saying it to give me an out, and at that moment, I took it. I didn’t want to be sad tonight. I only wanted to sit in this tree with her and enjoy the moment.
“I think that’s a perfect way to look at it,” I told her.
And as we both looked out over the lanterns, I hoped that I still believed that in the upcoming year. <<elseif $hazelro == "true">>Reaching out, I took her hand in mine and squeezed it as hard as I dared to. I knew she was giving me an out, and I was unsure what it said about me that I was willing to take it. I just didn’t want to be sad in this moment. I wanted to remember her as she was now. Beautiful and lit by the backdrop of fluttering pink petals.
“We enjoy the time we have,” I repeated.
Holding her hand, the two of us looked out over the market. I wondered just how much it would hurt when the day came that I had to go.<</if>>
[[Chapter Six]]Would I still be here in a year? Would the Night Market? Would we still be gathering the Baron’s powers, or would we have succeeded by then? Or, would we have failed so dismally that we were taking comfort in the little things we could, waiting for the day that the tears became too big. The Gatekeeper, hidden away somewhere, the Barons wondering what had gone wrong, and all of us, having tried and failed.
I pushed the thoughts away, trying my hardest not to let the fear of the future consume me. Because we had here and now. We had this beautiful pink tree and a new set of lights that fluttered above, lit anew. Bright and beautiful. Below, there was celebration. Couples, friends, lovers, and families. All wandering the streets. Throwing their hands in the air because they were no longer in danger of hitting the lantern strings. They were dancing. They were singing. They were living their live and for that tonight, they had no worries.
Turning to Hazel, I nodded at her, answering her question. “I don’t care where I am, what I am doing, I’ll come back for this. Every year, I’ll be here again, riding that ride with you, sitting in this tree.”
<<if $relationship == "false">>Hazel looked at me, her expression raw and pleading. “Promise?”
Reaching out, I place my hand warmly on hers. “Promise.”
And I knew right then, not even death would keep me from that vow. <<elseif $hazelro == "true">>Hazel looked at me, her expression raw and pleading. “Promise?”
Leaning forward, I cupped her cheeks within the palms of my hands. Softly, I pressed my lips to hers, feeling her fingers curl against my knees. Her lips were cool against my own and tasted like the chlorine from the boat ride. When I pulled back, I made sure not to go far, running my thumbs across her cheeks.
“Promise,” I whispered.
And I knew right then, not even death would keep me from that vow.<</if>>
[[Chapter Six]]I wanted to wander the market alone. If I was going to live here for any long period of time, I needed to learn the streets. I wanted to be able to wander the world with confidence. While Belladonna’s suggestion had been to lie low, I still needed new clothes. I needed to not hide within these walls, waiting for someone to take my hand.
“Could you give me directions?” I asked Hazel. “I actually would kind of like to go alone.”
As someone who rarely left the shop, I could see her eyes go wide. “Are you sure? The Night Market is big. Getting bigger every day. Are you ready for that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready unless I start to try.”
She looked hesitant. As if she were looking for reasons not to let me go. Hazel was pragmatic enough to understand that her fears were not mine and in the end, could only nod. “Just bring your papers,” she said, her eyes ticking down to the black bands on my wrist.
I would bring my papers. I would bring coin. I would bring whatever it was that I needed to bring to keep myself safe within these alleys.
Going behind the counter, Hazel drew me a map, writing down directions to get to the district.
“Don’t let anyone take advantage of you,” she instructed me. “Stay away from the stalls that have the gold trim that is too shiny. Gold is not as shiny as they make it seem and that is an indicator that they are weaving spell work within their clothes, using cheap fabric and making it seem expensive.”
I nodded at her, amused at the way she suddenly was so protective.
“And do not go into the alleys that are not lit,” she said. “If there are no lanterns, you don’t need to be there.”
[[No dark alleys. Got it]]
[[Reach out and clasp her hand. I'll be okay]]
[[Who knew fashion could be so dangerous]]“No dark alleys,” I said with a nod. “Got it.”
Her lips twisted into a frown. “I mean it, $name. You need to be careful. I love this place. I love this world. But if you don’t know it, it can be dangerous.”
The black stains around my wrist were evident enough of that. The writhing mass of limbs that were entwined within the pit on the beach had been my first impression of the market. The dangers that were around me loomed at each corner. I just couldn’t allow it to control me.
“I’ll be careful,” I told her. “I just want to go get some clothes that do not look and feel like this.”
Hazel nodded. “No. I understand. I really do.” She tried to give me a brave smile. “And the Fashion District is very pretty. I think it’ll be fun for you.”
“It’ll be something,” I told her, keeping my expectations low.
Tucking the map in my pocket, along with the pouch of coins. Hazel shifted near me but didn’t reach out to stop me. I wondered how much strength it took her not to lock the door.
“I’ll be back tonight,” I told her, giving her an encouraging smile.
Leaning down, she picked up Mr. Billows, cuddling him close. “I’ll be here.”
[[Next|Chapter Four FP]]
Reaching out, I clasped her hand in mine. I could see the hesitation in her eyes. In the way she twitched. The world of silks and cotton were threatening to swallow me whole, according to her. I just wanted to reassure her that I would be safe.
“I’ll be okay,” I told her. “I’m not going to take any sort of unnecessary risks. I’m not going to run off down a random alley. I will be back tonight.”
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and gathering herself. “I’m sorry. Of course. I’m overreacting and being silly. You’re your own person and should get used to the market more.” Her words were more for herself than for me, I thought. There was far more wrapped up in her not leaving the apothecary that much than I had originally considered.
Tucking the map in my pocket, along with the pouch of coins. Hazel shifted near me but didn’t reach out to stop me. I wondered how much strength it took her not to lock the door.
“I’ll be back tonight,” I told her, giving her an encouraging smile.
Leaning down, she picked up Mr. Billows, cuddling him close. “I’ll be here.”
[[Next|Chapter Four FP]]
Hazel was preparing me for the worst. The world of silks and cotton threatening to swallow me whole. “Who knew fashion could be so dangerous,” I told her with a small smile. Her frown said she was not as amused.
“I worry,” she told me.
“I know.” That much was clear. “But, I need to learn the market. If I’m not back by tonight, you can send the wisps after me.”
“I’ll be sending the guard.”
I thought of those velvet coats searching through the alley for me. Dragging me back once more. “Please don’t.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh, I– Oh. Insert foot in mouth, Hazel. Good.” She shook her head, mentally berating herself.
“It’s fine. They just aren’t my favorite,” I told her. If I never saw a velvet coat again, I would be happy. Looking down at the way my wrists were stained, I couldn’t say I really wanted to see a particular midnight blue coat either.
Tucking the map in my pocket, along with the pouch of coins. Hazel shifted near me but didn’t reach out to stop me. I wondered how much strength it took her not to lock the door.
“I’ll be back tonight,” I told her, giving her an encouraging smile.
Leaning down, she picked up Mr. Billows, cuddling him close. “I’ll be here.”
[[Next|Chapter Four FP]]
Stepping out of the apothecary, I made my way through the alley as quickly as I could. The spirits had been restless the night before but thankfully seemed to pay me no mind this morning. I hadn’t figured out yet what riled them. Milo had mentioned that they were much more ill at ease the closer to big events that we got, but Hazel had insinuated that there was no rhyme or reason to it. I suspected she just avoided the alley as much as she could.
Keeping my head low, I rushed through the burnt out passageway until I emerged on the other side to the sound of the three-tiered fountain. Quickly, it was becoming my focal point. The place I stood in order to navigate through the rest of the market. The Spice District lay just beyond, it’s amber lights one of the first things I had seen upon arriving within the market. According to Hazel’s map, I was supposed to turn left. Following a blue set of lanterns that led down to a mirrored alley. From there, it was apparently a straight shot to the district unless the alley’s decided to change. Then, I was supposed to turn right at the fork. The little drawing next to her instructions indicated that it might be an actual fork I was supposed to be turning at.
Alone in these alleys, I felt my heart beat a little harder. Suddenly I was very aware of the surrounding space. Of the people who passed by. Barely any of them gave me a second glance but I couldn’t help but feel as if all eyes were on me. Despite no one even glancing my direction, I felt a gaze at the back of my neck, watching me. Following me.
Taking a deep breath, I continued on. I didn’t know what it was I would be expecting when it came to the Fashion District but I knew that my words to Hazel were true. No unnecessary risks. I’d be back by tonight.
Turning down the blue glow of the alley, I made my way through with purposeful steps. Still not quite relaxed enough to find myself easing through the passages with confidence. The bruising hands of the guard were still ever present and I was convinced that if I stopped, someone would point to me and tell me I didn’t belong.
So I kept my head forward, wandering down the alley. Making sure to pat my pocket a few times and make sure my papers were still there. It was on one particular pat that I bent my head down. Just slightly.
And ran right into Gabriel Caine.
The Warden steadied me with gloved hands, keeping me from falling at impact.
[[Push away from him]]
[[Stay still and wait to see what he does]]
[[Great. Just great]]
I shoved away from him, planting my hands on his chest and pushing with everything I had. He didn’t stumble and instead just released me with a look of mild irritation on his face. As if me running into him had somehow ruined his day.
Somehow, the Warden looked far more imposing than I remembered him being. As if he had grown taller or bigger somehow. Or maybe it was just that I was not used to seeing him in such confined spaced. He didn’t seem to fit in the narrow passages of the alley. The cobblestone walls had grown closer together as I walked to the point where I had to flatten myself to one side to let others pass. I doubted Caine was doing much of that. Instead, he seemed like the type of man who expected everyone else to move for him.
“Can I pass?” The irritation on my voice might not have been advised but he was just standing there expectantly.
“And where are you off to?” he asked. He was a wall blocking the path forward. Arms crossed in front of him, he looked at me evenly.
[[I don’t have to answer that question]]
[[The Fashion District]]
[[(lie)Running an errand for Hazel]]
I remained incredibly still, looking at him in frozen horror. How was it that one of the first times I set out on my own, he was the very one that I managed to run into?
With a firm grip, he moved me to the other side of the alley, picking me up so the tips of my toes dragged across the ground.
Somehow, the Warden looked far more imposing than I remembered him being. As if he had grown taller or bigger somehow. Or maybe it was just that I was not used to seeing him in such confined space. He didn’t seem to fit in the narrow passages of the alley. The cobblestone walls had grown closer together as I walked to the point where I had to flatten myself to one side to let others pass. I doubted Caine was doing much of that. Instead, he seemed like the type of man who expected everyone else to move for him.
“And where are you off to?” he asked. He was a wall blocking the path forward. Arms crossed in front of him, he looked at me evenly.
[[I don’t have to answer that question]]
[[The Fashion District]]
[[(lie)Running an errand for Hazel]]
The creak of his leather gloves echoed in my ears as I looked at him. “Great,” I said. “Just great.” He released me just as I began to pull away. Of course, it was just my luck that somehow I had managed to run into the one man that I didn’t want to see.
Somehow, the Warden looked far more imposing than I remembered him being. As if he had grown taller or bigger somehow. Or maybe it was just that I was not used to seeing him in such confined spaced. He didn’t seem to fit in the narrow passages of the alley. The cobblestone walls had grown closer together as I walked to the point where I had to flatten myself to one side to let others pass. I doubted Caine was doing much of that. Instead, he seemed like the type of man who expected everyone else to move for him.
“Can I pass?” The irritation on my voice might not have been advised but he was just standing there expectantly.
“And where are you off to?” he asked. He was a wall blocking the path forward. Arms crossed in front of him, he looked at me evenly.
[[I don’t have to answer that question]]
[[The Fashion District]]
[[(lie)Running an errand for Hazel]]
“I don’t have to answer that question,” I told him. While not under arrest, I didn’t see where I needed to tell this man anything.
“It is a simple question,” he told me.
“One that I am declining to answer,” I told him firmly. I wanted to distance myself from him as much as I could. Gabriel Caine was not a man that I wished to be around on a daily basis. The salty smell of the beach and the decay of human waste was still pungent each time I saw him.
“That is fine,” he told me pragmatically. “You can make the decision of whether it is worth your time to answer me before I take you back to the prison for questioning.”
“You’re going to process me again for not answering a question?”
“I am the Warden of the market. Non-compliance is something I am always concerned with.”
The nerve of this man rivaled anyone else’s that I had ever met. My fists clenched at my side as I breathed deeply. “I’m getting some new clothes,” I told him. “Hazel paid me your blood money and I’m going to the Fashion District.”
“Good. I had hoped you would put the money to good use. I’ll join you.” Stepping aside, he made space for me to move past him and continue on my way.
[[You are not coming with me]]
[[If you are coming with me then you can lead the way]]
[[Don’t you have work?]]
“The Fashion District.” I opted to be honest. The Warden was clearly not a man who liked long explanation. Nor was he someone who liked lies.
“So you received my money then.”
“Yes. And Hazel said she strong-armed you into more.” Leave it to sweet and innocent Hazel to negotiate a deal that got me paid more when I hadn’t even attended a day of work.
“She pointed some expenses out to me that I was not aware of. She did not strong-arm me. She gave me an argument and I agreed with her. I am glad to see that you are putting the money to good use.”
Stepping aside, he made space for me to pass him. But just as I began to move, he spoke once more.
“I’ll be joining you, of course.”
I froze.
[[You are not coming with me]]
[[If you are coming with me then you can lead the way]]
[[Don’t you have work?]]
“I’m running an errand for Hazel.” The lie rolled off my tongue so quickly that I didn’t even have time to think of whether it was a good one. I just knew I didn’t want to tell this man where I was going. I didn’t want him knowing anything about my life, really.
“Are you?” he asked, still not moving.
“Yeah. And it’s time-sensitive. So if you could just,” I gestured with my hands for him to move. Two quick little flits of my fingers indicating that he was in my way. The look he returned to me was one of deep bitter amusement.
“I’m sorry. Are words hard for you? Or is it just respect?”
I thought about the merit of shoving past him. Pushing aside those stupidly muscular arms to continue on my way. I probably would have gotten all of two feet before he nabbed me again.
“How about I ask the question again and you can make the decision of whether it is worth your time to answer me before I take you back to the cave for questioning.”
“You’re going to process me again for not answering a question?”
“I am the Warden of the market. Non-compliance is something I am always concerned with.”
I shook my head. The nerve of this man rivaled anyone else’s that I had ever met. “I’m getting some new clothes,” I told him. “Hazel paid me your blood money and I’m going to the Fashion District.”
“Good. I had hoped you would put the money to good use. I’ll join you.” Stepping aside, he made space for me to move past him and continue on my way.
[[You are not coming with me]]
[[If you are coming with me then you can lead the way]]
[[Don’t you have work?]]
My laughter echoed through the alleyway, bouncing off the cobblestone walls. “You are not coming with me,” I told him. That was not how I was going to be spending my day.
“I am,” he told me, arm still out for me to lead the way. We stared at each other. Two people at a standstill, willing the other to blink. I knew by default, it was going to have to be me. Mainly because I didn’t want to stand here all day. And I was pretty sure he would have enough patience to do that.
Shoving past him, I walked ahead, stomping down the cobblestone alley and following the lanterns above towards the reflective mirrors that were guiding me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I had seen a fork a few feet back.
My face was heated, my blood boiling as I heard the Warden’s footsteps along with my own. When I had reached Hazel’s, I had every desire not to see him again. I knew that I was obligated to go serve out my bail, but that was where it ended. Yet, conveniently, he was here. I was finding it hard to believe.
“Did you do this on purpose?” I flung over my shoulder.
“Yes.”
I huffed out a short breath of mirthless laughter. “How?”
“I told you. There is nowhere in the market you will be able to hide. Those cuffs allow me to find you, wherever you may be.”
“And when my bail is done will you be taking them off?”
He didn’t answer me.
[[Next|Chapter Three G 1]]There wasn’t going to be a choice. I could try and run and end back up at the prison. I could stand here and argue with him more and waste both of our time. Or, I could just let him come with me and ignore him the best I could.
“If you are coming with me then you can lead the way,” I told him. What was the point of relying on a map when I had the Warden as my guide.
“Of course,” he told me, turning his back to mine. There was no fear that I would even run. I was tempted to try it just to see what he would do.
Following the lanterns above, we walked towards the reflective mirrors that guided our way, passing a fork that was stuck in the wall, bent and tarnished.
The Warden’s footsteps fell alongside my own. When I had reached Hazel’s, I had every desire not to see him again. I knew that I was obligated to go serve out my bail, but that was where it ended. Yet, conveniently, he was here. I was finding it hard to believe.
“Did you do this on purpose?” I flung over my shoulder.
“Yes.”
I huffed out a short breath of mirthless laughter. “How?”
“I told you. There is nowhere in the market you will be able to hide. Those cuffs allow me to find you, wherever you may be.”
“And when my bail is done will you be taking them off?”
He didn’t answer me.
[[Next|Chapter Three G 1]]“Don’t you have to work?”
It was doubtful that the Warden of the Night Market took time out of his day to escort ex prisoners around to buy clothes. The workaholic in him was not going to be invested in something like that. Yet, he was looking at me like that was exactly what he was going to do.
“My patrol will be taking me in the direction of the Fashion District. I can do both.” I stared at him incredulously, not understanding what was going through his head. He held his arm out though, a long line of blue to point the way down the alley. “Shall we?”
There wasn’t going to be a choice. I could try and run and end back up at the prison. I could stand here and argue with him more and waste both of our time. Or, I could just let him come with me and ignore him the best I could.
Shoving past him, I walked ahead, stomping down the cobblestone alley and following the lanterns above towards the reflective mirrors that were guiding me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I had seen a fork a few feet back.
My face was heated, my blood boiling as I heard the Warden’s footsteps along with my own. When I had reached Hazel’s, I had every desire not to see him again. I knew that I was obligated to go serve out my bail, but that was where it ended. Yet, conveniently, he was here. I was finding it hard to believe.
“Did you do this on purpose?” I flung over my shoulder.
“Yes.”
I huffed out a short breath of mirthless laughter. “How?”
“I told you. There is nowhere in the market you will be able to hide. Those cuffs allow me to find you, wherever you may be.”
“And when my bail is done will you be taking them off?”
He didn’t answer me.
[[Next|Chapter Three G 1]]I thought back on that day. How I had been. The dripping chill of the cell and the way the sea air had hit me upon leaving the tunnels. The feel of the sand beneath my feet as we walked towards the bail block, going past it to the deep pit where the moans rose up to mingle with the waves. That day was a wash of grey for me. Confusing and life altering in such a way that I still don’t think I had fully processed.
Gabriel was a man who used his power to walk through life. Rules that he claimed to live by were ones everyone else was supposed to abide by. Blindly follow the blind. That’s what it felt like. It left a bitterness swirling within me. The likes of which I was hard-pressed to scrub away.
“I didn’t realize I had much of a choice,” I told him. He had made it clear he was coming with me. That he would find me.
“You had the choice to run,” he said. “It may not have worked in your favor but you did have the choice.”
“That’s not a choice, Warden. That’s an ultimatum.”
We passed a group of people in a small off section of the alley. They were gathered around a floating tea table, drinking from dandelion cups. When they spied the Warden, the table dropped. The magic dissipating. The Warden only nodded at them as we continued on our way.
“How are you adjusting to the market?” he asked curiously.
“Do you care?”
“I would not ask if I did not.”
[[I’m adjusting just fine]]
[[I’m adjusting but it is taking time to get used to everything]]
[[I don’t think I’m adjusting very well]]<<if $pits == "false">>“Gabriel!” I shouted. <<elseif $pits == "true">>”Warden!” I shouted.<</if>>
He looked at me, his eyes flashing with anger at the sight of my disobedience. I didn’t care though. I pointed to where the group of individuals huddled, watching as they pulled more amulets from their pockets. When he laid eyes on them, it was with a dawning understanding.
A silver glow pulsed from him, seeping out from the cracks in his gloves. Eyes set on them, Gabriel began marching over, his boot falls cracking against the floor and spidering out to the edges. Crumbling bits of concrete and glass fell below, producing screams as people dodged out of the way. But Gabriel kept marching forward. Determined.
They were on the platform above him but it did not matter. I watched as he pulled his glove from his hand, bright silver light cracking around him. Above, the individuals had not seen him yet. Still jeering and rubbing elbows with each other. When they were lifted from the ground, they startled, looking around as their feet dangled beneath them.
They were then slammed downwards, lifted in to the air before being slammed two platforms down. Right at the Warden’s feet.
When an amulet rolled from one of their hands, Gabriel stepped on it. It fizzled beneath his boot, shattering into an array of gold dust.
The Velvet Guard raced forward, apprehending the individuals as the Warden instead turned his eyes to me. The light from his fingers disappeared as he put his black leather gloves back on. The surrounding platforms were sliding, stalls were broken clumps on the ground, and he looked as if he hadn’t broken a sweat.
Approaching me, he sighed wearily. “Thank you. There could have been far more destruction today without your intervention.”
“What was that?”
“Contraband,” he sneered, looking back down towards the glittering remnants of the amulet. “Unfortunately, it is sold quite readily to the correct buyer.”
“Warden?” One of his lieutenants called.
He looked at me. “I will only be a moment. I would appreciate it if you would wait.”
[[Wait for him]]
[[Gather the clothes I dropped]]
[[Check on the people around me]]
<<set $fashiondistrict to "callwarden">>The levels below were chaos. The Warden and his guards were methodically going through the stalls, looking for the source of the destruction. I was almost positive that it was in that man's possession. But short of calling out for the Warden and hoping that he could jump up a level, I didn’t know what else to do.
Around me, individuals were running, some looting the stalls. The pandemonium was enough to cover me. Without thinking, I began to walk towards the individuals, focusing on keeping my breaths even as they continued to laugh at the screams erupting around me. I counted my heart beats in my head. Listening to the way my pulse echoed in my ears. And just as I was about to walk past them, I tried to channel my inner Milo. The only thief that I even knew.
My hand was caught and twisted behind me the second I tried to reach out.
“What do ye think you're doin’?” The man asked with a smile, his accent thick. “Wouldn’t be tryin’ to ruin our fun now, would you?”
Twisting, I tried to pull myself from his grip but he was leading me away, the others closing in to block me from the rest of the market. <<if $pits == "true">> The slide of unknown flesh against me twisted my gut. I tried to remind myself that they were living. That they were not the salt encrusted flesh that riddled the beach. But all I could smell was the wet scent of decay.<</if>>
The air around us turned silver, pulsing brightly for a single moment and blinding us. I felt the grip release from me and as I blinked the light from my eyes, I saw the man floating above me while the others tried to scatter. The guard managed to grab them before they could get too far. And the man that had lain his hands on me, the one with the amulet was tossed over the side of the platform, right at the Warden’s feet.
When an amulet rolled from one of their hands, Gabriel stepped on it. It fizzled beneath his boot, shattering into an array of gold dust.
The Velvet Guard raced forward, apprehending the individuals as the Warden instead turned his eyes to me. The light from his fingers disappeared as he put his black leather gloves back on. The surrounding platforms were sliding, stalls were broken clumps on the ground, and he looked as if he hadn’t broken a sweat.
Approaching me, he sighed wearily. “Thank you. There could have been far more destruction today without your intervention.”
“What was that?”
“Contraband,” he sneered, looking back down towards the glittering remnants of the amulet. “Unfortunately, it is sold quite readily to the correct buyer.”
“Warden?” One of his lieutenants called.
He looked at me. “I will only be a moment. I would appreciate it if you would wait.”
[[Wait for him]]
[[Gather the clothes I dropped]]
[[Check on the people around me]]
<<set $fashiondistrict to "steal">>The levels below were chaos. The Warden and his guards were methodically going through the stalls, looking for the source of the destruction. I was almost positive that it was in that man's possession. But short of calling out for the Warden and hoping that he could get to them in time before they ran, I didn’t know what else to do.
Around me, individuals were running, some looting the stalls. The pandemonium was enough to cover me. Without thinking, I ran towards the man. Barreling towards this stranger with a loud cry that mingled with the rest of the market. Bending forward, I hit him directly against the waist, the air pushing from his lungs as I tackled him to the ground. I didn’t look at his face or try to wait for help. Instead, something feral came over me. I grabbed at him, pushing into the folds of his skirt, the lining of his jacket, looking for the amulet.
“What the fuck?” I heard him yell, trying to shove me away.
I could feel my heart beat within my teeth as I continued to grapple with him, my fingers curling around the cool metal of the amulet finally as I pulled it from his pocket. When I rolled to my back, I watched as he went with me. Looming over me, I saw the glint of the knife and felt my heart seize, as if feeling the pain before it pierced my skin.
The pain never came though. Above me, Gabriel stood, his hand on the back of the man's collar as he twisted the man's wrist until he let go of the knife. He then tossed him to one of his lieutenants.
“Are you alright?” he asked, looking down at me with honest concern.
I breathed deeply, feeling the rush of air come back to my lungs. Silently, I held up the amulet. Gabriel snatched it, grinding it beneath his boot. The crackle of magic fizzled out then, dying in a clip of thunder.
Slowly, I got to my feet. “What was that?”
“Contraband,” he sneered, looking back down towards the glittering remnants of the amulet. “Unfortunately, it is sold quite readily to the correct buyer.”
“Warden?” One of his lieutenants called.
He looked at me. “I will only be a moment. I would appreciate it if you would wait.”
[[Wait for him]]
[[Gather the clothes I dropped]]
[[Check on the people around me]]
<<set $fashiondistrict to "tackle">>I waited where I stood, watching as the men were put in cuffs, black bands sinking into their wrists. I could see a few members of the Velvet Guard helping the last of the people who had been caught in the runway split, settling them off to the side to check on them over. Thankfully, it looked as if the worst of the injuries were cut palms and bruised knees.
When Gabriel approached me again, his face was unreadable. <<if $fashiondistrict == "callwarden">> “I appreciate what you did. I do truly mean it.”
I nodded my head, feeling the adrenaline begin to leave me.<<elseif $fashiondistrict == "steal">> “Why did you not wait for me,” he snapped. “You could have seriously been injured. You do not know the magic that they had on them.”
My wrist still stung from where it had been twisted behind my back. It wasn’t one of my best plans but I hadn't known what else to do. “I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing,” I told him.
“Next time, do exactly that,” he demanded. <<elseif $fashiondistrict == "tackle">> “While I do not condone what you just did, seeing as it directly disobeyed what I instructed of you,” he took a deep breath. “Thank you. Your dangerous and stupid thinking did help. Do not do it again.”
“Wow,” I blinked at him. “That was almost a legitimate thank you.”<</if>>
Looking back at the guard members cuffing each of the individuals, I couldn’t help but notice how they looked no different from everyone else here. “Who were they?” I asked. There had been no point to what they had done other than petty amusement.
“A group of individuals with no moral quandaries,” Gabriel replied curtly.
“So you don’t know.”
“I would like you to come back to the precinct with me,” he said, ignoring me. “I have to file this report and make sure that these prisoners are taken care of. Then I can escort you back to Ms. Albright’s.”
“I don’t really…”
“Warden,” one of the guards called. “Will you be staying here for inspection or are we sending the men out for that?”
Gabriel did not break eye contact with me. “I will be heading back to the station. And bringing a guest.”
There was very little room for argument, apparently. And in an effort to keep the peace with the Warden, I didn’t protest. <<if $pits == "true">> It was a tenuous one at best and I was far too tired suddenly to care about fighting him so hard.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Three G6]]
I began picking up the clothes I had dropped, gathering my recent purchases. Mud and debris had stained some of them. I imagined the horror on Hazel’s face as I returned with clean clothes that were already soiled. <<if $pits == "true">> She had not wanted me to even go to the Fashion District on my own. Due to circumstances exactly like this.<</if>>
<<if $fashiondistrict == "callwarden">> “I appreciate what you did. I do truly mean it.”
I nodded my head, feeling the adrenaline begin to leave me.<<elseif $fashiondistrict == "steal">> “Why did you not wait for me,” he snapped. “You could have seriously been injured. You do not know the magic that they had on them.”
My wrist still stung from where it had been twisted behind my back. It wasn’t one of my best plans but I hadn't known what else to do. “I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing,” I told him.
“Next time, do exactly that,” he demanded. <<elseif $fashiondistrict == "tackle">> “While I do not condone what you just did, seeing as it directly disobeyed what I instructed of you,” he took a deep breath. “Thank you. Your dangerous and stupid thinking did help. Do not do it again.”
“Wow,” I blinked at him. “That was almost a legitimate thank you.”<</if>>
Looking back at the guard members cuffing each of the individuals, I couldn’t help but notice how they looked no different from everyone else here. “Who were they?” I asked. There had been no point to what they had done other than petty amusement.
“A group of individuals with no moral quandaries,” Gabriel replied curtly.
“So you don’t know.”
“I would like you to come back to the precinct with me,” he said, ignoring me. “I have to file this report and make sure that these prisoners are taken care of. Then I can escort you back to Ms. Albright’s.”
“I don’t really…”
“Warden,” one of the guards called. “Will you be staying here for inspection or are we sending the men out for that?”
Gabriel did not break eye contact with me. “I will be heading back to the station. And bringing a guest.”
There was very little room for argument, apparently. And in an effort to keep the peace with the Warden, I didn’t protest. <<if $pits == "true">> It was a tenuous one at best and I was far too tired suddenly to care about fighting him so hard.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Three G6]]
As the Warden walked off, I turned to the people around me. A few shop owners were picking up their wares, their face's horror-stricken as their livelihood lay in shambles on the ground. Going up to one woman, I began gathering her bone needles, placing them back on her counter.
“Oh, thank you,” she said softly.
“Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
“No,” she said with a shaky smile. “Just a bit in shock. Something like this hasn’t happened for some time now. The market must be getting restless.”
I didn’t have time to ask her what she meant as Gabriel came back towards me. His expression was unreadable. As I handed the rest of the bone needles to the woman, she quickly took her leave at the sight of the Warden.
<<if $fashiondistrict == "callwarden">> “I appreciate what you did. I do truly mean it.”
I nodded my head, feeling the adrenaline begin to leave me.<<elseif $fashiondistrict == "steal">> “Why did you not wait for me,” he snapped. “You could have seriously been injured. You do not know the magic that they had on them.”
My wrist still stung from where it had been twisted behind my back. It wasn’t one of my best plans but I hadn't known what else to do. “I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing,” I told him.
“Next time, do exactly that,” he demanded. <<elseif $fashiondistrict == "tackle">> “While I do not condone what you just did, seeing as it directly disobeyed what I instructed of you,” he took a deep breath. “Thank you. Your dangerous and stupid thinking did help. Do not do it again.”
“Wow,” I blinked at him. “That was almost a legitimate thank you.”<</if>>
Looking back at the guard members cuffing each of the individuals, I couldn’t help but notice how they looked no different from everyone else here. “Who were they?” I asked. There had been no point to what they had done other than petty amusement.
“A group of individuals with no moral quandaries,” Gabriel replied curtly.
“So you don’t know.”
“I would like you to come back to the precinct with me,” he said, ignoring me. “I have to file this report and make sure that these prisoners are taken care of. Then I can escort you back to Ms. Albright’s.”
“I don’t really…”
“Warden,” one of the guards called. “Will you be staying here for inspection or are we sending the men out for that?”
Gabriel did not break eye contact with me. “I will be heading back to the station. And bringing a guest.”
There was very little room for argument, apparently. And in an effort to keep the peace with the Warden, I didn’t protest. <<if $pits == "true">> It was a tenuous one at best and I was far too tired suddenly to care about fighting him so hard.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Three G6]]
Stray glances were cast our way as we continued to walk. Despite me being marked for the pits, I was now at their Warden’s side. I doubted any of them had the gall to question it, however. The Warden certainly was paying no heed to the others as he wove us through the throngs of buyers. At one point, his hand went to my hip, guiding me to the other side of him just as a group of velvet clad guardsman walked by. They tipped their head to him but said nothing to me.
“I think we should formally introduce ourselves,” I said, the argument of 47B seeming so long ago now. “Though, I still don't know my name." For once, it looked as if he believed me.
“Gabriel Caine,” he said, his voice pitched lower. “As you have surmised, I am the Guard Captain for the Night Market and the leader of the Velvet Guard.” It was such a strange mockery of the conversation that should have transpired within his office but it was a start.
We ducked beneath an overhang, an old, wooden cracked sign hung from a forgotten structure dipping into the sand. Gabriel held it aside for me, gesturing for me to go forward before following. I observed him out of the corner of my eye, watching the way the light of the moon caught the cut of his jaw and the curve of his cheek. His dark hair was misplaced and it was a relief to see someone of such fastidious image, looking ruffled.
As we came upon a sloped road, the lights I had spied from earlier became more prominent. They were lanterns hung on thick cable from building to building, swaying softly in the night breeze. Making our way further into the courtyard revealed a circular expanse of cobblestones with a deep bed of bamboo foliage stretching upwards from a manicured garden bed. People came and went in the soft amber light, stepping from between buildings where checkpoints for the night's festivities had been set up. Several members of the guard stood around, checking over papers and giving directions to the individuals who all looked as if they had had a bit too much to drink for the evening.
[[I was afraid and it showed]]
[[I was determined to walk out of here with my dignity]]
[[I was calm. The worst of the danger was behind me]]
“Do you?” I asked. “Have an engagement that is.” I wondered what type of person would buy her for the evening, simply to spend it celebrating. What did that say about them? Were they lonely or did they want to gain some sort of status symbol they could not achieve on their own? And why did a woman like Belladonna put herself in such a position.
“I do,” she said evenly. “Despite what my recent time had dictated, I am quite the busy woman, $name. My days and evenings are booked far in advance.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice. It was sometimes easy to forget the type of woman she was. How she had scraped her way to her position within the Night Market and someone like me was not going to change it. Not within a month. I’m sure others had tried.
“Dear heart,” she began, walking towards me, her hips swaying. “In case I did not make it clear before, let me make it clear now,” she said, lips barely moving. With one lacquered finger, she tipped my chin upwards, angling my head just slightly to the side, the threat of just how easily she could nip at my neck for a taste, becoming all too clear. “Whatever thoughts you have of romancing me, need to be swept far out to sea,” she said softly. Firmly. “I do not love, dear heart. I pretend to. I am paid to. You will be disappointed if you continue down this path.”
“I was just asking,” I whispered back to her.
Her expression was frozen, eyes narrowed into golden slits. When she stood tall, she turned and began walking away, heading down an alley I did not recognize and leaving me by the three-tiered fountain. I couldn’t help but feel as if I had messed that up. Pushed something that wasn’t there, perhaps. Even friendship was something that Belladonna pushed away with a firm hand. I doubted there were many that had cracked that exterior.
“I urge you to think about your actions, dear,” she said from somewhere in the shadows. I didn’t see her anymore. Only felt her presence. “Heartache looks good on no one.”
With a flutter of wings, I felt her depart. I was alone, with nothing but the sound of the fountain bubbling at my back.
[[Next|Chapter Five B1]]
Looking down, I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” It was sometimes easy to forget who Belladonna was. The things she did for a living. How she got to where she was now. How many times had she made it clear that what she was doing was a favor to me and my own. Not something she desired.
Nodding, I looked up at her, smiling faintly. “I hope that your night goes well,” I told her.
Her expression was neutral, but I felt the weight of it settle across me as she began weighing a decision.
“Dear heart,” she began, walking towards me, her hips swaying. “In case I did not make it clear before, let me make it clear now,” she said, lips barely moving. With one lacquered finger, she tipped my chin upwards, angling my head just slightly to the side, the threat of just how easily she could nip at my neck for a taste, becoming all too clear. “Whatever thoughts you have of romancing me, need to be swept far out to sea,” she said softly. Firmly. “I do not love, dear heart. I pretend to. I am paid to. You will be disappointed if you continue down this path.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized again.
Her expression was frozen, eyes narrowed into golden slits. When she stood again, she turned and began walking away, heading down an alley I did not recognize and leaving me by the three-tiered fountain. I couldn’t help but feel as if I had messed that up. Pushed something that wasn’t there, perhaps. Even friendship was something that Belladonna pushed away with a firm hand. I doubted there were many that had cracked that exterior.
“I urge you to think about your actions, dear,” she said from somewhere in the shadows. I didn’t see her anymore. Only felt her presence. “Heartache looks good on no one.”
With a flutter of wings, I felt her depart. I was alone, with nothing but the sound of the fountain bubbling at my back.
[[Next|Chapter Five B1]]
I tilted my chin towards her in a challenge. “Cancel it,” I said. Part of me wanted to see how she answered, part of me was hoping she would throw caution to the wind and hold out her hand.
A slow smile curled at the corners of her lips. “Oh?”
“Cancel it,” I repeated. “Spend the festival with someone who wants to spend time with you. Not someone who is paying you.”
“I would argue that they wish to spend time with me even more if they are willing to part with their well-earned money to do so.”
“You know what I mean.”
Walking towards me, hips swaying to the side, she leaned forward. She smelled of violets and the earth. Her hands like musty old books. “In case I did not make it clear before, let me make it clear now,” she said, lips barely moving. With one lacquered finger, she tipped my chin upwards, angling my head just slightly to the side, the threat of just how easily she could nip at my neck for a taste, becoming all too clear. “Whatever thoughts you have of romancing me, need to be swept far out to sea,” she said softly. Firmly. “I do not love, dear heart. I pretend to. I am paid to. You will be disappointed if you continue down this path.”
I swallowed thickly. “Will I?”
Her expression was frozen, eyes narrowed into golden slits. When she stood again, she turned and began walking away, heading down an alley I did not recognize and leaving me by the three-tiered fountain. I couldn’t help but feel as if I had messed that up. Pushed something that wasn’t there, perhaps. Even friendship was something that Belladonna pushed away with a firm hand. I doubted there were many that had cracked that exterior.
“I urge you to think about your actions, dear,” she said from somewhere in the shadows. I didn’t see her anymore. Only felt her presence. “Heartache looks good on no one.”
With a flutter of wings, I felt her depart. I was alone, with nothing but the sound of the fountain bubbling at my back.
[[Next|Chapter Five B1]]
The streets were more subdued than usual. It felt as if the world was packed away, preparing for tonight. As I made my way down the burnt out alley, I wondered if there was ever a night that the ghosts could walk free. If on such nights like this, if the magic allowed them to explore. I imagined them dancing, waltzing around the markets, between the walls, living their life once again. I couldn’t imagine eternity and felt sorry for the ones that had to endure it.
Hazel was sweeping the main lobby when I came in, the day's work having already been resolved and the shop cleaned. Her hand was still wrapped in the same scarf I had seen from that morning, clutching the broom gingerly. But she smiled as I entered the room.
There were four new crates near the back, waiting to be unloaded. I had yet to see a delivery come in. Yet, every day, a new supply run appeared.
“How did it go?” she asked, pausing in her cleanup.
[[Good|B Good]]
[[I have no idea|B I have no idea]]
[[I leanred the Baron is an actual snake|B Baron snake]]“I think really well,” I told her. “I didn’t see the Baron, but I got the magic all the same. I’ll take that as a success.” If every meeting with the Barons could go that smoothly, we would be done in no time. Though, I doubted we would be that lucky.
Hazel frowned. “What do you mean you didn’t meet the Baron? I thought Belladonna had it all set up?”
“She did. I met with his wife.”
"The Baron is married?"
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized.
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. “She had his power?” It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. The idea of having little bits of a Baron's power in my pocket felt like advertising a target on my back. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most able to protect these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was the one I trusted most with this kind of thing. The apothecary was probably the safest place for it.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t want it to be.”
I didn’t care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes of the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.<</if>>
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight,” I started.
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
“I don’t know. I tried to see if Belladonna would like to go with me but she turned me down pretty quick.”
I was expecting the look of sympathy that I usually got from Hazel. Instead, her eyes ticked away, and she continued sweeping the same spot, despite it being spotless.
[[Why don’t you like her?]]
[[Maybe I’ll just go alone]]
[[Maybe I’ll just stay in for the night]]“I have no clue,” I said with a small sigh. That was the problem. I gained the power I was supposed to but did the meeting go well? I felt entirely unprepared for what I had done and even with technically succeeding, I still felt as if I missteped somewhere. “I didn’t even meet the Baron. I met his wife.”
“His wife? He has a wife?” It was clear Hazel was trying to search her memory for that specific piece of information but she either never had it, or, it was so inconsequential she had forgotten.
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized.
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. “She had his power?” It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. The idea of having little bits of a Baron's power in my pocket felt like advertising a target on my back. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most able to protect these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was the one I trusted most with this kind of thing. The apothecary was probably the safest place for it.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t want it to be.”
I didn’t care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes of the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.<</if>>
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight,” I started.
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
“I don’t know. I tried to see if Belladonna would like to go with me but she turned me down pretty quick.”
I was expecting the look of sympathy that I usually got from Hazel. Instead, her eyes ticked away, and she continued sweeping the same spot, despite it being spotless.
[[Why don’t you like her?]]
[[Maybe I’ll just go alone]]
[[Maybe I’ll just stay in for the night]]
"I learned today that the Baron of the books is a snake."
"Fun," Hazel chirped.
"And that he's married."
Hazel's eyes went wide then, whipping her head towards me. "He has a wife?"
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized.
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. “She had his power?” It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. The idea of having little bits of a Baron's power in my pocket felt like advertising a target on my back. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most able to protect these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was the one I trusted most with this kind of thing. The apothecary was probably the safest place for it.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t want it to be.”
I didn’t care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes of the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.<</if>>
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight,” I started.
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
“I don’t know. I tried to see if Belladonna would like to go with me but she turned me down pretty quick.”
I was expecting the look of sympathy that I usually got from Hazel. Instead, her eyes ticked away, and she continued sweeping the same spot, despite it being spotless.
[[Why don’t you like her?]]
[[Maybe I’ll just go alone]]
[[Maybe I’ll just stay in for the night]]Hazel was quite possibly the kindest person I had ever met. She was willing to help anyone that came through her door, oftentimes without question. Yet, every time I mentioned Belladonna, she went quiet.
“Why don’t you like her?”
Hazel jumped at the question. “What? Who?”
“Belladonna.”
Hazel’s eyes ticked towards the door and for one solid moment, I thought she was going to run from the question entirely. But that was just not in Hazel’s nature. Slumping her shoulders forward, she sighed.
“I don’t //not// like her,” she said.
“You get nervous around her,” I pointed out.
“I just… she sees things. Knows things. I feel like I’m under a microscope each time I’m around her.”
I tilted my head to the side. I could see how that might bother someone. But Hazel was not someone that struck me as an individual with something to hide. So the entire feeling seemed invalid. Then again, I had only known them all for a short time. The surface of their life that I had scratched was something that covered far more than what I was privy too.
“Just, if you’re going to hang around her, be careful, okay? Women like that are often after power and power only.” Hazel’s eyes unconsciously ticked to the side. There was an old picture of her mother, framed on one of the bookshelves. She said nothing more though. Not on that at least.
[[Next|Chapter Five B2]]
Trying not to read too much into her look, I kicked my feet against the ground. “I don’t know. Maybe going on my own tonight isn’t such a bad idea. I haven’t really gotten a lot of time to explore the market. And if I’m going to be here for a while, I want to be able to do things on my own. It was quickly becoming apparent that I didn’t know what to do unless I was in the company of someone else.
“If you want,” Hazel said, “You could always come to the festival with Milo and I. We meet in the carnival district and play games for a good part of the night.”
“I’ll meet up with you,” I told her. I didn’t know if I wanted to spend the entirety of the evening with the two of them, but I wasn’t opposed to it after a while. Milo and Hazel were a dynamic duo that was fun to just be around. “I think I’d like to spend some time on my own right now.”
Setting her broom aside, Hazel nodded encouragingly. “You should. We’ve kept you so busy. You deserve some downtime.” Smiling, she began to sink back into her usual bustling self. “If you see a district with blinding lights and bells, you know that’s where Milo and I will be. We’d love to spend some time with you and celebrate. Just make sure to be back by morning if I don’t see you though. That way I don’t think anything terrible has happened to you.”
I chuckled a bit at that. “I will, Hazel. And I promise, you’ll see me tonight.”
[[Next|Chapter Five B2]]
Trying not to read too much into her look, I kicked my feet against the ground. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take the opportunity and stay in for the night. I haven’t really gotten a lot of time to myself.”
“Oh,” Hazel sighed. “No. Don’t do that. The Lantern Festival is a lot of fun. I promise.”
I didn’t really know if I relished the idea of going on there on my own. Then again, it might have been a good opportunity to explore the market a bit more. And to gain a hobby or two. It was quickly becoming apparent that I didn’t know what to do unless I was in the company of someone else.
“Maybe I’ll walk around for a bit,” I conceded.
“If you want,” she said, “You could always come to the festival with Milo and I. We meet in the carnival district and play games for a good part of the night.”
“I’ll meet up with you,” I told her. I didn’t know if I wanted to spend the entirety of the evening with the two of them, but I wasn’t opposed to it after a while. Milo and Hazel were a dynamic duo that was fun to just be around. “I think I’d like to spend some time on my own right now.”
Setting her broom aside, Hazel nodded encouragingly. “You should. We’ve kept you so busy. You deserve some downtime.” Smiling, she began to sink back into her usual bustling self. “If you see a district with blinding lights and bells, you know that’s where Milo and I will be. We’d love to spend some time with you and celebrate. Just make sure to be back by morning if I don’t see you though. That way I don’t think anything terrible has happened to you.”
I chuckled a bit at that. “I will, Hazel. And I promise, you’ll see me tonight.”
[[Next|Chapter Five B2]]
I set out on my own after that. Hazel had said she would still be a bit before she got to the market and that Milo was probably pre-drinking somewhere. I thought it was best to explore the market before it got too chaotic.
The lamps were dimming. It was apparent when I passed the three-tiered-fountain once more, heading down the familiar path towards the Spice District. The amber glow of the paper orbs up above had diminished into a soft orange glow. I thought that meant night was upon us before. Some construct of evening. But apparently, that meant that the lamps needed to be revived. Magic. The one thing that was not supposed to happen within the districts and yet the very thing that was apparently going to keep the paths lit for the upcoming year.
The Spice District was heady with the scent of paprika and cardamon. Steam billowed out from under the tented awnings and more people than normal were milling the streets, in their absolute finest. They carried sacks of warm smelling pine nuts and roasted almonds, munching on them happily as they mingled through the shops. Even the food markets looked a little more decorated today.
I stopped at a stall, sampling the food they had there. The dish was some form of orange, spiced rice with strips of crackling pork and webbed roots I couldn’t identify. It was good. Spicy, but good. And the woman looked pleased that I was willing to give it a go, so she ended up serving me a tall glass of bubble milk for free.
By the time I was done with my food, my belly full and my cheeks pleasantly flushed with the heat of the district, I continued on my way. Past the crowds of people who already looked a little inebriated, past the kids drawing with sticks in patches of soft dirt, and past the meandering couples, arms hooked together, out for their evening stroll.
It was then that I spotted The Warden. The rich velvet of his midnight blue cloak a stand-out against all the patterns that everyone else was wearing. When set against a sea of mismatched clothes, skirts, and patterned bodices, the dark blue of his cloak was almost an eyesore. His face was grim as he stared out over the throngs of people that passed by, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
<<if $pits == "false">>“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you use the threat of your sword,” I said, coming up to his side.
He did not blink. Barely even reacted to me being there. “Tonight is a special night.”
I observed the crowd. None of them looked threatening, but Gabriel felt stiff by my side. More so than usual, if that were possible.
“Are you working tonight?” I asked. It was clear that he was but for some reason I still felt the need to ask.<<elseif $pits == "true">>I shook my head. Leave it to the Warden to be out on a night of celebration, his presence a threat to the rest of the market. I had to walk right past him. There was a moment where I thought I would turn and walk the other way, but the walls closed behind me. Because that was something that the walls could apparently do.
With a deep sigh, I kept my eyes straight forward, trying to walk past the Warden without a word. But he was not going to let that happen.
“Alone tonight?” he asked.
I stopped, turning slightly towards him. “Getting to know the market,” I said. “Working?”<</if>>
“The entirety of the Velvet Guard is on duty this evening.”
I could see them, dotted through the crowd. The crimson of their cloaks weaving in and out. “Don’t they get to enjoy the festival?”
“There is enjoyment in our work,” he said. His silver eyes flashed, and I watched him rock forward slightly. Whatever he had seen looked as if it were a false alarm, however because before long, he was settled back into the stiff stance that I had often found him in.
[[So you’re the kind of boss who makes your employees work holidays, huh?]]
[[Which part do you enjoy the best?]]
[[Match his energy]]
“So,” I began, clasping my hands behind my back. “Are you the kind of boss who makes your employees work holidays?”
Gabriel gave me a long-suffering look and I could see a few people glance at me. Turned out a few of his men were curious of that as well.
“You do understand that I do not make all the rules, do you not? I do not own the guard.”
That, I didn’t know. “You have a boss?”
“I do.”
“Huh.”
The expulsion of breath seemed to surprise him a little. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I guess I just never figured you to have a boss. You seem like you’re in control of your own, well, everything.”
Nodding at a few men that passed, Gabriel didn’t respond to that. Not that I was surprised. Conversation with the Warden, especially while he was on duty, was like pulling teeth.
[[Can you tell me a bit more about this festival?]]
[[I saw the Baron of the Books today]]
[[How long are you on duty for tonight?]]<<if $pits == "false">>“Which part of this do you enjoy best?” I asked. I supposed it came off a little flippant, especially with him on duty, but I was genuinely curious. With how tight he was holding himself, I was almost certain he would be in pain tomorrow. <<elseif $pits == "true">> “Which part of this do you enjoy best?” I asked. It came off a little flippant, especially with him on duty. But I did wonder what part of this stiff jawed, authoritarian stance, was even enjoyable for him.<</if>>
“The apprehending of people who mean harm to others,” he recited.
I shook my head, laughing to myself. “Of course you’d say something like that.” The fact that I may have expected another answer was wishful thinking on my part.
“Is there something that you need from me? Something you wish to report?”
<<if $pits == "false">>I shook my head again. “No. Everything looks lovely here.” I had never seen so many smiling faces.
“It is a beautiful sight,” he agreed. “So why are you standing with the Warden of the district?”
“Because I saw you and thought I would say hi.” It was such a simple statement and yet one that took him aback all the same. Not many just came to chat with him, it seemed.<<elseif $pits == "true">> “You stopped me, Warden,” I reminded him. “There is going to have to be a day that you see me in the market and don’t immediately think I’m up to no good.”
“I don’t think that now.” His voice was even and I couldn’t tell if it was a lie or not. “I have far more pressing matters to look out for tonight than you.”
“And yet you stopped me.”<</if>>
Straightening a little, he nodded. “My apologies. Lantern night is not my favorite. Too much can go wrong, and we are short-staffed.” Then, after a long beat of silence. “And hello.”
I snorted a little but acknowledged it all the same. He did seem wound awfully tight this evening.
[[Can you tell me a bit more about this festival?]]
[[I saw the Baron of the Books today]]
[[How long are you on duty for tonight?]]Gabriel was potentially the driest person I knew. While I had no doubt there was something that would have lit his face with expression, it was a secret he kept close to his chest. Especially during duty. Though, sometimes, I thought he forgot that even on duty, he could have fun.
Mirroring his stance, I looked out over the crowd, my expression much like his. It took him a minute, but when he noticed I was still by his side, a small frown of confusion reached his lips as he inclined his head towards my own.
“My apologies. Is there something I could help you with?”
“No,” I told him.
He nodded. Satisfied that he had asked. But as the silence stretched on, and I still did not move, he looked at me again, hesitation in his gaze. As if he had missed something.
“Do you know of something that needs watched?” he asked.
I shook my head again. “No. Everything looks lovely here.” I had never seen so many smiling faces.
“It is a beautiful sight,” he agreed. Eyes forward again, I tried to hide my smile. I was almost certain he was racking his brain to try and figure out what it was I was doing. Everything to Gabriel had a purpose. It was a well-thought-out plan. Standing here, saying very little, was clearly driving him insane.
Finally, he turned his body towards me. “Are you alright?” It was a more direct question than I had heard from him while on duty.
“Oh,” I said with a smile. “Yes. Are you?”
“Yes?” His gaze skittered over me, clearly unbelieving of my words. “Surely you do not wish to wait by my side the entire evening.”
“No,” I agreed. “Probably not. But I am enjoying myself for the moment.”
“The lantern festival is only once a year. You should experience it.” The fact that I was not taking part of the festivities was a clear source of discontent with him.
[[Can you tell me a bit more about this festival?]]
[[I saw the Baron of the Books today]]
[[How long are you on duty for tonight?]]“Can you tell me more about the festival?” I asked. “I heard a bit about it from the Baron’s wife but still am unclear.”
“Ah, the Baron of the Books. That was today.” Across the Spice District, there was a slow rumble of anger. Gabriel saw it before I even noticed what was happening. His eyes searched for the source before landing on his own men as they descended onto two clearly intoxicated young men. Only when they were apprehended, did I see the Warden’s hand relax by his side. “Did you achieve what we needed you to?” he asked.
I almost forgot what we were talking about. “Oh, yes. Hazel has it.”
“Good.” Nodding to his men, he turned towards me a bit more. “The festival is once a year,” he said. I was finding myself struggling to keep up with the shifts in topic. “The lanterns, for whatever reason, are only lit with enough magic to keep them going for a full rotation of our realm. So, this night, every year, they burn out before being relit at the apex of ceremony.”
“Who relights them?”
“Some say the Night Market itself. Others think the Barons have the power to light them and conduct the ceremony in secret. There used to be a Lady of the Lamps, but she retired years ago without repercussion. The market likes to put on a festival during this time. A celebration that shows our appreciation for the lantern light, and, for the superstitious, a way to give thanks to the magic that keeps them lit.”
“That’s kind of a fun way to look at it all.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “Though I do not enjoy the moments when the lanterns are doused. There is always the thought that they will not come back on and the descent into chaos that would ensue afterward is far too large for even the Velvet Guard to control.”
I looked at the dimming lanterns above. Briefly, I felt terrified that this was it. That we had discovered our plan with the Barons far too late. That I had been brought to the Night Market, far too late.
“I am assuming Ms. Albright has done what we discussed and tucked it somewhere safe?” he was asking.
I only nodded, trying to push down the brief moment of unprecedented fear. “Warden,” I started. “For a place that is supposed to be free of magic, I have seen a lot of magic today.”
He grimaced at the observation. “Yes. You probably have.”
[[Next|Chapter Five B 3]]“I saw the Baron of the Books today,” I told him. “Well, his wife, actually. The Baron didn’t want to show. Though, I’m starting to kind of wonder if she is the actual Baron with how easily she handed over what we needed.”
“An observation I’m sure that has been made before. Though I would not advertise it.” I could see the way he ticked his eyes at a few of the shadows. The message was clear. Too much talk of the Barons, and someone would pick up on it. “Where did you put what was acquired?”
“Hazel has it. I was told that all of you discussed that to be the safest option.”
“For now,” he agreed. Above us, the lights flickered a bit more, the world around us suddenly a shade darker. “I would like to hear more of your meeting but for now I feel it is best to keep it at a minimum.”
A few people nearly bumped into us, apologizing profusely when they saw who was at my side. Gabriel only nodded to them, politely guiding them out of our way.
“A lot of people come out for this festival, huh?”
“It is a celebration of sorts. A way for the people of the Night Market to show their thanks and renew the magic each year.”
“Does it work?”
“I suppose in a way it does. I ere more on the practical side and highly doubt that drunken evenings is what lights the market once more. But it does continue to work year after year, so there is no reason for anyone to think differently.”
“What do you think though?” I asked.
He was quiet for a moment, either taking stock of the state of the festivities, or thinking over my words. “I think that each year, I dread the moment the lights go out,” he said slowly, as if it was an opinion hard to get out.
“Why?” I whispered, tilting my head towards him. I could feel his breath on my cheek.
“Because I am always afraid they will not come back on.”
[[Next|Chapter Five B 3]]“How long are you working for tonight?” I asked. I assumed, with him being the Warden, he probably had to work most of the night.
“It really depends,” he said.
“On?”
“On what happens when the lights go out.”
I looked above me at the dimming lanterns. They were starting to ebb into something soft and unnatural, casting the world around us in a dull glow. “What does that mean?”
“While most are here simply to enjoy their time and partake in the festivities, there have, in the past, been individuals who have wished to take advantage of the momentary dark. I am here to make sure that those advantages are discouraged.” I now noticed just how many weapons he was carrying on him. The entire Velvet Guard was, in fact. It left me with a desire to find my way to Milo and Hazel soon rather than later.
[[Next|Chapter Five B 3]]We were interrupted briefly by a younger recruit, coming up and explaining to Gabriel that there was an illegal game of some sort happening three districts over. By the looks of it, Gabriel was unsurprised by this and merely told the guard to apprehend the youths that were playing and he would take care of them in a moment.
“You’re going to arrest them?” I asked. “For a game?’
“First off, the game they are playing is one in which they bet their life so it is a bit more than ‘a game’. And secondly, we are putting them in holding. An entire district of the market has been cleared for that so I can bring people there without going all the way down to the station, and decide what to do with them.”
I glanced off to where the other guard had run off too. “And what are you going to do with those kids?”
“Probably scare them so they hopefully go running back to their parents.” He had a smile twitch to his upper lip. I got the feeling he enjoyed that bit of his job more than he maybe verbally admitted to. “Now, is there someplace I can escort you to?”
“I’m supposed to meet Hazel and Milo in a little bit. At the carnival district. You wouldn’t happen to know where that is, do you?”
Another guard member came and took Gabriel’s place after a brief nod from the man. “I think this district is under control. I shall escort you to the two of them.”
“I’m fine, really. Direction would be great though.”
But Gabriel was already walking away. “I do not relish the idea of you getting lost. Not on a night like tonight. You are far too important to us, $name. So, please. Humor your Warden.”
With a sigh, I followed.
As we wandered through the Spice District I couldn’t help but notice the booths. They had been changed for the evening. More so than when I first sat down. Awnings were now replaced with multicolored fabric, stretched across support beams to trap the steam from the boiling pots. Small gold bells were tied to chairs and counters, jingling with each person that passed. It coated the district with the sound of delicate chimes. We didn’t linger long there, however. Gabriel veered us off into another alley, where triangular banners were stretched across the passageway, mingling with the dimming lanterns. The ground itself had large hurricane lamps scattered about, lighting the walkway brighter than the sky above.
“They should keep these here all the time,” I mentioned. The alley’s got far darker than what was comfortable.”
“You may think differently once the lanterns are renewed.”
Gesturing for me to walk ahead of him, we emerged from the lanterns and dew speckled alley, to a district that I was almost certain, did not exist before tonight. The noise alone was one that I felt could be heard all the way to the docks. It was a large open square that stretched into the horizon, the walls all lined with brightly lit booths, nearly blinding at first look. Various games were played at each stall, while large poles stood ever third vendor down, trussed up with stuffed animals, bags, hats, and other paraphernalia.
My eyes were wide as I adjusted to the sudden noise and sound. In the distance, I could see some donkeys milling about. A hovering platform of apples and carrots flew above them, while there looked to be some sort of petting zoo with what I assumed were animals, situated off to the side.
“What is this place?” I asked in awe.
“Carnival row.” It was Milo’s voice. Coming up, he slung an arm around Gabriel and grinned at him. “Gabe, you joining us tonight?”
“Remove your hand, Mr. Next.”
“I’ve already been to your holding district tonight. Isn’t there something about double jeopardy? Can’t charge me for the same crime twice?”
“Have you touched the Warden twice tonight?”
“No.”
Gabriel turned to him, his eyes flashing, “Then I can charge you.”
Slowly, Milo took his hand from around Gabriel’s and backed away. I doubted he felt sorry at all.
When Gabriel turned to me, he bowed slightly. “Be safe tonight, $name. The magic of the market can be jarring.”
<<if $pits == "false">>“Thank you for the escort,” I told him. “I hope you get to scare those kids.”
He said nothing as he turned and walked back the way we came.
“Scare children?” Milo asked from just over my shoulder. “So that’s what he’s into.”<<elseif $pits == "true">> I looked at the Warden with a wry smile. “Hope you enjoy scaring small children tonight.” There was little doubt he would respond to the sarcasm. Instead, he turned the way we had come, disappearing into the crowd.
“Scare children?” Milo asked from just over my shoulder. “So that’s what he’s into.”<</if>>
[[Happy Festival, Milo]]
[[Has Hazel gotten here yet?]]
[[Why were you in the holding district already?]]
Turning on my heel, I faced Milo. His face was ruddy, probably already having had a drink or two, and his eyes were bright with laughter. The grin he tossed my way was lopsided and sloppy. “You’ve been having fun tonight,” I observed.
“All of the fun,” he agreed.
“Happy festival, Milo.”
He blinked at me. “Happy festival, $name. We don’t normally say that, but now I think we got to.” Cupping his hands, he turned towards the rest of the obnoxiously loud square. “Happy festival, everyone!” Cheers went up around us as market goers lifted their fists in solidarity. Milo lifted his back.
“As you can see, Milo started the festivities early,” Hazel giggled. She came walking up from behind me with a bag of what looked like string. “Want one?”
“What is it?”
“Strawberry floss.”
“That doesn’t explain what it is,” I told her.
“Oh,” she snorted to herself and I wondered if she too had started some festivities. “It’s strawberries manipulated into long lines of rope, so you can eat it like noodles. I prefer mine in a bag though.”
Milo’s hand plunged into the depths of said bag, pulling out a large handful as he munched on it happily. “It’s pure sugar,” he said.
Again, Hazel snorted, and I realized she wasn’t drunk, just had the giggles from the copious amounts of sugar she had consumed so far.
“So, what do you say $name, here to help me win a cat?” Milo asked.
[[I thought you hated cats]]
[[Why are we trying to win a cat]]
[[Sure! Why not?]]Turning on my heel, I faced Milo. His face was ruddy, probably already having had a drink or two, and his eyes were bright with laughter. The grin he tossed my way was lopsided and sloppy. “You’ve been having fun tonight,” I observed.
“All of the fun,” he agreed.
“Has Hazel gotten here yet?”
“She has. And has dragged me on her cat ride at least a dozen times.” He shuddered at the thought of it. “Believe me, you are dodging a bullet. If she suggests that we go again, tell her you get seasick.”
There was nothing joking about his voice. Genuine fear was behind his eyes, as if he would not be able to endure whatever this ride was for one more second. And he certainly did not want to inflict the pain on me.
“Noted,” I said slowly.
“No, $name. I need you to say it. I need you to say, I get seasick.”
I laughed at the sheer panic on his face. Before I could appease it, Hazel was by my side, having come up from behind with a large bag of what looked like candy.
“You made it,” she proclaimed. Milo was still looking at me, shaking his head back and forth. “Have you had a good festival so far?”
“I have. Ate some food, talked to Gabriel, walked the market a bit.”
“Milo is going to win me a cat,” she proclaimed.
[[I thought you hated cats]]
[[Why are we trying to win a cat]]
[[Sure! Why not?]]Turning on my heel, I faced Milo. His face was ruddy, probably already having had a drink or two, and his eyes were bright with laughter. The grin he tossed my way was lopsided and sloppy. “You’ve been having fun tonight,” I observed.
“All of the fun,” he agreed.
“Why were you in the holding cell?” I asked him with a raised brow. Though, I thought I could potentially guess the reason.
“Why indeed,” he responded. “Unfair treatment, I say. I should sue. Or riot. Or picket their doors.”
“I don’t think that will end well for you.”
“Probably not,” he winked.
“As you can see, Milo started the festivities early,” Hazel giggled. She came walking up from behind me with a bag of what looked like string. “Want one?”
“What is it?”
“Strawberry floss.”
“That doesn’t explain what it is,” I told her.
“Oh,” she snorted to herself and I wondered if she too had started some festivities. “It’s strawberries manipulated into long lines of rope, so you can eat it like noodles. I prefer mine in a bag though.”
Milo’s hand plunged into the depths of said bag, pulling out a large handful as he munched on it happily. “It’s pure sugar,” he said.
Again, Hazel snorted, and I realized she wasn’t drunk, just had the giggles from the copious amounts of sugar she had consumed so far.
“So, what do you say $name, here to help me win a cat?” Milo asked.
[[I thought you hated cats]]
[[Why are we trying to win a cat]]
[[Sure! Why not?]]It was oddly a strange thing to hear come out of Milo’s mouth. “I thought you hated cats.”
“I don’t hate cats,” he said solemnly. “I hate Billows. Who is not a cat, but a demon in disguise.”
Hazel rolled her eyes, eating more of her candy. “You really need to make up with him.”
“Never. Now let’s go win you a damn cat.”
Come to find out, the winning of the cat was tradition. Every year, Hazel would wander the district and look for a stuffed animal cat that she wanted. She would point it out, and it would become Milo’s new goal to win it. Hazel said that his record was three hours at one game. He ended up stealing it when the lanterns went out and running all the way back to the apothecary that night.
As it was, the cat in question was an orange tabby with azure eyes. It was at the very top of a pole and I had to wonder if Hazel had picked it simply, so Milo wouldn’t be able to take the easy way out.
“I’m so glad you came out,” Hazel whispered as we watch Milo try to throw gelatinous beads of water into the narrow neck of a glass bottle. “Belladonna doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
I ducked my head a little. I had almost forgotten she had said no to me.
[[I understand. She had to work]]
[[I don't think she has many friends]]
[[She told me not to fall in love with her]]“Why are we trying to win a cat?” I asked, utterly confused.
Milo put a hand over his heart, stumbling back as if he had been shot. “Why are we trying to win a cat? Why. Are we. Trying to win a cat? Oh, $name. $name, $name, $name. We are trying to win a cat because dearest Hazel desires it. And, on lantern night, I am nothing but her humble servant.”
As he went sauntering off towards the game booths, Hazel leaned towards me. “He does it to prove a point,” she said. “I’m pretty sure most of these booth owners were mean to him at some point in time. He likes showing off his prowess.”
Come to find out, the winning of the cat was tradition. Every year, Hazel would wander the district and look for a stuffed animal cat that she wanted. She would point it out, and it would become Milo’s new goal to win it. Hazel said that his record was three hours at one game. He ended up stealing it when the lanterns went out and running all the way back to the apothecary that night.
As it was, the cat in question was an orange tabby with azure eyes. It was at the very top of a pole and I had to wonder if Hazel had picked it simply, so Milo wouldn’t be able to take the easy way out.
“I’m so glad you came out,” Hazel whispered as we watch Milo try to throw gelatinous beads of water into the narrow neck of a glass bottle. “Belladonna doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
I ducked my head a little. I had almost forgotten she had said no to me.
[[I understand. She had to work]]
[[I don't think she has many friends]]
[[She told me not to fall in love with her]]I had no idea what was going on and as I looked back and forth between the two of them, it was clear that one was drunk, and one was hopped up on sugar. Who was I to take away their fun. “Sure,” I declared. “Why not?”
“Yes!” Milo pumped the air, jumping as high as he could and nearly falling into a very tall woman. When he bumped into her, he tried to put on a suave smile and even followed her for a few steps before she shooed him away.
Come to find out, the winning of the cat was tradition. Every year, Hazel would wander the district and look for a stuffed animal cat that she wanted. She would point it out, and it would become Milo’s new goal to win it. Hazel said that his record was three hours at one game. He ended up stealing it when the lanterns went out and running all the way back to the apothecary that night.
As it was, the cat in question was an orange tabby with azure eyes. It was at the very top of a pole and I had to wonder if Hazel had picked it simply, so Milo wouldn’t be able to take the easy way out.
“I’m so glad you came out,” Hazel whispered as we watch Milo try to throw gelatinous beads of water into the narrow neck of a glass bottle. “Belladonna doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
I ducked my head a little. I had almost forgotten she had said no to me.
[[I understand. She had to work]]
[[I don't think she has many friends]]
[[She told me not to fall in love with her]]The bells rang around us in a loud raucous mockery of what had happened. Standing with Hazel as Milo won a giant stuffed cat, I thought about Belladonna. How easily I forget that I didn’t mean anything to her when I had walked so many alleys with her. When she was one of the first people within the market to make me feel comfortable.
“I mean, I get it,” I told Hazel. “She needed to work. I think I just kind of forgot about who she was.”
“You mean, her being a courtesan?” Hazel asked.
“Yeah. As Milo says, the eyes and ears of the Night Market. Letting me follow her around the last few days has been free work for her. Though I’m sure the information she’s getting from all this will be enough payment alone.”
“Oh, $name, don’t think like that. I don’t think – Belladonna’s not– I mean, she can’t be that heartless and cold.”
“And here it is!” A large stuffed cat was shoved at us. Hazel grabbed it around the soft belly and hugged it to her. Spitting fluff out of her face, she looked at me over the lopsided head. I turned my eyes away from her though. “I interrupted something, didn’t I?” Milo asked, looking between us. “Shit. I can go back and try and win another one,” he offered.
Hazel’s frown with a deep line across her face, but she sighed all the same. “Belladonna will be within the aerial portion of the festival. Three alleys up the never ending staircase.”
I blinked at her.
“Go,” she said, shooing me.
I didn’t wait. Turning, I began walking back out of the carnival district, hearing Milo whisper behind me. “You sure encouraging ?them to stalk Belladonna is going to end well?” Above me, the lanterns began to flicker. I didn’t have a lot of time.
[[Next|Chapter Give B4]]
The bells rang around us in a loud raucous mockery of what had happened. Standing with Hazel as Milo won a giant stuffed cat, I thought about Belladonna. How easily I forget that I didn’t mean anything to her when I had walked so many alleys with her. When she was one of the first people within the market to make me feel comfortable.
“I don’t think she has many friends,” I said slowly. “Me wanting to be around her is causing her to push me away.”
“To be fair,” Hazel said sadly. “I think that’s just what she does. Ever since Gabriel…” Trailing off, Hazel’s eyes went wide.
“Since Gabriel?”
She looked nearly panicked. “I didn’t say that. I didn’t mean it. I meant– what I meant to say was…”
So something had happened between those two. Something that they all knew about and much like Malcolm, rarely discussed.
“And here it is!” A large stuffed cat was shoved at us. Hazel grabbed it around the soft belly and hugged it to her. Spitting fluff out of her face, she looked at me over the lopsided head. I turned my eyes away from her though. “I interrupted something, didn’t I?” Milo asked, looking between us. “Shit. I can go back and try and win another one,” he offered.
Hazel’s frown with a deep line across her face, but she sighed all the same. “Belladonna will be within the aerial portion of the festival. Three alleys up the never ending staircase.”
I blinked at her.
“Go,” she said, shooing me.
I didn’t wait. Turning, I began walking back out of the carnival district, hearing Milo whisper behind me. “You sure encouraging ?them to stalk Belladonna is going to end well?” Above me, the lanterns began to flicker. I didn’t have a lot of time.
[[Next|Chapter Give B4]]
The bells rang around us in a loud raucous mockery of what had happened. Standing with Hazel as Milo won a giant stuffed cat, I thought about Belladonna. How easily I forget that I didn’t mean anything to her when I had walked so many alleys with her. When she was one of the first people within the market to make me feel comfortable.
“She told me not to fall in love with her,” I said, tipping my head up towards the lanterns above. They were so low now that I was sure if I tried, I’d be able to pluck one down from the thin cord they hung on.
“Are you?” Hazel asked.
“Am I what?”
“Falling in love with her.”
Locking eyes with Hazel, I watched as she gazed back at me with open understanding. Falling in love with Belladonna. That wasn’t what I was doing, was it? Not that the woman allowed anyone to get close enough to be able to do that. All I knew, was I enjoyed being around her. She made me feel competent. I didn’t feel as if the task ahead was insurmountable anymore.
“And here it is!” A large stuffed cat was shoved at us. Hazel grabbed it around the soft belly and hugged it to her. Spitting fluff out of her face, she looked at me over the lopsided head. I turned my eyes away from her though. “I interrupted something, didn’t I?” Milo asked, looking between us. “Shit. I can go back and try and win another one,” he offered.
Hazel’s frown with a deep line across her face, but she sighed all the same. “Belladonna will be within the aerial portion of the festival. Three alleys up the never ending staircase.”
I blinked at her.
“Go,” she said, shooing me.
I didn’t wait. Turning, I began walking back out of the carnival district, hearing Milo whisper behind me. “You sure encouraging ?them to stalk Belladonna is going to end well?” Above me, the lanterns began to flicker. I didn’t have a lot of time.
[[Next|Chapter Give B4]]
There was not a clear thought in my head about what I was attempting to do. Hazel’s information had simply surprised me so much that my feet felt like they were acting on their own accord. The lanterns above were growing dim. The people around me were beginning to pulse with a tangible excitement, and I was pushing my way through unfamiliar parts of the district, following a vague bit of direction to find a woman who already told me she did not have time for me this evening.
The never ending staircase, was not, in fact, never ending. To those who climbed it to the top, I’m sure it felt as such but it was a stone staircase that stood a little ways away from the Spice District. I had been to the base of it once to drop off a satchel for Hazel. A group of dark pixies who would rather not be seen, requested it. So at least I was familiar with where I was going. When I stood at the base of the stairs, I took a deep breath. This was going to absolutely kill my thighs.
Within one alleyway up the staircase, I was panting. Dark pathways jutted off from the cracked stairs, launching out to higher platforms and different sectors of the market I had not been yet. Looking upwards, I squinted my eyes, as if to see the third alley Hazel had told me to go to. The stairs themselves were cracked and cut through with shoddy patch jobs. A customer had told me once that about halfway up, you were forced to stop until a lift could retrieve you because an entire portion of the stone had eroded away through the years.
Trudging along, I didn’t let this deter me though. Did I know what I was going to say to Belladonna when I saw her? Absolutely not. Did I even know the motivation I had for appearing in front of her when she was on a job? Even more unclear.
But I was doing it.
Worse case scenario, she threw me down the stairs and I spent a week healing at Hazel’s.
[[Next|Chapter Five B5]]
By the time I reached the third alley, my hands were on my knees, and I was panting. The lanterns strung above brushed against my shoulders, having dipped so low and so dim that I had been sure several times that I was going to trip and fall down the steps. I had passed several people who had given up on whatever journey they were on, lying on the staircase and staring up at the sky. More than once I considered joining them. It would have been one hell of a way to watch the sky go dark.
But I reached the alley all the same and could hear the music winding from within. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I tried to get my heartbeat under control. Above me, a lantern flickered out.
The alley was not made of stone like the other ones. This one was some sort of glass, licked through with molten fire that spread out like spiderwebs across the surface. I could feel the heat coming from them and the images ahead looked hazy. A burst of fire sounded from somewhere and the tinkling of fine crystal rang like bells all around me. When I emerged from the alley, I had to jump back. A woman was strung up in blue silk and had released herself from the platform to dive downwards in a perfect pirouette, her head hanging upside down right in front of my face.
“Welcome,” she purred. Twisting her body, she began to climb back up.
Decadence filled each corner of the district. From the brightly patterned pillows that gathered on the ground, to the silks hanging from the trees. People lazed about, some on plush rugs, others high up in half moon balconies that circled the square itself. High above, several large beams hung, suspended midair. Men and women swayed from their heights, beautiful lines of silk wrapped around their bodies. Each time one of them let go of their fabric, tumbling downwards in a twirl, the audience gasped or cheered. None of them fell, however. Not to the ground. Instead, they wrapped themselves up further, twisting and spinning in a graceful display high above. Like birds, all ready to take flight.
Stepping further into the district, I looked around for Belladonna. Several of the aerialists had taken hold of the lanterns and were spinning with them, causing the light to swim within the crowd, making it hard to see. Instinctively, I turned my gaze up towards the balconies, searching her out somewhere up there.
“Noctine, you don’t suppose these fire dancers are from where Cas is from, do you?”
I twirled around at the familiar voice. Chrysanthemum sat in a private balcony that looked like it was woven from the branches of a tree. Her head rested upon the shoulder of a lavender haired man with pale eyes. The crisp white of his shirt iridescent even in the dimming light of the lanterns and the pearls that adorned the jacket he had laid over the side of the balcony wove across the fabric in an intricate swirl, mimicking the aerialist moves.
“Simply because Casimir enjoys unbearably hot places, does not mean he lives in a volcano, dear.”
Chrysanthemum had a coy smile on her face as she rubbed her nose against her husband's shoulder. “Of course that’s what it means, Noctine. Don’t be silly.”
“You like the cold, and you are not from an arctic region,” he pointed out.
“The castle walls got frigid at night. And, if you remember correctly, I spent quite a bit more time running around your kingdom, than my own, dear husband. It was practically unlivable there.” Noctine did not answer her, but I watched as his fingers came up to twine in the tips of her hair. “Oh, there’s another fire dancer,” she cooed, curling herself closer.
The quick burst of flame blew across the stage far off to my right as large men dipped a fire stick down their throat and breathed it into the night sky. The flames were far brighter than the lanterns themselves at this point. Turning back to Chrysanthemum and her husband, I swallowed thickly. While Chrysanthemum was still watching the show on stage, her husband, Noctine, had me pinned with his unnatural gaze. His eyes were opal and pale, and slit in the center. Somewhere behind me, I could almost feel the long curl of a snake, slinking through the district.
For a moment, I very nearly couldn’t breathe. I felt my heart slow and a measured squeeze pulse against my back. But it was gone as quickly as it came. With his eyes still on mine, he raised one ringed hand and pointed. Belladonna sat three booths away.
I didn’t wait for further instruction or for Chrysanthemum to recognize me. When I passed their booth I saw out of the corner of my eyes how he laid his lips on the crown of her head. Though his gaze never once left me and even after he was gone from my sight, I could still feel his stare on the back of my neck.
[[With a sigh of relief, I approached Belladonna hesitantly]]
[[Getting myself under control, I approached Belladonna]]
[[I didn’t approach Belladonna yet but instead tried to catch her eye]]
Hesitantly, I approached Belladonna. The mere sight of her put me at ease, a sigh of relief uttering from my parted lips. She was dressed to perfection, like normal, her gown tonight a blood-red that matched her lips and dipped down to her navel where she wore a chain of gold. Her hair was done up, high upon her head, and she had one hand rested high upon the thigh of a gentleman with shockingly steel grey hair. The lines of his face were hard and despite the hue of his locks, he looked young. He stank of money and was adorned in a series of gold bangles up each arm, his suit silken and blue. Belladonna was whispering something in his ear and I watched as his hand kneaded her hip.
Now that I was here, the thought that I had been impulsive was screaming in my mind. There was no reason for me to be standing here. I had nothing to say. I didn’t even know what it was that I wanted from her. If I interrupted her now, there was absolutely no way she would praise me for it, or treat me with any sort of respect. Belladonna had made it clear through most of our conversations how she valued her job and the position it put her in within the market. Someone who was supposed to be lying low, showing up to say hi, was probably not on the top of her list in what she was looking for in any sort of friendship. Or any social situation for that matter.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I mentally kicked myself. I had been a fool.
Around me, I heard the fire breathers flip their torches before blowing out another bubble of flame. A dragon formed from the smoke, whistling up towards the sky. And the lights went out.
For a moment, I didn’t understand what had happened. I was trying to walk away from Belladonna without being seen, and a spectral dragon was rising in the air. Then nothing. Absolutely nothing. My breath felt as if it were being sucked from my lungs and my feet were knocked from under me as I began to fall. I clawed out with my hands, trying to gain purchase against anything around me, but my fingers passed through air as if I were made of nothing. I was falling. Falling so far into the dark that I was certain that I was never going to come back out of it.
Then fire bloomed in my chest.
A deep warmth spread, wrapping around my heart and traveling down the length of my arms and legs.
When I opened my eyes again, I was on the flat of my back, a group of people standing above me.
“Are you okay?” I blinked muzzily at a tattooed woman with gold gauges in her ears. She was bent close and had what looked like a medical bag next to her. The back of my head hurt from where it had slammed against the ground. But above me, the sky was bright. It was so very bright. The lanterns had raised high in the air and were like new again, relit for another year. “Hey,” the woman was snapping her fingers in front of my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“$name?” It was Belladonna’s voice that came over the crowd next and the people parted for her. She stood tall above me, the man she was with peering over her shoulder. “$name,” she said softly. “What are you doing here?”
“You know this cretin?” the man she was with said. He had black eyes and paper thin lips. “They ruined the climax of the show,” he said drolly.
Belladonna ignored him as she crouched to my side. “Did something happen?”
[[I just wanted to see you]]
[[I made a mistake. I’m sorry]]
[[I think I was falling…]]Regaining control of my breathing, I approached Belladonna. She was dressed to perfection, like normal, her gown tonight a blood-red that matched her lips and dipped down to her navel where she wore a chain of gold. Her hair was done up, high upon her head, and she had one hand rested high upon the thigh of a gentleman with shockingly steel grey hair. The lines of his face were hard and despite the hue of his locks, he looked young. He stank of money and was adorned in a series of gold bangles up each arm, his suit silken and blue. Belladonna was whispering something in his ear and I watched as his hand kneaded her hip.
I stood just under her balcony now, waiting for her to notice me. I thought if maybe I could catch her eye, she could excuse herself, and we could talk. While I didn’t know what I was planning to say to her, I…
I what?
What was I going to say?
She had made it clear that she did not want me here, and I came anyway. I came and…
“Are you going to move?” My head snapped up, and I looked up at Belladonna in panic. The man next to her was the one who was addressing me. “You are blocking the show.”
Opening my mouth, I moved to respond. Maybe even get enough courage to let him know how rude he was, but behind me, the fire breathers gave a last burst of flame and the lights went out.
For a moment, I didn’t understand what had happened. A spectral dragon was rising in the air, the crowd was taking in an anticipatory breath. Then nothing. Absolutely nothing. My breath felt as if it were being sucked from my lungs and my feet were knocked from under me as I began to fall. I clawed out with my hands, trying to gain purchase against anything around me, but my fingers passed through air as if I were made of nothing. I was falling. Falling so far into the dark that I was certain that I was never going to come back out of it.
Then fire bloomed in my chest.
A deep warmth spread, wrapping around my heart and traveling down the length of my arms and legs.
When I opened my eyes again, I was on the flat of my back, a group of people standing above me.
“Are you okay?” I blinked muzzily at a tattooed woman with gold gauges in her ears. She was bent close and had what looked like a medical bag next to her. The back of my head hurt from where it had slammed against the ground. But above me, the sky was bright. It was so very bright. The lanterns had raised high in the air and were like new again, relit for another year. “Hey,” the woman was snapping her fingers in front of my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“$name?” It was Belladonna’s voice that came over the crowd next and the people parted for her. She stood tall above me, the man she was with peering over her shoulder. “$name,” she said softly. “What are you doing here?”
“You know this cretin?” the man she was with said. He had black eyes and paper thin lips.
Belladonna ignored him as she crouched to my side. “Did something happen?”
[[I just wanted to see you]]
[[I made a mistake. I’m sorry]]
[[I think I was falling…]]
When I felt like I was far enough away from the man with the snake eyes, I slowed my steps. I didn’t necessarily want Belladonna to see me right away. Now that I was here, I was struggling to think of what to even say to her. Peering at the booth, it was clear she was on a job. She was dressed to perfection, like normal, her gown tonight a blood-red that matched her lips and dipped down to her navel where she wore a chain of gold. Her hair was done up, high upon her head, and she had one hand rested high upon the thigh of a gentleman with shockingly steel grey hair. The lines of his face were hard and despite the hue of his locks, he looked young. He stank of money and was adorned in a series of gold bangles up each arm, his suit silken and blue. Belladonna was whispering something in his ear and I watched as his hand kneaded her hip.
Now that I was here, the thought that I had been impulsive was screaming in my mind. There was no reason for me to be standing here. I had nothing to say. I didn’t even know what it was that I wanted from her. If I interrupted her now, there was absolutely no way she would praise me for it, or treat me with any sort of respect. Belladonna had made it clear through most of our conversations how she valued her job and the position it put her in within the market. Someone who was supposed to be lying low, showing up to say hi, was probably not on the top of her list in what she was looking for in any sort of friendship. Or any social situation for that matter.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I mentally kicked myself. I had been a fool.
Around me, I heard the fire breathers flip their torches before blowing out another bubble of flame. A dragon formed from the smoke, whistling up towards the sky. And the lights went out.
For a moment, I didn’t understand what had happened. I was trying to walk away from Belladonna without being seen, and a spectral dragon was rising in the air. Then nothing. Absolutely nothing. My breath felt as if it were being sucked from my lungs and my feet were knocked from under me as I began to fall. I clawed out with my hands, trying to gain purchase against anything around me, but my fingers passed through air as if I were made of nothing. I was falling. Falling so far into the dark that I was certain that I was never going to come back out of it.
Then fire bloomed in my chest.
A deep warmth spread, wrapping around my heart and traveling down the length of my arms and legs.
When I opened my eyes again, I was on the flat of my back, a group of people standing above me.
“Are you okay?” I blinked muzzily at a tattooed woman with gold gauges in her ears. She was bent close and had what looked like a medical bag next to her. The back of my head hurt from where it had slammed against the ground. But above me, the sky was bright. It was so very bright. The lanterns had raised high in the air and were like new again, relit for another year. “Hey,” the woman was snapping her fingers in front of my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“$name?” It was Belladonna’s voice that came over the crowd next and the people parted for her. She stood tall above me, the man she was with peering over her shoulder. “$name,” she said softly. “What are you doing here?”
“You know this cretin?” the man she was with said. He had black eyes and paper thin lips. “They ruined the climax of the show,” he said drolly.
Belladonna ignored him as she crouched to my side. “Did something happen?”
[[I just wanted to see you]]
[[I made a mistake. I’m sorry]]
[[I think I was falling…]]I blinked up at her, feeling my vision tilt to the side. The sneer on the man's face behind her felt like sick rot against me and I wanted to curl up and shy away from whatever was happening to me.
“$name,” Belladonna gently urged. “I need you to speak to me, dear heart.”
“I- I wanted to see you,” I rasped the confession out from my suddenly too dry throat. I didn’t see the use in lying to her now. I just hated how pathetic it all sounded to my own ears. Though, when I said it, I did not see the disdain on her face that I thought I would. Instead, I watched as the corners of her eyes softened, her fingers twitching as if they wished to reach out and touch my own.
“Belladonna, why are you concerning yourself with this creature. It’s clear they were not invited here, nor, by the state of their dress, do they belong.” The man was turned to the side now, looking out over the rest of the square with some sort of knowing smile. Like he had just made the most hilarious joke and expected everyone else to laugh.
Belladonna rose coolly from where she was crouched.
“Torrin, I think that ends our contract for the evening.”
He turned to her, eyes comically wide. “Excuse me.”
“You have ears. Please don’t pretend that your human form does not have the ability to use them.”
The crowd around us began to disperse, the woman who had originally been speaking to me the only one remaining as she helped me sit up.
“You cannot terminate our contact, Belladonna. You are mine for the evening. I bought you.”
Stepping forward, Belladonna grabbed him by the back of his hair, twisting the fistful of grey locks she had and snapping his neck tight to one side. “I would like to make one thing perfectly clear to you. You bought nothing. As of right now, consider the money you spent tonight a donation. One I’ll be sure to give to a cause that you despise. From this point forward, you are blacklisted from me. You do not get to darken my doorstep. You do not get to step foot in the Pleasure District. And if you do, the only reason I will be calling the Warden, is so he can remove your poor, dismembered body, from my premises. Do I make myself clear?” She shoved him away from her, watching as he stumbled.
Bent forward, the man looked up at her with hollow eyes. “Believe me when I say you will regret this.”
“Believe me when I say that you are not the first pathetic excuse for a man who has told me that. But you know what the funny thing is? Not once in my life have I ever regretted putting a piece of trash in its place.” With a clear dismissal, she turned. And for a moment, I thought he was going to lunge at her. I was almost certain he was going to attack her, right in the middle of the square.
Three small black needles pierced his skin though, right at his jugular. He fell to the floor instantly.
“That takes care of that,” Belladonna said to whoever was listening before kneeling next to me. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”
Before I could say anything, she had me wrapped in her arms and a flutter of wings echoed in my ears as the shadows enveloped us.
Blinking, I was in my bed.
[[How did you do that?]]
[[That guy was a prick]]
[[I am so sorry for screwing up your night]]I blinked up at her, feeling my vision tilt to the side. The sneer on the man's face behind her felt like sick rot against me and I wanted to curl up and shy away from whatever was happening to me.
“$name,” Belladonna gently urged. “I need you to speak to me, dear heart.”
“I made a mistake,” I rasped. My throat was suddenly far too dry and the world around me felt heated in a way that it had not before. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.” I had gotten caught up in– in something. What, I wasn’t entirely sure. I had just thought if I came here, something would have been different. Or maybe I would have at least understood why she had said what she had.
“Belladonna, why are you concerning yourself with this creature. It’s clear they were not invited here, nor, by the state of their dress, do they belong.” The man was turned to the side now, looking out over the rest of the square with some sort of knowing smile. Like he had just made the most hilarious joke and expected everyone else to laugh.
Belladonna rose coolly from where she was crouched.
“Torrin, I think that ends our contract for the evening.”
He turned to her, eyes comically wide. “Excuse me.”
“You have ears. Please don’t pretend that your human form does not have the ability to use them.”
The crowd around us began to disperse, the woman who had originally been speaking to me the only one remaining as she helped me sit up.
“You cannot terminate our contact, Belladonna. You are mine for the evening. I bought you.”
Stepping forward, Belladonna grabbed him by the back of his hair, twisting the fistful of grey locks she had and snapping his neck tight to one side. “I would like to make one thing perfectly clear to you. You bought nothing. As of right now, consider the money you spent tonight a donation. One I’ll be sure to give to a cause that you despise. From this point forward, you are blacklisted from me. You do not get to darken my doorstep. You do not get to step foot in the Pleasure District. And if you do, the only reason I will be calling the Warden, is so he can remove your poor, dismembered body, from my premises. Do I make myself clear?” She shoved him away from her, watching as he stumbled.
Bent forward, the man looked up at her with hollow eyes. “Believe me when I say you will regret this.”
“Believe me when I say that you are not the first pathetic excuse for a man who has told me that. But you know what the funny thing is? Not once in my life have I ever regretted putting a piece of trash in its place.” With a clear dismissal, she turned. And for a moment, I thought he was going to lunge at her. I was almost certain he was going to attack her, right in the middle of the square.
Three small black needles pierced his skin though, right at his jugular. He fell to the floor instantly.
“That takes care of that,” Belladonna said to whoever was listening before kneeling next to me. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”
Before I could say anything, she had me wrapped in her arms and a flutter of wings echoed in my ears as the shadows enveloped us.
Blinking, I was in my bed.
[[How did you do that?]]
[[That guy was a prick]]
[[I am so sorry for screwing up your night]]I blinked up at her, feeling my vision tilt to the side. The sneer on the man's face behind her felt like sick rot against me and I wanted to curl up and shy away from whatever was happening to me.
“$name,” Belladonna gently urged. “I need you to speak to me, dear heart.”
“I,” I swallowed the bile in my throat. “I think I was falling. I don’t– everything was black and then there was this pain in my chest and…”
“Belladonna, why are you concerning yourself with this creature. It’s clear they were not invited here, nor, by the state of their dress, do they belong.” The man was turned to the side now, looking out over the rest of the square with some sort of knowing smile. Like he had just made the most hilarious joke and expected everyone else to laugh.
Belladonna rose coolly from where she was crouched.
“Torrin, I think that ends our contract for the evening.”
He turned to her, eyes comically wide. “Excuse me.”
“You have ears. Please don’t pretend that your human form does not have the ability to use them.”
The crowd around us began to disperse, the woman who had originally been speaking to me the only one remaining as she helped me sit up.
“You cannot terminate our contact, Belladonna. You are mine for the evening. I bought you.”
Stepping forward, Belladonna grabbed him by the back of his hair, twisting the fistful of grey locks she had and snapping his neck tight to one side. “I would like to make one thing perfectly clear to you. You bought nothing. As of right now, consider the money you spent tonight a donation. One I’ll be sure to give to a cause that you despise. From this point forward, you are blacklisted from me. You do not get to darken my doorstep. You do not get to step foot in the Pleasure District. And if you do, the only reason I will be calling the Warden, is so he can remove your poor, dismembered body, from my premises. Do I make myself clear?” She shoved him away from her, watching as he stumbled.
Bent forward, the man looked up at her with hollow eyes. “Believe me when I say you will regret this.”
“Believe me when I say that you are not the first pathetic excuse for a man who has told me that. But you know what the funny thing is? Not once in my life have I ever regretted putting a piece of trash in its place.” With a clear dismissal, she turned. And for a moment, I thought he was going to lunge at her. I was almost certain he was going to attack her, right in the middle of the square.
Three small black needles pierced his skin though, right at his jugular. He fell to the floor instantly.
“That takes care of that,” Belladonna said to whoever was listening before kneeling next to me. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”
Before I could say anything, she had me wrapped in her arms and a flutter of wings echoed in my ears as the shadows enveloped us.
Blinking, I was in my bed.
[[How did you do that?]]
[[That guy was a prick]]
[[I am so sorry for screwing up your night]]As my head hit the pillow, I looked around at the familiar room I now kept at Hazel’s. We hadn’t walked through the market but had somehow moved through the shadows with nothing more than the span of a blink.
Next to me, Belladonna was straightening the comforter, the window behind her shutting with a whisper and a dark tendril dissipating into the corners of the room. She looked out of place in my humble home. The patchwork style that adorned most of Hazel’s apothecary was one that did not coincide with Belladonna’s aesthetic whatsoever. I almost expected her not to sit on anything, in fear of the room tainting her somehow.
“How did you do that?” I asked her, my eyes still looking at the window and how the latch was now firmly in place.
“Do what? Straighten a comforter?”
“No. Get us here.” She looked at me patiently, as if I were supposed to have already known the answer. “Vampire?” I said. It didn’t feel like the best explanation, but it looked as if it were going to be the only one that she was going to give me.
“Did you think that our only ability was to drink blood?”
“After what I saw you do tonight, I’m always going to answer no to that. Those needles in that man's skin. That was you, wasn’t it?”
She stared at me evenly. “They were not needles. They were claws.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or be terrified that such a creature was sitting at the edge of my bed, having tucked me in for the night.
“How are you feeling?” She edged herself down at the corner of my bed, her fingers fluttering through my hair. “You fell hard.”
I could already feel the bump that was forming on the back of my head. I was pretty sure that the ground beneath me had been slate. “Something happened when the lights went out,” I told her. “Something– It’s hard to describe. It was like falling and burning all at once? Nothing led up to it. I felt fine before it had happened. Felt like an idiot but I felt fine.”
She frowned. “Where did it burn?”
“My chest.”
Softly, her cool fingers trailed down, the tips of them resting against my beating heart. “The magic of the Night Market effects some people adversely,” she said. Though, it was clear by her tone, that she didn’t think that was what had happened. But in true Belladonna fashion, she was not going to say anything more unless she was absolutely sure. “Dear heart, did you come to the district tonight to find me? And let me preface this with the knowledge that a vampire can smell if you lie.”
“Is that true?” I asked.
She raised a delicate brow at me, her hand returning to her lap.
I slumped back against my pillow. “I did.”
“I wish you had not.”
“I know.”
The silence that stretched between us was long and painful. Downstairs, I could hear the door to the apothecary open, signalling Hazel’s return. Perhaps Milo’s as well.
“Are you going to be alright here alone?” she asked me.
[[I’ll be alright]]
[[Stay]]
[[I don't want to be alone]]As my head hit the pillow, I looked around at the familiar room I now kept at Hazel’s. We hadn’t walked through the market but had somehow moved through the shadows with nothing more than the span of a blink.
Next to me, Belladonna was straightening the comforter, the window behind her shutting with a whisper and a dark tendril dissipating into the corners of the room. She looked out of place in my humble home. The patchwork style that adorned most of Hazel’s apothecary was one that did not coincide with Belladonna’s aesthetic whatsoever. I almost expected her not to sit on anything, in fear of the room tainting her somehow.
“The man you were with was a prick,” I told her, holding nothing back from my biting tone. It amused her, in the end, and she turned a fond smile towards me.
“He is,” she agreed. “He has also been humbled among all his peers and blacklisted from sleeping with another woman again. The next one he beds, will have to actually like him, which I assure you, having spent some time with him, is a near impossible feat.”
I shifted beneath the blanket, feeling my muscles protest. “Why take the contract to begin with? You don’t need money.”
Belladonna was far from suffering and I doubted she took any job for the sake of the bill alone. “He is a Duke of an underworld that I was looking to form trade connections with.”
“Oh,” I breathed.
She shrugged it off, though the disappointment was clear. “No matter. I’ll figure something else out. I am happy to be rid of that foul man. He had a penchant for making the people around him feel bad through a pheromone he secretes. I suspect, your injuries, feel far worse due to him.”
I had felt blinded by pain back in the district, my emotions skittering around my skull with knife like precision.
“How are you feeling?” She edged herself down at the corner of my bed, her fingers fluttering through my hair. “You fell hard.”
I could already feel the bump that was forming on the back of my head. I was pretty sure that the ground beneath me had been slate. “Something happened when the lights went out,” I told her. “Something– It’s hard to describe. It was like falling and burning all at once? Nothing led up to it. I felt fine before it had happened. Felt like an idiot but I felt fine.”
She frowned. “Where did it burn?”
“My chest.”
Softly, her cool fingers trailed down, the tips of them resting against my beating heart. “The magic of the Night Market effects some people adversely,” she said. Though, it was clear by her tone, that she didn’t think that was what had happened. But in true Belladonna fashion, she was not going to say anything more unless she was absolutely sure. “Dear heart, did you come to the district tonight to find me? And let me preface this with the knowledge that a vampire can smell if you lie.”
“Is that true?” I asked.
She raised a delicate brow at me, her hand returning to her lap.
I slumped back against my pillow. “I did.”
“I wish you had not.”
“I know.”
The silence that stretched between us was long and painful. Downstairs, I could hear the door to the apothecary open, signalling Hazel’s return. Perhaps Milo’s as well.
“Are you going to be alright here alone?” she asked me.
[[I’ll be alright]]
[[Stay]]
[[I don't want to be alone]]As my head hit the pillow, I looked around at the familiar room I now kept at Hazel’s. We hadn’t walked through the market but had somehow moved through the shadows with nothing more than the span of a blink.
Next to me, Belladonna was straightening the comforter, the window behind her shutting with a whisper and a dark tendril dissipating into the corners of the room. She looked out of place in my humble home. The patchwork style that adorned most of Hazel’s apothecary was one that did not coincide with Belladonna’s aesthetic whatsoever. I almost expected her not to sit on anything, in fear of the room tainting her somehow.
“I’m sorry I screwed up your night,” I told her.
The room was dark, and I wasn’t quite certain, but I thought she rolled her eyes. “Torrin, ruined my night. You gave me a wonderful excuse to make sure his hand never graced my thighs again.”
I winced a little at that and the blasé way that she said it all.
“How are you feeling?” She edged herself down at the corner of my bed, her fingers fluttering through my hair. “You fell hard.”
I could already feel the bump that was forming on the back of my head. I was pretty sure that the ground beneath me had been slate. “Something happened when the lights went out,” I told her. “Something– It’s hard to describe. It was like falling and burning all at once? Nothing led up to it. I felt fine before it had happened. Felt like an idiot but I felt fine.”
She frowned. “Where did it burn?”
“My chest.”
Softly, her cool fingers trailed down, the tips of them resting against my beating heart. “The magic of the Night Market effects some people adversely,” she said. Though, it was clear by her tone, that she didn’t think that was what had happened. But in true Belladonna fashion, she was not going to say anything more unless she was absolutely sure. “Dear heart, did you come to the district tonight to find me? And let me preface this with the knowledge that a vampire can smell if you lie.”
“Is that true?” I asked.
She raised a delicate brow at me, her hand returning to her lap.
I slumped back against my pillow. “I did.”
“I wish you had not.”
“I know.”
The silence that stretched between us was long and painful. Downstairs, I could hear the door to the apothecary open, signalling Hazel’s return. Perhaps Milo’s as well.
“Are you going to be alright here alone?” she asked me.
[[I’ll be alright]]
[[Stay]]
[[I don't want to be alone]]Feeling the grit sting my eyes, I blinked rapidly. I had a feeling I would be going to sleep soon, whether I wanted to or not. “I’ll be alright,” I told her. “Go enjoy the rest of the festival.”
Rising, it looked as if Belladonna was intending to do just that. She curled the comforter beneath my chin and fluffed my pillow a bit. I could smell the violets when she leaned forward and the vague coppery scent of blood. When she straightened again, it was to go sit in the frayed golden chair across the room. The one with the stains and the loose spring.
“You’re staying?” I asked.
“Sleep, $name,” she commanded. Her voice was hypnotic and settled over me in a soothing, cool embrace. At that moment, I felt more comforted than I had in a long while and wondered if that was an effect that was just innately Belladonna.
“I thought vampires couldn’t enter into a room unless they are invited,” I murmured, eyes falling shut.
The last thing I heard before falling asleep was the unladylike snort and the swish of wings as the candles on my dresser were blown out. “So pretty,” she said. “And yet so very naive.”
I was asleep before I could respond.
[[Chapter Six]]Reaching out, I touched the hand that rest near my hip. It was cool beneath my heated skin. “Stay,” I requested.
Her golden eyes stared down at me, a deeper shade than I had seen them, edged in crimson. Beneath my palm, I could feel her fingers twitch and while she looked like finely painted porcelain, there was emotion lingering behind her eyes. I just couldn’t tell what kind it was.
“For a moment,” she conceded. “Only to make sure you do not have a concussion.” I didn’t tell her that Hazel could have done the same thing. That she would have gladly watched over me for the night.
I felt my eyes grow heavy. Whether it was the day's events that had finally gotten to me or the magic that had shot through me like an arrow, I didn’t know. But, back in my bedroom, with Belladonna still perched at the edge of my bed, I felt myself begin to fade. There was safety in this room. It was blanketing me and helping ease me into dreamland.
“Sleep, $name,” I heard Belladonna say. Her voice was hypnotic, and I had no choice but to follow its command.
“I thought vampires couldn’t enter into a room unless they are invited,” I murmured, eyes falling shut.
The last thing I heard before falling asleep was the unladylike snort as a hand brushed against my cheeks. “So pretty,” she said. “And yet so very naive.”
I was asleep before I could respond.
[[Chapter Six]]Feeling the grit sting my eyes, I blinked rapidly. I had a feeling I would be going to sleep soon, whether I wanted to or not. And while I wanted to be the kind of person who was strong, who dismissed her and said that I would clearly be fine, a bigger part of me wanted to reach out and take her hand. To seek her out in the darkness just for the sheer comfort of knowing someone else would still be there.
“I don’t want to be alone,” I confessed, my voice a crack through the room.
Her expression didn’t change as he stared at me, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Beneath my palm, I could feel her fingers twitch and while she looked like finely painted porcelain, there was emotion lingering behind her eyes. I just couldn’t tell what kind it was.
“Then alone you should not be,” she conceded.
I felt my eyes grow heavy. Whether it was the day's events that had finally gotten to me or the magic that had shot through me like an arrow, I didn’t know. But, back in my bedroom, with Belladonna still perched at the edge of my bed, I felt myself begin to fade. There was safety in this room. It was blanketing me and helping ease me into dreamland.
“Sleep, $name,” I heard Belladonna say. Her voice was hypnotic, and I had no choice but to follow its command.
“I thought vampires couldn’t enter into a room unless they are invited,” I murmured, eyes falling shut.
The last thing I heard before falling asleep was the unladylike snort as a hand brushed against my cheeks. “So pretty,” she said. “And yet so very naive.”
I was asleep before I could respond.
[[Chapter Six]]“I think really well,” I told her. “I didn’t see the Baron, but I got the magic all the same. I’ll take that as a success.”
Hazel frowned. “What do you mean you didn’t meet the Baron? I thought Belladonna had it all set up?”
“She did. I met with his wife.”
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized.
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. The idea of having little bits of the Baron’s power in my pocket felt a bit like I was a walking target. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most able to protect these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t want it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I now didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes of the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “I was thinking about asking Milo if he would like to go with me,” I said.
“Oh really?” she gave me that knowing smile. <<if $miloro == "true">>The same one she had tossed me last night.<</if>> “What’s all going on there?” she asked coyly, trying not to sound like she was desperately searching for any little detail.
“We haven’t really talked about it,” I told her. <<if $miloro == "true">> I felt like something had shifted between us last night. Something significant. But I couldn’t be sure. Mainly, I just knew at this point that I wanted more.
“You’re going to have to force a conversation out of him,” Hazel said. “Milo is not good about expressing his feelings. Not without getting him drunk.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, amused.<<elseif $relationship == "false">> I hadn’t really said much to him on the subject at all. But maybe there was something there? Maybe we were just friends. Maybe I was reading way too much into things and we were nothing more than acquaintances who were now being forced to work with each other.
“Do you like him though? Not that I’m pressuring you or anything. He’s my best friend but I respect boundaries.”
I laughed a little at the concern coloring her voice. “I don’t hate him, if that’s what you are asking.”<</if>>
“If you want to find him, we always meet up at the carnival square during festival. It’s a little ways past the Spice District. I doubt you’d miss it. It gets very loud.”
“Carnival?” I rolled the unfamiliar word across my tongue.
“Think bright lights, cheap toys, and lots of bells.” The way she said it sounded unappealing, and yet she looked all too excited about the prospect.
“How about I wait for you and we can go together?”
Despite this making the most amount of sense, she waved me off. “I have a few more things to do here and it is your day off. Go. Meet up with Milo. Have some fun. You certainly deserve it after putting yourself out there today.”
Going out and exploring the market during a celebration didn’t sound like the worst way to spend my evening. “I’ll see you there?”
“Very soon. There’s just something down by the creek I want to check before the lanterns go out.”
I didn’t see a lot of point in arguing with her. Hazel could be very stubborn when she put her mind to something and while part of me wondered if I should wait anyway, she probably also needed some time alone. I doubted with everything coming up about her brother lately, she was doing exceedingly well. Maybe we all needed to participate in this festival tonight.
[[Next|Chapter Five M 3]]
“I have no clue,” I said with a small sigh. “I didn’t even meet the Baron. I met his wife.”
“His wife? He has a wife?”
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized.
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. The idea of having little bits of the Baron’s power in my pocket felt a bit like I was a walking target. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most able to protect these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t want it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I now didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes of the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “I was thinking about asking Milo if he would like to go with me,” I said.
“Oh really?” she gave me that knowing smile. <<if $miloro == "true">>The same one she had tossed me last night.<</if>> “What’s all going on there?” she asked coyly, trying not to sound like she was desperately searching for any little detail.
“We haven’t really talked about it,” I told her. <<if $miloro == "true">> I felt like something had shifted between us last night. Something significant. But I couldn’t be sure. Mainly, I just knew at this point that I wanted more.
“You’re going to have to force a conversation out of him,” Hazel said. “Milo is not good about expressing his feelings. Not without getting him drunk.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, amused.<<elseif $relationship == "false">> I hadn’t really said much to him on the subject at all. But maybe there was something there? Maybe we were just friends. Maybe I was reading way too much into things and we were nothing more than acquaintances who were now being forced to work with each other.
“Do you like him though? Not that I’m pressuring you or anything. He’s my best friend but I respect boundaries.”
I laughed a little at the concern coloring her voice. “I don’t hate him, if that’s what you are asking.”<</if>>
“If you want to find him, we always meet up at the carnival square during festival. It’s a little ways past the Spice District. I doubt you’d miss it. It gets very loud.”
“Carnival?” I rolled the unfamiliar word across my tongue.
“Think bright lights, cheap toys, and lots of bells.” The way she said it sounded unappealing, and yet she looked all too excited about the prospect.
“How about I wait for you and we can go together?”
Despite this making the most amount of sense, she waved me off. “I have a few more things to do here and it is your day off. Go. Meet up with Milo. Have some fun. You certainly deserve it after putting yourself out there today.”
Going out and exploring the market during a celebration didn’t sound like the worst way to spend my evening. “I’ll see you there?”
“Very soon. There’s just something down by the creek I want to check before the lanterns go out.”
I didn’t see a lot of point in arguing with her. Hazel could be very stubborn when she put her mind to something and while part of me wondered if I should wait anyway, she probably also needed some time alone. I doubted with everything coming up about her brother lately, she was doing exceedingly well. Maybe we all needed to participate in this festival tonight.
[[Next|Chapter Five M 3]]
"I learned today that the Baron of the books is a snake."
"Fun," Hazel chirped.
"And that he's married."
Hazel's eyes went wide then, whipping her head towards me. "He has a wife?"
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized.
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. The idea of having little bits of the Baron’s power in my pocket felt a bit like I was a walking target. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most able to protect these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t want it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I now didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes of the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “I was thinking about asking Milo if he would like to go with me,” I said.
“Oh really?” she gave me that knowing smile. <<if $miloro == "true">>The same one she had tossed me last night.<</if>> “What’s all going on there?” she asked coyly, trying not to sound like she was desperately searching for any little detail.
“We haven’t really talked about it,” I told her. <<if $miloro == "true">> I felt like something had shifted between us last night. Something significant. But I couldn’t be sure. Mainly, I just knew at this point that I wanted more.
“You’re going to have to force a conversation out of him,” Hazel said. “Milo is not good about expressing his feelings. Not without getting him drunk.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, amused.<<elseif $relationship == "false">> I hadn’t really said much to him on the subject at all. But maybe there was something there? Maybe we were just friends. Maybe I was reading way too much into things and we were nothing more than acquaintances who were now being forced to work with each other.
“Do you like him though? Not that I’m pressuring you or anything. He’s my best friend but I respect boundaries.”
I laughed a little at the concern coloring her voice. “I don’t hate him, if that’s what you are asking.”<</if>>
“If you want to find him, we always meet up at the carnival square during festival. It’s a little ways past the Spice District. I doubt you’d miss it. It gets very loud.”
“Carnival?” I rolled the unfamiliar word across my tongue.
“Think bright lights, cheap toys, and lots of bells.” The way she said it sounded unappealing, and yet she looked all too excited about the prospect.
“How about I wait for you and we can go together?”
Despite this making the most amount of sense, she waved me off. “I have a few more things to do here and it is your day off. Go. Meet up with Milo. Have some fun. You certainly deserve it after putting yourself out there today.”
Going out and exploring the market during a celebration didn’t sound like the worst way to spend my evening. “I’ll see you there?”
“Very soon. There’s just something down by the creek I want to check before the lanterns go out.”
I didn’t see a lot of point in arguing with her. Hazel could be very stubborn when she put her mind to something and while part of me wondered if I should wait anyway, she probably also needed some time alone. I doubted with everything coming up about her brother lately, she was doing exceedingly well. Maybe we all needed to participate in this festival tonight.
[[Next|Chapter Five M 3]]
Milo was drinking kafe when I found him. The lanterns above were swaying with the slight breeze, flickering a deep amber that set his hair into a golden hue of soft spun wheat. He was leaning forward on his stool, talking to the woman behind the counter and laughing at something she was saying. By his side was a pile of what looked like rags, all of which were torn and frayed, but somehow still elegant. Perhaps it was simply the lighting. I could see their counterparts strung up around the counter, as if these were the forgotten scrapes of multicolored flags that didn’t get up in time.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite person within the market,” Milo said with a grin. It was lopsided and easy tonight. Though upon hearing it, the woman before the counter clucked her tongue at him before moving on to serve the next customer. “Streets are pretty, right?”
They had been decorated. In a blink of an eye it seemed as if the normal appearance of the Spice District was suddenly so much more ornate. Lavish strips of magenta and gold hung over the steaming expanses of the stalls. The streets were coated in a fine azure dust and tied around every pole, were gold bells that rang with the vibrations of the passing patrons. It was certainly a special night. Not just to some, but to all that were attending. Smiles were quicker to spread and laughter rang like music through the streets.
Sitting next to Milo, I tilted my head to the side. Beneath the rustic counter his leg was bouncing up and down, foot tipping back and forth on the bottom rung of his stool. “Too much kafe?” I asked.
He laughed. It sounded high-pitched and thready. “It was either that or some ale and the last time I began drinking ale this early?” he let out a low whistle. “It was not a pretty sight. Woke up and thought the market hadn’t relit. Turns out I was in a holding cell and the candle burnt out.”
[[Yeah. That sounds like you]]
[[Are you okay?|Are you okay M]]
[[How many times have you been arrested?]]I laughed at that, picturing a hungover Milo in those cells so clearly. “Yeah. That sounds a lot like you.”
“Doesn’t it?” His head was resting on his hand as he regarded me. There was something pinched at the corners of his eyes and I couldn’t quite tell if he was lying and had actually had something to drink already or was desperately in need of it. Either way, Milo looked vaguely strung out.
Leaning forward, he wiped a hand over his face. “Sorry. It was a long day. Had a job that I had to do that got to me a bit.”
He hadn’t spoken of the kind of work that he did. Other than being a part-time thief. I hadn’t realized he was working currently, however.
“Did you want to talk about it?” I asked.
He shook his head, eyes wild as they looked up and down the streets. Like he was being hunted. “I would really love not to talk about it, actually. Forget about all of it.”
“That bad?”
His fingers drummed on the counter, debating with how much he could actually tell me. “It’s ongoing,” he said, looking at me from beneath his lashes. A secret that he didn’t want others to hear. “I– I’m in over my head with it. Don’t quite know what to do.”
“Are you in danger?” I asked, suddenly feeling wary.
“I’m always in a bit of danger, darlin’,” he said, picking at a crack in the wood. There was so much bitterness to his words. “But, no. I’m not worried about me in this situation. I can take care of myself.” Drumming his fingers in a staccato rhythm he rose from the barstool. “It’s Lantern Festival,” he said. “Not the time to talk about work.” Looking around, I watched as he rolled his shoulders, shedding whatever his worry had been. “Where’s Hazel? I thought she’d be coming with you. What are you doing here alone?"
[[I came to be here with you]]
[[I came to experience the festival]]
[[Hazel will be along shortly]]Tipping my head to the side, I observed him carefully. He looked strung out. Like he hadn’t slept the night before. <<if $miloro == "true">> We had been out late, dancing and laughing, our foreheads pressed together as we breathed each other's air. But he did not look like the man I had talked with in the stone nook. There was an ease to that man. An honesty. Now, he looked hunted. Like time was pressing in on him and beating him down.<</if>>
“How many times have you been arrested?” I asked curiously.
Milo snorted. “Far too many to remember. Used to keep a tally, but the rains washed it away.”
“Where are you keeping a tally that the rains washed it away?”
“My roof leaks. Has for about twenty years.” Leaning forward, he wiped a hand over his face. “Sorry. It was a long day. Had a job that I had to do that got to me a bit.”
He hadn’t spoken of the kind of work that he did. Other than being a part-time thief. I hadn’t realized he was working currently, however.
“Did you want to talk about it?” I asked.
He shook his head, eyes wild as they looked up and down the streets. Like he was being hunted. “I would really love not to talk about it, actually. Forget about all of it.”
“That bad?”
His fingers drummed on the counter, debating with how much he could actually tell me. “It’s ongoing,” he said, looking at me from beneath his lashes. A secret that he didn’t want others to hear. “I– I’m in over my head with it. Don’t quite know what to do.”
“Are you in danger?” I asked, suddenly feeling wary.
“I’m always in a bit of danger, darlin’,” he said, picking at a crack in the wood. There was so much bitterness to his words. “But, no. I’m not worried about me in this situation. I can take care of myself.” Drumming his fingers in a staccato rhythm he rose from the barstool. “It’s Lantern Festival,” he said. “Not the time to talk about work.” Looking around, I watched as he rolled his shoulders, shedding whatever his worry had been. “Where’s Hazel? I thought she’d be coming with you. What are you doing here alone?"
[[I came to be here with you]]
[[I came to experience the festival]]
[[Hazel will be along shortly]]“I came to be here with you,” I told him. He didn’t quite wince, but I could see something flicker across his expression. He downed the rest of his kafe in one go and slammed the mug harshly on the counter. It caught the ire of the stall owner as she stared at him through a narrow gaze. He grinned at her sheepishly, pulling out an extra few bits to place on her counter.
“Neve, one day you are going to laugh,” he said. “I promise you that.”
“Not because of you, Milo Next.” Neve grabbed at the money, counting it and holding it up to the light. She tossed three bills back and looked at him expectantly. Milo already had dug out the extra coin. These not fake.
“Well,” he said, turning to me. “Let me just assure you that you have found the life of the party, despite what Neve thinks. I mean, I am practically a connoisseur of such things. Life of the party at these little get togethers.”
He held his arm out in a flourish, nearly knocking into a group of individuals before dancing out of the way. They tossed him a dirty look, but he only winked at them in return.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding out an arm.
Something was off. I could feel it like a heat at the base of my skull. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked slowly.
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
[[You seem manic]]
[[You’re acting weird]]
[[Nothing]]“I wanted to see what this festival was all about,” I told him. It didn’t stop me from looking him over. As if he would have some outward display as to what was going on. “I didn’t even know about it until today, so I thought it wasn’t that important, but by the looks of it, this entire evening looks like a pretty big deal.”
“Most things in the Night Market are a big deal. At least to some,” he said with a full laugh. Downing the rest of his kafe in one go, Milo slammed the mug harshly on the counter. It caught the ire of the stall owner as she stared at him through a narrow gaze. He grinned at her sheepishly, pulling out an extra few bits to place on her counter.
“Neve, one day you are going to laugh,” he said. “I promise you that.”
“Not because of you, Milo Next.” Neve grabbed at the money, counting it and holding it up to the light. She tossed three bills back and looked at him expectantly. Milo already had dug out the extra coin. These not fake.
“Well,” he said, turning to me. “Let me just assure you that you have found the life of the party, despite what Neve thinks. I mean, I am practically a connoisseur of such things. Life of the party at these little get togethers.”
He held his arm out in a flourish, nearly knocking into a group of individuals before dancing out of the way. They tossed him a dirty look, but he only winked at them in return.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding out an arm.
Something was off. I could feel it like a heat at the base of my skull. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked slowly.
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
[[You seem manic]]
[[You’re acting weird]]
[[Nothing]]“Hazel said she had to take care of a few things but that she would be along soon.”
“What did she have to take care of? I stopped by earlier. Shop looked immaculate. Better than I’ve seen her in ages, even.” It doubted that but it was one of those big stories that Milo liked to tell. Just his way of speech.
I shrugged. “She didn’t really say. Something that had to do with the creek? I don’t know. I didn’t press. I wanted to come see what this festival was all about.”
“Well,” he said, turning to me. “Let me just assure you that you have found the life of the party. I mean, I am practically a connoisseur of such things. Life of the party at these little get togethers.”
He held his arm out in a flourish, nearly knocking into a group of individuals before dancing out of the way. They tossed him a dirty look, but he only winked at them in return.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding out an arm.
Something was off. I could feel it like a heat at the base of my skull. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked slowly.
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
[[You seem manic]]
[[You’re acting weird]]
[[Nothing]]“You just seem a little bit manic from the last time I saw you.” With the revelation that the market was dying, I wondered how much of that stress was getting to him. How much it would get to us all. It was weird walking these streets, knowing that it could all end tomorrow.
“Kafe makes me jittery and I’m addicted to the stuff. Now, come on. You came here to spend some time with me, so let’s spend some time together. Get to know this world you’re supposed to be saving, yeah? Got to have a reason to want to save it, after all.”
I nodded a little but still looked at him suspiciously. <<if $miloro == "true">>If not a little hurt. <</if>>Something wasn’t right. “Hazel wanted us to wait for her,” I told him. Maybe I had been an idiot to come on ahead.
“At the carnival square, right? It’s where we always meet.” He was already walking as he spoke, tossing his words over his shoulder. “Ton of games there. It’s Hazel’s favorite place. I’ll try to win her a stuffed cat or something. Maybe then she’ll replace Billows.” He was halfway down the street before I could even slide off my stool and I struggled to catch up with him.
There were several more alleys than I remembered in this area of the market. New ones jutted off from behind stalls that had been shoved aside to allow access. They were smaller. Narrow little passages that looked like they had been carved within the world specifically for this event. Milo slipped down one, turning to his side to allow a celebratory group to pass us. I noticed they were all dressed in their own type of finery, bags of heady smelling spices clutched in their hands, along with cheese cloth sacks of roasted pine nuts.
In the distance, I could hear the loud ringing of bells. They weren’t like the ones that were scattered around the stalls, but loud gongs that bordered on obnoxious in nature. They rang out in time to a scatter of artificial lights. Not like the lanterns above but ones that were enchanted. Hazel had told me they could be bought for cheap down at the budget quarter. She had three of them in her tool shed. Half the time they didn’t work.
Emerging from the narrow path we were on, I squinted a little. Stalls were shoved up against stone walls like in most of the other districts I had seen, but these all seemed to be boasting some sort of game, the winner of which would receive a prize that was hanging from the cheaply painted poles scattered every third booth or so.
“Isn’t it great?” Milo asked, rocking on his feet. The lights from the games cut his face into several quadrants of multicolored patches. They highlighted the stress lines at the corner of each eye. “Come on,” he told me. I noticed that unlike before, he didn’t reach out to touch me. From day one, Milo had been a tactile guy. One that gave out his hand freely. But now... “Let’s get us some tickets and start playing.”
[[Next|Chapter Five M4]]
“You’re acting a little odd,” I pointed out. It was clear that something wasn’t right in the simple way he stood. It was as if he couldn’t stand in one place for too long, his feet instead in a continuous dance across the cobblestone streets.
“Lot of energy today. Like you said. Kafe. Now, come on. You came here to spend some time with me, so let’s spend some time together. Get to know this world you’re supposed to be saving, yeah? Got to have a reason to want to save it, after all.”
I nodded a little but still looked at him suspiciously. <<if $miloro == "true">>If not a little hurt. <</if>>Something wasn’t right. “Hazel wanted us to wait for her,” I told him. Maybe I had been an idiot to come on ahead.
“At the carnival square, right? It’s where we always meet.” He was already walking as he spoke, tossing his words over his shoulder. “Ton of games there. It’s Hazel’s favorite place. I’ll try to win her a stuffed cat or something. Maybe then she’ll replace Billows.” He was halfway down the street before I could even slide off my stool and I struggled to catch up with him.
There were several more alleys than I remembered in this area of the market. New ones jutted off from behind stalls that had been shoved aside to allow access. They were smaller. Narrow little passages that looked like they had been carved within the world specifically for this event. Milo slipped down one, turning to his side to allow a celebratory group to pass us. I noticed they were all dressed in their own type of finery, bags of heady smelling spices clutched in their hands, along with cheese cloth sacks of roasted pine nuts.
In the distance, I could hear the loud ringing of bells. They weren’t like the ones that were scattered around the stalls, but loud gongs that bordered on obnoxious in nature. They rang out in time to a scatter of artificial lights. Not like the lanterns above but ones that were enchanted. Hazel had told me they could be bought for cheap down at the budget quarter. She had three of them in her tool shed. Half the time they didn’t work.
Emerging from the narrow path we were on, I squinted a little. Stalls were shoved up against stone walls like in most of the other districts I had seen, but these all seemed to be boasting some sort of game, the winner of which would receive a prize that was hanging from the cheaply painted poles scattered every third booth or so.
“Isn’t it great?” Milo asked, rocking on his feet. The lights from the games cut his face into several quadrants of multicolored patches. They highlighted the stress lines at the corner of each eye. “Come on,” he told me. I noticed that unlike before, he didn’t reach out to touch me. From day one, Milo had been a tactile guy. One that gave out his hand freely. But now... “Let’s get us some tickets and start playing.”
[[Next|Chapter Five M4]]
“Nothing,” I responded slowly. My eyes were narrowed. I didn’t believe his performance for even a moment. But Milo was a grown man. It wasn’t like I could force him to talk. Not unless this continued.
“Come on. You came here to spend some time with me, so let’s spend some time together. Get to know this world you’re supposed to be saving, yeah? Got to have a reason to want to save it, after all.”
I nodded a little but still looked at him suspiciously. <<if $miloro == "true">>If not a little hurt. <</if>>Something wasn’t right. “Hazel wanted us to wait for her,” I told him. Maybe I had been an idiot to come on ahead.
“At the carnival square, right? It’s where we always meet.” He was already walking as he spoke, tossing his words over his shoulder. “Ton of games there. It’s Hazel’s favorite place. I’ll try to win her a stuffed cat or something. Maybe then she’ll replace Billows.” He was halfway down the street before I could even slide off my stool and I struggled to catch up with him.
There were several more alleys than I remembered in this area of the market. New ones jutted off from behind stalls that had been shoved aside to allow access. They were smaller. Narrow little passages that looked like they had been carved within the world specifically for this event. Milo slipped down one, turning to his side to allow a celebratory group to pass us. I noticed they were all dressed in their own type of finery, bags of heady smelling spices clutched in their hands, along with cheese cloth sacks of roasted pine nuts.
In the distance, I could hear the loud ringing of bells. They weren’t like the ones that were scattered around the stalls, but loud gongs that bordered on obnoxious in nature. They rang out in time to a scatter of artificial lights. Not like the lanterns above but ones that were enchanted. Hazel had told me they could be bought for cheap down at the budget quarter. She had three of them in her tool shed. Half the time they didn’t work.
Emerging from the narrow path we were on, I squinted a little. Stalls were shoved up against stone walls like in most of the other districts I had seen, but these all seemed to be boasting some sort of game, the winner of which would receive a prize that was hanging from the cheaply painted poles scattered every third booth or so.
“Isn’t it great?” Milo asked, rocking on his feet. The lights from the games cut his face into several quadrants of multicolored patches. They highlighted the stress lines at the corner of each eye. “Come on,” he told me. I noticed that unlike before, he didn’t reach out to touch me. From day one, Milo had been a tactile guy. One that gave out his hand freely. But now... “Let’s get us some tickets and start playing.”
[[Next|Chapter Five M4]]
“Are you alright?” I asked him. There was something different about him from the last time I’d seen him. <<if $miloro == "true">>We had spent the evening before talking and laughing. Dancing until we were red in the face. There had been a certain truth that had come from him then. Spoken in comfort. As we had sat in that small nook, overlooking the lanterns, there had been an ease about him that was completely gone now. It worried me. As if the things we had spoken of before had done the exact opposite for him. Instead of providing a foundation, it had made him nervous. Unsure of where he stood now.<<elseif $relationship == "false">>Hazel had always said that Milo had a manic energy about him but so far, I had yet to experience it. He was bright and he was full of energy, but I had never considered him manic. Not until this moment. The look in his eyes was unlike anything I had experienced before and it caused a small pit of fear to bloom deep in my chest.<</if>>
“Milo?”
Leaning forward, he wiped a hand over his face. “Sorry. It was a long day. Had a job that I had to do that got to me a bit.”
He hadn’t spoken of the kind of work that he did. Other than being a part-time thief. I hadn’t realized he was working currently, however.
“Did you want to talk about it?” I asked.
He shook his head, eyes wild as they looked up and down the streets. Like he was being hunted. “I would really love not to talk about it, actually. Forget about all of it.”
“That bad?”
His fingers drummed on the counter, debating with how much he could actually tell me. “It’s ongoing,” he said, looking at me from beneath his lashes. A secret that he didn’t want others to hear. “I– I’m in over my head with it. Don’t quite know what to do.”
“Are you in danger?” I asked, suddenly feeling wary.
“I’m always in a bit of danger, darlin’,” he said, picking at a crack in the wood. There was so much bitterness to his words. “But, no. I’m not worried about me in this situation. I can take care of myself.” Drumming his fingers in a staccato rhythm he rose from the barstool. “It’s Lantern Festival,” he said. “Not the time to talk about work.” Looking around, I watched as he rolled his shoulders, shedding whatever his worry had been. “Where’s Hazel? I thought she’d be coming with you. What are you doing here alone?"
[[I came to be here with you]]
[[I came to experience the festival]]
[[Hazel will be along shortly]]With tickets in hand, the two of us set out through the square. It was bigger than I had thought it would be. Each time I thought I spied the back wall more alleyways appeared that were lined with carnival booths, filled to capacity with people eager to partake in one of the games. I watched as individuals hit the ground with oversized hammers, sending a ball upwards as it exploded in a burst of fire high in the sky. While others, sprayed water at small rubber ducks, trying to tip them over within the small pond.
“This one,” Milo said.
I looked to where he pointed. A large wooden pole stood tall in a cleared out space smelling heavily of fresh hay. Tied loosely to it, were nine donkeys, all of which were slowly circling the pole in a meandering gate. Above them, was a rotating floating platform, filled with shiny apples and the brightest carrots I had ever seen.
“What am I looking at?” I asked Milo confused.
“You’ll love it. The aim of the game is to feed the donkeys.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. I could see some of the donkeys munching happily on fallen produce. I could also see a lot of rubber tipped arrows at their feet.
“You shoot the produce down so the donkeys can eat them. Shoot three in a row, and you win a prize. Don’t shoot any produce down and the donkey’s will mock you.”
With wide eyes I turned to him. “Excuse me?”
“It’s true. They have been trained to make those really loud donkey calls and if you haven’t been on the receiving end of a donkey's mockery, well, I don’t know if you know true pain.”
As if on cue, all the donkeys began to call out. A young man was hanging his head, bow and arrow being handed back in shame towards the barker who was slapping him on the back good naturedly.
“What about the arrows?” I asked. “Couldn’t they hurt the donkeys?”
“No. It’s not what you think,” he laughed. “We’re not that cruel. The arrows are all suction cups. So even if you hit the donkey, it’s going to bounce off of them.” There were clearly several rubber arrows stuck to the circling donkeys as we spoke. The donkeys themselves seemed to be paying them no mind though.
“Want to give it a go?” he asked. “I’ll teach you.”
[[Sure. Why not? As long as we don’t hurt the donkeys]]
[[No. I don’t think I like the idea of shooting suction cups at donkeys]]I shrugged a little. If Milo said that this didn’t hurt the donkeys then I didn’t see anything wrong with it.
I stood by as Milo paid the barker a few of our tickets, grabbing a bow and rubber tipped arrows in the process. As he brought them over to me, he was grinning. It was clear that I had no idea how to hold the thing or even how to aim it.
“Need help?” he asked. I was holding it in my hands, the feel of the curved wood felt oddly heavy. It was clear that I didn’t know how to hold the thing, let alone shoot it.
[[No. I can do this]]
[[Yes, please help]]
I rolled my eyes at him. “Looking for an excuse to get close?” I challenged.
The grin that he gave me in return was wicked. “Always, sugar. Absolutely, always.”
Eyeing the people around me, I worked out how to hold the bow properly. It felt odd in my hand, slightly off kilter even when I felt like I was aiming it straight. Taking one of the arrows, I notched it back, pulling the suction cup to the line of the bow.
Behind me, I could feel Milo’s eyes on me. <<if $miloro == "true">>They lingered across my backside, trailing down my spine slowly in liquid heat.
“You’re being distracting,” I told him.
“Am I?”
I could hear the smirk in his tone. “Yes.”
His breath ghosted against my ear. “I’m sorry. I’ll have to work on that. Now. Shoot.”<</if>>
Donkeys. Feed the donkeys.
Cocking back my arm, I closed my eyes, focusing on letting the noise from the rest of the world bleed away. Taking a deep breath, I let my body loosen, tilted the bow upwards a bit more, and fired.
[[I am a good shot]]
[[I am a terrible shot]]
I held the bow and arrow out to him awkwardly, having no clue how I was supposed to even begin to use the thing. “I’m going to shoot one of them in the eye if I attempt this. Here.”
Milo’s smile stretched across his face at that as he took three steps forward, wrapping his fingers around the curved shaft and pushing it back towards me. “I’m not doing it for you, darlin’. But I’ll help you. You want the hands on or hands-off approach?”
I raised a brow to him. I could see the mischief dancing behind his eyes.
[[Hands on]]
[[Stay in your place, Milo Next]]The arrow flew true. It hit the top of the platform, knocking at the bottom pyramid of apples and a few haphazard carrots. They rained down in front of the donkeys, hitting the ground with a thud. Lazily, the donkeys stepped forward, munching at their prize.
I turned to Milo with a grin, twirling the bow in my hand.
“That almost hit you in the face,” he told me with a snort.
I ignored him. “Thought I couldn’t do it, huh?”
<<if $miloro == "true">>Stepping up, Milo reached out, tipping my chin upwards towards him. “Never doubted you for a second, darlin’.” Shuffling forward, he planted a gentle kiss across my lips. I heard someone let out a low whistle somewhere around us and felt Milo raise his hand to flip off whoever was standing in that general direction. <<elseif $relationship == "false">>Milo bowed towards me in deference, though he kept his gaze locked with mine and I could see the fire of intrigue light across his features. “Never doubted you, darlin’. Not for a second.”
I shook my head at him, turning back to the donkey and their spoils.<</if>>
I took my last remaining shots, shooting more than enough produce down to earn myself a prize. Said prize was nothing more than a bag of pink glitter popcorn, the likes of which Milo advised me to absolutely not eat if I wanted my teeth in the morning. I was looking at it, contemplating if this was a risk I was willing to take, when I heard Hazel call out from across the carnival square, her sweet voice carrying over the crowd.
“Oh!” she said, catching up to us. “You played feed the donkeys. I love that popcorn.”
Taking the bag of popcorn from my hand, he handed it to Hazel. “You’ll thank me later,” he told me.
[[Next|Chapter Five M5]]
<<set $shot to "good">>And the arrow fell short. So short in fact that it fell upon an apple that a brown donkey was already munching on, causing the animal to snort at me and shove it out of the way. Somehow, that made the rest of the donkeys begin to call out, laughing and me with curled lips that revealed giant sets of yellow white teeth.
I stared at them all as they stared back, clearly mocking my efforts.
Milo’s hand came down upon my shoulder sympathetically. “It will be okay,” he said solemnly. “This too shall pass.”
As the donkeys quietened down, I shot a glance towards him. “I thought you were joking.”
“I rarely joke about donkey mockery.”
I took my last remaining shots, shooting only a single carrot down. The rest of the time, the donkeys looked at me with barely concealed contempt. We walked away from the game, empty-handed, with Milo making terrible donkey puns on my behalf. It was on the tail end of another one when I heard Hazel call out from across the carnival square, her sweet voice carrying over the crowd.
“Oh!” she said, catching up to us. “You played feed the donkey’s.” She paused as she observed my lack of prize. “Oh, $name. Did they laugh at you?”
Milo for some reason found this incredibly funny and his own laughter ended up bursting out from around us. I couldn’t help but smile even at the ridiculous nature of it all. With the lights flickering above, and my friends smiling at my side, I felt the last dregs of today's events, finally fade away.
[[Next|Chapter Five M5]]
<<set $shot to "bad">>The three of us wandered through the rest of the carnival square, Milo and Hazel bickering with each other about which festival food I should try first and which games were worth playing versus what could be skipped. I was happy to sit back and watch the two of them. The friendship they had ran deep. The easy way they fell into conversation with each other, how they finished each other's sentences, it all culminated into a sort of kinship that I found comfort in. I knew the strife those two had gone through. Yet, they were still smiling.
It was hopeful in a way.
“That one,” Hazel said, pointing towards a pole that was covered in stuffed animals. Up near the top was a cat with black stripes and azure eyes. Milo didn’t even question it. Simply walked up to the barker and placed a few coins down. The game was some sort of bottle and water contraption. Beads of water were floated over to Milo, who then tried to throw them within the narrow opening of a glass bottle. The entire thing looked difficult at best, the opening to the bottles looking almost too thin for the drops of water to travel through without breaking.
Hazel was determined though and each time Milo turned towards her, she pointed at the large stuffed cat.
It took Milo exactly eighteen tries to win Hazel the cat, but when he did, he let out a whoop of triumph while Hazel jumped up and down, and I clapped at their victory. The stuffed animal was huge. Larger than Hazel by far. Up close its whiskers looked as if they were braided together with iridescent twine. She hugged it, thanking Milo profusely, and suddenly, the abundance of stuffies that sat in the corner of the living room in the deep wing back chair, made a lot more sense.
“Want to come with us to the powder field?” Milo asked her as she hoisted the fake cat over her shoulder.
She shook her head. “No. I’ll be going to my usual.”
“Don’t break your neck,” he called after her as she disappeared into the crowd. We watched as the head of the black feline bounced above her with each step she took.
“What’s her usual?”
“A big old tree she’s been going to since she could walk. She likes to watch the lanterns fade from there. Hazel’s not big on crowds.” He stopped for a minute. “I uh– you still wanting to spend the evening with me?”
[[Of course I do]]
[[No. I’m ditching you for Mr. Billows]]
[[Do you still want to spend the evening with me?]]“Hands on,” I told him slowly, wondering how hands on he was talking about and feeling a little thrill curl in my belly.
Stepping behind me, Milo ran his hands down my sides, settling at my hips. His fingers were firm as he stepped me into position, slotting himself against my back until we were flush. “Now,” he said, breath against my ear. “You’re going to want to hold it straight. Lock your arm but allow for a bit of flexibility. You’re gonna want to pull back and look down the line of the arrow.” Shifting behind me, he reached around, shifting the bow upwards a slight bit more before letting his hand rest low on my belly.
“Breathe,” he said. “Inhale and eye your target. Feeling your heartbeat.” He tapped his fingers against me in time to the thrum of my pulse. “When it feels right, let go.”
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself, feeling Milo behind me, a solid line.
Biting my lip, I opened my eyes and looked at the circling produce, aimed and let the arrow go.
[[It was a good shot]]
[[It was a failed shot]]
I narrowed my eyes. “You stay where you are, Milo Next. I know what you will end up doing if I let you anywhere near me.”
He held his hands up, backing away with three exaggerated steps. Though I could still see the look he was giving me. The one that said I clearly should be keeping my eye on him.
“Alright,” he said. “Hold your bow straight. With your other arm, string the arrow and pull it back until your arm is locked. But don’t over lock it. You want it locked but loose.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” I said, fumbling with the arrow.
“Do it and it will.”
I tried to follow his instructions, widening my stance, tilting my chin upwards, staring down the shaft of the arrow and past the rubber suction cup.
[[I am a good shot]]
[[I am a terrible shot]]
The arrow flew true. It hit the top of the platform, knocking at the bottom pyramid of apples and a few haphazard carrots. They rained down in front of the donkeys, hitting the ground with a thud. Lazily, the donkeys stepped forward, munching at their prize.
Behind me, Milo breathed out a huff of laughter that ghosted across the apex of my neck. “Well done. Remind me not to piss you off.”
He stepped away from me then. I felt my skin hot and too tight and my cheeks flamed with a burning heat that I wanted to pursue. But I kept my hand on my bow and set up my next shot, determined to do just as well, if not better, without him pressed tightly against me.
I took my last remaining shots, shooting more than enough produce down to earn myself a prize. Said prize was nothing more than a bag of pink glitter popcorn, the likes of which Milo advised me to absolutely not eat if I wanted my teeth in the morning. I was looking at it, contemplating if this was a risk I was willing to take, when I hear Hazel call out from across the carnival square, her sweet voice carrying over the crowd.
“Oh!” she said, catching up to us. “You played feed the donkeys. I love that popcorn.”
Taking the bag of popcorn from my hand, he handed it to Hazel. “You’ll thank me later,” he told me.
[[Next|Chapter Five M5]]
<<set $shot to "good">>Just as I let the arrow go, I felt Milo’s lips press against my neck.
And the arrow fell short. So short in fact that it fell upon an apple that a brown donkey was already munching on, causing the animal to snort at me and shove it out of the way. Somehow, that made the rest of the donkeys begin to call out, laughing and me with curled lips that revealed giants sets of yellow white teeth.
I stared at them all as they stared back, clearly mocking my efforts.
I could feel Milo’s laughter run up my back, his lips still grazing against my skin. “Oops.”
“That was cheating,” I told him, though I tilted my head a little to allow him more access. Chuckling, he backed away from me, leaving my back cold and for me to set up my next shot on my own.
I took my last remaining shots, shooting only a single carrot down. The rest of the time, the donkeys looked at me with barely concealed contempt. We walked away from the game, empty-handed, with Milo making terrible donkey puns on my behalf. It was on the tail end of another one when I heard Hazel call out from across the carnival square, her sweet voice carrying over the crowd.
“Oh!” she said, catching up to us. “You played feed the donkeys.” She paused as she observed my lack of prize. “Oh, $name. Did they laugh at you?”
Milo for some reason found this incredibly funny and his own laughter ended up bursting out from around us. I couldn’t help but smile even at the ridiculous nature of it all. With the lights flickering above, and my friends smiling below, I felt the last dregs of the weighty task I had overtaken today, finally fade away.
[[Next|Chapter Five M5]]
<<set $shot to "bad">>I eyed the donkeys. While they didn’t look in pain, the idea of shooting something that could hit these creatures didn’t particularly sit right with me. I could see several suction cups attached to them, the arrow laying haphazardly on the ground. And while it was doubtful that it hurt them even in the slightest, I still didn’t like the idea of being a part of it.
Shaking my head, I looked at him. “I don’t like the idea of shooting and missing,” I said. “This entire thing seems a bit morally ambiguous.”
Milo looked over at the circle of donkeys, eyeing them with a keen expression. I could see the cogs turning in his head as he followed the lines of the loose cords that kept them from wandering further off into the market. Though, it did look as if they were merely staying in place because of the abundance of food rather than any sort of tether.
“I can see where this may be a bit problematic,” he said. The way his tone came across however, I could tell something else was hovering in his mind. He began walking back and forth, observing the game ahead with scrutiny. “How problematic do you think it is? Like really is.”
I stared at him. “Are you asking for a number?”
“No. No. Nothing like that. I’m just saying, if this situation here is all morally wrong, isn’t it our civic duty to make it morally right?”
“What do you mean?”
Turning to me, he placed his hands on his hips and leaned forward a bit. “Want to start a donkey revolution?”
The mere thought of it nearly had me laughing. “What?”
“Let’s free the donkeys. If they stay to get shot by arrows, there is of course nothing we can do about it. But if they run, well, how better to spend our night than freeing the very animals that are caged.”
My eyes ticked towards the donkey’s. It seemed like such a chaotic thing to do. Like it was wrong somehow.
Which is exactly why when I turned to him next, I nodded my head. “Let’s do it.”
[[Free the donkeys]]
<<set $freethedonkeys to "true">>Milo’s face lit up with glee at the prospect of it all. Gesturing for me to follow, the two of us hid behind a stack of hay bails. Occasionally, a woman came over to gather more and place them around the donkeys, cushioning the fall of the produce.
“Alright,” he whispered, “I have a plan, if you choose to accept it.” I laughed and nodded my head. “So, there is a release, about halfway up the pole,” he said. “It’s where all the donkeys tethers are tied. Looks like it's a rotating ball of some sort. I’m thinking, if I cause a distraction, then you can go and flip the switch. Then, we can create enough noise to let the donkeys go free.”
“What kind of distraction are you going to use that will get me close enough?” I could see the switch in question. It was right at the center of the pole. I would have to step through the semicircle of half-eaten produce and past the donkeys, to get to it. Everyone was sure to see me.
“What kind of distraction do you think I should use?”
[[Tell them the truth. That these donkeys deserve to be set free]]
[[Claim that you were supposed to get a prize, and you didn’t]]
[[Get shot with one of the rubber arrows and act hurt]]
<<set $freedonkies to "true">>“You won’t need a distraction. Just tell them that what they are doing is wrong and be loud about it.”
Milo grinned. “I can do that.” Looking around the stack of hay, he took in the position of the people in charge of the donkeys. “Alright, wait for them to be distracted and then do your thing. Viva la donkey!”
Before I could ask what that even meant, Milo was already running off, bent low as if the crowd would not be able to see him despite weaving right in their line of sight. I watched as he kept a low profile, before hopping up on a nearby apple crate, kicking at the air and whistling with both of his fingers.
“People of carnival square,” he yelled out. “We are remiss in our actions. These donkeys do not deserve such foul treatment. They deserve to be free!” There were a few boos as several people yelled at him to get out of the way. “No no. Hear me out. These here donkeys are chained, slaves to the masters of fate and our flights of fancy. Is it fair to tether them here for our amusement, only allowing them to eat when our good fortune allows it?”
I saw it then. A few of the workers began stepping forward, the game itself being halted. Milo had their attention. Waiting a few more beats, I eyed my target, before launching myself forward.
I ran towards the donkey pole, vaulting myself over the carrots and apples. One donkey yelled out and I thought it was all over, but Milo’s voice only got louder during that moment, giving me more time to get to the pole.
“We should be ashamed of ourselves!” he called out. “We should feel our hearts withering in disgust over our actions. How could we take such majestic animals and tie them up such as this?”
Pushing past the line of donkeys, I reached the poll. The hook was metal, halfway up the pole, attached to a thin loop of chain. Without thinking, I jumped up, grabbing onto the lever and pulling. It released the pin holding all their ties and the ropes fell to the ground in a fluttering array of hemp.
None of the donkey’s moved.
They all still munched on the apples below.
Shooting Milo a look, I locked eyes with him. The two of us stared at each other, frozen, clearly not sure what to do. Around us, the market fell silent.
“BE FREE!”
The cry came up from one of the members of the market. They held a bow in their hand and were now waving it above their head in some symbol of freedom. A cheer went up around us and people starting whooping and hollering, yelling at the donkeys to run. I pressed myself to the pole as the donkeys began bucking out, kicking at the hay beneath and beginning to leave the square. Suddenly, there were donkeys everywhere. Scattered across the carnival, eating discarded cotton candy, and clopping down around the corners and into the shadows.
From across the way, Milo held his arms in the air triumphantly.
I ran to him, joining the celebration while pandemonium began to erupt around us.
“What did you two do?” We both froze. It was Hazel’s voice. Turning, we saw her standing behind us, a donkey ambling past her.
[[Donkey revolution!]]
[[We’re playing carnival games]]
[[It was Milo’s idea]]“Use your surroundings,” I told him. “Claim that you were supposed to get a prize earlier but they didn’t follow through.”
Milo grinned. “I can do that.” Looking around the stack of hay, he took in the position of the people in charge of the donkeys. “Alright, wait for them to be distracted and then do your thing. Viva la donkey!”
Before I could ask what that even meant, Milo was already running off, bent low as if the crowd would not be able to see him despite weaving right in their line of sight. I watched as he kept a low profile, before hopping up on a nearby apple crate, kicking at the air and whistling with both of his fingers.
“People of carnival square,” he yelled out. “We got a couple of cheats on our hands.” A few people lowered their bows, looking at Milo in confusion. “I came to play this fine game earlier. Shot myself down eighteen and a half carrots. But did I get a prize? Noooo. No, instead, they told me to go claim it at customs. Now why would they do that, you might ask? Because they are holding out on us.” He pointed to one of the carnival workers. An unaware younger individual who looked like they were caught in the midst of bright lights. “You, are holding out on us. How dare you,” he accused.
I saw it then. A few of the workers began stepping forward, the game itself being halted. Milo had their attention. Waiting a few more beats, I eyed my target, before launching myself forward.
I ran towards the donkey poll, vaulting myself over the carrots and apples. One donkey yelled out and I thought it was all over, but Milo’s voice only got louder during that moment, giving me more time to get to the pole.
“What kind of establishment is this?” Milo called out. “When someone succeeds you just tell them they are worth nothing?”
Pushing past the line of donkeys, I reached the poll. The hook was metal, halfway up the pole, attached to a thin loop of chain. Without thinking, I jumped up, grabbing onto the lever and pulling. It released the pin holding all their ties and the ropes fell to the ground in a fluttering array of hemp.
None of the donkeys moved.
They all still munched on the apples below.
Shooting Milo a look, I locked eyes with him. The two of us stared at each other, frozen, clearly not sure what to do. Around us, the market fell silent.
“Did they just free the donkeys?” Someone asked.
The bark of laughter that followed scared the donkeys into action. All of them jumped, spooked by the sudden bought of noise, and kicking out at each other. I pressed myself to the pole as the donkeys began bucking out, kicking at the hay beneath and beginning to leave the square. Suddenly, there were donkeys everywhere. Scattered across the carnival, eating discarded cotton candy, and clopping down around the corners and into the shadows.
From across the way, Milo held his arms in the air triumphantly.
I ran to him, joining in on his celebration while pandemonium began to erupt around us.
“What did you two do?” We both froze. It was Hazel’s voice. Turning, we saw her standing behind us, a donkey ambling past her.
[[Donkey revolution!]]
[[We’re playing carnival games]]
[[It was Milo’s idea]]“Jump in front of an arrow,” I told him.
“Are you threatening me or making a suggestion?”
“It would be a great distraction,” I urged. “Jump in front of an arrow and pretend like it actually hurt you. Everyone will come running and I can free the donkeys.”
Milo grinned. “I can do that.” Looking around the stack of hay, he took in the position of the people in charge of the donkeys. “Alright, wait for them to be distracted and then do your thing. Viva la donkey!”
I didn’t know what that meant, but he was already running off, bent low as if the crowd would not be able to see him as he wove into their line of sight. He waited. Waited until someone was lining up a shot, and just before they let loose, he jumped in front of it. The rubber suction cup hit him right in the chest, pushing him backwards.
Milo flung himself to the ground with a loud cry of pain, rolling over onto his side and clutching the arrow as if it really had penetrated his skin. All around, people came rushing forward and within moments, the path to the donkeys was clear.
I ran towards the donkey poll, vaulting myself over the carrots and apples. One donkey yelled out and I thought it was all over, but Milo’s cries of pain only got louder during that moment, giving me more time to get to the pole.
“You shot me,” he cried. “How could you be so cruel?”
“Sir, are you alright? It shouldn’t have hit you that hard…”
“Well obviously the arrows are tipped. You could have hit one of the donkeys. What are all of you, murderers?”
Pushing past the line of donkeys, I came to the support they were all attached to. The hook was metal, halfway up the pole, wrapped around a thin loop of chain. Without thinking, I jumped up, grabbing onto the lever and pulling. It released the pin holding all their ties and the ropes fell to the ground in a fluttering array of hemp.
None of the donkeys moved.
They all still munched on the apples at their feet.
Shooting Milo a look, I locked eyes with him. The two of us stared at each other, frozen, clearly not sure what to do. People were still hovering over him even though he was clearly not bleeding. But as the clatter of the donkey chain hit the ground, they slowly all turned my way.
Around us, the market fell silent.
“Did they just free the donkeys?” Someone asked.
“Free the donkeys!” another began to yell. “The arrows are tipped!”
A roar came up through the small crowd, all of them beginning to yell and wave their arms to spook the animals into moving. I pressed myself to the pole as the donkeys began bucking out, kicking at the hay beneath and beginning to leave the square. Suddenly, there were donkeys everywhere. Scattered across the carnival, eating discarded cotton candy, and clopping down around the corners and into the shadows.
From across the way, Milo held his arms in the air triumphantly.
I ran to him, joining in on his celebration while pandemonium began to erupt around us.
“What did you two do?” We both froze. It was Hazel’s voice. Turning, we saw her standing behind us, a donkey wandering past her.
[[Donkey revolution!]]
[[We’re playing carnival games]]
[[It was Milo’s idea]]
Milo and I looked at each other, matching smiles on our face. When we turned back to Hazel, we both raised our hands in the air. “Donkey revolution!”
Hazel stumbled back at the sudden display of enthusiasm, but Milo rushed forward, grabbing her around the waist and swinging her around in triumph. Her eyes were wide as she was clearly confused as to what was even going on, but she gave a tentative smile in return all the same.
“Oh,” she said, as Milo put her down. “Is that a new game?”
Milo laughed loudly. “It is now.” Slinging his arm around her, Milo breathed in deeply. The lights above were getting dimmer with each passing moment. “Come on. It’s best if $name and I aren’t here much longer.”
Hazel looked at me confused, but followed Milo anyway, and the three of us, set out into the carnival district, watching as the occasional donkey was shooed away from the booths.
[[Next|Chapter Five M5]]Milo and I looked at each other, matching smiles on our face. “We,” Milo stated, raising a brow at me and clearly wondering if I would be challenging his next words.
“Are playing carnival games,” I finished for him.
“Oh fun,” Hazel intoned. “Have you two won anything?”
“Freedom,” Milo said, slinging an arm around her. “We won freedom.” I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from my throat at that. It wasn’t as if he were wrong.
Above us, the lights were getting dimmer with each passing moment. Milo gently began steering Hazel away from the scene of the crime, asking me to follow with a nod of his head. “Come on. It’s best if $name and I aren’t here much longer.”
Hazel looked at me confused, but followed Milo anyway, and the three of us, set out into the carnival district, watching as the occasional donkey was shooed away from the booths.
[[Next|Chapter Five M5]]“It was Milo’s idea,” I said quickly, before he could spin any sort of tale or even state my involvement in it.
His eyes went wide as he looked at me in betrayal. “Wow,” he laughed. “That’s cold, darlin’. Didn’t know you even had it in you.”
I was smiling at him, feeling that for the first time, I had gotten one up on Milo Next. Meanwhile, Hazel was clearly confused and was trying very hard to figure out just why there were so many donkeys wandering around.
Slinging an arm around her shoulder, Milo began moving Hazel away. “Come on, Haze. Let’s get away from this double-crosser.” Despite being completely lost to our antics, Hazel followed Milo, and the three of us, set out into the carnival district, watching as the occasional donkey was shooed away from the booths.
[[Next|Chapter Five M5]]
“Of course,” I told him. I had come to the market early for him. <<if $freethedonkeys == "true">>We had freed donkeys together.<</if>> I couldn’t imagine anyone else that I wanted to spend the rest of the evening with.
A softer smile crossed him at that. “Good. You have saved me then.”
“From?”
“Drinking myself into oblivion in a lonely corner somewhere.”
“I highly doubt that would have been your fate,” I told him. Though by the expression he gave me I knew I couldn’t say that with confidence.
Pointing towards the alley across the way, he shrugged. “You never know. I didn’t get the moniker of the town drunk for nothing.” Brushing his shoulder against mine, he kept his steps close. It was something I had noticed about him as we wandered the streets together. Most of the time, Milo was a barrier between me and the majority of the crowds.
“Come on,” he said. “The lanterns are getting dim, and I want you to actually experience this festival before the night is through.”
[[Next|Chapter Five M6]]
“I don’t know,” I told him. I could see his face fall a bit. It was an answer he hadn’t been expecting. “There’s this big guy that I know. Lots of gray hair. Might go find him. Hear he prefers lots of cream. Goes by the name Bill.”
It took him a moment, but I watched the relief fall across his eyes. “Ah,” he said in realization. “That was incredibly dirty sounding.”
I laughed a little.
“And I know for a fact that Mr. Billows is a terrible bed partner.”
“How would you know that? That cat hates you.” I couldn’t imagine Milo letting that cat anywhere near him let alone Mr. Billows willingly jumping into bed with Milo to snuggle. Though, I’m sure that from time to time, the two of them found themselves sleeping in the same room. Especially when Milo crashed at Hazel’s after a night of drinking.
“I will not speak of it,” he told me. “It was a windy and cold night and neither of us are very manly when it comes to the branches knocking against the apothecary roof.” Brushing his shoulder against mine, he kept his steps close. It was something I had noticed about him as we wandered the streets together. Most of the time, Milo was a barrier between me and the majority of the crowds. “Come on. The lanterns are getting dim, and I want you to actually experience this festival before the night is through.”
[[Next|Chapter Five M6]]
“Do you want to spend the evening with me?” I countered.
“Of course I do.” The way it was said without hesitation warmed me.
“Then shut up and stop asking me if I’m sure.” I kept my tone light so as not to offend him but I wanted him to know with certainty that he was not forcing me to be by his side.
He held his hands up in surrender. “Habit, darlin’. A terrible, no good habit. Boundaries are ones I don’t like stumbling over.”
“Milo,” I told him, softening my voice. “If I didn’t want to be here, I would leave.” That crooked smile of his lit up his face. I couldn’t fathom why he thought no one would want to spend time with him.
Brushing his shoulder against mine, he kept his steps close. It was something I had noticed about him as we wandered the streets together. Most of the time, Milo was a barrier between me and the majority of the crowds.
“Come on,” he said. “The lanterns are getting dim, and I want you to actually experience this festival before the night is through.”
[[Next|Chapter Five M6]]
“So other than what the Baron’s wife told me earlier today, I have no idea what this festival even is,” I told him.
“The Baron’s wife?” It was close to the same reaction that Hazel had. Apparently, this Chrysanthemum was not well known. “I thought you and Belladonna were meeting with the Baron of the Books?” The expression on his face further scrunched up. “The Baron has a wife?”
“He does. And we were. Or at least I thought we were meeting him, but he ended up sending his wife in his stead. I still don’t know if she was happy about that or not.” Chrysanthemum had seemed far more irritated that her husband had tricked her out of a date than anything else. Though, after spending a short time with her, I had the feeling that she was going to demand he make it up to her thoroughly.
“Huh,” Milo said in an expulsion of breath.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just didn’t take the Baron of the Books as someone who had a wife. Or anyone for that matter. He’s kind of a dick.”
“A sentiment I heard a lot until I met her. She practically swooned over him.” It was clear that she loved her husband. I wondered if he held her in the same regard. Milo looked mildly impressed by this information, mulling it over in his head. This, coupled with Hazel’s response, gave me pause.
“Is it uncommon for Barons to have partners?”
“Completely,” he said with a shake of his head. “I mean, think about it. The only way to become a Baron is to kill a Baron. So, you are in hiding. You take precautions. But a partner? That’s a blinding weakness that will most certainly be used against you.”
I thought about the raven haired woman I had met. The signet ring she wore on her thumb and the way it had glinted in the light of the tree. I wondered if her husband really was the Baron. Or if he presented himself as such to keep her safe. Maybe I had met with the Baron of the Books after all and the man she was married to was the snake lingering in the dark, ready to strike anyone who would dare try and cull her.
It was an interesting theory and one that I would keep close to my chest. At least for now. I didn’t wish to betray the good will she had given me today.
“As for the festival,” Milo continued. “It is a yearly thing. Marks the new cycle I guess. Once a year, the lanterns go out completely before being relit and rising higher into the sky.” With his hand over his head, he batted at one of the dipping orbs. “See, you shouldn’t be able to touch them. The lower they dip, the closer they are to losing their juice. If you’re above six seven you better forget about walking around without hunching. You’ll just get tangled up in string. Which, the Warden is a prime example of. It’s hilarious.”
“Who relights them?” I asked curiously. There were so many of them. An absolute sea. I couldn’t imagine going around and one by one raising them and setting their flame anew.
“Dunno,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve heard a few theories. We used to have a Lady of the Lanterns that held ceremony and I thought when I was a kid that she was the one who did it. But she retired about five years ago, and we’ve been fine ever since. No one’s replaced her either.”
“Could the Barons be doing it?”
He snorted. “That would require for them to work together. Something I think they may be incapable of. Nah. The best I figure it, it’s the magic of the market itself. I know it’s real. I know it’s out there. Weird stuff happens too frequently for it not to be. I think the world just tries to keep going on its own. Survival of sorts. Wish it would do that with the tears.”
“Yeah,” I said. It would be helpful if whatever was keeping this place going repaired the stretch that was breaking it apart. Though I supposed that it was doing the best it could. Keeping the world bathed in light, so we could solve the problem might have been its solution.
“How do you feel about dancing?” Milo was asking. He leaned down to speak to me, his voice barely heard over the thump of music that shook the floor up ahead.
[[I love dancing]]
[[I am terrible at dancing]]
[[I am indifferent. I have no memories]]“Wait, there’s dancing? I love dancing.” Most afternoons I danced around the lobby of the apothecary. At least, when the customers were not pouring in. <<if $miloro == "true">>It was why I had spontaneously taken Milo’s hand each time he offered, our feet moving effortlessly together.<</if>> While I wasn’t sure if I was any good at it, dancing was something I knew I enjoyed. There was a sense of relief that came along with each step. A kind of destressor that I was beginning to crave.
“Good,” Milo said. “Because you are in for a treat.”
We emerged into an open field. The lanterns were heavy and low here but the land before us was covered in thick green grass and small orange, pink, blue and yellow flowers. That in itself was impressive enough but what caught my eye more were the people. Hundreds of them. All dancing to a wild beat that was being played up on a raised stage. With each thump of their foot, a cloud of pollen burst into the air, shooting upwards before dispersing in a fine mist of multicolored dust. It stuck to sweaty skin, dripping down arms in a sea of paint.
Milo grinned at me. “You up for it?”
I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was, but I found myself being led towards the dance floor, weaving in and out of people until we found ourselves a spot somewhere in the middle. Milo tilted his head back, sticking out his tongue and tasting the pollen. I could feel bits of it catch on my lips and as my tongue darted out I tasted something sweet hovering in the air.
Holding out his hand, I watched as Milo’s skin became blotted with pinks and greens, the particles glimmering iridescent against his freckled skin.
“May I have this dance?” he shouted over the loud beat from the stage.
I took his hand then, giving him permission to pull me in. And pull me in he did. With his hand in mine, he swung me around, our feet stomping across the field and sending up sprays of pigment that coated our clothes in a fine sheen. Heat poured across us from the low hanging lamps and the ample amounts of bodies around us. I could feel it sweltering, shimmering in the air as the lights began to dim. Somewhere, off in the distance, I thought I saw the dark blue coat of the Warden’s. I wondered if Hazel was watching us from a tree somewhere or if Belladonna was sipping wine someplace fancy.
When Milo pulled me closer I could feel him laughing against me, his feet quick around him as he guided me in some form of stomp, the beat and rhythm a heady mixture that got my blood pumping and my heart pounding.
As the music changed, I felt the crowd around us move, adjusting to the tempo.
[[We began dancing light and airy]]
[[We began to dance wild and free]]
[[We began to dance dirty]]“I will step on your feet,” I told him. <<if $miloro == "true">> Milo loved dancing. That much was clear. And through being with him, I had learned that I had two left feet and was subconsciously determined to break his toes.<</if>>
“I will happily place you upon them and twirl you around then.” His grin was genuine, apparently not even the idea of my bad dancing was enough to diminish it on this night. I found that I quite liked that. Milo had a catching smile. When it wasn’t there, something in the world felt off.
We emerged into an open field. The lanterns were heavy and low here but the land before us was covered in thick green grass and small orange, pink, blue and yellow flowers. That in itself was impressive enough but what caught my eye more were the people. Hundreds of them. All dancing to a wild beat that was being played up on a raised stage. With each thump of their foot, a cloud of pollen burst into the air, shooting upwards before dispersing in a fine mist of multicolored dust. It stuck to sweaty skin, dripping down arms in a sea of paint.
Milo grinned at me. “You up for it?”
I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was, but I found myself being led towards the dance floor, weaving in and out of people until we found ourselves a spot somewhere in the middle. Milo tilted his head back, sticking out his tongue and tasting the pollen. I could feel bits of it catch on my lips and as my tongue darted out I tasted something sweet hovering in the air.
Holding out his hand, I watched as Milo’s skin became blotted with pinks and greens, the particles glimmering iridescent against his freckled skin.
“May I have this dance?” he shouted over the loud beat from the stage.
I took his hand then, giving him permission to pull me in. And pull me in he did. With his hand in mine, he swung me around, our feet stomping across the field and sending up sprays of pigment that coated our clothes in a fine sheen. Heat poured across us from the low hanging lamps and the ample amounts of bodies around us. I could feel it sweltering, shimmering in the air as the lights began to dim. Somewhere, off in the distance, I thought I saw the dark blue coat of the Warden’s. I wondered if Hazel was watching us from a tree somewhere or if Belladonna was sipping wine someplace fancy.
When Milo pulled me closer I could feel him laughing against me, his feet quick around him as he guided me in some form of stomp, the beat and rhythm a heady mixture that got my blood pumping and my heart pounding.
As the music changed, I felt the crowd around us move, adjusting to the tempo.
[[We began dancing light and airy]]
[[We began to dance wild and free]]
[[We began to dance dirty]]“Milo, you remember that I have no memories, right? I don’t know how to dance let alone know if I like it.” <<if $miloro == "true">> The few times we had danced together, I had trusted him to guide me through each step. Thankfully, Milo was an adept dancer and was someone who got lost in the music.<</if>>
It was clear that he had forgotten about my memories. A point that actually made me feel good. If he had forgotten, I wasn’t as much of an outsider as I had thought myself to be. I looked as if I were someone who had always belonged.
“Well, let's find out then, yeah?”
We emerged into an open field. The lanterns were heavy and low here but the land before us was covered in thick green grass and small orange, pink, blue and yellow flowers. That in itself was impressive enough but what caught my eye more were the people. Hundreds of them. All dancing to a wild beat that was being played up on a raised stage. With each thump of their foot, a cloud of pollen burst into the air, shooting upwards before dispersing in a fine mist of multicolored dust. It stuck to sweaty skin, dripping down arms in a sea of paint.
Milo grinned at me. “You up for it?”
I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was, but I found myself being led towards the dance floor, weaving in and out of people until we found ourselves a spot somewhere in the middle. Milo tilted his head back, sticking out his tongue and tasting the pollen. I could feel bits of it catch on my lips and as my tongue darted out I tasted something sweet hovering in the air.
Holding out his hand, I watched as Milo’s skin became blotted with pinks and greens, the particles glimmering iridescent against his freckled skin.
“May I have this dance?” he shouted over the loud beat from the stage.
I took his hand then, giving him permission to pull me in. And pull me in he did. With his hand in mine, he swung me around, our feet stomping across the field and sending up sprays of pigment that coated our clothes in a fine sheen. Heat poured across us from the low hanging lamps and the ample amounts of bodies around us. I could feel it sweltering, shimmering in the air as the lights began to dim. Somewhere, off in the distance, I thought I saw the dark blue coat of the Warden’s. I wondered if Hazel was watching us from a tree somewhere or if Belladonna was sipping wine someplace fancy.
When Milo pulled me closer I could feel him laughing against me, his feet quick around him as he guided me in some form of stomp, the beat and rhythm a heady mixture that got my blood pumping and my heart pounding.
As the music changed, I felt the crowd around us move, adjusting to the tempo.
[[We began dancing light and airy]]
[[We began to dance wild and free]]
[[We began to dance dirty]]
The music turned to something light and more whimsical and I felt my body begin to sway with the motion of it all. With my hands in the air, I closed my eyes, letting the music take me. It wrapped around me gently, and I felt as if the world was slowly slipping away while the sweet smelling pigment coated my lips, tasting like spun sugar and strawberries.
Reaching up towards the lights, I tipped my head back and let my body flow with the sound of the music. Around me,others did the same, becoming drunk on the winding melody and the way it wove itself into the earth. Even when it went dark, even when the world around me felt as if it dimmed for a solid moment, I continued to dance. To feel the music. Feel the people and the market itself.
“$name?”
When I opened my eyes again, the lanterns were so bright that I winced. They had been raised far above my head and were now swaying well out of reach. Milo was next to me, his hands hovering, as if to catch me before I fell.
“Where’d you go just now?” he asked.
I blinked at him, suddenly feeling all the energy leave me as my knees buckled.
“Whoa,” Milo intoned, catching me and making sure I did not hit the ground. “Want to go get some air?”
I nodded.
[[Lean against him]]
[[Try to walk on your own]]The music became wild. It swelled within me until my feet were moving on their own accord, jumping and hopping around. I had no idea what I was doing but with the flinging limbs around me and the laughter that was ringing out through the cloud of pollen, I didn’t think it mattered. Before me, Milo was mimicking my moves, throwing his arms in the air in abandon and stomping his feet to cover himself in more multicolored dust. I couldn’t help myself. Leaning down I scooped the pollen in my hands, throwing it up and over my head. Around me, others began to do the same and all at once, our dancing became more about how high we could throw the pigment and whose hair was suddenly a patchwork of color.
Above us, the lanterns began to flicker and the surrounding music picked up in tempo. I felt as if I was at the precipice, my stomach about to drop out from beneath me. Milo gestured for me to look up, to watch the lanterns. I blinked through the haze swirling around me, not quite able to see it all.
But then, the lanterns flickered out.
I felt as if I were falling. The world went black and the area around me suddenly shattered into nothingness. I felt a scream rise in my throat as my feet gave out from under me and I was cast down into an abyss. Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
When a warmth bloomed in my chest I felt hands grasp me, steady me. And suddenly, the world was set right again and Milo was right there.
I blinked muzzily at him, feeling my stomach twist with whatever had just occurred. “What was that?” I asked.
“The lanterns,” he said with a small smirk. “Were you not listening earlier when I said it was all a bunch of magic that was going to zap them back to life?” His face softened though as I was unsteady on my feet, nearly stumbling into him. “Whoa,” he whispered, wrapping an arm firmly around me to keep me upright. “Want to get some fresh air?”
I nodded against him.
[[Lean against him]]
[[Try to walk on your own]]Bending at the knee, Milo grabbed me by the hips, ducking his head low to press against my own. I felt my breath stutter as we moved in a slow grind against one another, our bodies sweat slick and pressed together as one. His cheeks were streaked with color mingling and his hair was plastered to his forehead. I’m sure I looked much the same. The two of us were slotted together so close I could feel his heart thud beneath his chest and my head began to grow dizzy as I felt the pit of my stomach begin to tighten.
His breath was hot against my cheek, his eyes half lidded as he stared at me. My fingers reflexively tightened at his waist, right where his suspenders met the loops of his pants. I curled my fingers around them, keeping him close, matching his gaze.
Above us, the lanterns began to flicker, the beat of the music becoming low and needy. I felt like I was standing at the precipice, ready to fall into a hedonistic embrace as the world swirled in a dimming light of glimmering color.
Milo leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “It’s going to feel weird for a minute. Hold on to me, yeah?”
The lights shut off overhead and I clung to him. Around me, the world felt as if it fell away, sucked out from beneath my feet. I gasped loudly, but Milo was there, pressing me into a deep kiss and swallowing the sound, hungrily taking it as his own. Everything then fell. It shattered and broke at my feet as I clung to the muscled chest before me, feeling the keys from his belt bite into my own belly and hips.
Then, just like that, my chest heated and the lights above flung back on.
I blinked muzzily at him as he pulled away, barely noticing how the lanterns were now high in the sky, brighter than I had ever seen them before.
“What was that?” I whispered as whoops and hollers went up around us.
“A kiss, darlin’,” he smirked. It softened though as I was unsteady on my feet, nearly stumbling into them. “Whoa,” he whispered, wrapping an arm firmly around me to keep me upright. “Want to get some fresh air?”
I nodded against him.
[[Lean against him]]
[[Try to walk on your own]]As we made our way out of the flower field, I leaned heavily against him. He kept a hand firmly on me, steadying me as we went. The world was a dizzying array of both sound and color, and it all felt like too much too soon.
The further we got from the square the better I began to feel. Though I was reluctant to leave his side.
“Magic,” he told me when it had quietened. The streets were still full, but they were packed with people heading elsewhere. We seemed to be walking in the opposite direction of wherever everyone else was going. “It’s potent on these nights,” he explained. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not warning you. I’ve dealt with it for so long that I didn’t even think. Hazel doesn’t even feel it anymore with being a part of the Night Market. But I remember my first Lantern Festival. I was terrified with what I felt.”
I blinked at him owlishly. “So that was the magic from the Night Market itself?”
“We think so,” he nodded. “It’s really the only thing that makes a lot of sense.”
My head was too muzzy to think much on it. I supposed with the amount of magic that had to be expelled, it was bound to be felt. If you weren’t prepared for it, it could wipe you. But looking back on it, I couldn’t remember if I felt euphoria or pain.
Turning, we veered off the paths I was more familiar with, entering into an empty alley. It was brightly lit though with a pale blue hue that was now swaying up above. It reminded me of the moon that hung thinly in the sky.
“Can I touch you?” he asked. His hands had gone from steady forces against me to just hovering. Once the initial shock of it all had passed, he made sure to give me space. “If you’re not ready yet I get it. That was a lot.”
[[Not just yet]]
[[You can touch me]]
[[I think I'm steady on my feet now]]
I tried to walk out of the field on my own and managed wobbling steps towards the alleyways. Milo kept a hand nearby to steady me. The world was a dizzying array of both sound and color, and it all felt like too much too soon.
The further we got from the square the better I began to feel.
“Magic,” he told me when it had quietened. The streets were still full, but they were packed with people heading elsewhere. We seemed to be walking in the opposite direction of wherever everyone else was going. “It’s potent on these nights,” he explained. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not warning you. I’ve dealt with it for so long that I didn’t even think. Hazel doesn’t even feel it anymore with being a part of the Night Market. But I remember my first Lantern Festival. I was terrified with what I felt.”
I blinked at him owlishly. “So that was the magic from the Night Market itself?”
“We think so,” he nodded. “It’s really the only thing that makes a lot of sense.”
My head was too muzzy to think much on it. I supposed with the amount of magic that had to be expelled, it was bound to be felt. If you weren’t prepared for it, it could wipe you. But looking back on it, I couldn’t remember if I felt euphoria or pain.
Turning, we veered off the paths I was more familiar with, entering into an empty alley. It was brightly lit though with a pale blue hue that was now swaying up above. It reminded me of the moon that hung thinly in the sky.
“Can I touch you?” he asked. “If you’re not ready yet I get it. That was a lot.”
[[Not just yet]]
[[You can touch me]]
[[I think I'm steady on my feet now]]I shook my head. The idea of touch made my skin crawl. It was all too much. Such a simple action felt as if it would send me over the edge. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I tried to keep my heartbeat calm. Next to me, Milo made sure to put a little distance between us. But not enough that he couldn’t catch me if I fell again.
“Where are we going?” I asked after a moment.
“Thought we could go for a midnight swim,” he said. “Get all this pollen washed off.” He ran his hand through his hair, his rings getting stuck on a green knot of dirty locks. His face screwed up into a look of discomfort he tugged, trying to break his tangled fingers free.
The glint of his ring shone more brightly now that the lanterns had been relit. I looked at the one caught, eyeing the heavy band with the stamped center. A pattern etched into the gold.
My breath caught in my throat.
It was tarnished and well-worn. But there was no mistaking it. It was a Baron’s ring.
“Milo…”
He stopped, staring at me in concern. “Feeling dizzy again?”
I stared pointedly at his ring.
When Milo looked downwards, he had a slight frown on his face, as if he didn’t understand what could possibly make me look so ghostly pale. When he saw what I was fixated on, I watched as his face cleared. Slowly, he held the hand in question up, the ring glinting from the lanterns above.
“What are you doing with a Baron ring?” I asked numbly.
Taking the ring off, he held it out to me. The world felt heated with far more than just the lights as I stared at him in betrayal. His eyes were locked with mine, his face far more serious than I had seen it before. “I was in love with a Baron,” he said slowly. “Malcolm,” he said. “It’s his ring.”
[[You and Hazel’s brother were together?]]
[[But why do you have his ring?]]
[[Why didn’t you tell me before?]]
<<set $miloring to "true">>“It’s okay,” I told him. I almost relished the feel of him. It was grounding in a way. The second his hand sunk against my own I felt myself begin to calm. “Where are we going?”
“Thought we could go for a midnight swim,” he said. “Wash all the pollen off.”
I ran my thumb absently across his hand, the pad of my finger catching on one of the rings that he always wore. Glancing down, I looked to see which one, turning his hand over in mine. It was meant as nothing more than a curious action, but my heart stopped at what I saw.
The gold ring that sat on his index finger was tarnished. The center of it dipped down with a seal, an intricate looking design that looked as if it was coated in rust. The band was thick and the ring itself looked heavy. It was unmistakable though.
It was a Baron’s ring.
“Milo…”
He stopped, staring at me in concern. “Feeling dizzy again?”
I stared pointedly at his ring.
When Milo looked downwards, he had a slight frown on his face, as if he didn’t understand what could possibly make me look so ghostly pale. When he saw what I was fixated on, I watched as his face cleared. Slowly, he held the hand in question up, the ring glinting from the lanterns above.
“What are you doing with a Baron ring?” I asked numbly.
Taking the ring off, he held it out to me. The world felt heated with far more than just the lights as I stared at him in betrayal. His eyes were locked with mine, his face far more serious than I had seen it before. “I was in love with a Baron,” he said slowly. “Malcolm,” he said. “It’s his ring.”
[[You and Hazel’s brother were together?]]
[[But why do you have his ring?]]
[[Why didn’t you tell me before?]]
<<set $miloring to "true">>“I’ll be alright,” I told him, feeling the world begin to clear. The further away from the noise we got, the less full my head was feeling. “I’m steady on my feet now.” As we navigated the alleyways, I felt far more sure-footed than I had in those initial moments.
“Quick recovery,” he said. “That will serve you well in life.”
Turning a corner, we entered an empty street, the moss growing between the cracks of the cobblestone. “Where are we going?” I asked after a moment.
“Thought we could go for a midnight swim,” he said. “Get all this pollen washed off.” He ran his hand through his hair, his rings getting stuck on a green knot of dirty locks. His face screwed up into a look of discomfort he tugged, trying to break his tangled fingers free.
The glint of his ring shone more brightly now that the lanterns had been relit. I looked at the one caught, eyeing the heavy band with the stamped center. A pattern etched into the gold.
My breath caught in my throat.
It was tarnished and well-worn. But there was no mistaking it. It was a Baron’s ring.
“Milo…”
He stopped, staring at me in concern. “Feeling dizzy again?”
I stared pointedly at his ring.
When Milo looked downwards, he had a slight frown on his face, as if he didn’t understand what could possibly make me look so ghostly pale. When he saw what I was fixated on, I watched as his face cleared. Slowly, he held the hand in question up, the ring glinting from the lanterns above.
“What are you doing with a Baron ring?” I asked numbly.
Taking the ring off, he held it out to me. The world felt heated with far more than just the lights as I stared at him in betrayal. His eyes were locked with mine, his face far more serious than I had seen it before. “I was in love with a Baron,” he said slowly. “Malcolm,” he said. “It’s his ring.”
[[You and Hazel’s brother were together?]]
[[But why do you have his ring?]]
[[Why didn’t you tell me before?]]
<<set $miloring to "true">>The name Malcolm had been tossed around a few times at this point. The Gatekeeper. Hazel’s brother. The man who had died and whose power had scattered to the wind somewhere in the market. For all we knew, he could still be out there. Still be the very person we were looking for. But his ring was in Milo’s hand.
And Milo had loved the very man who had died so long ago.
“You and Hazel’s brother were together?” I asked, not sure how I felt about this information.
He nodded. “Off and on.”
“And you loved him?”
“He was a hard man not t love,” Milo said, the ring still held out in front of him. “Here. Hold it. There is no power to it. No thrum of magic. It is inoperable. To anyone but the Gatekeeper that is.”
I took it from him, feeling the weight heavy in my palm. I remembered Chrysanthemum’s. Her’s glowed faintly. It hummed with power as she had extracted magic from it. This one sat lifeless. A cold piece of gold and nothing more.
“Isn’t it dangerous to wear this?” I asked.
“Each ring is coded specifically to the Baron that has them. This one was coded to Malcolm. It should have been coded to the new Gatekeeper as well but no one came to claim it from his body other than me.” He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. “I know it may be morbid to wear the ring of a dead man but Mal and I were good friends. He was family. I wanted to keep at least one thing of his. Plus, he would have hated me wearing this ring so it’s kind of a fuck you to up and dying on me.”
They had no closure, the two of them. Malcolm was someone who may or may not have been in his life forever. A relationship that was lasting. But the opportunity to discover that had been taken from the both of them. How could anyone fault him for keeping the memory close?
Nodding, I handed the ring back to him. He slipped it back on his finger, twisting it a little to get it to fit just right, before looking at me curiously. “Are you alright? I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I just– It gave me a scare for a moment. Not the Malcolm thing but the ring. I felt for a minute like we had all been fooled. Like you were keeping this from us, right beneath our noses.”
“I’d be a pretty devious son of a bitch if I was,” he said ruefully. “And besides, everyone has seen this ring. Gabriel included. Hazel might have let it slide because she loves me enough, but Gabriel doesn’t give two shits about me and if he thought I was a Baron, he would be dragging my ass to the meetings.”
I felt a cool sense of relief wash over me. Somehow, knowing that the Warden knew made me trust Milo’s words a bit more. Because Milo was right. One look at a signet ring like that and Gabriel would have called him out on it from the get go. That, and the second the conversation about the Gatekeeper’s whereabouts was called into question, Gabriel or Belladonna would have revealed his secret.
[[Have you tried using it?]]
[[Do you think that Hazel could use it to get him back?]]
[[I’m sorry for calling that into question]]
<<set $askmilo to "true">>
The name Malcolm had been tossed around a few times at this point. The Gatekeeper. Hazel’s brother. The man who had died and whose power had scattered to the wind somewhere in the market. For all we knew, he could still be out there. Still be the very person we were looking for. But his ring was in Milo’s hand.
And Milo had loved the very man who had died so long ago.
“But why do you have it?” I asked, feeling myself confused over the new information. It felt as if it were something Hazel should have. Or, something that perhaps needed to be locked away, given the power it represented.
“Sentimentality,” he told me, his smile a bit pained. The ring was still held out before him, perched between his long fingers as an offering. “Here. Hold it. There is no power to it. No thrum of magic. It is inoperable. To anyone but the Gatekeeper that is.”
I took it from him, feeling the weight heavy in my palm. I remembered Chrysanthemum’s. Her’s glowed faintly. It hummed with power as she had extracted magic from it. This one sat lifeless. A cold piece of gold and nothing more.
“Isn’t it dangerous to wear this?” I asked.
“Each ring is coded specifically to the Baron that has them. This one was coded to Malcolm. It should have been coded to the new Gatekeeper as well but no one came to claim it from his body other than me.” He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. “I know it may be morbid to wear the ring of a dead man but Mal and I were good friends. He was family. I wanted to keep at least one thing of his. Plus, he would have hated me wearing this ring so it’s kind of a fuck you to up and dying on me.”
They had no closure, the two of them. Malcolm was someone who may or may not have been in his life forever. A relationship that was lasting. But the opportunity to discover that had been taken from the both of them. How could anyone fault him for keeping the memory close?
Nodding, I handed the ring back to him. He slipped it back on his finger, twisting it a little to get it to fit just right, before looking at me curiously. “Are you alright? I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I just– It gave me a scare for a moment. Not the Malcolm thing but the ring. I felt for a minute like we had all been fooled. Like you were keeping this from us, right beneath our noses.”
“I’d be a pretty devious son of a bitch if I was,” he said ruefully. “And besides, everyone has seen this ring. Gabriel included. Hazel might have let it slide because she loves me enough, but Gabriel doesn’t give two shits about me and if he thought I was a Baron, he would be dragging my ass to the meetings.”
I felt a cool sense of relief wash over me. Somehow, knowing that the Warden knew made me trust Milo’s words a bit more. Because Milo was right. One look at a signet ring like that and Gabriel would have called him out on it from the get go. That, and the second the conversation about the Gatekeeper’s whereabouts was called into question, Gabriel or Belladonna would have revealed his secret.
[[Have you tried using it?]]
[[Do you think that Hazel could use it to get him back?]]
[[I’m sorry for calling that into question]]
<<set $askmilo to "true">>
<<$perception ++>>The name Malcolm had been tossed around a few times at this point. The Gatekeeper. Hazel’s brother. The man who had died and whose power had scattered to the wind somewhere in the market. For all we knew, he could still be out there. Still be the very person we were looking for. But his ring was in Milo’s hand.
And Milo had loved the very man who had died so long ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked.
“You got the important bits of that story,” he told me. “My relationship with him wasn’t exactly something that I felt contributed to the entire Gatekeeper drama.” He had kept quiet that day, mostly sticking to the facts as opposed to his personal emotions on the matter. <<if $miloro == "true">> “As for me telling you because of what you and I might be?” he winced a little. “I honestly didn’t know how. Never had to tell a new interest that my old interest died tragically. Didn’t really seem like a topic to bring up on the first few dates.”<</if>>
Sometimes it was hard to remember that Milo had I had only just started seeing each other. I wondered how many people had known about the two of them on the day we discussed the Gatekeeper.
The ring was still held out before him, perched between his long fingers as an offering. “Here. Hold it. There is no power to it. No thrum of magic. It is inoperable. To anyone but the Gatekeeper that is.”
I took it from him, feeling the weight heavy in my palm. I remembered Chrysanthemum’s. Her’s glowed faintly. It hummed with power as she had extracted magic from it. This one sat lifeless. A cold piece of gold and nothing more.
“Isn’t it dangerous to wear this?” I asked.
“Each ring is coded specifically to the Baron that has them. This one was coded to Malcolm. It should have been coded to the new Gatekeeper as well but no one came to claim it from his body other than me.” He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. “I know it may be morbid to wear the ring of a dead man but Mal and I were good friends. He was family. I wanted to keep at least one thing of his. Plus, he would have hated me wearing this ring so it’s kind of a fuck you to up and dying on me.”
They had no closure, the two of them. Malcolm was someone who may or may not have been in his life forever. A relationship that was lasting. But the opportunity to discover that had been taken from the both of them. How could anyone fault him for keeping the memory close?
Nodding, I handed the ring back to him. He slipped it back on his finger, twisting it a little to get it to fit just right, before looking at me curiously. “Are you alright? I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I just– It gave me a scare for a moment. Not the Malcolm thing but the ring. I felt for a minute like we had all been fooled. Like you were keeping this from us, right beneath our noses.”
“I’d be a pretty devious son of a bitch if I was,” he said ruefully. “And besides, everyone has seen this ring. Gabriel included. Hazel might have let it slide because she loves me enough, but Gabriel doesn’t give two shits about me and if he thought I was a Baron, he would be dragging my ass to the meetings.”
I felt a cool sense of relief wash over me. Somehow, knowing that the Warden knew made me trust Milo’s words a bit more. Because Milo was right. One look at a signet ring like that and Gabriel would have called him out on it from the get go. That, and the second the conversation about the Gatekeeper’s whereabouts was called into question, Gabriel or Belladonna would have revealed his secret.
[[Have you tried using it?]]
[[Do you think that Hazel could use it to get him back?]]
[[I’m sorry for calling that into question]]
<<set $askmilo to "true">>
“Have you tried to use it?” I asked. Maybe the power was still there. Still accessible somehow. The Gatekeeper may have been lost to us but if their magic was still available then maybe it was something we could use. The ring could have very well been our answer.
The sigh that Milo gave me as he ran his thumb across the ring, said otherwise. “Yeah,” he said. “More than you might know. Hazel and I were certain that one of us had to be the next Baron. We were there, after all. But…” he trailed off, looking at the ring sadly. He didn’t want to talk about this. It was clearly written all over his face. “It really is just a hunk of metal.”
“Maybe you used it wrong?” I ventured.
He raised a brow towards me. “Me? Do something wrong? Never.”
“Milo…”
He held up his hand. “If you can figure out a way to use it, I will gladly offer my help. But I’ve had it for a decade, $name. Nothing. It has never once been helpful.” His words were edged with the end of a conversation. Not that I could blame him. He was eager to move on from the subject of his dead lover.
Nodding, I agreed to table the subject for now. I doubted there was anything I could come up with on the spot that he hadn’t already.
We wandered in easy silence, letting the filtered sounds of the party behind us drift away. The air became cooler as the sound of water replaced the laughter and ringing bells of the carnival. Tilting my head upwards, I stared at the lanterns, in awe of how different they already looked. In a matter of moments it felt as if the Night Market was completely renewed. It would have been so easy to believe that it had somehow fixed itself. That all the problems we had been panicking about earlier, were taken care of just from the stomping of feet and the belief that everything would be okay after tonight.
“Here,” Milo said, turning us towards a set of stairs. They were carved into a dirt hill and slid precarious beneath our feet as we made our way down. When we hopped off the final two steps, my feet landed on soft moss and loamy soil. Before me, was a cliff face. Sheer in nature and reaching up past the lights above. Water trickled in a long, shimmering line, before bursting forth into the quiet roar of a small waterfall. It splashed into a pool of deep blue, the depths of which were clear for miles.
Turning, I looked towards Milo. He was slipping his suspenders from his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Swimming. What will you be doing?” he challenged as he continued to strip.
[[Meet his gaze and strip as well]]
[[(blush) Strip but don’t look at him]]
[[Roll your eyes but stay in your underclothes]]
[[(blush) stay in your underclothes]]Staring at it, I thought of Hazel though. “Do you think that could help? I know Hazel wants to get him back. Do you think it could bring him home or–” I trailed off. <<if $miloro == "true">> Suddenly, I realized the implications of my statement. I had originally only thought of it in terms of getting the Gatekeeper home, but now… I looked up at Milo. How would I feel if suddenly, the man he loved, was back in his life?<</if>>
“Once,” he said. “I gave it to her once for a ritual she thought she could use it for. And I’ll never do it again.”
There was something dark in his voice. A hidden moment that haunted him to this day. “What happened?”
“I almost lost her,” he said. I felt myself shudder at his words. They were flat, devoid of emotion. “Hazel is sweet and kind but it is not in her nature to be. Her power is violent and can so easily get out of control. I won’t do it again. And I’m going to need to ask you to not help her. If she asks you to aid her in getting Mal back, please tell her no.”
“Why?”
“Because he isn’t coming back, $name. If he was, it would have happened by now. And the more we let Hazel believe he is, the longer it is going to take her to let go.”
I thought of those warm eyes and the sweet smile. The woman who was so self-sacrificing. That missed her brother more than anything. I didn’t know if I could do what Milo was asking. Then again, I didn’t know if I needed to answer him at this moment. He was already looking as if he were eager to move on.
“You said there was a place we could wash up?” I asked. He nodded at me and I did not miss the relief in his eyes.
We wandered in easy silence, letting the filtered sounds of the party behind us drift away. The air became cooler as the sound of water replaced the laughter and ringing bells of the carnival. Tilting my head upwards, I stared at the lanterns, in awe of how different they already looked. In a matter of moments it felt as if the Night Market was completely renewed. It would have been so easy to believe that it had somehow fixed itself. That all the problems we had been panicking about earlier, were taken care of just from the stomping of feet and the belief that everything would be okay after tonight.
“Here,” Milo said, turning us towards a set of stairs. They were carved into a dirt hill and slid precarious beneath our feet as we made our way down. When we hopped off the final two steps, my feet landed on soft moss and loamy soil. Before me, was a cliff face. Sheer in nature and reaching up past the lights above. Water trickled in a long, shimmering line, before bursting forth into the quiet roar of a small waterfall. It splashed into a pool of deep blue, the depths of which were clear for miles.
Turning, I looked towards Milo. He was slipping his suspenders from his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Swimming. What will you be doing?” he challenged as he continued to strip.
[[Meet his gaze and strip as well]]
[[(blush) Strip but don’t look at him]]
[[Roll your eyes but stay in your underclothes]]
[[(blush) stay in your underclothes]]“I’m sorry,” I told him softly. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that.”
Milo laughed mirthlessly. “How could you not? You met with a Baron today and then found out I’ve been wearing one of their rings all along? I’d question me too.”
“Yeah, but, I’m new here. I– if you were the Baron, someone would have figured that out much sooner than me.”
He looked slightly offended by that. “I’m a good liar. I could do it. I mean, just the other day, I told Hazel that I loved the soup she made. I didn’t. It had corn in it. But she was never the wiser.”
I shook my head. “She knew, Milo. All of us know your hatred for corn.”
“Aw, shit,” he grinned. “Guess I suck at lyin’ then.” Leaning forward, he caught my eye, bringing my attention back up. “We good?”
I had gotten ahead of myself. The ring looked dull and unassuming. And while it may be helpful to us in the future, it meant nothing right now. “We’re good,” I assured him.
We wandered in easy silence, letting the filtered sounds of the party behind us drift away. The air became cooler as the sound of water replaced the laughter and ringing bells of the carnival. Tilting my head upwards, I stared at the lanterns, in awe of how different they already looked. In a matter of moments it felt as if the Night Market was completely renewed. It would have been so easy to believe that it had somehow fixed itself. That all the problems we had been panicking about earlier, were taken care of just from the stomping of feet and the belief that everything would be okay after tonight.
“Here,” Milo said, turning us towards a set of stairs. They were carved into a dirt hill and slid precarious beneath our feet as we made our way down. When we hopped off the final two steps, my feet landed on soft moss and loamy soil. Before me, was a cliff face. Sheer in nature and reaching up past the lights above. Water trickled in a long, shimmering line, before bursting forth into the quiet roar of a small waterfall. It splashed into a pool of deep blue, the depths of which were clear for miles.
Turning, I looked towards Milo. He was slipping his suspenders from his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Swimming. What will you be doing?” he challenged as he continued to strip.
[[Meet his gaze and strip as well]]
[[(blush) Strip but don’t look at him]]
[[Roll your eyes but stay in your underclothes]]
[[(blush) stay in your underclothes]]I stared at him as slowly, I stripped off my own clothes, meeting his challenge tenfold. The grin that he gave me in return was feral, but I noticed how his eyes didn’t flicker down. Not yet. Suddenly, I was all too aware of the game of chicken we had entered.
Leaving our garments out on the shore, we entered into the water. Milo went first, facing away from me, and I took a moment to appreciate the musculature of his back. The way each shoulder was defined. Strong thighs sank down into the water with a pleasured hiss, his rounded ass disappearing from view. When he looked back over his shoulder at me, I made sure my eyes were front and center.
“Cheater,” he said.
I rolled my lips into my mouth, not responding. Instead, I dipped myself down, so the water touched just beneath my chin and gasped loudly as my body adjusted to the cold. “Is this an ice melt or something?” I chattered, looking over at the waterfall.
Milo dove into the water without a response. I watched him, the water so clear that I could see as he swam down down down, easily slicing through the small pond's depths. Touching the bottom he flipped around before pushing himself back upwards. When he broke the surface, he was right in front of me. His hair was plastered to his face, the pigment from our dance in the field all but washed away. Beads of water stuck to his lashes, flung aside as he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back from his face.
“Wanna see if you can reach the bottom?”
I splashed him then, diving downwards and feeling the water cut through me. It felt like heaven after the sweat that had coated my skin. A stark difference from the haze that had settled against us across the dance floor. When I came back up, I had a mouthful of water and spit it at him, watching as he only barely ducked out of the way. It was a challenge that he took quite nicely, and before I knew it, had dove at me with a holler, splashing and kicking water my way.
I shrieked as he sent an arc of the blue water towards me, his onslaught steady and continuous. I could hear him laugh and felt my chest ache with my own bubble of happiness. Above us, the lanterns all glowed a pale silver, reflecting against the water in the perfect light of a blue moon.
We settled by the waterfall, the roar of it not as loud as I once thought it to be. We were both panting and out of breath, my heart skipping against my chest.
When I looked at him, I felt the air grow thick. His pupils were blown as he stared at me, and the laughter guttered from my throat. His gaze flicked downwards for one long drag against my skin, the water doing nothing to hide myself from his eyes. When he shuffled forward, his feet barely touched the ground, I could hear the ragged dip in his breath.
“Tell me no,” he said softly. “Tell me no, and we will walk out of this pool. No harm done.”
[[No. I wasn’t ready]]
[[I wanted this]]
[[Sex was not something that interested me]]I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I adverted my eyes, beginning to strip off my own clothes. Shuffling, I disappeared behind a rock, making sure he could not see me.
“Spoil sport,” he called out.
“Don’t look,” I yelled back. I could hear him getting in the water and I ventured a small peak. He was facing away from me, and I took a moment to appreciate the musculature of his back. The way each shoulder was defined. Strong thighs sank down into the water with a pleasured hiss, his rounded ass disappearing from view. I quickly ducked back behind the rock as I saw him begin to turn around.
“Alright, I’m not looking.”
“Yes you are,” I called out.
“And how would you know that?” he asked with a soft chuckle. I felt the heat light up my face completely then. “Alright, really this time. I’m not looking.” Slowly, I poked my head out from behind the rock. He was facing away though the water did little to hide anything. It more just distorted what was beneath its depths.
Quickly, before he could turn around, I ran into the water, diving completely in. When I came up for air, I gasped loudly. “Is this snow melt or something?” The water was bitter cold and was chasing away any embarrassment I may have had.
Milo dove into the water without a response. I watched him, the water so clear that I could see as he swam down down down, easily slicing through the small pond's depths. Touching the bottom he flipped around before pushing himself back upwards. When he broke the surface, he was right in front of me. His hair was plastered to his face, the pigment from our dance in the field all but washed away. Beads of water stuck to his lashes, flung aside as he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back from his face.
“Wanna see if you can reach the bottom?”
I splashed him then, diving downwards and feeling the water cut through me. It felt like heaven after the sweat that had coated my skin. A stark difference from the haze that had settled against us across the dance floor. When I came back up, I had a mouthful of water and spit it at him, watching as he only barely ducked out of the way. It was a challenge that he took quite nicely, and before I knew it, had dove at me with a holler, splashing and kicking water my way.
I shrieked as he sent an arc of the blue water towards me, his onslaught steady and continuous. I could hear him laugh and felt my chest ache with my own bubble of happiness. Above us, the lanterns all glowed a pale silver, reflecting against the water in the perfect light of a blue moon.
We settled by the waterfall, the roar of it not as loud as I once thought it to be. We were both panting and out of breath, my heart skipping against my chest.
When I looked at him, I felt the air grow thick. His pupils were blown as he stared at me, and the laughter guttered from my throat. His gaze flicked downwards for one long drag against my skin, the water doing nothing to hide myself from his eyes. When he shuffled forward, his feet barely touched the ground, I could hear the ragged dip in his breath.
“Tell me no,” he said softly. “Tell me no, and we will walk out of this pool. No harm done.”
[[No. I wasn’t ready]]
[[I wanted this]]
[[Sex was not something that interested me]]I rolled my eyes at him, stripping down to my underclothes, despite Milo stripping completely out of his. I could see the pout on his face when he saw me going no further and I raised a brow at him.
“What? These did not get dirty.”
He laughed at that, making his way into the water. He was facing away from me, and I took a moment to appreciate the musculature of his back. The way each shoulder was defined. Strong thighs sank down into the water with a pleasured hiss, his rounded ass disappearing from view.
“Liking what you see?” he called over his shoulder.
I didn’t answer him, figuring following him into the blue depths would be indication enough. As I waded my way through the placid pool, I hissed loudly however, feeling my belly concave as it slipped beneath the surface. “Is this an ice melt?” I chattered. The water was just on the other side of uncomfortable, and I didn’t know how he was so easily making his way into the deeper portion.
Milo dove into the water without a response. I watched him, the water so clear that I could see as he swam down down down, easily slicing through the small pond's depths. Touching the bottom he flipped around before pushing himself back upwards. When he broke the surface, he was right in front of me. His hair was plastered to his face, the pigment from our dance in the field all but washed away. Beads of water stuck to his lashes, flung aside as he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back from his face.
“Wanna see if you can reach the bottom?”
I splashed him then, diving downwards and feeling the water cut through me. It felt like heaven after the sweat that had coated my skin. A stark difference from the haze that had settled against us across the dance floor. When I came back up, I had a mouthful of water and spit it at him, watching as he only barely ducked out of the way. It was a challenge that he took quite nicely, and before I knew it, had dove at me with a holler, splashing and kicking water my way.
I shrieked as he sent an arc of the blue water towards me, his onslaught steady and continuous. I could hear him laugh and felt my chest ache with my own bubble of happiness. Above us, the lanterns all glowed a pale silver, reflecting against the water in the perfect light of a blue moon.
We settled by the waterfall, the roar of it not as loud as I once thought it to be. We were both panting and out of breath, my heart skipping against my chest.
When I looked at him, I felt the air grow thick. His pupils were blown as he stared at me, and the laughter guttered from my throat. His gaze flicked downwards for one long drag against my skin, the water doing nothing to hide myself from his eyes. When he shuffled forward, his feet barely touched the ground, I could hear the ragged dip in his breath.
“Tell me no,” he said softly. “Tell me no, and we will walk out of this pool. No harm done.”
[[No. I wasn’t ready]]
[[I wanted this]]
[[Sex was not something that interested me]]I stripped down to my underclothes, despite Milo stripping completely out of his. I could see the pout on his face when he saw me going no further and felt the way his eyes lingered against the areas of skin that were exposed. I felt my throat go dry and two pinpricks of red brighten the tops of my cheeks.
“What?” I croaked out nervously. “These didn’t get dirty.”
He laughed at that, making his way into the water. He was facing away from me, and I took a moment to appreciate the musculature of his back. The way each shoulder was defined. Strong thighs sank down into the water with a pleasured hiss, his rounded ass disappearing from view.
“Liking what you see?” he called over his shoulder.
I didn’t answer him as I quickly adverted my eyes and made my way in after him. The moment my skin touched the water though, I felt myself suck in a deep intake of breath. “Is this an ice melt?” I chattered. The water was just on the other side of uncomfortable, and I didn’t know how he was so easily making his way into the deeper portion.
Milo dove into the water without a response. I watched him, the water so clear that I could see as he swam down down down, easily slicing through the small pond's depths. Touching the bottom he flipped around before pushing himself back upwards. When he broke the surface, he was right in front of me. His hair was plastered to his face, the pigment from our dance in the field all but washed away. Beads of water stuck to his lashes, flung aside as he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back from his face.
“Wanna see if you can reach the bottom?”
I splashed him then, diving downwards and feeling the water cut through me. It felt like heaven after the sweat that had coated my skin. A stark difference from the haze that had settled against us across the dance floor. When I came back up, I had a mouthful of water and spit it at him, watching as he only barely ducked out of the way. It was a challenge that he took quite nicely, and before I knew it, had dove at me with a holler, splashing and kicking water my way.
I shrieked as he sent an arc of the blue water towards me, his onslaught steady and continuous. I could hear him laugh and felt my chest ache with my own bubble of happiness. Above us, the lanterns all glowed a pale silver, reflecting against the water in the perfect light of a blue moon.
We settled by the waterfall, the roar of it not as loud as I once thought it to be. We were both panting and out of breath, my heart skipping against my chest.
When I looked at him, I felt the air grow thick. His pupils were blown as he stared at me, and the laughter guttered from my throat. His gaze flicked downwards for one long drag against my skin, the water doing nothing to hide myself from his eyes. When he shuffled forward, his feet barely touched the ground, I could hear the ragged dip in his breath.
“Tell me no,” he said softly. “Tell me no, and we will walk out of this pool. No harm done.”
[[No. I wasn’t ready]]
[[I wanted this]]
[[Sex was not something that interested me]]The world around me cooled. “I don’t think I can do this,” I told him.
His response was immediate as he pushed away. I searched his face, looking for the anger or the disappointment, but there was none of that.
“Do you want to have a diving contest with me?” he asked.
I paused, just staring at him for a long moment. The man had just been rejected after the two of us danced away the night and swam with little between us but water. And now he was asking to go diving.
“You’re not upset?” I asked.
The look he gave me was incredulous. “Upset? Why would I be upset?”
“Because…” I gestured between us.
“$name,” his tone turned serious. “If anyone out there is upset that you don’t want to fuck them, that’s their problem, not yours. And may I suggest you disassociate yourself with them. No one needs that in their life.” A slow and friendly smile appeared on his lips. “Now, would you like to go diving with me. There are several shells down there, and I want to see which one of us is quickest.”
I felt safety wrap around me. A sense of comfort at his words. The night was not ruined. The guilt that I had felt creeping in was suddenly dissipated. “I’d like that,” I said.
“Good.” And Milo dove down without question, gathering the bits of shell from the bottom of the pool. I watched him only for a moment before joining him. With the lanterns now refreshed, we could see nearly to the bottom. The magic still thrummed within the world, coursing through the night and weaving its spell through the alley. Neither of us felt it though. It was more important to find the best seashell and sabotage the other's growing pile.
[[Chapter Six]]There was something that was coiling deep within my belly as his arms were braced along either side of me, locking me in place. Behind me, the cool dip of the waterfall fell across my shoulders, slicing across my chest. The heat from Milo was nearly unbearable and I watched as the water beaded across his skin, rolling down the lines of his arms.
Swallowing thickly, I looked at him. “I don’t think I can do that.”
He didn’t wait. Grabbing me by the hips, he pulled me forward, searching out my mouth hungrily. I could feel his tongue seek out the seam of my lips, licking the roof of my mouth as he angled my head just right. I felt him, hot and hard against my thigh and as I shifted against him, rubbing my leg just right, I heard his gasp echo through my ears.
“$name,” he panted.
Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I pressed my forehead against his, wrapping my legs around his waist and anchoring myself to him. He lifted me out of the water, pressing my back against cold stone until I hovered above him.
Through the thick of his lashes, he looked up at me, his eyes a deep gold. “There’s no going back after this,” he said.
“I know.”
I saw the moment it broke in his eyes. The last bit of his resolve. Grabbing me firmly, he sought out my mouth again, running his fingers up through the backs of my $haircolor hair while my own hands curled against his shoulders, a desperate whine escaping my lips.
[[Fade to black|Aftercare]]
[[Go forward. No fade to black for me]]
<<set $sleepwithmilo to "true">>“We need to stop.”
Backing off, Milo put his hands up in the air, the water slicing around him. “Done.”
“No, Milo.” I sighed, dragging a hand across my face. “It’s more complicated than that. It’s not… I… we just need to have a conversation, okay? I didn’t think it was one we would have to have but, well, you are a very spontaneous person, it seems.”
The water was heating around us. Drifts of steam rolled across the surface, curling around our bodies to protect us from the night chill.
“No. I get it. Tonight has been a lot. You’ve been through a lot.” It was odd to think that I had passed out not too long ago. The magic of the market pulsing through me with a force that had sent me to my knees.
“It’s not– I just don’t know if sex is something I want,” I told him in a rush. “It’s not about not wanting you though. If that makes sense.”
Milo paused, staring at me through the dim fog. He had his head tilted to the side, a curious expression on his face. “So this is strictly about sex?”
“Yes.”
“Do you not want to have it at all or are you someone that wants to have it on occasion if it feels right?” There was no judgement in his tone. Just a simple askance. Like he wasn’t quite sure where his line would be.
[[Not at all]]
[[If it feels right. Which is not right now]]
[[If it feels right. Which is right now]]
<<set $asexual to "true">>How do you identify?
[[Born male and present as male|Milo/M NSFW]]
[[Born female and present as female|Milo/F NSFW]]
[[Born male and present as female|Milo/TF NSFW]]
[[Born female and present as male|Milo/TM NSFW]]
<<if $relationship == "false">>Afterward, we made our way to shore, muscles delightfully sore and skin kiss bitten and bruised. Slowly, we gathered our clothes, tugging them back on. Milo was eyeing me out of the corner of his eye. Neither of us had spoken yet.
Dressed, he stared at me for a solid moment, running his fingers through his soaked locks of hair. “I feel like I should be saying something significant here. Or at least I need to walk you home.”
I looked towards the way we had come. I doubted I’d be able to find my way back on my own. I really did need to learn the market a bit more.
“Do you want to walk me home?” I didn’t know if he was looking for a way out.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, a bit confused.
“I didn’t know if this,” I gestured between us, “changed anything.”
“It changes everything,” he said. “We now know what the other one looks like naked. That’s a power all on its own.” His serious expression broke out into a smile. “It doesn't need to change anything,” he told me after a moment. “You know that right?”
[[I don’t want it to change anything]]
[[What if I want it to?]]<<elseif $miloro == "true">> Afterward, we made our way to the shore, muscles delightfully sore and skin kiss bitten and bruised. I went to go gather my clothes, all too aware suddenly that we were out in the open. While the alley had butted off to a dead end, anyone could have wandered down here.
But Milo caught my wrist, gently tugging me towards him. “Hey,” he said, pulling me close and running his lips along my jaw. “Where you going?”
“Someone could wander down here,” I told him, my eyes ticking towards the steps in which we had appeared from.
“Yeah?” he chuckled. “You going shy on me?”
[[I didn’t care if anyone saw us]]
[[Yes. Clothes now]]
[[No, I trust you]]<</if>>
<<set $milosex to "true">>“I don’t want it to change anything.” Not now. Maybe not ever. In all honesty, I kind of liked the way Milo and I were. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to mess with that.
“Darlin’, whatever you want,” he drawled. “I’m just along for the ride.”
Slipping his feet into his boots, he looked up at the bright lights above. “Come on,” he said. “The party is still going on out there. Let me buy you a drink before I take you home.”
We left the waterfall and the light of the pond behind. As I made my way up the stairs, I felt pleasantly numb. The day had started with me seeking out a Baron and had ended with pleasured moans that mingled with the sound of trickling water. I smiled a bit at that. It felt nice to be with Milo in that way and find some sort of release. He was easy going and I thought that maybe I provided him with something as well. A release that he hadn’t quite gotten from his drunken fumbles in the backs of bars.
Not that it mattered. Whether I looked at it as a fling or the start of something more, remained to be seen. All in all, though, it really wasn’t that bad of a way to spend my first Lantern Festival.
[[Chapter Six]]“And what if I want it to?” I asked. The lantern light above trickled down upon me, sending goosebumps along my bare arms.
“Darlin’, whatever you want,” he drawled. “I’m just along for the ride.”
Slipping his feet into his boots, he looked up at the bright lights above. “Come on,” he said. “The party is still going on out there. Let me buy you a drink before I take you home.”
We left the waterfall and the light of the pond behind. As I made my way up the stairs, I felt pleasantly numb. The day had started with me seeking out a Baron and had ended with pleasured moans that mingled with the sound of trickling water. I smiled a bit at that. It felt nice to be with Milo. He was an easy person to be around and I could see myself wanting more as time went on. I took a small amount of pride in how relaxed he was now looking. I was hopeful I provided him with something as well. A release that he hadn’t quite gotten from his drunken fumbles in the backs of bars.
Not that it mattered. Whether I looked at it as a fling or the start of something more, remained to be seen. All in all, though, it really wasn’t that bad of a way to spend my first Lantern Festival.
[[Chapter Six]]I stretched languidly, feeling my back pop as I arched backwards. Milo watched me appreciatively, eyeing every inch of me. His gaze lingered on the areas I knew I was bruised from his lips.
“I don’t care if anyone sees us,” I told him. “Way you make it sound half the market has seen you anyway,” I teased.
He snorted a bit as he reached for me, drawing me close. “It’s those damn posters of my ass that people keep hanging up,” he said seriously. “Honestly, wanted posters should not scar children. We really should be talking to the Warden about that.”
Walking a few feet away to a small bed of moss, Milo tugged me down with him, not ready to leave our sanctuary just yet. Bright spots colored the apples of Milo’s cheeks as he twisted us on our sides to face one another. His lashes brushed against his freckled skin as he blinked lazily.
Bringing one hand up, I ran it through the wet locks of his hair. He hummed a bit in response. When his eyes fluttered open to land on mine, he grinned brightly, pulling me close. The water was washing away any evidence of our coupling and soothing any bits of irritated or stretched skin.
“Can we do that again?” he asked.
“Now?”
“No,” he laughed. It was a deep rumble I hadn’t heard from him. “But I’m just seeing if the option is still there. If it’s allowed. Or if I was so horrible you are going to swear off men forever.
“Only ones with shaggy blonde hair and honey eyes,” I joked. I felt light. Nearly weightless. My muscles pleasantly numb.
“Oh good.” Nuzzling me, he placed a sloppy kiss to my neck. I was sure there were going to be marks there come morning. I was also equally sure that Milo would have a bite to match.
Slowly, we extracted from each other and made our way back to shore where our clothes were. Milo flopped down on the moss, curling one arm behind his head and looking up at me pointedly. “We don’t have towels,” he said. “Might as well bask in the moonlight for a bit, so we don’t do the walk of shame drenched.”
[[Curl into his arms]]
[[Pull him into your arms]]My eyes kept skittering towards the stairs. I couldn’t help it. “Clothes,” I told him. “Now.”
Laughing, Milo drew me near, turning our bodies so his back faced the stairs, blocking my own. When he tugged his shirt over my head, I blinked back at him. He didn’t move to grab his clothes and instead, he walked a few feet away to a small bed of moss, before tugging me down with him. Bright spots colored the apples of Milo’s cheeks as he twisted us on our sides to face one another. His lashes brushed against his freckled skin as he blinked lazily.
“Milo,” I warned.
“No one is comin’ down here, darlin’,” he drawled with certainty. “And if they do, I’ll stand up and jiggle about until they run away.”
Bringing one hand up, I ran it through the wet locks of his hair. He hummed a bit in response. When his eyes fluttered open to land on mine, he grinned brightly, pulling me close. The water was washing away any evidence of our coupling and soothing any bits of irritated or stretched skin.
“Can we do that again?” he asked.
“Now?”
“No,” he laughed. It was a deep rumble I hadn’t heard from him. “But I’m just seeing if the option is still there. If it’s allowed. Or if I was so horrible you are going to swear off men forever.
“Only ones with shaggy blonde hair and honey eyes,” I joked. I felt light. Nearly weightless. My muscles pleasantly numb.
“Oh good.” Nuzzling me, he placed a sloppy kiss to my neck. I was sure there were going to be marks there come morning. I was also equally sure that Milo would have a bite to match.
Slowly, we extracted from each other and made our way back to shore where our clothes were. Milo flopped down on the moss, curling one arm behind his head and looking up at me pointedly. “We don’t have towels,” he said. “Might as well bask in the moonlight for a bit, so we don’t do the walk of shame drenched.”
[[Curl into his arms]]
[[Pull him into your arms]]While his tone was teasing I knew in a heartbeat that if I was truly uncomfortable, he would pull his own shirt over me and shield me until I was ready. It was a knowledge that was hard to come by and knowing that Milo would never put me in a position where I was ill at ease, settled me into a relaxed state that I hadn’t known I needed.
“I trust you,” I told him, looking him in the eye. There was a gravity that flashed across his face at my words as his grip on me tightened. When he leaned down to kiss me again, I opened my mouth to his, sighing as his fingers curled around my hip. When he pulled away, he was smiling once more, covering the rawness I had just seen.
Walking a few feet away to a small bed of moss, Milo tugged me down with him, not ready to leave our sanctuary just yet. Bright spots colored the apples of Milo’s cheeks as he twisted us on our sides to face one another. His lashes brushed against his freckled skin as he blinked lazily.
Bringing one hand up, I ran it through the wet locks of his hair. He hummed a bit in response. When his eyes fluttered open to land on mine, he grinned brightly, pulling me close. The water was washing away any evidence of our coupling and soothing any bits of irritated or stretched skin.
“Can we do that again?” he asked.
“Now?”
“No,” he laughed. It was a deep rumble I hadn’t heard from him. “But I’m just seeing if the option is still there. If it’s allowed. Or if I was so horrible you are going to swear off men forever.
“Only ones with shaggy blonde hair and honey eyes,” I joked. I felt light. Nearly weightless. My muscles pleasantly numb.
“Oh good.” Nuzzling me, he placed a sloppy kiss to my neck. I was sure there were going to be marks there come morning. I was also equally sure that Milo would have a bite to match.
Slowly, we extracted from each other and made our way back to shore where our clothes were. Milo flopped down on the moss, curling one arm behind his head and looking up at me pointedly. “We don’t have towels,” he said. “Might as well bask in the moonlight for a bit, so we don’t do the walk of shame drenched.”
[[Curl into his arms]]
[[Pull him into your arms]]I curled into his arms and felt him wrap himself around me. With my head resting on his chest, I could feel the thud of his heart beneath my ear. “You never answered my question,” he whispered.
“Are you fishing for compliments?” I teased.
He was silent for a moment. “More making sure this isn’t a one time dream like I keep thinking it is.”
Tilting my face upwards, I looked into his honeyed eyes. “No, Milo. This isn’t a dream.”
He swallowed thickly, looking at me with a profound sense of gravity. “Good,” he croaked out.
As I laid back down, I felt him shift, twitching beneath me. During the day Milo was constantly moving. It seemed like he was the same even in the dead of night. When he finally did still, I felt him melt into the moss below, his muscles loosening and his hold around me growing a bit more lax.
Running my fingers up and down his side, I looked up at him. His eyes were heavy lidded and his mouth slightly parted. “Are you falling asleep?” I asked quietly, just in case he was.
“Just for a minute,” he muttered.
I laughed. “Milo. We can’t just sleep naked by the pond.”
But he was already snoring.
I would let him sleep that night. Just for a minute, as he requested. Softly, I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the way my body fit against his own. Above us, the lanterns burned brightly, and a warm wind descended upon us, as if the market knew the chill would be too much.
Closing my eyes, I sighed. Just for a minute.
We would rest. Just for a minute.
[[Chapter Six]]I pulled him close to me, and he came willingly, resting against my chest, one hand drawing lazy circles against my hip. “You never answered my question,” he whispered.
“Are you fishing for compliments?” I teased.
He was silent for a moment. “More making sure this isn’t a one time dream like I keep thinking it is.”
Tilting his face upwards, I looked into his honeyed eyes. “No, Milo. This isn’t a dream.”
He swallowed thickly, looking at me with a profound sense of gravity. “Good,” he croaked out.
Releasing him, I let him rest his head against me again. He shifted, twitching a bit. During the day Milo was constantly moving. It seemed like he was the same even in the dead of night. When he finally did still, I felt him grow heavy against me.
Running my fingers up and down his spine, I looked downwards, seeing the top of his shaggy head unmoving against me. “Are you falling asleep?” I asked quietly, just in case he was.
“Just for a minute,” he muttered.
I laughed. “Milo. We can’t just sleep naked by the pond.”
But he was already snoring.
I would let him sleep that night. Just for a minute, as he requested. Softly, I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the way his body fit against mine. Above us, the lanterns burned brightly, and a warm wind descended upon us, as if the market knew the chill would be too much.
Closing my eyes, I sighed. Just for a minute.
We would rest. Just for a minute.
[[Chapter Six]]“I think really well,” I told her. “I didn’t see the Baron but I got the magic all the same. I’ll take that as a success.”
Hazel frowned. “What do you mean you didn’t meet the Baron? I thought Belladonna had it all set up?”
“She did. I met with his wife.”
“His wife? He has a wife?”
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized. Her eyes went wide, fingers curling reflexively against her broom. “Not that it was terrible for her to meet you. I mean, terrible for her to be having to do his job.”
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. Walking around the market with a sought after commodity such as that did not bode well for me. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most capable of protecting these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t wish it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes for the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
<<if $pits == "false">>Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “I was thinking about asking Gabriel if he would like to go with me,” I said. “But I’m assuming he works.”
“Most likely. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like the company while he goes on patrol. You know,” she grinned. “Those long hours can get tedious. He might need a kind smile and good conversation to help pass the time.” Reaching under the counter, Hazel grabbed out a small basket, covered in cloth. “Why don’t you take these muffins? In case you two get hungry.”
I snorted in laughter. “You already knew what I was going to want to do tonight.”
“Which is why you have the day off,” she grinned. “Now, go. Wash up and head to the Spice District. The lantern festival takes place all throughout the market, but Gabriel will start there and edge outwards. If you hurry, you’ll get to see the lighting of the lamps.”
“Hazel, have I told you recently you are the best?”
“You have. But it’s nice to hear someone other than Milo say that,” she joked. “Now go. The festival starts soon, and I want you to experience the good of the Night Market.” I didn’t wait for her to tell me again. Smiling in thanks, I took the stairs to my room, two by two. <<elseif $pits == "true">>Hazel shuffled her feet, reaching under the counter for a sealed envelope. I recognized the wax insignia of the guard almost immediately. “This came for you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snoop but I held it over the light and then maybe cast a small charm over it.” Stepping forward, I took the letter from her. “He wants you to join him on patrol tonight.”
I sighed, breaking the wax seal and looking at the summons. Sure enough, it was from the Warden and just like Hazel said, he wanted me to join him for festival patrol.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. Leave it to Gabriel Caine to make me work on the first celebration I could attend in the market.
“I’m sorry, $name,” Hazel told me. “I really don’t think he means anything by it.”
I waved the letter between us. “Oh, no, he means something by it. He means to irritate me.”
“Maybe he likes you.”
My eyes snapped towards hers. I knew the look on my face was incredulous. And Hazel even looked uncomfortable saying it.
“The Warden does not like me,” I told her firmly.
“Right,” Hazel nodded, quickly agreeing with me. Then, biting her lip, she bobbed her head from side to side. “But what if he does.”
“Hazel,” I shouted, my voice admonishing and horrified all at once.
“What?” she asked me. “You're attractive. There are long hours that you two spend together in that office. Weirder things have happened.” Ducking down under the counter, she began shuffling around, leaving me to just sit there, stunned. “You know what I think?” she called out. “I think you should bring him muffins.” Popping back up, she slammed the basket on the counter.
“Bring him muffins.”
“Yes,” she smiled. “Muffins. It can be a peace offering.”
“I’m not bringing the man that nearly sold me for parts, muffins.” Hazel had to have lost it. The entire market had to have lost it. What on earth would make anyone believe that this was a viable avenue to head down?
“$name, please,” she said. “For me. At best, it’s a wonderful peace offering and you two can put this business of the flesh pits behind you. At worst? You just did a favor for the Warden of the market and Gabriel Caine is absolutely someone that will take that into future consideration.”
I couldn’t believe her. I also knew Hazel enough to know she was not going to let this go. I half expected her to enchant the muffins to my hand.
Stalking forward, I grabbed the basket. “Fine,” I told her. A smile split her face as she jumped up and down, clapping in thanks. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered, turning to grab my jacket. I was going to go to the festival now just so I wouldn’t have to sit and listen to anymore of this insanity.
“Have fun at the festival,” she called out.
I waved to her without looking over my shoulder, leaving the apothecary. With the basket of muffins.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Five 8]]
“I have no clue,” I said with a small sigh. “I didn’t even meet the Baron. I met his wife.”
“His wife? He has a wife?”
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized. Her eyes went wide, fingers curling reflexively against her broom. “Not that it was terrible for her to meet you. I mean, terrible for her to be having to do his job.”
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. Walking around the market with a sought after commodity such as that did not bode well for me. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most capable of protecting these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t wish it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes for the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
<<if $pits == "false">>Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “I was thinking about asking Gabriel if he would like to go with me,” I said. “But I’m assuming he works.”
“Most likely. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like the company while he goes on patrol. You know,” she grinned. “Those long hours can get tedious. He might need a kind smile and good conversation to help pass the time.” Reaching under the counter, Hazel grabbed out a small basket, covered in cloth. “Why don’t you take these muffins? In case you two get hungry.”
I snorted in laughter. “You already knew what I was going to want to do tonight.”
“Which is why you have the day off,” she grinned. “Now, go. Wash up and head to the Spice District. The lantern festival takes place all throughout the market, but Gabriel will start there and edge outwards. If you hurry, you’ll get to see the lighting of the lamps.”
“Hazel, have I told you recently you are the best?”
“You have. But it’s nice to hear someone other than Milo say that,” she joked. “Now go. The festival starts soon, and I want you to experience the good of the Night Market.” I didn’t wait for her to tell me again. Smiling in thanks, I took the stairs to my room, two by two. <<elseif $pits == "true">>Hazel shuffled her feet, reaching under the counter for a sealed envelope. I recognized the wax insignia of the guard almost immediately. “This came for you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snoop but I held it over the light and then maybe cast a small charm over it.” Stepping forward, I took the letter from her. “He wants you to join him on patrol tonight.”
I sighed, breaking the wax seal and looking at the summons. Sure enough, it was from the Warden and just like Hazel said, he wanted me to join him for festival patrol.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. Leave it to Gabriel Caine to make me work on the first celebration I could attend in the market.
“I’m sorry, $name,” Hazel told me. “I really don’t think he means anything by it.”
I waved the letter between us. “Oh, no, he means something by it. He means to irritate me.”
“Maybe he likes you.”
My eyes snapped towards hers. I knew the look on my face was incredulous. And Hazel even looked uncomfortable saying it.
“The Warden does not like me,” I told her firmly.
“Right,” Hazel nodded, quickly agreeing with me. Then, biting her lip, she bobbed her head from side to side. “But what if he does.”
“Hazel,” I shouted, my voice admonishing and horrified all at once.
“What?” she asked me. “You're attractive. There are long hours that you two spend together in that office. Weirder things have happened.” Ducking down under the counter, she began shuffling around, leaving me to just sit there, stunned. “You know what I think?” she called out. “I think you should bring him muffins.” Popping back up, she slammed the basket on the counter.
“Bring him muffins.”
“Yes,” she smiled. “Muffins. It can be a peace offering.”
“I’m not bringing the man that nearly sold me for parts, muffins.” Hazel had to have lost it. The entire market had to have lost it. What on earth would make anyone believe that this was a viable avenue to head down?
“$name, please,” she said. “For me. At best, it’s a wonderful peace offering and you two can put this business of the flesh pits behind you. At worst? You just did a favor for the Warden of the market and Gabriel Caine is absolutely someone that will take that into future consideration.”
I couldn’t believe her. I also knew Hazel enough to know she was not going to let this go. I half expected her to enchant the muffins to my hand.
Stalking forward, I grabbed the basket. “Fine,” I told her. A smile split her face as she jumped up and down, clapping in thanks. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered, turning to grab my jacket. I was going to go to the festival now just so I wouldn’t have to sit and listen to anymore of this insanity.
“Have fun at the festival,” she called out.
I waved to her without looking over my shoulder, leaving the apothecary. With the basket of muffins.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Five 8]]
"I learned today that the Baron of the books is a snake."
"Fun," Hazel chirped.
"And that he's married."
Somehow, this shocked Hazel far more. "He has a wife?”
I nodded. “Apparently the Baron tricked her into coming and dealing with me because he didn’t want to.”
“Oh, how terrible for her,” Hazel sympathized. Her eyes went wide, fingers curling reflexively against her broom. “Not that it was terrible for her to meet you. I mean, terrible for her to be having to do his job.”
“I don’t think she cared. It seems like she was more caught off guard than anything else.” I dug the small chrysanthemum out of my pocket. “She gave me this though. Said it was part of his power.”
“She had his power?” Hazel took the small bit of opal flower from me. It glowed faintly in her hand. “That is quite the trust for a Baron to give power like that.”
I didn’t particularly want to be seen with it either. Walking around the market with a sought after commodity such as that did not bode well for me. “Can you put it some place safe?” I asked. It was probably best if it was kept out of sight and mind.
“Yes. The others and I have already talked, and we have agreed that I’m most capable of protecting these until we get you a vessel in which we can put it all in. A ring or something.”
She wrapped the chrysanthemum up in black cloth several times, chanting something under her breath. I didn’t question it. Hazel was probably the one I trusted most with this kind of thing.
“A ring,” I repeated. “Like one of their signets?”
“Potentially,” she said. “Though it doesn’t have to be as ostentatious if you don’t wish it to be.”
I didn’t really care one way or another. As long as I didn’t have to be worried about someone stealing it from me every time I left the shop. Leaning against the counter, I looked around. Hazel had already taken care of everything for the evening. Usually, it took us much longer to end the day, but I didn’t know if that was for my benefit, so I could learn the ropes for the shop, or if Hazel knew about the festival as well.
“The Baron’s wife, Chrysanthemum, was saying something about a lantern festival tonight.”
<<if $pits == "false">>Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I nearly forgot about it. It is tonight. Are you going?”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. Already my shoes were scuffed with the dirt from the market streets. That and the mud from the garden outside. “I was thinking about asking Gabriel if he would like to go with me,” I said. “But I’m assuming he works.”
“Most likely. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like the company while he goes on patrol. You know,” she grinned. “Those long hours can get tedious. He might need a kind smile and good conversation to help pass the time.” Reaching under the counter, Hazel grabbed out a small basket, covered in cloth. “Why don’t you take these muffins? In case you two get hungry.”
I snorted in laughter. “You already knew what I was going to want to do tonight.”
“Which is why you have the day off,” she grinned. “Now, go. Wash up and head to the Spice District. The lantern festival takes place all throughout the market, but Gabriel will start there and edge outwards. If you hurry, you’ll get to see the lighting of the lamps.”
“Hazel, have I told you recently you are the best?”
“You have. But it’s nice to hear someone other than Milo say that,” she joked. “Now go. The festival starts soon, and I want you to experience the good of the Night Market.” I didn’t wait for her to tell me again. Smiling in thanks, I took the stairs to my room, two by two. <<elseif $pits == "true">>Hazel shuffled her feet, reaching under the counter for a sealed envelope. I recognized the wax insignia of the guard almost immediately. “This came for you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snoop but I held it over the light and then maybe cast a small charm over it.” Stepping forward, I took the letter from her. “He wants you to join him on patrol tonight.”
I sighed, breaking the wax seal and looking at the summons. Sure enough, it was from the Warden and just like Hazel said, he wanted me to join him for festival patrol.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered. Leave it to Gabriel Caine to make me work on the first celebration I could attend in the market.
“I’m sorry, $name,” Hazel told me. “I really don’t think he means anything by it.”
I waved the letter between us. “Oh, no, he means something by it. He means to irritate me.”
“Maybe he likes you.”
My eyes snapped towards hers. I knew the look on my face was incredulous. And Hazel even looked uncomfortable saying it.
“The Warden does not like me,” I told her firmly.
“Right,” Hazel nodded, quickly agreeing with me. Then, biting her lip, she bobbed her head from side to side. “But what if he does.”
“Hazel,” I shouted, my voice admonishing and horrified all at once.
“What?” she asked me. “You're attractive. There are long hours that you two spend together in that office. Weirder things have happened.” Ducking down under the counter, she began shuffling around, leaving me to just sit there, stunned. “You know what I think?” she called out. “I think you should bring him muffins.” Popping back up, she slammed the basket on the counter.
“Bring him muffins.”
“Yes,” she smiled. “Muffins. It can be a peace offering.”
“I’m not bringing the man that nearly sold me for parts, muffins.” Hazel had to have lost it. The entire market had to have lost it. What on earth would make anyone believe that this was a viable avenue to head down?
“$name, please,” she said. “For me. At best, it’s a wonderful peace offering and you two can put this business of the flesh pits behind you. At worst? You just did a favor for the Warden of the market and Gabriel Caine is absolutely someone that will take that into future consideration.”
I couldn’t believe her. I also knew Hazel enough to know she was not going to let this go. I half expected her to enchant the muffins to my hand.
Stalking forward, I grabbed the basket. “Fine,” I told her. A smile split her face as she jumped up and down, clapping in thanks. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered, turning to grab my jacket. I was going to go to the festival now just so I wouldn’t have to sit and listen to anymore of this insanity.
“Have fun at the festival,” she called out.
I waved to her without looking over my shoulder, leaving the apothecary. With the basket of muffins.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Five 8]]
The lamps were dimming. It was apparent when I passed the three-tiered-fountain once more, heading down the familiar path towards the Spice District. The amber glow of the paper orbs up above had diminished into a soft orange glow. I thought that that meant night was upon us. Some construct of evening. But apparently, that meant that the lamps needed to be revived. Magic. The one thing that was not supposed to happen within the districts and yet the very thing that was apparently going to keep the paths lit for the upcoming year.
The Spice District was heady with the scent of paprika and cardamon. Steam billowed out from under the tented awnings and more people than normal were milling the streets, in their absolute finest. They carried sacks of warm smelling pine nuts and roasted almonds, munching on them happily as they mingled through the shops. Even the vendor stalls looked a little more decorated today.
I spotted Gabriel almost immediately. When set against a sea of mismatched clothes, skirts, and patterned bodices, the dark blue of his cloak, stood out. His face was grim as he stared over the throngs of people that passed by, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you use the threat of your sword,” I said, coming up to his side.
He did not blink. Barely even reacted to me being there. “Tonight is a special night.”
I observed the crowd. None of them looked threatening, but Gabriel felt stiff by my side. More so than usual, if that were possible.
<<if $pits == "false">>“Are you working tonight?” I asked. It was clear that he was but for some reason I still felt the need to ask.
“The entirety of the Velvet Guard is on duty this evening.”<<elseif $pits == "true">>”You summoned me,” I drawled, looking at him in clear irritation.
“Yes, I thought it would be good for you to follow me on patrol this evening and see more of the guard's duties. Help you understand us a bit more since it is clear you have a bias against our dealings.”
“Couldn’t imagine why I would,” I snarked.<</if>>
Crimson cloaks dotted the crowd. Dark red velvet wove in and out of the shopper's and festival goers, a much more prominent force than they were usually within the market. “Don’t they get to enjoy the festival?” I asked, nodding towards several guards herding a drunken crowd out of the district.
“There is enjoyment in our work,” he said. His silver eyes flashed, and I watched him rock forward slightly. Whatever he had seen looked as if it were a false alarm, however because before long, he was settled back into the stiff stance that I had often found him in.
[[Match his energy|Chap 5 Match his energy]]
[[Demand for him to take a break and eat some food]]
<<if $pits == "false">>[[Coax him to eat a muffin]]<</if>>While I was the first to admit that I did not know Gabriel well, I did know his penchant for not eating. Whether it was due to someone interrupting him, or poor management skills, was not really the question. With the way Hazel had the basket prepared, I suspected that Gabriel’s eating habits were widely known with the people who he associated with. It was doubtful he had eaten anything tonight and while muffins and whatever else Hazel had packed within the basket was not exactly a meal, it was a start.
“You need to eat,” I told him. “Not later. Not when the festival is done. But now.” I pushed aside the linen cloth at the top of the basket. Sure enough, there were dozens of muffins, along with a few bundles of dried meats and a bowl of lemon dipped cucumbers. <<if $pits == "true">>It felt odd, demanding that this man ate. I had to remind myself that I was not heartless, however. And since the pits, Gabriel had not shown unkindness towards me. Oddly, he was willing to help.<</if>>
“I am on patrol, $name.”
“And you can keep your eyes open while eating so you can continue to patrol,” I told him. I handed him a bit of the dried meat. Protein was probably something he appreciated more than anything sweet. “Besides, how are you supposed to catch all the bad guys if you don’t keep your strength up?”
He tilted a wry gaze at me. “The bad guys?”
“I assume that’s what you do,” I told him. “Look for the people intending to cause harm and put them in their place.” <<if $pits == "true">>A sardonic grin crept across my features. “Throw them in the pits simply because they don’t remember their name.” My tone was far more teasing than I had intended it to be.<</if>>
I could see the laughter curl at the corners of his lips. He didn’t answer me. But he did take the proffered food from my hands.
“The lantern festival is only once a year,” he began, after pointedly taking a bite. “You should experience it.” The fact that I was not taking part of the festivities was a clear source of discontent with him. <<if $pits == "true">> “I am pleased that you did not ignore my summons.”<</if>>
<<if $pits == "false">>[[(flirt) I want to experience it with you]]
[[I’m good right here, thanks]]
[[Eat some food]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>[[Eat some food]]
[[I love how you act like I have a choice]]<</if>>While I was the first to admit that I did not know Gabriel well, I did know his penchant for not eating. Whether it was due to someone interrupting him, or poor management skills, was not really the question. With the way Hazel had the basket prepared, I suspected that Gabriel’s eating habits were widely known with the people who he associated with. It was doubtful he had eaten anything tonight and while muffins and whatever else Hazel had packed within the basket was not exactly a meal, it was a start.
“I would like for you to eat,” I said delicately. “I pushed aside the linen cloth at the top of the basket. Sure enough, there were dozens of muffins, along with a few bundles of dried meats and a bowl of lemon dipped cucumbers. “Hazel packed all this yummy food for us and I thought that you might need some. Tonight looks rather busy, and I’m almost certain you forgot to get anything before coming to work.”
“I am on patrol, $name.”
“Please,” I said. “Just a little bit? I worry about you sometimes when things get tense. You don’t take care of yourself.”
“I take care of myself just fine,” he protested. Though he did reach in to the basket for a bit of the dried meat. I tried not to let myself smile in triumph.
“The lantern festival is only once a year,” he began, after pointedly taking a bite. “You should experience it.” The fact that I was not taking part of the festivities was a clear source of discontent with him.
[[(flirt) I want to experience it with you]]
[[I’m good right here, thanks]]
[[Eat some food]]<<if $pits == "false">>I looked down at my basket. It was full of more than just muffins, I knew. But getting Gabriel to eat when he was that tense did not seem likely. Instead, I mirrored his stance, looking out over the crowd such as he. It took him a minute, but when he noticed I was still by his side, a small frown of confusion reached his lips as he inclined his head towards my own.
“My apologies. Is there something I could help you with?”
“No,” I told him.
He nodded. Satisfied that he had asked. But as the silence stretched on, and I still did not move, he looked at me again, hesitation in his gaze. As if he had missed something.
“Do you know of something that needs watched?” he asked.
I shook my head again. “No. Everything looks lovely here.” I had never seen so many smiling faces.
“It is a beautiful sight,” he agreed. Eyes forward again, I tried to hide my smile. I was almost certain he was racking his brain to try and figure out what it was I was doing. Everything to Gabriel had a purpose. It was a well-thought-out plan. Standing here, saying very little, was clearly driving him insane.
Finally, he turned his body towards me. “Are you alright?” It was a more direct question than I had heard from him while on duty.
“Oh,” I said with a smile. “Yes. Are you?”
“Yes?” His gaze ticked down to the basket I clutched in my hand. “Did you go shopping?”
“No. I brought you muffins,” I said with a small smile. “But you look busy, so I can wait.”
He nodded again, agreeing with me, but his eyes were still locked on the wicker basket. I only had to wait, and I was certain the confusion would continue. “Surely you do not wish to wait by my side the entire evening.”
“That is exactly what I want to do.”
“The lantern festival is only once a year. You should experience it.” The fact that I was not taking part in the festivities was a clear source of discontent with him.
[[(flirt) I want to experience it with you]]
[[I’m good right here, thanks]]
[[Eat some food]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>I looked down at my basket. It was full of more than just muffins. Hazel had for sure packed it to the brim, most likely with favorites she had observed from both of us. I sighed as I looked at the contents, my own stomach growling. I would have to offer him a muffin at the very least. Just to appease Hazel. But for now, I matched his energy, looking out at the crowd with a stern glare.
“Are you mocking me?” he asked.
“A bit,” I felt the corners of my lips twitch. “Though, I will admit, now that I’m looking, everyone here looks lovely.” I had never seen so many smiling faces.
“It is a beautiful sight,” he agreed. I wondered if he had thought about what it would mean to make me come follow him on patrol. If he realized I would probably be a distraction more than anything else. I swore if he tried to arrest anyone and drag them to the pits, I was going to fight him, most likely adding more onto my sentence.
“You have a basket,” he observed. I noticed he was eyeing it suspiciously. “Did you go shopping?”
“No. I brought you muffins,” I said. “Or rather, Hazel made me bring you muffins.”
“That was kind of Ms. Albright. She does understand how tedious these patrols can get.” He glanced at me. “The lantern festival is only once a year,” he began, after pointedly taking a bite. “You should experience it.” The fact that I was not taking part of the festivities was a clear source of discontent with him. “I am pleased that you did not ignore my summons.”
[[Eat some food]]
[[I love how you act like I have a choice]]<</if>>“And I want to experience it with you,” I said boldly.
He blinked at me but said nothing of my proclamation. Though he did not send me away. A sign that let me breathe a silent sigh of relief.
“Warden!” A woman came running up, one long braid hitting the mid of her back. “There is a bit of a problem over at the games.”
The small bit I had managed to chip away slotted right back into place as his spine straightened and he regarded the woman professionally. “Meaning?”
“They’re playing lifeblood.”
I could hear the way his teeth ground together at the woman's words. He gave her a curt nod, clearly letting her know she had been right to find him, before turning to me. <<if $pits == "false">>“Would you like to join me this evening?”
I was surprised by the lack of argument from him. For some reason I thought he would tell me to go home. Or insist that I continued to enjoy the festival I knew next to nothing about. Instead, however, the invitation could not have been more clear.
“Yes,” I said immediately. <<elseif $pits == "true">> “Follow me. Consider yourself officially on duty.”<</if>>
He waited no further as he stalked off out of the Spice District and down towards a small alcove that echoed with the tumble of dice and the slice of cards. The small gambling plaza was a sprawling section of concrete, with bright lit booths filled with games and prizes. Some of it looked normal. A ball rolled at pins. Some sort of soft cloth was thrown in a hole. Other things looked a bit more convoluted, though. A small spark went off in a pot to my right which caused several people to cheer and exchange coin while the pots that went untouched were suddenly shattered by the booted feet of market goers.
Gabriel, stopped halfway into the square, next to a group of what looked like younger individuals, holding cards close to their chest. They looked at Gabriel with wide eyes, clearly caught in the act of something they were not supposed to be doing.
“Whose bet?” he asked.
None of them answered. They all blinked at him, no one willing to speak first.
“Now,” he intoned, his voice dark.
[[Let Gabriel take care of it]]
[[Intervene]]“I’m good with you right here, thanks,” I said, giving him a small grin. He only looked confused at my words, not quite understanding why anyone would be.
“I am on duty, though,” he repeated slowly.
Leaning forward, I matched his tone. “I know.”
He blinked at me but I could see the appreciation for my words. He nodded a little, reaching for his second helping of what was contained within the basket.
“Warden!” A woman came running up, one long braid hitting the mid of her back. “There is a bit of a problem over at the games.”
The small bit I had managed to chip away slotted right back into place as his spine straightened and he regarded the woman professionally. “Meaning?”
“They’re playing lifeblood.”
I could hear the way his teeth ground together at the woman's words. He gave her a curt nod, clearly letting her know she had been right to find him, before turning to me. <<if $pits == "false">>“Would you like to join me this evening?”
I was surprised by the lack of argument from him. For some reason I thought he would tell me to go home. Or insist that I continued to enjoy the festival I knew next to nothing about. Instead, however, the invitation could not have been more clear.
“Yes,” I said immediately. <<elseif $pits == "true">> “Follow me. Consider yourself officially on duty.”<</if>>
He waited no further as he stalked off out of the Spice District and down towards a small alcove that echoed with the tumble of dice and the slice of cards. The small gambling plaza was a sprawling section of concrete, with bright lit booths filled with games and prizes. Some of it looked normal. A ball rolled at pins. Some sort of soft cloth was thrown in a hole. Other things looked a bit more convoluted, though. A small spark went off in a pot to my right which caused several people to cheer and exchange coin while the pots that went untouched were suddenly shattered by the booted feet of market goers.
Gabriel, stopped halfway into the square, next to a group of what looked like younger individuals, holding cards close to their chest. They looked at Gabriel with wide eyes, clearly caught in the act of something they were not supposed to be doing.
“Whose bet?” he asked.
None of them answered. They all blinked at him, no one willing to speak first.
“Now,” he intoned, his voice dark.
[[Let Gabriel take care of it]]
[[Intervene]]<<if $pits == "false">>“If you do not want me to tail you all night, eat some food. We can then discuss me leaving,” I told him. Then, as an after thought. “Please?”<<elseif $pits == "true">>”Eat,” I told him. “Hazel went through the trouble. Don’t disappoint her.”<</if>>
He blinked at me but I could see the appreciation for my words. He nodded a little, reaching for his second helping of what was contained within the basket.
“Warden!” A woman came running up, one long braid hitting the mid of her back. “There is a bit of a problem over at the games.”
The small bit I had managed to chip away slotted right back into place as his spine straightened and he regarded the woman professionally. “Meaning?”
“They’re playing lifeblood.”
I could hear the way his teeth ground together at the woman's words. He gave her a curt nod, clearly letting her know she had been right to find him, before turning to me. <<if $pits == "false">>“Would you like to join me this evening?”
I was surprised by the lack of argument from him. For some reason I thought he would tell me to go home. Or insist that I continued to enjoy the festival I knew next to nothing about. Instead, however, the invitation could not have been more clear.
“Yes,” I said immediately. <<elseif $pits == "true">> “Follow me. Consider yourself officially on duty.”<</if>>
He waited no further as he stalked off out of the Spice District and down towards a small alcove that echoed with the tumble of dice and the slice of cards. The small gambling plaza was a sprawling section of concrete, with bright lit booths filled with games and prizes. Some of it looked normal. A ball rolled at pins. Some sort of soft cloth was thrown in a hole. Other things looked a bit more convoluted, though. A small spark went off in a pot to my right which caused several people to cheer and exchange coin while the pots that went untouched were suddenly shattered by the booted feet of market goers.
Gabriel, stopped halfway into the square, next to a group of what looked like younger individuals, holding cards close to their chest. They looked at Gabriel with wide eyes, clearly caught in the act of something they were not supposed to be doing.
“Whose bet?” he asked.
None of them answered. They all blinked at him, no one willing to speak first.
“Now,” he intoned, his voice dark.
[[Let Gabriel take care of it]]
[[Intervene]]My smile was bitter and thin. “I love how you act as if I have a choice. As if these bands on my wrists wouldn’t just pull me all the way to you if I didn’t show up today.”
“But I didn’t have to do that. I appreciate someone who can follow orders.” If Gabriel understood the irritation in my voice, he said nothing. I was coming to realize that this man was someone who did not often get subtlety.
“Warden!” A woman came running up, one long braid hitting the mid of her back. “There is a bit of a problem over at the games.”
The small bit I had managed to chip away slotted right back into place as his spine straightened and he regarded the woman professionally. “Meaning?”
“They’re playing lifeblood.”
I could hear the way his teeth ground together at the woman's words. He gave her a curt nod, clearly letting her know she had been right to find him, before turning to me. <<if $pits == "false">>“Would you like to join me this evening?”
I was surprised by the lack of argument from him. For some reason I thought he would tell me to go home. Or insist that I continued to enjoy the festival I knew next to nothing about. Instead, however, the invitation could not have been more clear.
“Yes,” I said immediately. <<elseif $pits == "true">> “Follow me. Consider yourself officially on duty.”<</if>>
He waited no further as he stalked off out of the Spice District and down towards a small alcove that echoed with the tumble of dice and the slice of cards. The small gambling plaza was a sprawling section of concrete, with bright lit booths filled with games and prizes. Some of it looked normal. A ball rolled at pins. Some sort of soft cloth was thrown in a hole. Other things looked a bit more convoluted, though. A small spark went off in a pot to my right which caused several people to cheer and exchange coin while the pots that went untouched were suddenly shattered by the booted feet of market goers.
Gabriel, stopped halfway into the square, next to a group of what looked like younger individuals, holding cards close to their chest. They looked at Gabriel with wide eyes, clearly caught in the act of something they were not supposed to be doing.
“Whose bet?” he asked.
None of them answered. They all blinked at him, no one willing to speak first.
“Now,” he intoned, his voice dark.
[[Let Gabriel take care of it]]
[[Intervene]]All three of them looked ready to bolt. They were young, barely above the stage of a child. It was clear they had drank something they should not have and were desperately trying to keep their cool in front of the Warden. Though, as I looked down, I could see the white bone of one of the girls' long fingers.
“There are not a lot of options you three have,” Gabriel was saying. “You can either tell me what’s going on or I’ll get one of my men to escort you all down to the station where we’ll contact your parents.”
“No!” It was the red-headed girl with the tawny skin and skeletal hand. She had the most to lose.
“Then tell me what is going on.”
All three of them exchanged looks but kept their mouths shut in solidarity. Gabriel looked fed up with them already, despite the night being young. Tucking his coat aside, he made sure they saw the glint of his sword.
“I know you’re playing lifeblood,” he told them. Bits of metal sat in a pile on a crate between them. They were oblong and only vaguely resembled a coin. There was a ringing from somewhere down in the market and another cry of triumph as something exploded. “Where did you even learn it?” he asked.
The blonde, the one who I noticed still had her flesh fully intact, shrugged. “I learned it down at the bog. A guy there gave me his deck.”
There was a flash of irritation, but Gabriel overall didn’t look surprised.
“Do any of you wish to be arrested tonight?” he asked, his voice steely as he looked at them in turn. All three quickly shook their heads “Then give me the cards and tell me who provided them.”
Immeidaltey, they all but tossed the cards at him, thankful for the way out of whatever he could have done. “A goblin by the name of Taliesin,” the red-head said.
Taking the cards, Gabriel looked at them all, his eyes flashing silver. “Go.” His voice echoed through the plaza, catching the look of several people and causing a shiver of trepidation to slither down my spine.
The kids scattered without a second glance.
I looked at the cards in Gabriel’s hands as he stuffed them in his pockets. “What’s lifeblood?”
“Exactly how it sounds,” he said. “They bet chips that equal to moments off their life. The one girl looked as if she had bet far too much.”
My eyes widened at that. “Why would anyone play a game like that?”
“Why indeed.” He shook his head, kicking at the bits of metal on the ground, sending them scattering throughout the market square. “Even more concerning is Taliesin. If the girl tells the truth, then a Baron gave a child the ability to gamble with her life.”
I felt my stomach roll with the thought. The game itself sounded barbaric, but to know a Baron was involved made me nauseous. I assumed I would be meeting him soon enough.
[[Next|Chapter Five 10]]“Warden,” I said softly, “If I may?” He wasn’t going to get anywhere with these kids. Not with the tone he was using. But I doubted the Warden had a gentle tone when it came to work. Gabriel had always seemed to approached things with a quick efficiency.
Looking at me oddly, he stepped slightly aside. I knew I probably only had one shot at this.
I knelt down in front of the children. The fat of youth had only just shed from their cheeks but they were not quite adults either. All three of them stared at me with wide eyes that said they knew they were in trouble. I noticed the fingers on one of the girl's hands. The skin had been cut through to the white of the bone. The remaining bits a translucent stretch across her index finger.
“Are you all doing this by choice?” I asked.
They exchanged looks with each other. Two girls and a boy. They didn’t look like they were trying to make any sort of trouble. In fact, they looked like they had maybe drank a few things they shouldn’t have and were trying their best to act normal.
“Answer ?them,” Gabriel said.
I turned, looking up at him and giving a quick shake of my head. He seemed to take the hint and walked a few steps away, giving us breathing room instead of looming over them all.
“Okay,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Can you tell me what’s going on? I’m new to the Night Market, and I’m trying to understand.”
The redheaded girl with the tawny skin and bone fingers, answered first. “You’re new, and you're wandering around with the Warden?”
[[Figured the safest place would be with him]]
[[We’re friends]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[Unfortunately, I work for him]]<</if>>“Where’s the safest place in the Night Market if not with the man who protects it?” I asked.
The three of them snorted in laughter. The girl, the one still with her skin intact, rolled her eyes at me. “Doesn’t do a great job at that now does he?” <<if $pits == "true">> It wasn’t that I disagreed with her. I just didn’t think telling her such would make this situation any easier.<</if>>
“Shut up,” the boy hissed. “You know he can still hear you, right?”
“Does it matter? We’re going to the pits anyway.”
Sitting down next to them, I looked at the bits of metal that sat in a pile on a crate between all of them. There was a ringing from somewhere down in the market and another cry of triumph as something exploded. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Gabriel move off. I wondered if he saw something of keener interest or if he was truly trying to give me an opportunity to solve this problem on my own.
[[You’re right. You are going to the pits unless you talk to me]]
[[I assure you. I will not let you get taken to the pits]]I nodded. “We’re friends.” <<if $pits == "true">>It was a lie but the three of them didn’t need to know that. Given that aside from Hazel, Gabriel was the one person in the market I spent the most time with, there were probably people who did consider us friends.<</if>>
All three of them snorted in laughter, but it was the girl who spoke again. “The Warden does not have friends.”
I raised a brow at her. “You know him well?” I didn’t know where this ability to bluff came from. It wasn’t as if I knew the Warden well either.
“Well, no. But everyone knows it.”
“Shut up,” the boy hissed. “I’m sure he can hear you.”
“Does it matter? We’re all going to go to the pits anyway.”
Sitting down next to them, I looked at the bits of metal that sat in a pile on a crate between all of them. There was a ringing from somewhere down in the market and another cry of triumph as something exploded. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Gabriel move off. I wondered if he saw something of more interest, or if he was truly trying to give me an opportunity to solve this problem on my own.
[[You’re right. You are going to the pits unless you talk to me]]
[[I assure you. I will not let you get taken to the pits]]
“Unfortunately, I work for him,” I told the three of them. I saw the boy glance down at my wrists while the other two noticed my distinct lack of anything crimson.
“As a guard?” the boy asked.
“No,” I laughed mirthlessly. “I’m not sure what my duties are. But, you wanted to know why I was here? Because I have to be. But that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in what you three are doing. Or that I don’t want to help in some way.”
“Right,” the girl with her skin still intact, rolled her eyes at me. “I’m sure you’re not undercover. What? The guard realize no one trusts them and they’re setting up new tactics to bust us?”
“Shut up,” the boy hissed. “You know he can still hear you, right?”
“Does it matter? We’re going to the pits anyway.”
Sitting down next to them, I looked at the bits of metal that sat in a pile on a crate between all of them. There was a ringing from somewhere down in the market and another cry of triumph as something exploded. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Gabriel move off. I wondered if he saw something of keener interest or if he was truly trying to give me an opportunity to solve this problem on my own.
[[You’re right. You are going to the pits unless you talk to me]]
[[I assure you. I will not let you get taken to the pits]]“You’re right,” I began. “Unless you tell me what’s going on, I’m going to call the Warden over here and that’s exactly where you will be going. So, I’d start talking.”
Was it the right thing to say to them? Probably not. Was I lying? Absolutely. But I didn’t really know what else to do and it was clear that whatever they had gotten themselves involved in was an exercise in delinquency.
“What is going on?” I asked, keeping my voice firm. They all three exchanged looks before the girl with the bone hand let out a sigh.
“Lifeblood.” The girl said.
“What is lifeblood?”
“It’s a game,” she started, her fingers fretting with the yellow of her skirt. “It’s – I learned it in the bog. It’s a high stakes card came where you bet your life and vitality. Winner gets a bit of life. Loser has it taken away.”
I looked down at her hand. Quickly, she hid it beneath her knee. “It’s illegal, isn’t it.” I asked.
Their lack of answer said enough.
I didn’t know what individual’s their age was doing down at a place that taught such games, or why a game like that even existed. But I wasn’t about to let them continue. “Tell you what,” I started, thinking as quickly as possible. “Hand me over the cards, agree to never do this again, and go.”
“I paid good money for these cards,” the blonde haired girl protested.
The boy nudged her hard. “You’re three up in lives. You’re fine.”
I held out my hand and slowly, they relinquished the cards. As the group stood, I stood with them, looking at the girl who had clearly been losing. “It’s not worth it,” I told her. “I know that you think it might be, but it’s not worth it.”
She refused to meet my gaze as they walked away. But I did hear the boy one last time before they all disappeared around the corner.
“Told you,” he whispered, grasping her decaying hand in his.
[[Next|Chapter Five 9]]
<<if $pits == "false">>“I will not be taking you to the pits,” I told them. I doubted Gabriel would either. Then again, I had seen those docks. I shuddered to think of children so young trapped within them. “I promise you. I just want to help. What exactly is going on here?” <<elseif $pits == "true">> "If it comes down to that, I will stand in his way. None of you are going to the pits." The thought of children being dragged there made my gut twist in horror. No one should have to live in a world where their protectors sold them off for pieces due to a mistake.<</if>>
“Lifeblood.” The girl said.
“What is lifeblood?”
“It’s a game,” she started, her fingers fretting with the yellow of her skirt. “It’s – I learned it in the bog. It’s a high stakes card came where you bet your life and vitality. Winner gets a bit of life. Loser has it taken away.”
I looked down at her hand. Quickly, she hid it beneath her knee. “It’s illegal, isn’t it.” I asked.
Their lack of answer said enough.
I didn’t know what individual’s their age was doing down at a place that taught such games, or why a game like that even existed. But I wasn’t about to let them continue. “Tell you what,” I started, thinking as quickly as possible. “Hand me over the cards, agree to never do this again, and go.”
“I paid good money for these cards,” the blonde haired girl protested.
The boy nudged her hard. “You’re three up in lives. You’re fine.”
I held out my hand and slowly, they relinquished the cards. As the group stood, I stood with them, looking at the girl who had clearly been losing. “It’s not worth it,” I told her. “I know that you think it might be, but it’s not worth it.”
She refused to meet my gaze as they walked away. But I did hear the boy one last time before they all disappeared around the corner.
“Told you,” he whispered, grasping her decaying hand in his.
[[Next|Chapter Five 9]]
Turning, I found Gabriel not far from where I stood. He had made sure to stay out of sight, but I had a feeling the teens had seen him and their quick steps away was due to the look on his face. When they finally left the district, he stepped to my side.
I handed the cards to him, and he bent down, kicking the little bits of metal they had been betting with. They dissipated into the surrounding grates, falling below the earth somewhere.
“Well done,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“I would have approached it differently.”
“Which,” I pointed out. “Was going to scare a bunch of kids that didn’t need to be scared.”
“They should be scared. Given what they were playing.”
I frowned a little at that. Lifeblood. It sounded barbaric even for someone old enough to know what they were doing. Something which those three clearly had not. “Why would anyone play a game that steals away your life?”
Gabriel shrugged. “It’s popular in some of the more distasteful districts. The thrill and danger I suppose. You are not allowed to play it until you are at least over forty moons. Not legally at least.”
“Well,” I said, “they’ll hopefully learn their lesson.”
“It is doubtful.”
I regarded him carefully at that. His eyes were still scanning the surroundings, making sure that this was the only game that was taking place of this nature. “You are a bit of a pessimistic man, aren’t you.”
He laughed a bit at that, cracking a small smile. “A bit.” Tucking the cards within the depths of his cloak, he observed me.<<if $pits == "false">> “Are you intent on continuing to follow me tonight?”
“Do you mind?” Thus far, the evening certainly had not turned out like I had thought, but I was still eager to join him. To get to know him a bit more.
“Not at all. But if I ask you to step aside for your safety, please do so.”
I couldn’t imagine anything being unsafe on such a perfect looking night. Then again, we were in the Night Market.
“Of course.” <<elseif $pits == "true">> “I’d say you certainly earned some of your bail tonight,” he told me. My heart sank. For a moment, I had forgotten the terrible nature that had brought me to this moment.
“Aim to please,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Gabriel cleared his throat, as if realizing that maybe he had misspoke. <</if>>
“Well then, while you were talking to them, I patrolled the area. Shall we continue to the next portion of the festival?”
[[Can you tell me a bit more about this festival?|G Can you tell me]]
[[I saw the Baron of the Books today|G I saw the Baron of the Books]]
[[How long are you on duty for tonight?|G How long are you on duty]]“Why would anyone play a game that steals away your life?” I asked him as we stood within the loud square. Laughter rang out in tandem with the bells, barkers calling out for more to join in the festivities.
Gabriel shrugged. “It’s popular in some of the more distasteful districts. The thrill and danger I suppose. You are not allowed to play it until you are at least over forty moons. Not legally at least.”
“Well,” I said, “they’ll hopefully learn their lesson.”
“It is doubtful.”
I regarded him carefully at that. His eyes were still scanning the surroundings, making sure that this was the only game that was taking place of this nature. “You are a bit of a pessimistic man, aren’t you.”
He laughed a bit at that, cracking a small smile. “A bit.” Tucking the cards within the depths of his cloak, he observed me.<<if $pits == "false">> “Are you intent on continuing to follow me tonight?”
“Do you mind?” Thus far, the evening certainly had not turned out like I had thought, but I was still eager to join him. To get to know him a bit more.
“Not at all. But if I ask you to step aside for your safety, please do so.”
I couldn’t imagine anything being unsafe on such a perfect looking night. Then again, we were in the Night Market.
“Of course.” <<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">> “I’d say you certainly earned some of your bail tonight,” he told me. My heart sank. For a moment, I had forgotten the terrible nature that had brought me to this moment.
“Aim to please,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Gabriel cleared his throat, as if realizing that maybe he had misspoke. <</if>>
“Well then, shall we continue to the next portion of the festival?”
[[Can you tell me a bit more about this festival?|G Can you tell me]]
[[I saw the Baron of the Books today|G I saw the Baron of the Books]]
[[How long are you on duty for tonight?|G How long are you on duty]]“Can you tell me more about the festival?” I asked. “I heard a bit about it from the Baron’s wife but still am unclear.”
“Ah, the Baron of the Books. That was today.” People parted as we walked through the districts, weaving in and out of alleyways. I was glad I was sticking by his side. I doubted I’d know how to get back to the three-tiered fountain from here.
“The festival is once a year,” he said. “The lanterns, for whatever reason, are only lit with enough magic to keep them going for a full rotation of our realm. So, this night, every year, they burn out before being relit once more.”
“Who relights them?”
“Some say the Night Market itself. Others think the Barons do it in secret. There used to be a Lady of the Lamps but she retired years ago without repercussion. But, the market likes to put on a festival during this time. A celebration that shows our appreciation for the lantern light.”
“That’s kind of a fun way to look at it all.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “Though I do not enjoy the moments when the lanterns are doused. There is always the thought that they will not come back on and the descent into chaos that would ensue is far too large for even the Velvet Guard to control.”
I looked at the dimming lanterns above. Briefly, I felt terrified that this was it.
“Did you get what you needed to with the Baron today?” he asked, pulling me back to the present.
“Yes. Hazel has it.”
He nodded, thankfully knowing what I was referring to. “Ms. Albright will be adept in keeping everything safe.
“You know,” I started. “For a place that is supposed to be free of magic, I have seen a lot of magic today.”
He grimaced at the observation. “Yes. You probably have.”
[[Next|Chapter Five 11]]“I saw the Baron of the Books today,” I told him. “Well, his wife, actually. The Baron didn’t want to show. Though, I’m starting to kind of wonder if she is the actual Baron with how easily she was able to give me what we needed.”
“An observation I’m sure that has been made before. Though I would not advertise it.” People parted as we walked through the districts, weaving in and out of alleyways. I was glad I was sticking by his side. I doubted I’d know how to get back to the three-tiered fountain from here. “Did you get what was needed?”
“I did. Hazel has it, however. I was told that all of you discussed that to be the safest option.”
“For now,” he agreed. Above us, the lights flickered a bit more, the world around us suddenly a shade darker. “I would like to hear more of your meeting but I feel it is best to keep it at a minimum.”
A few people nearly bumped into us, apologizing profusely when they saw who was at my side. Gabriel only nodded to them, politely guiding them out of our way.
“A lot of people come out for this festival, huh?”
“It is a celebration of sorts. A way for the people of the Night Market to show their thanks and renew the magic each year.”
“Does it work?”
“I suppose in a way it does. I ere more on the practical side and highly doubt that drunken evenings is what lights the market once more. But it does continue to work year after year, so there is no reason for anyone to think differently.”
“What do you think though?” I asked.
He was quiet for a moment, either taking stock of the state of the festivities, or thinking over my words. When we rounded a corner, he ducked his head closer to me, the two of us side by side as the alleyway narrowed. “I think that each year, I dread the moment the lights go out.”
“Why?” I whispered, tilting my head towards him. I could feel his breath on my cheek.
“Because I am always afraid they will not come back on.”
[[Next|Chapter Five 11]]“How long are you working for tonight?” I asked. I assumed, with him being the Warden, he probably had to work most of the night. <<if $pits == "true">> “Or, in other words, how long am I on duty for tonight?” While everyone else was whiling away the night in revelry, I was patrolling and taking death cards from children. It didn’t feel very festive.<</if>>
“It really depends,” he said.
“On?”
“On what happens when the lights go out.”
I looked above me at the dimming lanterns. They were starting to ebb into something soft and unnatural, casting the world around us in a dull glow.
People parted as we walked through the districts. My stomach growled at the different sights and smells of food. So much so that I ended up reaching into the basket for one of Hazel’s muffins. When I offered Gabriel one, he shook his head.
“Warden, do you even eat?” I of course knew he did, but it seemed far too infrequent for my liking.
“I assure you. I do eat. Nutrition is important. Though, I will admit that certain things do get in my way.”
“Tonight for example?”
“I always knew I would be working the festival,” he said. “It was what happened before the festival that interrupted my meal.”
“What happened?” It was nice, listening to him speak of his job. He did not become animated like Milo did. Nor was he as excitable about Hazel. But the calm cadence of his voice was pleasant to listen to.
“There was an incident involving pollen and a swarm of bees which caused the third district over to shut down for the afternoon.”
“Oh,” I said softly.
“Then, there was a theft within the gem district, and we thought a new gate was going to open, but thankfully it was a prank. We found the source. An enchanted mirror that was nothing more than a parlor trick.”
The alleyway began to narrow, brushing us together as we continued to walk. “And this is a typical day for you?”
“Not all of what I do is dire. In fact, most would consider what I do mundane. But it is an important job.”
<<if $pits == "false">>I held out the muffin, looking at it with a soft sigh. Bees and thievery is what kept him from a meal tonight. He could afford to eat and walk. “Please eat. It’s a festival. No one is going to blame you for eating a muffin during a festival patrol.”
With a sigh, he took it, taking a large bite. “It is good.”<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Five 11]]Music filtered through our conversation and the wandering souls around us until we came to a large open field of flowers. People were stomping and dancing in the middle, sending up bits of flower petals in gushes of powder. With each stomp of their feet, puffs of pink, blues and greens burst to life around them, coating their skin.
Next to me, Gabriel gave a small but weary sound as he began to walk the perimeter of the dance floor. Or field was really more like it. His eyes were sharp as he looked in at the crowd. I noticed the muffin he had been working on gone, and wondered when he had eaten it all. Either way, I wandered behind him, keeping close. Up above us, the lanterns were beginning to flicker.
“How much longer until the lanterns go out?” I asked.
Gabriel eyed them curiously. “Not long now,” he said. “You’ll know the moment before true darkness. There is a glow that is burned into your retinas that will make you think it is light long after it actually is.”
“If no magic is supposed to be in this district, why is it that they rely on magic to relight the lanterns every year?”
Gabriel laughed. “I have often wondered the same thing. But I suppose you cannot light all lanterns of a world by hand.”
“You could if everyone lit one.”
“Tradition falls hard,” he said. He had eyes for a few velvet coated men and women within the field. Upon catching their gaze, they sheepishly moved off the dance floor. I almost felt bad for them. It felt as if no one of the Velvet Guard had the time they properly needed.
Gabriel shook his head slowly. I wondered just how much trouble they were going to be in the following day.
“Is this the biggest festival of the year?” I wanted to distract him from scolding his men.
“I suppose. Each district has their own celebrations. Customs that come from different worlds. We do not have any one big over arcing holiday within the market. Festivals though, we enjoy quite frequently.”
“What other festivals are there?”
He was about to answer when the lights up above flickered again. Around us, the music came to a halt, the dancing ceasing and the colored powder settling to the ground.
When the lights dipped out, the world around me went into a hush.
The sound of the market zipped into nothing and I felt myself weightless. My feet no longer felt as if they were upon the soft ground and the air around me felt thick and congealed. I sucked in a breath, feeling a cold flame slide down my lungs. Then, my ears popped. It was nothing loud or jarring. Just a small little pop and a hiss that traveled through my ears.
Then the lights came back on.
[[Next|Chapter Five 12]]
A cheer rose up all around us, echoing through the streets in celebration.
The lanterns were bright. More so than I had ever seen them and lifted much higher in the sky than when I had first arrived. Gabriel’s eyes were wandering throughout the district, looking for anything amiss. Gently, he pulled a series of pebbles out of his pocket, holding them out in the palm of his hand. Nothing happened. They stayed the same and I saw the relief that settled across his shoulders.
I could still feel the magic of the lanterns racing through me. The feeling jarring. Around me, a few others stood a bit dazed. I wondered just how many of them were too inebriated to have felt what just happened or how many of them were so used to it by now that they hardly even noticed it anymore. It left me slightly breathless. By far, it was the biggest amount of magic I had felt course around me thus far.
“What does that mean?” I asked, gesturing to the stones and regaining my composure.
“That,” Gabriel said, pocketing the rest of the stones, “means I am officially off duty.”
My eyes went wide. The words sounded odd coming from a man such as him. “Really?”
“Yes.” Reaching out, he gently took the wicker basket from me. “Would you like to join me in having a drink?”
<<if $pits == "true">>I was a little surprised by the invitation but he looked worn from his patrol. Meanwhile, I felt as if my world was tipping into an array of colors before swimming back into focus. I could probably use with something to eat, if I was going to be honest.<</if>> I narrowed my eyes at him. “Does this drink include actually having food?”
“I had a muffin,” he pointed out. Though I could tell his smile was warm and teasing. “But yes. I think food is also in order.”
“And if work interrupts us? You don’t seem like a man who knows what an evening off is.”
Gabriel sighed. “I will have to go and take care of whatever task is at hand, but perhaps I can give everyone around us enough of a withering glare to keep them from coming to me for the truly ridiculous situations.”
[[(teasing) Is that even allowed?]]
[[Yes. You are the Warden. There has to be some perks, right?]]
<<if $pits == "false">>[[Gabriel, I would absolutely love to join you|Join Gabriel]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>[[Sure, I'll join you|Join Gabriel]]<</if>>“Is that even allowed?” I stage whispered.
He leaned down, so his eyes were level with my own. “Whether it is or not does not matter. I’m the Warden, remember? I have to be able to make some of my own rules.”
I laughed loudly at that, feeling the weight of the magic finally dissipating around us as the festivities continued. Without another word, I followed him, ready to actually spend my evening with this man, away from his work and the endless question of what to do about the Barons.
The multicolored dust kicked up over our feet, splotching our boots with vivid colors of vibrant pigment. I could hear the thrum of feet start again, along with the base of the drum and the beginning twangs of a guitar. The festivities would last long into the night. A celebration that the lanterns had once again been lit and for another year, the market would be awash in their glow.
“May I guide you?” he asked, his hand outstretched for a moment, as if he was hesitant to touch me. I nodded, unsure of what he even meant, and when I did, he placed his hand on the small of my back. The contact was intimate. His hand warm against me.
Gently, he wove me through a few of the alleys where I saw people leaning unsteadily against the walls, their faces flush with drink. We reached a small dip that I would have been hard-pressed to have seen on my own and Gabriel gestured for me to step inside. I had to flatten myself to the side to even slip through the wall, and I was almost certain that it was a passageway that was not normally there.
Emerging, I blinked a few times, not quite understanding what I was seeing.
The floor was black onyx, reflecting the bright white of the lanterns strung above and making the expanse before us look like a field of stars. It flowed seamlessly into a dark ocean, the sound of the market disappearing as the gentle roar of the sea took its place. A beautiful chandelier hung heavily up top, twirling slowly and casting fine particles of gold dust all around us.
“Mr. Caine,” a woman to my right bowed deeply as she watched Gabriel come through. “The usual, sir?”
“Yes, Loraina. That would be appreciated.”
We were led to the edge of the onyx expanse and to a small cabana draped in white silk. There was a table there, a chair placed on either side, and a single candle burning in the middle.
“Vintage, sir?”
Gabriel was pulling out the chair for me, gesturing for me to sit down before he scooted it back in. “Let’s do something different tonight. It is festival, after all. How about a vintage from the Scalariian realm. Circa 2253.”
“A fine choice, sir.”
The woman walked off, leaving us alone.
Here, Gabriel looked at peace. Leaning back in his chair, he cast his silver gaze out towards the ocean. I could not tell where the night met the horizon and where the world stopped. It was an endless sea of black before me with the painted white cap waves occasionally cresting in the distance.
“I enjoy this area of the ocean,” he said gently. His voice was so soft that I nearly did not hear him. “I am someone who does not enjoy water. I am around the sludge of it on a daily. But here, the waves are clean and crisp and the night air does not smell of waste. It is peaceful.”
The docks did have a distinct fish odor, I had noticed. One that I was sure got old, even after a nose got used to it. I couldn’t imagine being greeted by the docks each morning and Gabriel’s dour mood seemed to make much more sense than I had originally given him credit for.
“It’s darker here,” I commented, after a moment, keeping my voice calm to match the peace that was settling around us.
“Not as many lanterns,” he confirmed. “It’s a bit more on the edge of the Guard’s jurisdiction. There is said to be islands off in the dark there but as I cannot see them, I try to not concern myself with it.”
When the woman, Loraina, returned, she brought with her two crystalline goblets and a large bottle. She opened it, a silver puff edging from the cork, before she poured the crimson liquid into the glass.
“Did you see any of the festival, Mr. Caine?”
“Not as much as I would have liked. How about you? Did you get to see the lanterns darken this eve?”
“A bit,” she said with a smile. “My wife is here with me, so we got to spend festival together, despite work. I find that is the best way to make a romance work when you are married to the job.” She gave him a significant look. “The two of you enjoy.”
He handed me the goblet.
I sipped it, not usually one to drink since I have been here.
[[The taste of it was sweet]]
[[The taste of it was bitter]]
[[The taste of it was like chocolate]]
“Yes,” I encouraged. “You are the Warden. Take advantage of those perks.”
He shook his head at me sternly, though I could tell the intent behind it was less than forceful. “We do not get perks. They were cut last quarter.”
I blinked at him before bursting out in laughter. Tonight, I would gladly follow this man anywhere.
The multicolored dust kicked up over our feet, splotching our boots with vivid colors of vibrant pigment. I could hear the thrum of feet start again, along with the base of the drum and the beginning twangs of a guitar. The festivities would last long into the night. A celebration that the lanterns had once again been lit and for another year, the market would be awash in their glow.
“May I guide you?” he asked, his hand outstretched for a moment, as if he was hesitant to touch me. I nodded, unsure of what he even meant, and when I did, he placed his hand on the small of my back. The contact was intimate. His hand warm against me.
Gently, he wove me through a few of the alleys where I saw people leaning unsteadily against the walls, their faces flush with drink. We reached a small dip that I would have been hard-pressed to have seen on my own and Gabriel gestured for me to step inside. I had to flatten myself to the side to even slip through the wall, and I was almost certain that it was a passageway that was not normally there.
Emerging, I blinked a few times, not quite understanding what I was seeing.
The floor was black onyx, reflecting the bright white of the lanterns strung above and making the expanse before us look like a field of stars. It flowed seamlessly into a dark ocean, the sound of the market disappearing as the gentle roar of the sea took its place. A beautiful chandelier hung heavily up top, twirling slowly and casting fine particles of gold dust all around us.
“Mr. Caine,” a woman to my right bowed deeply as she watched Gabriel come through. “The usual, sir?”
“Yes, Loraina. That would be appreciated.”
We were led to the edge of the onyx expanse and to a small cabana draped in white silk. There was a table there, a chair placed on either side, and a single candle burning in the middle.
“Vintage, sir?”
Gabriel was pulling out the chair for me, gesturing for me to sit down before he scooted it back in. “Let’s do something different tonight. It is festival, after all. How about a vintage from the Scalariian realm. Circa 2253.”
“A fine choice, sir.”
The woman walked off, leaving us alone.
Here, Gabriel looked at peace. Leaning back in his chair, he cast his silver gaze out towards the ocean. I could not tell where the night met the horizon and where the world stopped. It was an endless sea of black before me with the painted white cap waves occasionally cresting in the distance.
“I enjoy this area of the ocean,” he said gently. His voice was so soft that I nearly did not hear him. “I am someone who does not enjoy water. I am around the sludge of it on a daily. But here, the waves are clean and crisp and the night air does not smell of waste. It is peaceful.”
The docks did have a distinct fish odor, I had noticed. One that I was sure got old, even after a nose got used to it. I couldn’t imagine being greeted by the docks each morning and Gabriel’s dour mood seemed to make much more sense than I had originally given him credit for.
“It’s darker here,” I commented, after a moment, keeping my voice calm to match the peace that was settling around us.
“Not as many lanterns,” he confirmed. “It’s a bit more on the edge of the Guard’s jurisdiction. There is said to be islands off in the dark there but as I cannot see them, I try to not concern myself with it.”
When the woman, Loraina, returned, she brought with her two crystalline goblets and a large bottle. She opened it, a silver puff edging from the cork, before she poured the crimson liquid into the glass.
“Did you see any of the festival, Mr. Caine?”
“Not as much as I would have liked. How about you? Did you get to see the lanterns darken this eve?”
“A bit,” she said with a smile. “My wife is here with me, so we got to spend festival together, despite work. I find that is the best way to make a romance work when you are married to the job.” She gave him a significant look. “The two of you enjoy.”
He handed me the goblet.
I sipped it, not usually one to drink since I have been here.
[[The taste of it was sweet]]
[[The taste of it was bitter]]
[[The taste of it was like chocolate]]
<<if $pits == "false">>“Gabriel,” I said. “I would love to join you this evening.” Sticking by his side during patrol had paid off. It was a tactic that I would certainly have to remember. <<elseif $pits == "true">> “You know what? Why not? But I’m counting this as part of my bail.” I was only half joking.<</if>>
“Well, then follow me. I have a spot in mind I think you will enjoy.”
The multicolored dust kicked up over our feet, splotching our boots with vivid colors of vibrant pigment. I could hear the thrum of feet start again, along with the base of the drum and the beginning twangs of a guitar. The festivities would last long into the night. A celebration that the lanterns had once again been lit and for another year, the market would be awash in their glow.
“May I guide you?” he asked, his hand outstretched for a moment, as if he was hesitant to touch me. I nodded, unsure of what he even meant, and when I did, he placed his hand on the small of my back. The contact was intimate. His hand warm against me.
Gently, he wove me through a few of the alleys where I saw people leaning unsteadily against the walls, their faces flush with drink. We reached a small dip that I would have been hard-pressed to have seen on my own and Gabriel gestured for me to step inside. I had to flatten myself to the side to even slip through the wall, and I was almost certain that it was a passageway that was not normally there.
Emerging, I blinked a few times, not quite understanding what I was seeing.
The floor was black onyx, reflecting the bright white of the lanterns strung above and making the expanse before us look like a field of stars. It flowed seamlessly into a dark ocean, the sound of the market disappearing as the gentle roar of the sea took its place. A beautiful chandelier hung heavily up top, twirling slowly and casting fine particles of gold dust all around us.
“Mr. Caine,” a woman to my right bowed deeply as she watched Gabriel come through. “The usual, sir?”
“Yes, Loraina. That would be appreciated.”
We were led to the edge of the onyx expanse and to a small cabana draped in white silk. There was a table there, a chair placed on either side, and a single candle burning in the middle.
“Vintage, sir?”
Gabriel was pulling out the chair for me, gesturing for me to sit down before he scooted it back in. “Let’s do something different tonight. It is festival, after all. How about a vintage from the Scalariian realm. Circa 2253.”
“A fine choice, sir.”
The woman walked off, leaving us alone.
Here, Gabriel looked at peace. Leaning back in his chair, he cast his silver gaze out towards the ocean. I could not tell where the night met the horizon and where the world stopped. It was an endless sea of black before me with the painted white cap waves occasionally cresting in the distance.
“I enjoy this area of the ocean,” he said gently. His voice was so soft that I nearly did not hear him. “I am someone who does not enjoy water. I am around the sludge of it on a daily. But here, the waves are clean and crisp and the night air does not smell of waste. It is peaceful.”
The docks did have a distinct fish odor, I had noticed. One that I was sure got old, even after a nose got used to it. I couldn’t imagine being greeted by the docks each morning and Gabriel’s dour mood seemed to make much more sense than I had originally given him credit for.
“It’s darker here,” I commented, after a moment, keeping my voice calm to match the peace that was settling around us.
“Not as many lanterns,” he confirmed. “It’s a bit more on the edge of the Guard’s jurisdiction. There is said to be islands off in the dark there but as I cannot see them, I try to not concern myself with it.”
When the woman, Loraina, returned, she brought with her two crystalline goblets and a large bottle. She opened it, a silver puff edging from the cork, before she poured the crimson liquid into the glass.
“Did you see any of the festival, Mr. Caine?”
“Not as much as I would have liked. How about you? Did you get to see the lanterns darken this eve?”
“A bit,” she said with a smile. “My wife is here with me, so we got to spend festival together, despite work. I find that is the best way to make a romance work when you are married to the job.” She gave him a significant look. “The two of you enjoy.”
He handed me the goblet.
I sipped it, not usually one to drink since I have been here.
[[The taste of it was sweet]]
[[The taste of it was bitter]]
[[The taste of it was like chocolate]]
“What is this?” I asked.
“Ghost wine. Bottles of it wash up upon the shore here. This is what this café specializes in. They say no two bottles taste the same. And you never know how it tastes until you open it.”
I sipped at it, letting the taste of it wash across my tongue. “It tastes like something sweet. Like brown sugar and strawberries. Maybe like those nectar berries the Baron’s wife served to me today.”
Gabriel smiled. “I like the way you describe it. For someone with very little memories you are incredibly astute in how you view the world and the things in it.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“I assure you, I do mean that as a compliment.”
I looked around. I could see more cabanas lined further down on either side of us. Gentle, bell like laughter came from one, and I watched as a familiar silhouette ran towards the ocean waves.
“Is that…” I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes. Chrysanthemum.
She was kicking up at the black water, sending silver dew drops high in the sky where they hung like stars. Emerging from the cabana, was a lavender haired man, a white coat draped over his arm, the shoulders of his button down studded with pearls.
“Noctine,” she called. His name sounded like a song coming from her lips. He said nothing in return, only flicked his wrist, his coat disappearing as he walked forward, taking the woman within his arms. She melted against him, her face tipped towards his in adoration. They were lit by the light of the paper moon, their silhouette an opal outline against the otherwise black horizon. I watched as he brushed her hair from her cheeks and kissed her sweetly.
My eyes ticked away, wishing to give them their private moment. Somewhere in the background, I heard the slither of the snake.
[[How often do you come here?]]
[[Thank you for bringing me to such a place]]
[[Do you come here to hide from your job?]]“What is this?” I asked.
“Ghost wine. Bottles of it wash up upon the shore here. This is what this café specializes in. They say no two bottles taste the same. And you never know how it tastes until you open it.”
I sipped at it, letting the taste of it wash across my tongue. “It tastes bitter,” I said, my nose wrinkling at the shock of it. I had been expecting something sweeter. It wasn’t a bad taste, just different. “Almost like kafe but with a bit more of an earthy tone to it. Like the mushrooms Hazel has out behind the garden.”
Gabriel smiled. “I like the way you describe it. For someone with very little memories you are incredibly astute in how you view the world and the things in it.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“I assure you, I do mean that as a compliment.”
I looked around. I could see more cabanas lined further down on either side of us. Gentle, bell like laughter came from one, and I watched as a familiar silhouette ran towards the ocean waves.
“Is that…” I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes. Chrysanthemum.
She was kicking up at the black water, sending silver dew drops high in the sky where they hung like stars. Emerging from the cabana, was a lavender haired man, a white coat draped over his arm, the shoulders of his button down studded with pearls.
“Noctine,” she called. His name sounded like a song coming from her lips. He said nothing in return, only flicked his wrist, his coat disappearing as he walked forward, taking the woman within his arms. She melted against him, her face tipped towards his in adoration. They were lit by the light of the paper moon, their silhouette an opal outline against the otherwise black horizon. I watched as he brushed her hair from her cheeks and kissed her sweetly.
My eyes ticked away, wishing to give them their private moment. Somewhere in the background, I heard the slither of the snake.
[[How often do you come here?]]
[[Thank you for bringing me to such a place]]
[[Do you come here to hide from your job?]]“What is this?” I asked.
“Ghost wine. Bottles of it wash up upon the shore here. This is what this café specializes in. They say no two bottles taste the same. And you never know how it tastes until you open it.”
I sipped at it, letting the taste of it wash across my tongue. “It tastes like chocolate.” The flavor was distinct and immediate. There was no other way to even describe it. It was rich and smooth and have the telling flavor of coco. “It starts out like the dark chocolate that Hazel likes to cook with but ends lighter, like the candies that we package the truly potent tonics with.”
Gabriel smiled. “I like the way you describe it. For someone with very little memories you are incredibly astute in how you view the world and the things in it.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“I assure you, I do mean that as a compliment.”
I looked around. I could see more cabanas lined further down on either side of us. Gentle, bell like laughter came from one, and I watched as a familiar silhouette ran towards the ocean waves.
“Is that…” I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes. Chrysanthemum.
She was kicking up at the black water, sending silver dew drops high in the sky where they hung like stars. Emerging from the cabana, was a lavender haired man, a white coat draped over his arm, the shoulders of his button down studded with pearls.
“Noctine,” she called. His name sounded like a song coming from her lips. He said nothing in return, only flicked his wrist, his coat disappearing as he walked forward, taking the woman within his arms. She melted against him, her face tipped towards his in adoration. They were lit by the light of the paper moon, their silhouette an opal outline against the otherwise black horizon. I watched as he brushed her hair from her cheeks and kissed her sweetly.
My eyes ticked away, wishing to give them their private moment. Somewhere in the background, I heard the slither of the snake.
[[How often do you come here?]]
[[Thank you for bringing me to such a place]]
[[Do you come here to hide from your job?]]“How often do you come here?” The place was clearly special to him. Loraina knowing him by name was enough of an indication that he had been here more than once. The familiarity in which they spoke to each other said he frequented this establishment.
“Not as often as I would like,” he told me.
“That makes sense. You are dedicated to your job. It must be hard to get away.”
“Too dedicated, I am thinking.”
There was a hint of bitterness in his voice that sounded foreign coming from him. His words had not been what I had expected and there was a large part of me that wanted to agree with him and then label out all the ways his ‘dedication’ was toxic. But instead, I listened, waiting for him to open up. Gabriel operated in moments of silence. I only needed to be patient and allow him to meet me in one.
“I fear I have perhaps stopped living my life,” he said. The Baron and his wife had disappeared from shore, the sound of the two of them only a distant echo now. It made Gabriel’s confession feel all the more significant.
“What made you come to that conclusion?”
“I am… unsure.” He frowned, trying his best to describe what he meant. “But it has been on my mind far too much for my liking.”
“Recently?”
He nodded. “Over the last few weeks. I find that my work does take up chunks of the time that I would spend thinking on this predicament, but I have found myself with free evenings as of late, and I have chosen to spend it lying in bed, doing nothing.”
“Ah,” I said with a bit of realization. “So you’ve gotten some time off, and you haven’t had anything to do.”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know how much time he had really spent in contemplation since every time I had seen him he had been working. That, and with two gates opening so recently, one spitting me out, the other spitting out a bunch of refugees, I couldn’t imagine how this man had ample free time. It was shocking that he felt this was a lighter work load at all.
“Well, what is it you wish to do?” I asked.
“On my free time?” he laughed a little. “I do not know.”
“Well, you have likes and dislikes, that much is clear. Take this moment, for example. This is obviously a place you have frequented. You knew the name of the region or something of the wine that we are drinking. You must have a few things that you like. Maybe you are not taking those into consideration.”
He swirled his wine within his glass. “I like music. Something soft. That tells a tale. I enjoy an arrangement where the notes start sad and slow, but crescendo’s into a passion that builds until it bursts across your skin in a fine shiver. When a piece of music leaves you breathless you know you have consumed a well-made work of art.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his legs at his ankles. “They have live music here from time to time. I try my best to come when they do. Even if I am working, I sometimes sneak away to hide in the alley and listen. Just for a moment.”
“It sounds wonderful,” I told him. Then, with a grin, “I like the way you describe things.”
He laughed.
“I wish to apologize to you,” he said. “I feel as if I have perhaps not been as helpful as I should have been upon your arrival here. Our first meeting being a prime example of that.”
<<if $pits == "false">>[[Yeah. You were kind of a dick]]
[[You were doing your job]]
[[You do not owe me an apology]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>[[Yeah. You were kind of a dick]]
[[Does this mean you are letting me out of my bail?]]
[[You owe me more than just an apology]]<</if>>“Thank you,” I told him. It was suddenly very important to me that he realized how much I appreciated this moment. It was clear that this was not something he shared with others often, and I did not want him to regret sharing it with me. “Bringing me here has been wonderful after such a long day.”
“And an even longer week,” he said.
I couldn’t disagree with him. The last few days alone had been filled with enough new information to make my head spin. The calming sound of the ocean felt like a glue that was holding me together.
“Still,” I told him. “I know you are dedicated to your job and that you didn’t have to do this tonight. So thank you.”
“Too dedicated, I am thinking.”
There was a hint of bitterness in his voice that sounded foreign coming from him. His words had not been what I had expected and there was a large part of me that wanted to agree with him and then label out all the ways his ‘dedication’ was toxic. But instead, I listened, waiting for him to open up. Gabriel operated in moments of silence. I only needed to be patient and allow him to meet me in one.
“I fear I have perhaps stopped living my life,” he said. The Baron and his wife had disappeared from shore, the sound of the two of them only a distant echo now. It made Gabriel’s confession feel all the more significant.
“What made you come to that conclusion?”
“I am… unsure.” He frowned, trying his best to describe what he meant. “But it has been on my mind far too much for my liking.”
“Recently?”
He nodded. “Over the last few weeks. I find that my work does take up chunks of the time that I would spend thinking on this predicament, but I have found myself with free evenings as of late, and I have chosen to spend it lying in bed, doing nothing.”
“Ah,” I said with a bit of realization. “So you’ve gotten some time off, and you haven’t had anything to do.”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know how much time he had really spent in contemplation since every time I had seen him he had been working. That, and with two gates opening so recently, one spitting me out, the other spitting out a bunch of refugees, I couldn’t imagine how this man had ample free time. It was shocking that he felt this was a lighter work load at all.
“Well, what is it you wish to do?” I asked.
“On my free time?” he laughed a little. “I do not know.”
“Well, you have likes and dislikes, that much is clear. Take this moment, for example. This is obviously a place you have frequented. You knew the name of the region or something of the wine that we are drinking. You must have a few things that you like. Maybe you are not taking those into consideration.”
He swirled his wine within his glass. “I like music. Something soft. That tells a tale. I enjoy an arrangement where the notes start sad and slow, but crescendo’s into a passion that builds until it bursts across your skin in a fine shiver. When a piece of music leaves you breathless you know you have consumed a well-made work of art.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his legs at his ankles. “They have live music here from time to time. I try my best to come when they do. Even if I am working, I sometimes sneak away to hide in the alley and listen. Just for a moment.”
“It sounds wonderful,” I told him. Then, with a grin, “I like the way you describe things.”
He laughed.
“I wish to apologize to you,” he said. “I feel as if I have perhaps not been as helpful as I should have been upon your arrival here. Our first meeting being a prime example of that.”
<<if $pits == "false">>[[Yeah. You were kind of a dick]]
[[You were doing your job]]
[[You do not owe me an apology]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>[[Yeah. You were kind of a dick]]
[[Does this mean you are letting me out of my bail?]]
[[You owe me more than just an apology]]<</if>>“You come here to hide, don’t you.” There was no accusation in my voice and yet I worried he would take it as such. But this little slice of the market felt so out of the way, separate from everywhere else, I could not blame him if this is what he did.
Pausing, he swirled the ghost wine within his glass, choosing his next words delicately. I had the impression that he was trying his best to not be obtuse and to perhaps open up to me a bit more. “I do not come here often if that makes it seem any better.”
“I am not judging, Gabriel. It is very clear that you are a man dedicated to your work.”
“Too dedicated, I am thinking.”
There was a hint of bitterness in his voice that sounded foreign coming from him. His words had not been what I had expected and there was a large part of me that wanted to agree with him and then label out all the ways his ‘dedication’ was toxic. But instead, I listened, waiting for him to open up. Gabriel operated in moments of silence. I only needed to be patient and allow him to meet me in one.
“I fear I have perhaps stopped living my life,” he said. The Baron and his wife had disappeared from shore, the sound of the two of them only a distant echo now. It made Gabriel’s confession feel all the more significant.
“What made you come to that conclusion?”
“I am… unsure.” He frowned, trying his best to describe what he meant. “But it has been on my mind far too much for my liking.”
“Recently?”
He nodded. “Over the last few weeks. I find that my work does take up chunks of the time that I would spend thinking on this predicament, but I have found myself with free evenings as of late, and I have chosen to spend it lying in bed, doing nothing.”
“Ah,” I said with a bit of realization. “So you’ve gotten some time off, and you haven’t had anything to do.”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know how much time he had really spent in contemplation since every time I had seen him he had been working. That, and with two gates opening so recently, one spitting me out, the other spitting out a bunch of refugees, I couldn’t imagine how this man had ample free time. It was shocking that he felt this was a lighter work load at all.
“Well, what is it you wish to do?” I asked.
“On my free time?” he laughed a little. “I do not know.”
“Well, you have likes and dislikes, that much is clear. Take this moment, for example. This is obviously a place you have frequented. You knew the name of the region or something of the wine that we are drinking. You must have a few things that you like. Maybe you are not taking those into consideration.”
He swirled his wine within his glass. “I like music. Something soft. That tells a tale. I enjoy an arrangement where the notes start sad and slow, but crescendo’s into a passion that builds until it bursts across your skin in a fine shiver. When a piece of music leaves you breathless you know you have consumed a well-made work of art.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing his legs at his ankles. “They have live music here from time to time. I try my best to come when they do. Even if I am working, I sometimes sneak away to hide in the alley and listen. Just for a moment.”
“It sounds wonderful,” I told him. Then, with a grin, “I like the way you describe things.”
He laughed.
“I wish to apologize to you,” he said. “I feel as if I have perhaps not been as helpful as I should have been upon your arrival here. Our first meeting being a prime example of that.”
<<if $pits == "false">>[[Yeah. You were kind of a dick]]
[[You were doing your job]]
[[You do not owe me an apology]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>[[Yeah. You were kind of a dick]]
[[Does this mean you are letting me out of my bail?]]
[[You owe me more than just an apology]]<</if>>“You were kind of a dick,” I told him bluntly. My fingers fidgeted against my leg. “And while I’m not giving you an out or making excuses for what you did, I don’t really think I am holding it against you.”
He nodded slightly. “You were a threat. You were a being that came through a portal within the market that was different from the others. You were a terrifying anomaly to most that got wind of your arrival. The thoughts I had about you upon our first meeting are not ones I wish to repeat.”
“And now? What do you think of me now?” I felt hesitant to ask. But the night wind was a soft whisper and the ocean sounds drifted within the cabana in such a way that made me feel safe.
“Now I think that you are a wonderful conversationalist. That you care deeply about things that I did not expect you to. And that you respect our ways as best you can, and strive to understand them. I also am thankful that when you do not agree or understand, you speak up. Even if I do not think you should.”
Beyond, a few of the stars dipped down, lighting the sea with a fine glimmer of dust. It created an iridescent wave of silk that stretched far across the night in deep rolls and gentle dips.
“I also do not envy what you have to do,” Gabriel said softly.
I looked down, my glass half drank and my fingers tapping nervously on the glass. “Is that why you brought me here? To apologize?”
“No. I brought you here because you deemed to bring me muffins and walked around the market with me the entire night.” Taking up his wine glass again, he took another deep swallow. “I am sad to say that I have not once had someone take the effort like that with me. Not in recent years at least. And not in a way that felt as if they were not seeking something specific.”
<<if $pits == "false">>“I’ll bring you muffins every patrol if you want me to,” I said, only half joking.
“How about we save the muffins. But, the next time there is music here, would you like to join me?”
“Of course I would.” I really would have loved nothing better.
“Splendid.”<</if>>
Grabbing the bottle of ghost wine, he topped off my glass and the rest of his before motioning for Loraina. “Whatever you have on hand tonight, Loraina,” he requested. “I am required to eat more food, according to this one.”
“Someone needs to make you do it,” she laughed. Looking at me, the woman smiled. “I haven’t seen you around here before, but you’re welcome back any time.”
“Thank you,” I said with a slight nod.
[[Next|Chapter Five 13]]
“You do not owe me an apology,” I assured him. “That day was– well, I still don’t really know what to think about that day. But we were strangers. I did not know you. Nor you me. I’m sure I seemed somewhat of a threat to you.”
He nodded slightly. “You were a threat. You were a being that came through a portal within the market that was different from the others. You were a terrifying anomaly to most that got wind of your arrival. The thoughts I had about you upon our first meeting are not ones I wish to repeat.”
“And now? What do you think of me now?” I felt hesitant to ask. But the night wind was a soft whisper and the ocean sounds drifted within the cabana in such a way that made me feel safe.
“Now I think that you are a wonderful conversationalist. That you care deeply about things that I did not expect you to. And that you respect our ways as best you can, and strive to understand them. I also am thankful that when you do not agree or understand, you speak up. Even if I do not think you should.”
Beyond, a few of the stars dipped down, lighting the sea with a fine glimmer of dust. It created an iridescent wave of silk that stretched far across the night in deep rolls and gentle dips.
“I also do not envy what you have to do,” Gabriel said softly.
I looked down, my glass half drank and my fingers tapping nervously on the glass. “Is that why you brought me here? To apologize?”
“No. I brought you here because you deemed to bring me muffins and walked around the market with me the entire night.” Taking up his wine glass again, he took another deep swallow. “I am sad to say that I have not once had someone take the effort like that with me. Not in recent years at least. And not in a way that felt as if they were not seeking something specific.”
<<if $pits == "false">>“I’ll bring you muffins every patrol if you want me to,” I said, only half joking.
“How about we save the muffins. But, the next time there is music here, would you like to join me?”
“Of course I would.” I really would have loved nothing better.
“Splendid.”<</if>>
Grabbing the bottle of ghost wine, he topped off my glass and the rest of his before motioning for Loraina. “Whatever you have on hand tonight, Loraina,” he requested. “I am required to eat more food, according to this one.”
“Someone needs to make you do it,” she laughed. Looking at me, the woman smiled. “I haven’t seen you around here before, but you’re welcome back any time.”
“Thank you,” I said with a slight nod.
[[Next|Chapter Five 13]]
“So does this mean you are letting me out of my bail?” I asked hopefully. If he had seen the errors of his way and knew that I had been arrested under false pretenses, then there really was no point to me working for him.
“That, I cannot do,” he said.
“What? Why?”
“It is complicated but ultimately, if I null your contract, then I would be putting you up before a tribunal. Something I do not think wise of us to do given your status within the market now. What I can do, however, is perhaps not call on you for work as much. Unless you perhaps wish to come.”
“Tick this to another thing wrong with the market,” I murmured.
Beyond, a few of the stars dipped down, lighting the sea with a fine glimmer of dust. It created an iridescent wave of silk that stretched far across the night in deep rolls and gentle dips.
“I also do not envy what you have to do,” Gabriel said softly.
I looked down, my glass half drank and my fingers tapping nervously on the glass. “Is that why you brought me here? To apologize?”
“No. I brought you here because you deemed to bring me muffins and walked around the market with me the entire night.” Taking up his wine glass again, he took another deep swallow. “I am sad to say that I have not once had someone take the effort like that with me. Not in recent years at least. And not in a way that felt as if they were not seeking something specific.”
<<if $pits == "false">>“I’ll bring you muffins every patrol if you want me to,” I said, only half joking.
“How about we save the muffins. But, the next time there is music here, would you like to join me?”
“Of course I would.” I really would have loved nothing better.
“Splendid.”<</if>>
Grabbing the bottle of ghost wine, he topped off my glass and the rest of his before motioning for Loraina. “Whatever you have on hand tonight, Loraina,” he requested. “I am required to eat more food, according to this one.”
“Someone needs to make you do it,” she laughed. Looking at me, the woman smiled. “I haven’t seen you around here before, but you’re welcome back any time.”
“Thank you,” I said with a slight nod.
[[Next|Chapter Five 13]]
“You owe me more than just an apology,” I told him bluntly. “The flesh pits is going to require a bit more than just surface level remorse. They shouldn’t exist to begin with and you know it. The fact that you are parading me around as some sort of assistant should tell you how fucked up that entire situation is. Someone you deem worthy of the flesh trade was then casually moved to filing some papers? Doesn’t that show you the extent of your delusion?”
Gabriel was silent, weighing his words carefully. I could see, perhaps for the first time, that he was actually listening. The juxtaposition of what he was about to do to me vs. what the consequences of that day had actually become, uneven. The first did not match my crime. I wasn’t even sure if the second did. But at least it was just paper work and following him around mainly.
He nodded slightly. “You were a threat. You were a being that came through a portal within the market that was different from the others. You were a terrifying anomaly to most that got wind of your arrival. The thoughts I had about you upon our first meeting are not ones I wish to repeat.”
“And now? What do you think of me now?” I felt hesitant to ask. But the night wind was a soft whisper and the ocean sounds drifted within the cabana in such a way that made me feel safe.
“Now I think that you are a wonderful conversationalist. That you care deeply about things that I did not expect you to. And that you respect our ways as best you can, and strive to understand them. I also am thankful that when you do not agree or understand, you speak up. Even if I do not think you should.”
Beyond, a few of the stars dipped down, lighting the sea with a fine glimmer of dust. It created an iridescent wave of silk that stretched far across the night in deep rolls and gentle dips.
“I also do not envy what you have to do,” Gabriel said softly.
I looked down, my glass half drank and my fingers tapping nervously on the glass. “Is that why you brought me here? To apologize?”
“No. I brought you here because you deemed to bring me muffins and walked around the market with me the entire night.” Taking up his wine glass again, he took another deep swallow. “I am sad to say that I have not once had someone take the effort like that with me. Not in recent years at least. And not in a way that felt as if they were not seeking something specific.”
<<if $pits == "false">>“I’ll bring you muffins every patrol if you want me to,” I said, only half joking.
“How about we save the muffins. But, the next time there is music here, would you like to join me?”
“Of course I would.” I really would have loved nothing better.
“Splendid.”<</if>>
Grabbing the bottle of ghost wine, he topped off my glass and the rest of his before motioning for Loraina. “Whatever you have on hand tonight, Loraina,” he requested. “I am required to eat more food, according to this one.”
“Someone needs to make you do it,” she laughed. Looking at me, the woman smiled. “I haven’t seen you around here before, but you’re welcome back any time.”
“Thank you,” I said with a slight nod.
[[Next|Chapter Five 13]]
I shook my head, trying to make him understand that I did not hold it against him. The more I wandered the Night Market and the more I got to know him, the more his actions made sense. “You were doing your job. And while I don’t always agree with your actions, I do get that you had a role to play there.”
He nodded slightly. “You were a threat. You were a being that came through a portal within the market that was different from the others. You were a terrifying anomaly to most that got wind of your arrival. The thoughts I had about you upon our first meeting are not ones I wish to repeat.”
“And now? What do you think of me now?” I felt hesitant to ask. But the night wind was a soft whisper and the ocean sounds drifted within the cabana in such a way that made me feel safe.
“Now I think that you are a wonderful conversationalist. That you care deeply about things that I did not expect you to. And that you respect our ways as best you can, and strive to understand them. I also am thankful that when you do not agree or understand, you speak up. Even if I do not think you should.”
Beyond, a few of the stars dipped down, lighting the sea with a fine glimmer of dust. It created an iridescent wave of silk that stretched far across the night in deep rolls and gentle dips.
“I also do not envy what you have to do,” Gabriel said softly.
I looked down, my glass half drank and my fingers tapping nervously on the glass. “Is that why you brought me here? To apologize?”
“No. I brought you here because you deemed to bring me muffins and walked around the market with me the entire night.” Taking up his wine glass again, he took another deep swallow. “I am sad to say that I have not once had someone take the effort like that with me. Not in recent years at least. And not in a way that felt as if they were not seeking something specific.”
<<if $pits == "false">>“I’ll bring you muffins every patrol if you want me to,” I said, only half joking.
“How about we save the muffins. But, the next time there is music here, would you like to join me?”
“Of course I would.” I really would have loved nothing better.
“Splendid.”<</if>>
Grabbing the bottle of ghost wine, he topped off my glass and the rest of his before motioning for Loraina. “Whatever you have on hand tonight, Loraina,” he requested. “I am required to eat more food, according to this one.”
“Someone needs to make you do it,” she laughed. Looking at me, the woman smiled. “I haven’t seen you around here before, but you’re welcome back any time.”
“Thank you,” I said with a slight nod.
[[Next|Chapter Five 13]]
That night, as food was rolled out to us, I sat with Gabriel near the waves. Listening to the sound of the ocean and the deep timber of his voice for the next several hours, speaking about everything and nothing at once. There was nothing particularly important about our conversation. Nothing that I could say was incredibly interesting or profound, but I found myself hanging on his every word. I laughed more that night than I thought I would as we finished the bottle of ghost wine and started in on another. This one tasted something woodsy and a bit stale and ended with us throwing the bottle back into the ocean where Gabriel assured me, the spirits would make another batch for Loraina’s café.
When we walked back to Hazel’s that evening, both of us wove just slightly through the alley, unsteady on our feet. I felt a warm happiness settle over me then. Before long, we were at Hazel’s gate, the moss covered archway solid behind my back as I leaned against it for support.
“I apologize for keeping you out so late,” he said. “Please give Ms. Albright my condolences if you have a headache in the morning.”
I laughed at him. “Being who she is, I’m sure she’ll be happy for me and also have a tonic to cure it.”
“There is a benefit to living with such a woman,” he agreed.
[[Head inside for the night]]
<<if $relationship == "false">>[[(romantic)See where this goes]]<</if>>“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Gabriel. I didn’t realize how much I needed it after a day like today.” <<if $pits == "true">> Furthermore, he had been the last person I had expected to provide such a pleasant evening.<</if>>
“Meeting with the Barons is a trial each and every time. Believe me. I understand.” Out of everyone, I was certain he understood the most, in fact. Hazel had told me the other day that he often times was security for their monthly meetings. I was sure the tedium of the Barons was not lost on him.
“Tell Ms. Albright I will be by tomorrow to discuss what happened today and perhaps our next move. We need to decide which Baron we see next.”
I sighed. “First, I want sleep. All of the sleep.”
“That is fair. Have a good evening, $name.”
I smiled softly at him. “You as well, Gabriel. Make sure to eat tomorrow morning.”
I heard him chuckle as he turned, walking down the burnt alley. I stayed leaned against the archway until he was out of sight.
[[Chapter Six]]<<if $pits == "false">>We stared at each other for a long minute, only a few of the blue willow wisps lighting our faces. I felt my chest tighten, my cheeks flush with drink, and my fingers itching to reach out and hold his hand.
I could see it on his face. There was something there that I had not experienced before. His pupils were dilated and there was an intensity to his expression that I had not expected. When he stepped forward, I tilted my face upwards just a bit, my lips parted and my eyes closed.
“I should go.”
I felt him move away from me.
“Right,” I said, feeling my heart buck in my chest. “Of- of course.” I was more confused than anything else, the sudden shift leaving me off kilter.
“It’s not that-” he began, but trailed off when he seemed unclear of what he was even going to say. “We have had a bit to drink tonight.”
“We have,” I agreed.
“It would be improper,” he said.
“Would it?”
“So, I’ll just… go.”
I swallowed. “You don’t have to.”
He stopped, his head tilted downwards, the diffused light from Hazel’s apothecary cutting across his face in one long swoop. “$name. Trust me when I tell you that I would love nothing more than to take you in my arms right now and feel your lips against mine. But, when that time comes, I want us both to be clear-headed. I want there to be no mistake that I want you for you and not because of the drink in my veins.” He titled his head upwards. “That day is coming, $name. It just will not be tonight.”
I curled my fingers against the stone behind me, staring at him.
When he ducked his head, it was to gain his composure again, and cast the heat from his eyes. “Sleep well, $name.”
“Sleep well, Gabriel.”
I watched him walk down the burnt out alley and did not move until he disappeared from sight. <<elseif $pits == "true">>We stared at each other for a long minute, only a few of the blue willow wisps lighting our faces. Neither of us had moved, despite the night having come to an end. I felt my chest tighten, my cheeks flush with drink, and I became lost at the intensity I could see brewing behind his eyes. The face of the man who had almost summoned my death. I had wanted nothing more than to ruin him and yet, I found myself entranced with more and more of our conversations.
I couldn’t decide what that said about me.
“I should go.”
I felt him move away from me, my fists curling at my side, the faint stain from my cuffs a shadow across my wrists.
“Right,” I said, feeling my heart buck in my chest. I was more confused than anything else, the sudden shift leaving me off kilter.
“It’s not that-” he began, but trailed off when he seemed unclear of what he was even going to say. “We have had a bit to drink tonight.”
“We have,” I agreed.
“And I arrested you.”
“You did.”
“So this would be stupid.” He stepped closer, his feet moving in the opposite direction than he had intended for them to go.
“Very stupid.”
He leaned forward, his hands coming to brace themselves on either side of the gate, his body crowding against mine. I could feel my heart hammering against my chest, my breath coming out in muted little pants and my world spun. It was the drink. Surely it was the wine we had shared.
“What are we doing?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“This is wrong?”
It was. No one could say differently. But my fingers snaked out, brushing against his hips, grabbing at his uniform as if to pull him closer. His eyes were silver, glowing faintly as he looked down at me, his lips parted and wet. I could smell the wine on his breath, feeling the way his hips shifted to brush against mine. There was a shudder that went down my back at the wrongness of what we were dancing around.
But then he was gone. Pulling away with a snarl, his back turned to me. “Sleep well, $name.”
“Sleep well, Gabriel.”
I watched him walk down the burnt out alley and did not move until he disappeared from sight.<</if>>
[[Chapter Six]]<img src="images/Ch 6.png"
height="300" width="900">
There was a large lump of grey fur on my chest. For a long moment, that was the only thing that was incredibly clear to me. My eyes were still sticky with sleep and the wisps outside were not tapping at my window to signal that it was time to wake up. Or, at least I didn’t think they were. I had yet to really open my eyes for more than the time it took me to acknowledge what was waiting patiently on my chest.
I could feel the weight of Mr. Billows, bearing down on me, his two paws driving into my sternum. My nose wrinkled with stray bits of fur that were floating around in the room while I could feel the rhythmic twitch of his tail against the top part of my belly. With slow growing clarity, I opened my eyes, blinking up at the fluffy beast. Green eyes stared back down at me, tongue peaking out from between his teeth. Slowly, he blinked at me.
[[Good morning, Billows]]
[[Ack! Damn cat. Get off of me]]
[[Pet the cat and try to go back to sleep]]
<<set $harbormaster to "false">>Reaching up, I scratched his head. “Morning, Billows. I don’t usually see you in here.”
The cat purred, kneading against the soft blanket that I had lying over me. Something hung from around his neck, hitting his furred chest with each rise and fall of his stubby legs. Not quite awake, I frowned, trying to blink the sleep from my eyes. <<if $lanternfestival == "belladonna">> I looked to the corner, half expecting to see Belladonna but found that she had long ago vacated the area, leaving me to my sleep.<</if>> Mr. Billows mewed at me insistently, most likely for more pets as my hand paused in my ministrations. Or, maybe he was just trying to get me out of bed to give him cream. This was the second morning in a row that I had not been up for the morning routine and I felt as if the cat was making his dissatisfaction known.
“What do you got there, buddy?” Continuing to scratch him, I reached around to his front. Billows had always worn a collar. Hazel switched them out periodically to match what she claimed his mood to be. But there was something heavy and metal hanging from the collar now that I did not recognize. Not in relation to the cat, at least. Running my fingers across it, my thumb caught on a small indent, ridges and grooves pressing into my skin. Scooping Billows up under his belly, I held him close to get a better look at what he had.
It was a ring.
A Baron ring.
Unhooking the collar, I held it up in front of me, as if it would somehow change in the soft light coming from the lamps in my room. They were set to mimic the morning sunrise and get me up. I would have to ask Hazel about making them brighter since it was apparent I was sleeping through everything, including a cat's clandestine meeting with a Baron.
The ring in question was tarnished. A black gunmetal, chipped at the edges with an anchor in the middle. Something akin to lightning shot through the grooves and the magic rolling off of it was charged with a crackling electricity that even I could feel pulse in my hand.
“Where did you get this?” I looked at Mr. Billows with wide eyes, but the cat didn’t seem to want to pay attention to me anymore as he slipped out of the room, his fluffy grey tail disappearing behind the cracked open door.
Downstairs I could hear the rumbling of the shop, a customer leaving through the front door and the bell that signaled their departure. I had to tell Hazel about this. The others needed to know as well. Tucking the ring into the pocket of my $bottoms, I gave myself a quick once over in the mirror before heading downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. When I burst through the hidden door and into the lobby of the apothecary, Hazel turned to look at me over her shoulder. She was standing on her ladder, putting one of the jars up to the higher shelf. Down below, Milo stood, handing her small bags and tiny bottles that nearly disappeared once they were stored rightfully away.
“So, when they come in like that, do you ever just give them the wrong order?” Milo was asking.
“No. That would be unethical,” Hazel was explaining to him. A luminescent jar with gold flecks shining from the depths of something green and viscous was balanced on the back of his hand. Milo often times broke several questionable bottles while trying to enact feats of balance.
“Is it? Because what you gave him was a placebo.” The jar wavered, nearly falling before Milo followed along with the tip of the jar, trying hard not to let it fall. Hazel snatched it from him, no longer entertaining his efforts, before placing it up and out of his reach.
“It was not,” she protested.
“It was a topical cream that’s supposed to make him more desirable, and I am here to tell you, Ms. Hazel, there is no saving that man. He looked like a mashed potato with a couple of spuds coming from his brows.”
“Milo!” Hazel protested, though the amusement was clear on her lips.
“Am I wrong?” he laughed. “He’s been coming here for years, Hazel, and it has done nothing for him.”
“I hear he had a loving and committed relationship last year.”
“Did he?” Milo asked with narrowed eyes. “Or was that what he told himself?”
Standing at the door, I cleared my throat. Both sets of eyes turned to me. Neither of them apologetic for getting caught talking about the customer at hand.
“Well, good mornin’, sugar,” Milo drawled, leaning back against the wall.
“Morning, $name,” Hazel said brightly. “How did you sleep?”
[[Good. But Mr. Billows brought me something]]
[[Did we have any unusual customers this morning? Or late last night?]]
[[Don’t say anything. Just hold up the ring]]Startled, I shoved the cat off of me, watching as he rolled to the ground with ease. Something heavy clanged against the floor, thudding to the ground. Billows was looking at me through narrowed green eyes, clearly not amused with my lack of head scratches or willingness to give him cream this morning.
“Damn cat,” I muttered. I was tempted to roll over and go back to bed. If it wasn’t for Billows staring at me insistently.
Glaring at me, he began to paw at his collar. They were an annoyance to him on most days, but Hazel switched them out periodically despite his ire, choosing themed collars to match his ‘mood’. The collar was dark blue with little sprigs of holly painted on it. That was not what caught my attention though. There was something hanging from the collar where the bell normally would have been. It was metal and not the typical type of bell that hung from his neck. Frowning, I rolled out of bed, trying to get a closer look at what the cat had. Surprisingly, Billows let me reach out and grab hold of the thing, sitting patiently as I ran my thumb across the grooved ridges.
It was a ring.
A Baron ring.
Unhooking the collar, I held it up in front of me, as if it would somehow change in the soft light coming from the lamps in my room. They were set to mimic the morning sunrise and get me up. I would have to ask Hazel about making them brighter since it was apparent I was sleeping through everything, including a cat's clandestine meeting with a Baron.
The ring in question was tarnished. A black gunmetal, chipped at the edges with an anchor in the middle. Something akin to lightning shot through the grooves and the magic rolling off of it was charged with a crackling electricity that even I could feel pulse in my hand.
“Where did you get this?” I looked at Mr. Billows with wide eyes, but the cat didn’t seem to want to pay attention to me anymore as he slipped out of the room, his fluffy grey tail disappearing behind the cracked open door.
Downstairs I could hear the rumbling of the shop, a customer leaving through the front door and the bell that signaled their departure. I had to tell Hazel about this. The others needed to know as well. Tucking the ring into the pocket of my $bottoms, I gave myself a quick once over in the mirror before heading downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. When I burst through the hidden door and into the lobby of the apothecary, Hazel turned to look at me over her shoulder. She was standing on her ladder, putting one of the jars up to the higher shelf. Down below, Milo stood, handing her small bags and tiny bottles that nearly disappeared once they were stored rightfully away.
“So, when they come in like that, do you ever just give them the wrong order?” Milo was asking.
“No. That would be unethical,” Hazel was explaining to him. A luminescent jar with gold flecks shining from the depths of something green and viscous was balanced on the back of his hand. Milo often times broke several questionable bottles while trying to enact feats of balance.
“Is it? Because what you gave him was a placebo.” The jar wavered, nearly falling before Milo followed along with the tip of the jar, trying hard not to let it fall. Hazel snatched it from him, no longer entertaining his efforts, before placing it up and out of his reach.
“It was not,” she protested.
“It was a topical cream that’s supposed to make him more desirable, and I am here to tell you, Ms. Hazel, there is no saving that man. He looked like a mashed potato with a couple of spuds coming from his brows.”
“Milo!” Hazel protested, though the amusement was clear on her lips.
“Am I wrong?” he laughed. “He’s been coming here for years, Hazel, and it has done nothing for him.”
“I hear he had a loving and committed relationship last year.”
“Did he?” Milo asked with narrowed eyes. “Or was that what he told himself?”
Standing at the door, I cleared my throat. Both sets of eyes turned to me. Neither of them apologetic for getting caught talking about the customer at hand.
“Well, good mornin’, sugar,” Milo drawled, leaning back against the wall.
“Morning, $name,” Hazel said brightly. “How did you sleep?”
[[Good. But Mr. Billows brought me something]]
[[Did we have any unusual customers this morning? Or late last night?]]
[[Don’t say anything. Just hold up the ring]]I ran my fingers across Mr. Billows back, feeling him arch beneath me as I scratched at his side. My eyes were slipping closed again, the sound of the cat's purr lulling me back into dreams. After yesterday, I felt like I could sleep for a week. The magic thrumming through me had taken it out of me, leaving me to a boneless sleep last night.
Looping my hand around Billows, I pulled him close, curling back down into my bed. The cat nipped at my hand though before headbutting me in the face. A wet nose smeared across my cheek, forcing me to open my eyes. I was greeted with slightly crossed eyes and the scent of cat breath.
“I was sleeping,” I told the cat.
He batted my face before pawing at his collar.
Hazel switched them out periodically to match what she claimed his mood to be. But there was something heavy and metal hanging from the collar now that I did not recognize. Not in relation to the cat, at least. Running my fingers across it, my thumb caught on a small indent, ridges and grooves pressing into my skin. Scooping Billows up under his belly, I held him close to get a better look at what he had.
It was a ring.
A Baron ring.
Unhooking the collar, I held it up in front of me, as if it would somehow change in the soft light coming from the lamps in my room. They were set to mimic the morning sunrise and get me up. I would have to ask Hazel about making them brighter since it was apparent I was sleeping through everything, including a cat's clandestine meeting with a Baron.
The ring in question was tarnished. A black gunmetal, chipped at the edges with an anchor in the middle. Something akin to lightning shot through the grooves and the magic rolling off of it was charged with a crackling electricity that even I could feel pulse in my hand.
“Where did you get this?” I looked at Mr. Billows with wide eyes, but the cat didn’t seem to want to pay attention to me anymore as he slipped out of the room, his fluffy grey tail disappearing behind the cracked open door.
Downstairs I could hear the rumbling of the shop, a customer leaving through the front door and the bell that signaled their departure. I had to tell Hazel about this. The others needed to know as well. Tucking the ring into the pocket of my $bottoms, I gave myself a quick once over in the mirror before heading downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. When I burst through the hidden door and into the lobby of the apothecary, Hazel turned to look at me over her shoulder. She was standing on her ladder, putting one of the jars up to the higher shelf. Down below, Milo stood, handing her small bags and tiny bottles that nearly disappeared once they were stored rightfully away.
“So, when they come in like that, do you ever just give them the wrong order?” Milo was asking.
“No. That would be unethical,” Hazel was explaining to him. A luminescent jar with gold flecks shining from the depths of something green and viscous was balanced on the back of his hand. Milo often times broke several questionable bottles while trying to enact feats of balance.
“Is it? Because what you gave him was a placebo.” The jar wavered, nearly falling before Milo followed along with the tip of the jar, trying hard not to let it fall. Hazel snatched it from him, no longer entertaining his efforts, before placing it up and out of his reach.
“It was not,” she protested.
“It was a topical cream that’s supposed to make him more desirable, and I am here to tell you, Ms. Hazel, there is no saving that man. He looked like a mashed potato with a couple of spuds coming from his brows.”
“Milo!” Hazel protested, though the amusement was clear on her lips.
“Am I wrong?” he laughed. “He’s been coming here for years, Hazel, and it has done nothing for him.”
“I hear he had a loving and committed relationship last year.”
“Did he?” Milo asked with narrowed eyes. “Or was that what he told himself?”
Standing at the door, I cleared my throat. Both sets of eyes turned to me. Neither of them apologetic for getting caught talking about the customer at hand.
“Well, good mornin’, sugar,” Milo drawled, leaning back against the wall.
“Morning, $name,” Hazel said brightly. “How did you sleep?”
[[Good. But Mr. Billows brought me something]]
[[Did we have any unusual customers this morning? Or late last night?]]
[[Don’t say anything. Just hold up the ring]]“Good,” I told the two of them, walking into the apothecary. No one was here. Milo and Hazel’s conversation had made that clear. But I still felt the urge to check. “I slept good. But Billows brought me a little something.” I set the ring down on the counter. It laid unassumingly against the deep polish of the wood.
Both Hazel and Milo looked at it, their heads tilted to the side contemplatively as if observing the ring was going to provide a set of answers to the questions that were quickly beginning to buzz.
“Is that…?” Hazel asked, her fingers stretched out to touch it. She thought better of it however, and allowed her hand to just hover.
“It looks it,” I said. “But Billows had it. Why would Billows have it?” There was a small bit of panic that was laced in my voice, coming predominantly from the unknown. The idea that our actions were already being watched had me a bit more on edge than normal.
Hazel began looking around for the cat. Not that we could really ask him the question at hand, but it felt like the only thing to be able to do. Brushing past Milo, she went to the small icebox she kept the cream in, calling out for her fluffy companion.
“Did he wake you up with it?” Milo asked. His expression was still one of amusement, but there was a tightness around his eyes as he stared at it. Unlike Hazel, he picked it up, examining the ring by turning it over in his hand.
“He had it attached to his collar,” I told him.
Holding it up to the light, Milo stared at it, his expression unreadable. When Hazel came out from behind the shelves that Billows usually hid behind during the day, she shook her head. “He’s not here. $name, was there anything else attached to it? A note?”
“No,” I said with a shake of my head.
[[Is Mr. Billows a Baron?]]
[[Does Billows belong to a Baron?]]
[[Why would a Baron give their ring to a cat?]]I didn’t greet them back. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I should, but pleasantries felt false knowing what I had tucked away. Instead, I looked around the shop, making sure no one was here, before rushing to the door and flipping the sign to closed. Hazel was giving me a confused expression while Milo looked amused at my antics.
“Did we have anyone unusual come in this morning? Or last night even? Maybe after the festival?”
Milo snorted. “Unusual is not the word I would use to describe the man that just left.”
Hazel, ignored him, leaving him to laugh over his own comment, alone. “No. I am never open post festival and this morning has been slow. Probably because everyone is trying to sleep off last night. Why?”
I swallowed. I don’t know why I thought that a Baron would walk in here but it had been one of the first things on my mind upon discovering the ring. Taking the item out from the pockets of my $bottoms, I laid the ring on the counter for the two of them to see.
“Mr. Billows dropped this on my chest this morning.”
Both Hazel and Milo looked at it, their heads tilted to the side contemplatively as if observing the ring was going to provide a set of answers to the questions that were quickly beginning to buzz.
“Is that…?” Hazel asked, her fingers stretched out to touch it. She thought better of it however, and allowed her hand to just hover.
“It looks it,” I said. “But Billows had it. Why would Billows have it?” There was a small bit of panic that was laced in my voice, coming predominantly from the unknown. The idea that our actions were already being watched had me a bit more on edge than normal.
Hazel began looking around for the cat. Not that we could really ask him the question at hand, but it felt like the only thing to be able to do. Brushing past Milo, she went to the small icebox she kept the cream in, calling out for her fluffy companion.
“Did he wake you up with it?” Milo asked. His expression was still one of amusement, but there was a tightness around his eyes as he stared at it. Unlike Hazel, he picked it up, examining the ring by turning it over in his hand.
“He had it attached to his collar,” I told him.
Holding it up to the light, Milo stared at it, his expression unreadable. When Hazel came out from behind the shelves that Billows usually hid behind during the day, she shook her head. “He’s not here. $name, was there anything else attached to it? A note?”
“No,” I said with a shake of my head.
[[Is Mr. Billows a Baron?]]
[[Does Billows belong to a Baron?]]
[[Why would a Baron give their ring to a cat?]]I stood there, staring at them. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I should greet them as well, but pleasantries felt false given what I now secretly clutched. Slowly, I lifted my hand, and uncurled my fingers. The ring dangled off the end of the collar.
Milo blinked at me, the smile he was trying to unsuccessfully hide twitching at the corners of his lips. “I mean, Billows is terrifying, but we’ve all seen a collar before.”
Sighing, I marched forward, placing the ring on the polished wood counter for them both to see. It hit the surface with a heavy thunk, drawing both their eyes directly to the anchor signet. “He was on my chest this morning and this was attached to him.”
Hazel began looking around for the cat. Not that we could really ask him the question at hand, but it felt like the only thing to be able to do. Brushing past Milo, she went to the small icebox she kept the cream in, calling out for her fluffy companion.
“Did he wake you up with it?” Milo asked. His expression was still one of amusement, but there was a tightness around his eyes as he stared at it. Unlike Hazel, he picked it up, examining the ring by turning it over in his hand.
“He had it attached to his collar,” I told him.
Holding it up to the light, Milo stared at it, his expression unreadable. When Hazel came out from behind the shelves that Billows usually hid behind during the day, she shook her head. “He’s not here. $name, was there anything else attached to it? A note?”
“No,” I said with a shake of my head.
[[Is Mr. Billows a Baron?]]
[[Does Billows belong to a Baron?]]
[[Why would a Baron give their ring to a cat?]]“Is Mr. Billows a Baron?” The words were blurted out before I could stop them and while I knew how ridiculous I sounded, it was still a very real fear ticking in my head.
Milo snorted, a mirthless bit of laughter escaping him. “Wouldn’t that be a twist.” Dismissing the ring, Milo shook his head. “Look, it’s weird. I’ll give you that. But I don’t think we should just automatically clock this thing as a Baron’s.”
<<if $miloring == "true">> Hazel stared at it, still not willing to touch it herself. “It looks an awful lot like yours,” she said softly. Her eyes ticked to mine briefly, monitoring my reaction.
“He told me,” I assured her. I could see the relief cross her face at that. She gave Milo a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder, clearly pleased that he had already entrusted me with the detail.
“Baron rings can be copied,” he said. “Anyone with a minor interest in a Baron knows in general what these all look like.”
“Yeah, but,” I frowned at it. “There’s clearly magic on it.” It crackled in response.
“All I’m saying is I don’t know if we should really just trust this came from a Baron,” Milo said. “It’s way too easy.” <<elseif $miloring == "false">> “It looks a lot like yours,” Hazel said with a frown.
I did a double take at that. “Excuse me.”
Milo sighed, setting the tarnished ring down before pulling one off of his hand. Sure enough, it was tarnished bronze with a deep insignia pushed into the surface of the metal. It was similar to the one that Chrysanthemum had torn power from. Only this one, had a gate etched into the surface.
“Why would you have a Baron’s ring?” I asked him, feeling my heart thud against my chest. Hazel didn’t look surprised however which led me to believe there was something more going on.
He looked at me, his next words a bit forced and guarded. “Malcolm and I were together. The rings his.” Behind him, Hazel tipped her head forward, brushing her forehead against Milo’s shoulder.
My eyes ticked to the ring on Milo’s hand. The old Gatekeepers ring, worn proudly on Milo’s thieving fingers. Suddenly, a lot of the emotions surrounding the conversation of Malcolm made a bit more sense. “Oh,” I said, not really knowing what to think. “I didn’t know.”
“Not something I share,” Milo said, putting the ring back on. He then stared at the gunmetal one lying innocently on Hazel’s counter. “I don’t know if we should really believe it.”<</if>>
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Someone could be trying to trick us. Throw us off a trail. I mean, think about it. Why would a Baron tie their ring to a cat?”
[[No. You’re right]]
[[Maybe they want to help us?]]
[[Why would someone go through that much effort]]
“Hazel, is there a chance that Billows actually belongs to a Baron?” The cat loved Hazel and hung around the apothecary, but it was clear he also had other places he went. Hazel had told me once that it was not odd for him to disappear for days at a time. She had always chalked it up to his street cat days but now I was wondering if something more was going on.
Milo snorted in laughter before Hazel could answer. “Please. Why would a Baron’s cat be hanging around an apothecary?” His amusement was quickly cut short however, as he frowned at his own line of thought. “Scratch that. Barons are dicks. Bill probably comes here to actually be treated nicely.”
Hazel gasped, placing her hand over her lips. “Oh. That’s a horrible thought. Why would anyone treat him badly?”
I ran a hand across my face. So, apparently the thought wasn’t all that far-fetched. “You said you got him as a stray?”
She nodded. “I did. But I feel like if he belonged to a Baron we would have known by now. Especially with everything that went down with Malcolm.”
“Let’s not go jumping to conclusions,” Milo said, looking at the ring. “I mean, we are just assuming that thing is actually real.”
<<if $miloring == "true">> Hazel stared at it, still not willing to touch it herself. “It looks an awful lot like yours,” she said softly. Her eyes ticked to mine briefly, monitoring my reaction.
“He told me,” I assured her. I could see the relief cross her face at that. She gave Milo a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder, clearly pleased that he had already entrusted me with the detail.
“Baron rings can be copied,” he said. “Anyone with a minor interest in a Baron knows in general what these all look like.”
“Yeah, but,” I frowned at it. “There’s clearly magic on it.” It crackled in response.
“All I’m saying is I don’t know if we should really just trust this came from a Baron,” Milo said. “It’s way too easy.” <<elseif $miloring == "false">> “It looks a lot like yours,” Hazel said with a frown.
I did a double take at that. “Excuse me.”
Milo sighed, setting the tarnished ring down before pulling one off of his hand. Sure enough, it was tarnished bronze with a deep insignia pushed into the surface of the metal. It was similar to the one that Chrysanthemum had torn power from. Only this one, had a gate etched into the surface.
“Why would you have a Baron’s ring?” I asked him, feeling my heart thud against my chest. Hazel didn’t look surprised however which led me to believe there was something more going on.
He looked at me, his next words a bit forced and guarded. “Malcolm and I were together. The rings his.” Behind him, Hazel tipped her head forward, brushing her forehead against Milo’s shoulder.
My eyes ticked to the ring on Milo’s hand. The old Gatekeepers ring, worn proudly on Milo’s thieving fingers. Suddenly, a lot of the emotions surrounding the conversation of Malcolm made a bit more sense. “Oh,” I said, not really knowing what to think. “I didn’t know.”
“Not something I share,” Milo said, putting the ring back on. He then stared at the gunmetal one lying innocently on Hazel’s counter. “I don’t know if we should really believe it.”<</if>>
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Someone could be trying to trick us. Throw us off a trail. I mean, think about it. Why would a Baron tie their ring to a cat?”
[[No. You’re right]]
[[Maybe they want to help us?]]
[[Why would someone go through that much effort]]
“Why would a Baron give their signet ring to a cat?” I asked. I felt silly even saying it out loud. Though, how Billows even got the thing was not something we were likely to easily find out. The only logical answer did seem to be that someone had attached the ring to him, as strange as it may sound. It was doubtful that a mass of fluff could have stolen such a thing. If getting a ring was that easy, the turnover rate for the Barons would be much higher.
Hazel stared at it over Milo’s shoulder. “He’s never done something like that before.” A stealing feline was not something that most would assign to their animal.
“Are we sure it’s even a Baron’s?” Milo asked.
<<if $miloring == "true">> Hazel stared at it, still not willing to touch it herself. “It looks an awful lot like yours,” she said softly. Her eyes ticked to mine briefly, monitoring my reaction.
“He told me,” I assured her. I could see the relief cross her face at that. She gave Milo a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder, clearly pleased that he had already entrusted me with the detail.
“Baron rings can be copied,” he said. “Anyone with a minor interest in a Baron knows in general what these all look like.”
“Yeah, but,” I frowned at it. “There’s clearly magic on it.” It crackled in response.
“All I’m saying is I don’t know if we should really just trust this came from a Baron,” Milo said. “It’s way too easy.” <<elseif $miloring == "false">> “It looks a lot like yours,” Hazel said with a frown.
I did a double take at that. “Excuse me.”
Milo sighed, setting the tarnished ring down before pulling one off of his hand. Sure enough, it was tarnished bronze with a deep insignia pushed into the surface of the metal. It was similar to the one that Chrysanthemum had torn power from. Only this one, had a gate etched into the surface.
“Why would you have a Baron’s ring?” I asked him, feeling my heart thud against my chest. Hazel didn’t look surprised however which led me to believe there was something more going on.
He looked at me, his next words a bit forced and guarded. “Malcolm and I were together. The rings his.” Behind him, Hazel tipped her head forward, brushing her forehead against Milo’s shoulder.
My eyes ticked to the ring on Milo’s hand. The old Gatekeepers ring, worn proudly on Milo’s thieving fingers. Suddenly, a lot of the emotions surrounding the conversation of Malcolm made a bit more sense. “Oh,” I said, not really knowing what to think. “I didn’t know.”
“Not something I share,” Milo said, putting the ring back on. He then stared at the gunmetal one lying innocently on Hazel’s counter. “I don’t know if we should really believe it.”<</if>>
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Someone could be trying to trick us. Throw us off a trail. I mean, think about it. Why would a Baron tie their ring to a cat?”
[[No. You’re right]]
[[Maybe they want to help us?]]
[[Why would someone go through that much effort]]
Hope withered at his words. I knew that he was making sense but the idea that we had gotten two out of the eight bits of power we needed, in less than forty-eight hours no less, had been an exciting prospect. But it was all too fortuitous. There was something about this that seemed off, and it was probably best that we didn’t get our hopes up. That, and we had to be careful in the upcoming days. Healthy suspicion would serve us well.
“You’re right,” I told Milo. He looked startled at my confession but also a bit pleased. “If this does turn out to be a Baron’s, there could be some strings attached to it. No one is going to send this here and just let it lie.”
Hazel frowned at it. “So we wait then. Because if they sent a signet ring over, and it's the actual signet ring, they are going to want it back.”
“That’s a chilling thought,” Milo muttered. “Maybe keep an eye on your demon cat. Also, I’m tossing into the conversation here that if Billows ends up betraying us, I’ve been right all along.”
Hazel rolled her eyes at him before snatching up the ring. “I can put it somewhere safe. Put some protection around it, perhaps. But, $name, just in case, the next time you meet with one of the Barons, try to pay attention to how they extract power from the ring. Because if this does end up being the real thing, I’m going to need to take a little bit of it.”
I nodded. “I’ll try.” Rubbing the last of the sleep from my eyes, I felt my body beginning to relax after such an unusual waking. “Any idea which Baron I’m supposed to seek out next?” I asked. I wasn’t aware of us having even contacted any more of them. Belladonna had said she would take care of most of it, but even she admitted that her connections only went so far.
[[Next|Chapter Six 1]]
“Is it possible the Baron’s know what we’re doing? Maybe they want to help us.” I offered.
Hazel nodded in agreement. “I mean, you did have the meeting with the Baron of the Books yesterday. It is plausible that they told the other Barons.” Perhaps, this would all be easier than Belladonna had made it out to be. There was a real possibility that the Baron’s now realized what was going on and wished to help us. After all, this was their world too.
“Barons are not allowed to have communication with other Barons,” Milo stated. “One of the weird rules that has been put in place to keep them from having too much power. Outside of their monthly meeting, they can’t get too chummy.”
“That's a stupid rule,” I told him. “It makes it so there is almost no possible way for the Barons to work together on anything.”
“I didn’t say they couldn’t get around it,” Milo pointed out.
“Either way,” Hazel continued, “why would Billows have a signet ring? If a Baron wanted to help us, why wouldn’t they just come here and give us the ring themselves?”
The three of us stared at the signet ring, expecting the answer and finding nothing in return. The ring just sat there, unassuming, but the next piece to the puzzle. There was a part of me that felt a point of pride. Barely two days in to our plan, and already we had two out of the eight bits of power we needed. Assuming, that is, we could extract the power from this one.
“When Chrysanthemum gave me part of the Baron's power, she took it from the ring. What does it mean when you receive an entire ring to yourself?” It was definitely still charged. I could see the brief crackle across the edges around the design. A small charge that popped when focused on for too long.
“I could try to extract it,” Hazel offered.
“And risk the Velvet Guard knocking at your door?” Milo asked. “No magic means no magic to the almighty Warden Caine.”
“I think, in this situation, he would be forgiving.” After a brief amount of hesitation, Hazel curled her fingers around the ring, closing her eyes. We were both quiet as she concentrated on the power pulsing against her palm. I really didn’t know the extent of Hazel’s magic past the brewing of different tinctures and the occasional hex bag, but it looked like she aimed to do something. But after a moment, when nothing happened, she shook her head and opened her eyes again.
“It’s going to take some time,” Hazel said with a sigh. “But maybe I can isolate a small part of the power and extract it. The next time you see a Baron, $name, try to pay attention to how they release their power. It could come in handy.”
“Which Baron even is that?” I asked. I wasn’t aware of us having even contacted any more of them. Belladonna had said she would take care of most of it, but even she admitted that her connections only went so far.
[[Next|Chapter Six 1]]
“But why would someone, Baron or not, go through the effort of attaching their ring to a cat? Send it in the mail. Leave it as a package outside the front door. Or, just come give it to us.”
Hazel was eyeing the ring with uncertainty. “Barons are all about secrecy. Maybe they didn’t feel comfortable just showing up themselves. But, they know what we’re attempting so they decided to give us the ring before we could even come to them.”
“I guess,” I said. “Are Barons really that concerned with keeping their identities secret that they would go through the effort?” Whoever this was would have had to catch Mr. Billows and hope that one of us would notice the ring before the cat lost it themselves.
“Barons are very secretive,” Hazel said. “Even the public ones keep their lives incredibly private.”
“When Chrysanthemum gave me part of the Baron's power, she took it from the ring. What does it mean when you receive an entire ring to yourself?” It was definitely still charged. I could see the brief crackle across the edges around the design. A small charge that popped when focused on for too long.
“I could try to extract it,” Hazel offered.
“And risk the Velvet Guard knocking at your door?” Milo asked. “No magic means no magic to the almighty Warden Caine.”
“I think, in this situation, he would be forgiving.” After a brief amount of hesitation, Hazel curled her fingers around the ring, closing her eyes. We were both quiet as she concentrated on the power pulsing against her palm. I really didn’t know the extent of Hazel’s magic past the brewing of different tinctures and the occasional hex bag, but it looked like she aimed to do something. But after a moment, when nothing happened, she shook her head and opened her eyes again.
“It’s going to take some time,” Hazel said with a sigh. “But maybe I can isolate a small part of the power and extract it. The next time you see a Baron, $name, try to pay attention to how they release their power. It could come in handy.”
“Which Baron even is that?” I asked. I wasn’t aware of us having even contacted any more of them. Belladonna had said she would take care of most of it, but even she admitted that her connections only went so far.
[[Next|Chapter Six 1]]
The door behind us opened with a small jingle, accompanied by the clicking of high heels across the old wood floors.
“We’re closed,” Milo called out.
“I wasn’t aware you worked here, Milo,” Belladonna said, sauntering into the room. “I always took you as a penniless thief that would rather perish than put in an honest day’s work.”
Milo held a hand over his heart. “Aw, thank you. That’s actually kind of a compliment, Bella.”
“I know,” she said with a small grin. Walking straight to the counter, she looked at Hazel. “My dearest little Albright. I have good news for you this morning. I finally have secured passage to the Deep.”
Hazel’s eyes lit up. The trepidation she normally felt around Belladonna was one that was suddenly gone as she stood on tiptoes, her fingers curling against the countertop as if to keep her from running off to wherever it is that Belladonna was speaking of.
“Your contact is a woman named Anemone Feri. She is a hair stylist and a medium. Your meeting with her is this evening. Or whenever you arrive, really. As long as you make it today.” Belladonna handed Hazel a small bit of blooming coral that reacted to the heat of Hazel’s hand. It was a soft pastel pink and twisted upwards, reaching towards the warmth of Hazel’s skin. “Show this to the border patrol, and they will let you in. But, heed this, little Albright. When that coral dies, you return. Wherever you are, you begin walking towards the passage out, and you do not look back. Not even once.”
“What happens if you look back?” Hazel whispered, the living coral reflected in the softness of her eyes.
“You will not live to tell that tale.”
“Fuck that,” Milo uttered, looking back and forth between the two women. “Why the hell would you need to even go down there to begin with, Hazel? This a run or something? I’ll take it.”
Hazel curled the little pink coral close, ducking her gaze downwards. “It’s not a delivery.”
“Then why would you want to go down to the watery pits that is The Deep?”
Hazel stood silent and still, her eyes cast down to the floor, the quiet within the room a deafening drone. I ticked my eyes towards Belladonna who was watching the situation before her carefully. I was unsure if she was gathering information or simply observing what was to come.
“Why would you need to go down there, Hazel?” Milo’s voice suddenly became so much colder. Darker.
“Just leave it,” she whispered to him.
[[Why are you going down there Hazel?]]
[[Milo, leave her alone. I’m sure she has her reasons]]
[[Stay out of it]]I looked between all of them confused. “Why are you going to this place?” I asked. I was staring at Hazel, mainly, wanting to hear it from her. There was mention of a medium and I thought I knew what was happening but felt that Hazel needed to give voice to it. Not Milo.
“I–” she started, her eyes ticking up nervously. “I thought that perhaps I could contact Malcolm. The Deep is known for their ability to commune with the dead. I haven’t been able to go down there though because you have to have special invitation. This is an opportunity that I don’t want to pass up,” she said softly.
I really didn’t know if I should feel bad for her plight or pity that she was obviously still living in the past. While there was no doubt that her brother's death affected her, I didn’t know at what point her actions were going to become detrimental. And in the end, was that really anyone else's right to determine?
Milo ran a hand across his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
“Ms. Albright has a right to her own agency,” Belladonna said. Her voice was even and controlled but even I could tell she was willing to snap if necessary.
“She does,” Milo agreed. “But I also have a right to call her out when she’s doing something fucking ridiculous.”
“Milo,” I snapped in shock.
Hazel shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “This could help. We might–”
“Fucking hell, Hazel. He is gone. Alright? He is fucking gone.”
“He isn’t,” she said, chin tilting upwards with clear defiance. Beneath it though, I could see her begging him to understand. “Milo, he is of the Night Market. He will return. He just might need a little help. I think he might be stuck.”
“He’s dead,” Milo said lowly. “We watched him die. We shoved him through a gate, and then it closed. He isn’t coming back. The sooner you get that in your head and move on, the better.”
“Move on?” she looked at him with teary eyes. “Is that what I’m supposed to do? Just forget him? Like you have?” The accusation was a slap to his face. One in which he stumbled back from. Hazel didn’t wait to follow it through either. She simply turned and stormed into the back room, slamming the door behind her. The door to the garden opened and shut not long after that.
“Well done,” Belladonna said.
“Shut up,” Milo muttered. His fists were clenched at his side.
[[(Anger) You could have been kinder]]
[[Hazel probably needs a little bit of a reality check]]
[[(Gentle) What was that going to accomplish, Milo?]]“Milo,” I tried. “Leave her alone. She has her reasons.”
His gaze flicked to mine. “Stay out of it.”
Milo’s eyes were dark. Something about them was threaded through with a storm of emotion that was not often present on the mischievous man's features. Observing it now, though, I was suddenly all too aware of just how quickly that could change. It hinted at the kind of danger that Milo could hold.
“Watch yourself, Milo,” Belladonna warned. “You are making no friends with this tantrum.”
“You,” he said pointing to Belladonna. “Have already done more than enough.”
Cocking her head to the side, she regarded him carefully. “Apologies. I was unaware that I had to run Hazel’s life past you. I assumed we operated as equals. Clearly I was mistaken.”
Milo rolled his eyes at her. “Don’t fucking–”
“Milo,” I said, stating his name a bit louder. “This is Hazel’s decision.” Whatever this was. It was clear I didn’t know everything that was perhaps going on, but Hazel was an adult and was allowed to make her own path.
Turning to Hazel, he placed his back to both Belladonna and I, raising his brow towards his friend instead. “You going to say anything?”
Hazel shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “This could help. We might–”
“Fucking hell, Hazel. He is gone. Alright? He is fucking gone.”
“He isn’t,” she said, chin tilting upwards with clear defiance. Beneath it though, I could see her begging him to understand. “Milo, he is of the Night Market. He will return. He just might need a little help. I think he might be stuck.”
“He’s dead,” Milo said lowly. “We watched him die. We shoved him through a gate, and then it closed. He isn’t coming back. The sooner you get that in your head and move on, the better.”
“Move on?” she looked at him with teary eyes. “Is that what I’m supposed to do? Just forget him? Like you have?” The accusation was a slap to his face. One in which he stumbled back from. Hazel didn’t wait to follow it through either. She simply turned and stormed into the back room, slamming the door behind her. The door to the garden opened and shut not long after that.
“Well done,” Belladonna said.
“Shut up,” Milo muttered. His fists were clenched at his side.
[[(Anger) You could have been kinder]]
[[Hazel probably needs a little bit of a reality check]]
[[(Gentle) What was that going to accomplish, Milo?]]Milo’s eyes were dark. Something about them was threaded through with a storm of emotion that was not often present on the mischievous man's features. Observing it now, though, I was suddenly all too aware of just how quickly that could change. It hinted at the kind of danger that Milo could hold.
“Leave her be, Milo,” Belladonna said. “This is her life. Not yours.”
Milo turned his anger towards Belladonna then, but it was one that the taller woman met head on. I found myself stepping aside, not wanting to enter into a situation I only shakily was understanding.
“A medium,” he said slowly, raising a brow towards Belladonna. She matched his expression, clearly giving him nothing in the face of his anger. He laughed a little at the challenge quirking her lips. It was meant as a clear dismissal and when he turned from her, I watched as Belladonna’s fingers flexed, as if she was debating whether to smack him.
“You really going to listen to her?” he asked Hazel. “You resorting to crackpots brought to you by the local courtesan.”
“Speak out of turn again, Next, and I will not be as amicable as I have been being,” Belladonna warned.
Milo ignored her though, turning his back to her to look at Hazel fully. “You going to say anything?” he goaded.
Hazel shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “This could help. We might–”
“Fucking hell, Hazel. He is gone. Alright? He is fucking gone.”
“He isn’t,” she said, chin tilting upwards with clear defiance. Beneath it though, I could see her begging him to understand. “Milo, he is of the Night Market. He will return. He just might need a little help. I think he might be stuck.”
“He’s dead,” Milo said lowly. “We watched him die. We shoved him through a gate, and then it closed. He isn’t coming back. The sooner you get that in your head and move on, the better.”
“Move on?” she looked at him with teary eyes. “Is that what I’m supposed to do? Just forget him? Like you have?” The accusation was a slap to his face. One in which he stumbled back from. Hazel didn’t wait to follow it through either. She simply turned and stormed into the back room, slamming the door behind her. The door to the garden opened and shut not long after that.
“Well done,” Belladonna said.
“Shut up,” Milo muttered. His fists were clenched at his side.
[[(Anger) You could have been kinder]]
[[Hazel probably needs a little bit of a reality check]]
[[(Gentle) What was that going to accomplish, Milo?]]I turned on him. “She didn’t deserve that,” I told him. “You both lost someone that day and just because she isn’t processing things like you are, doesn’t mean you have any right to treat her like that.”
“Oh?” he raised a brow at me. “And how would you like me to treat delusion?”
I fought to roll my eyes, my cheeks heated with anger. “I’m not going into whatever your opinion is on what happened that day. It’s clear you two don’t see eye to eye on that. But you could have been kinder, and you know it.”
He looked as if he was going to bite back at me. I could see it in the pinched expression and the way his eyes darkened. But I held my ground. Hazel was many things but never should she be on the receiving end of something like that. Not when she went out of her way to be so understanding to others.
With a soft expulsion of heated breath, he waved me away but said nothing more. Instead, he stepped off to the side, his back to both Belladonna and I.
“Well,” Belladonna said, breaking the silence. “I’d say we are discovering your claws, dear heart. Keep up the good work.”
The morning had spiraled quickly. First with the Baron's ring suddenly appearing and now with this. Milo and Hazel at odds was not something I ever wanted to see, and I had a sick feeling in my stomach with the way they had just spoken to each other. But the ring was just as pressing as their hurt feelings.
[[Show Belladonna the ring]]
[[Go after Hazel]]
[[Take Milo aside]]
I stared at where Hazel disappeared with a somewhat heavy heart. I liked Hazel. She had offered me kindness when she knew nothing about me and had given me a roof over my head and food to share. There was no doubt in my mind that she was a selfless woman. But when it came to the death of her brother, I was coming to understand just how much she was not letting go.
“Maybe this will be good for her,” I said softly. “I haven’t been the one dealing with it for years, but it’s clear she can’t move on. Maybe she needs a bit of a reality check to shake her lose.”
“Thank you,” Milo said, throwing his hands in the air. “Finally someone agrees with me.”
“I would not be so quick to celebrate, Milo Next,” Belladonna intoned. “After all, if we are simply measuring this situation by who has moved on the most from Malcolm Albright’s death, I would say that Hazel has approached her life with far healthier habits than you. Unless you agree that whoring and drinking is the way to process grief.”
He turned bitter eyes towards her. “Bit of the pot calling the kettle, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps,” she said with a small shrug. “But I’m not the one who just made a young girl cry, am I? In fact, I’d say going to the medium is a healthier alternative if you do believe her to be delusional. At least, if you are right, Ms. Feri can guide her into the knowledge that he is no longer around. Seems far better for her mental state and her grieving process than yelling at her and insulting her intelligence for caring.”
Milo didn’t quite have an answer. I could see the way he clenched his fist and tightened his jaw. The morning had spiraled quickly. First with the Baron's ring suddenly appearing and now with this. Milo and Hazel at odds was not something I ever wanted to see, and I had a sick feeling in my stomach with the way they had just spoken to each other. But the ring was just as pressing as their hurt feelings.
[[Show Belladonna the ring]]
[[Go after Hazel]]
[[Take Milo aside]]
“What did you gain from that, Milo?” I asked softly. “You know that she hasn’t given up hope.”
“Yeah? Well, she should.” His arms were crossed defensively over his chest, while his head hung down between his shoulders. There was little doubt in my mind that he was regretting what he had said to Hazel, but pride and a stubborn persona, was keeping him from admitting it. That, and he still vibrated with a touch of anger.
“Not everyone processes death in the same way,” I told him gently. “Just because you have been able to cope, doesn’t mean she has.”
“Oh,” Belladonna sang. “I don’t know if we should consider what Milo does as coping. Drinking and whoring around is usually the embodiment of not coping. Or has that stopped now, Milo dear?”
Milo didn’t quite have an answer. I could see the way he clenched his fist and tightened his jaw. The morning had spiraled quickly. First with the Baron's ring suddenly appearing and now with this. Milo and Hazel had odds was not something I ever wanted to see, and I had a sick feeling in my stomach with the way they had just spoken to each other. But the ring was just as pressing as their hurt feelings.
[[Show Belladonna the ring]]
[[Go after Hazel]]
[[Take Milo aside]]
Letting both Hazel and Milo cool off, I stepped closer to Belladonna. She looked a bit surprised that I was not going after either of them but didn’t comment on it.
“Do you know anything about this?” I asked, gesturing to the ring at hand.
“It’s a Baron's signet.”
I could almost feel the way her voice dripped in sarcasm. “Which one? The cat practically dropped it on my chest this morning.”
“To me, it looks like the Harbor Masters. A slightly taciturn fellow who likes to keep to himself.”
“But why would Billows have it?” That was the true sticking point and the only part I found suspicious.
“Why indeed?” I noticed Belladonna had not reached out and touched the ring, only observed it from afar. I made a mental note to perhaps do the same. Or at least be careful around its magic. “Billows of course is not the cat that he seems, but he has been a good companion to Hazel all these years, so I think we all can just let that slide.”
She didn’t allow me to question that statement even for a second before moving on.
“What I find most interesting, however, is that it only took a day. Someone must have tipped the Harbor Master off in what we were doing, and I do wish to know the specifics why.”
“Do you think it will help?”
“No,” she said with a shrug and a pout to her lips. Though, Belladonna’s lips always seemed pouty. “I’m just curious, really.”
[[Do you know how to extract the magic from it?]]
[[Are we in danger by having this ring?]]
[[I thought the Baron’s weren’t going to work together? Why did this one give up their power so easily?]]Looking between Belladonna and Milo, it became clear that neither of them were about to go after her. And while it was perhaps not the right time, I couldn’t leave Hazel within the garden to cry alone. Turning on my heel, I went to follow her. Behind me, I could hear Belladonna sigh.
“Outspoken men should all be silenced.”
“Excuse me?” Milo bit out.
“I wasn’t talking to you, dear. Have your pity party. I’m going to pour myself some tea.”
I didn’t hear what she said after that as the door shut behind me and I slipped through the old wood barrier on the back side of the storeroom, that led out to the small garden patch. Hazel of course hadn’t gone far. She was instead picking apples, standing on a rickety ladder and sniffling. The way she yanked down the ripe bits of fruit, however, told me she was far from wallowing.
Making my way to her, I walked through the garden gate, hearing the latch clang loudly behind me.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” she snapped. Tears were heavy in her voice. “It’s not like Milo is stupid. Why is it so damn hard for him to see that I’m right here?”
I raised my brow at her, not knowing if I had ever heard her talk like this before.
[[Let her vent]]
[[He has a point]]
[[Maybe the two of you need to sit down and talk this through sooner rather than later]]“Belladonna, could you give us a moment?” I asked. The tension was thick in the room and it was clear that nothing was going to get done unless this problem was adequately addressed.
“Of course,” she said, walking over to the small sitting area and pouring herself some tea. Hazel had a steaming pot there still from the morning. “I’ll just wait for you all to hash out your personal drama and pretend like I don’t see a Baron’s ring right there on the counter. The Harbor Master, in case you were wondering. That’s whose ring that is. Sometimes known as the Dock Master. Doesn’t like to be seen. Keeps to themselves really. Oh, but, I’m getting ahead of myself. By all means. Go. Attend to the trauma, dearie. I’ll just wait here, as if I’m not an incredibly important person that gets paid by the hour.”
Sipping her tea loudly, she turned pointedly away.
I guided Milo off to the side, watching as his eyes remained hooded and angry. “I need you to help me understand. What is so bad about letting her go down there?” I asked him. I kept my voice low but knew that with Belladonna’s hearing, she was listening in on it all.
“She won’t move on,” he growled. “She is getting more and more entrenched in this entire bringing him back thing. It’s not going to happen. It can’t actually happen.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if it could, it would have been done by now,” he shouted, uncaring of prying ears. “You weren’t there, $name. He died. He was dead. Your heart doesn’t just start beating again after that and this weird fantasy that she has of him walking through that door again is killing her.”
I could see the panic in his eyes. The knowledge that Hazel’s belief that Malcolm would return was going to one day shatter. Milo was afraid that the longer this went on, the harder the fall was going to end up being.
“Okay,” I said gently. “Okay. Calm down.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the edges. When he slumped against the wall, head tilted back, a series of deep breaths rumbled through his chest. “I can’t stand watching her keep doing this. Every time she fails, she grows more and more disappointed.” There was no doubt that this was not the first time she had tried to find Malcolm. Hazel had alluded to it enough already. But a medium felt safe. A valid option to try and see where it leads.
“But maybe she needs that disappointment,” I told him. “If Hazel thinks there is anyway to bring him back, she is never going to stop. If the medium can’t contact him then…?”
He turned his face away.
[[Milo, you are being unreasonable]]
[[I know this is hard but we need to have some patience]]
[[Simply reach out and take his hand to let him know you’re here]]“You wouldn’t by any chance know how to extract the magic from it, would you?”
“Alas,” she sighed. “I know many different uses for blood. But not for Baron magic. Though I did work for one for quite some time. Her ring was gaudy, however, and was an eyesore I often turned away from.”
“Is this old boss of yours still around?” Would I be meeting with them at some point?
“Oh yes,” Belladonna said thinly. “Locked away in her little tower, too much of a coward to come forward. I don’t think she has many friends. It could be because I killed most of them upon leaving her service.”
I swallowed thickly. I don’t know why it was so easy to forget what she was, but each time she made a comment like that, reality came roaring back to me.
“So I take it you two didn’t keep in touch.”
She looked at me out of the corner of her eye with a smirk on her blood-red lips. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
The backdoor to the apothecary opened again, signalling Hazel’s arrival. She had a bundle of apples in her apron that she slowly began setting on the counter. From across the shop, Milo came walking forward as well, rejoining us. He still looked angry and Hazel still had tears on her cheeks, but they both looked a tad bit more subdued.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. Her words were punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]I looked at the ring, lying so innocently against the wood counter. While the crackle of magic was there, it was faint enough at the moment that I almost could believe it was nothing more than cheap jewelry picked up from the swap meet two alleys over. I was starting to at least come to terms with the fact that anything procured in the Night Market, was rarely what it seemed.
“Are we in danger by having this ring?” I asked, unsure if we should be focusing our energy on extracting the power and sending it back.
“Oh, sweetling,” Belladonna cooed. “We are in danger simply by doing what we are doing.”
I felt my stomach roll. Logically, I of course knew this but to hear her say it so blatantly had me a bit more on edge. Things were happening quickly from the point in which we had made our initial plans. While I wanted to feel a point of pride over our velocity, I also knew that it was going to come with a price.
The backdoor to the apothecary opened again, signalling Hazel’s arrival. She had a bundle of apples in her apron that she slowly began setting on the counter. From across the shop, Milo came walking forward as well, rejoining us. He still looked angry and Hazel still had tears on her cheeks, but they both looked a tad bit more subdued.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. Her words were punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]“I guess I just don’t understand. With the way you all talked, I assumed this would be harder. But now two Barons have given me their power without so much as a thought. I thought they weren’t ones to work together.”
“Do not mistake this fortune as something that didn’t require effort. The Harbor Master has his reasons for doing what he does, and I suspect that when he thought about what was to come, he weighed his options and realized it would be more beneficial to just hand over what we needed before we wasted a trip. As for the Book Baron, that power would not have been given up so easily if you had met with the husband as opposed to the wife. Consider that moment a stroke of luck that will not be repeated.”
I felt a fine shiver go up my spine. Luck. It was all that had happened thus far. But luck had this funny way of running out and doing so at the worst possible moment.
The backdoor to the apothecary opened again, signalling Hazel’s arrival. She had a bundle of apples in her apron that she slowly began setting on the counter. From across the shop, Milo came walking forward as well, rejoining us. He still looked angry and Hazel still had tears on her cheeks, but they both looked a tad bit more subdued.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. Her words were punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]Hazel was clearly on a roll and I didn’t think I should stop her. It wouldn’t matter if I even understood this particular history thoroughly. Heads were too hot right now and tempers were quick to snap.
“I know what I am talking about,” she snapped. “I know everyone assumes that I don’t because of my mother, but I do know what I am talking about. Malcolm is just stuck, and I am not going to sit and leave him to figure it out on his own. And if Milo would get his head out of his ass, he wouldn’t be doing that either. But no. The great Milo Next deems this an unworthy venture so we all must fall in line. Who does he even think I am? I’m not one of his tavern wenches that just falls for whatever he says because he gives that smile of his. Idiot.”
I rolled my lips within my mouth, more amused than anything else. As she made her way down the rickety old ladder, apples dropping right and left, she huffed at me. “I don’t care what he thinks,” she continued. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m going to get my brother back.”
[[Even if it cost you your relationship with him?]]
[[Help her with the apples and stay quiet but supportive]]
[[He was in the wrong. But we need to focus on getting you to this Deep. Not him]]“Hazel,” I started, knowing she was not going to like hearing this. “Milo may have a point.”
A few apples fell from the tree as she jerked the branch, twisting to look at me. Her expression was one of hurt. “You too?” she asked. “Does everyone think I’m crazy? Perhaps I am turning into my mother after all.”
Slowly, I approached her, picking the apples up from the ground and placing them in a nearby basket. “You aren’t crazy. You are grieving and you are hopeful. But, it has been ten years. If Malcolm was going to come back, he would have been here already.”
“You don’t know the Night Market like I do,” she protested. “Something had to have gone wrong. That’s why I’m doing this. Why can none of you see this?” The tears were filling her gold green eyes and tumbling down across her cheeks.
“It’s not about that. It’s about wanting to see you safe.”
Climbing down from the ladder, she began scooping the apples into her apron. “I don’t care about my safety. I don’t care about what you think or what Milo thinks. What I care about, is getting my brother back.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> Pulling her to me, I held her gently. I could feel her tense, her fingers clenching and unclenching at her side. After a moment, she melted though, falling against me. “You may not care about your safety but I do,” I told her firmly. She didn’t respond but I felt her pressed her face against my shoulder, breathing deeply.
"There's no point in talking to him," she said. "He's not going to listen and I'm not going to change my mind."<</if>>
[[Even if it cost you your relationship with him?]]
[[Help her with the apples and stay quiet but supportive]]
[[He was in the wrong. But we need to focus on getting you to this Deep. Not him]]“Is this a common disagreement between you two?” I asked slowly.
Hazel laughed bitterly. “Can it be a disagreement when he doesn’t even let me get two words out?” Climbing down from the ladder she began gathering the apples she had dropped into the folds of her apron. “It’s not like I am making this up. Malcolm and I were born here. You cannot leave even through death. He is supposed to be back. I just need to find out what is taking him so long. With everything that is going on in the world, and with him having been the former Gatekeeper, there could be a very logical reason to all of this.”
Her hair was escaping from the bun she wore it in and her cheeks were flushed with anger. I watched as she examined the apples, angrily tossing them to the ground if they showed the slightest hint of a bruise. When she hit a wisp, she didn’t even bat an eye.
“I think the two of you need to talk about this,” I said gently. “This is obviously something is still incredibly fresh.”
“You think I haven’t tried?”
Hazel had probably tired until she was blue in the face. But before, Milo could easily sweep it all under the rug. Not now, however. “I can see it forming a split between you two,” I said. “You can’t want that.”
“What I want,” she countered, “is my brother back. And I don’t care what Milo says, I’m going to go do it.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> Pulling her to me, I held her gently. I could feel her tense, her fingers clenching and unclenching at her side. After a moment, she melted though, falling against me. “Okay,” I soothed. “Okay. But lets talk about this all first. You don’t need to do this alone.”
"There's no point in talking to him. He's not going to listen and I'm not going to change my mind."<</if>>
[[Even if it cost you your relationship with him?]]
[[Help her with the apples and stay quiet but supportive]]
[[He was in the wrong. But we need to focus on getting you to this Deep. Not him]]<<if $hazelro == "true">> Moving away from me, she bent down, grabbing at the apples. Including the ones she had discarded. I could see the way the moment was weighing on her. Hazel didn’t look as if she did well with people made at her.<</if>>
“Are you going to go through with all this?” I asked. “Even if it costs you your relationship with Milo?”
Hazel paused, an apple poised halfway to her skirt. “That won’t happen,” she said. Though she didn’t look sure. The uncertainty wavered delicately in her voice. “He loves me like a sister.”
“But things like this can fester if they go unchecked,” I said. When her eyes didn’t raise to mine, I sighed. I had probably pushed as much as I could. Hazel was going to do what Hazel was going to do. I just hoped that she didn’t lose something equally important in the process.
Gathering a bundle of apples of my own, I nodded towards the apothecary. “Come on. Belladonna was verbally berating Milo when I left. We can either go in and watch or go in and save him.”
The soft smile that quirked her lips was a welcomed sight, and together, we made our way back inside.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. “Now. Why do you have a Baron’s ring on the counter?”
“Mr. Billows brought it to me this morning,” I explained to her.
“The cat?” The surprise that should have been in her voice was not there, which concerned me more than anything else. When we all three gave a nod she looked at the ring with a bit more interest, a small smile playing across her lips. It was punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]<<if $hazelro == "true">> Moving away from me, she bent down, grabbing at the apples. Including the ones she had discarded. I could see the way the moment was weighing on her. Hazel didn’t look as if she did well with people made at her.<</if>>
Kneeling down, I began gathering the apples she had dropped. Some of which she had thrown in anger. I could feel her eyes on me but honestly, there wasn’t much I could say to her. The entire situation of Malcolm was wrapped up in too much hurt and sorrow and it would never be my place to tell either Milo or Hazel how they should feel or how they should proceed.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” she whispered.
I tipped my eyes up towards her. Tears dripped down her cheek and fell from her chin. The amount of fear I heard in her tone clung to me, breaking my heart at how small she now sounded. “No, I think you love your brother very much.”
She nodded, taking those words and holding them close. I didn’t know if there was anything else I could do. But for now, it seemed like enough.
Gathering a bundle of apples of my own, I nodded towards the apothecary. “Come on. Belladonna was verbally berating Milo when I left. We can either go in and watch or go in and save him.”
The soft smile that quirked her lips was a welcomed sight, and together, we made our way back inside.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. “Now. Why do you have a Baron’s ring on the counter?”
“Mr. Billows brought it to me this morning,” I explained to her.
“The cat?” The surprise that should have been in her voice was not there, which concerned me more than anything else. When we all three gave a nod she looked at the ring with a bit more interest, a small smile playing across her lips. It was punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]<<if $hazelro == "true">> Moving away from me, she bent down, grabbing at the apples. Including the ones she had discarded. I could see the way the moment was weighing on her. Hazel didn’t look as if she did well with people made at her.<</if>>
“Look,” I started. “Milo was in the wrong back there. He shouldn’t have lost his temper like he did. But that’s not what you need to concern yourself with right now.” Even at my words I could tell she wanted to go and apologize. It left me wondering just how many of these conversations ended because Hazel had a need to fix harsh feelings, rooted deep inside of her. “This medium, she’s in a place called the Deep?” Hazel nodded. “Is it hard to get there?”
“It’s closed off to most,” she said.
“Then we need to just focus on getting you down there. This thing between you and Milo can wait. And maybe the medium can answer some questions that would help with that.” As I began gathering apples, I heard her shuffle forward.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I smiled warmly at her. “Don’t thank me. I actually enjoyed hearing you rant.” She laughed a little at that. “Now, come on. Belladonna was verbally berating Milo when I left. We can either go in and watch or go in and save him.”
The soft smile that quirked her lips was a welcomed sight, and together, we made our way back inside.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. “Now. Why do you have a Baron’s ring on the counter?”
“Mr. Billows brought it to me this morning,” I explained to her.
“The cat?” The surprise that should have been in her voice was not there, which concerned me more than anything else. When we all three gave a nod she looked at the ring with a bit more interest, a small smile playing across her lips. It was punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]“You’re being unreasonable.” He was being an ass, is what I really wanted to say, but I doubted it would solve anything. Not now at least. All restraint would be off if he continued to act the way he was.
“I’m being unreasonable? She is going after a man that has been rotting for ten years.” Despite his words, there was real pain in his eyes. Pain he was not quick enough to hide.
“She is grieving,” I countered. “And with how you are acting, I am seriously wondering how I’m supposed to help guide you with this. Because that display you just did? Hazel did not deserve. And you know it.”
His jaw clenched as he stared somewhere off over my shoulder, his face clearly shutting down. “Thanks for the pep talk, darlin’.” Shoving past me, he moved to head back towards the center of the apothecary. Back towards the ring.
[[Her pain is real just like yours]]
[[Don't do something you will regret]]
[[I think you should stand by her side in this]]“Milo,” I started, trying to keep my voice even. “We have to have some patience. This is not a situation that is going to be resolved by you yelling at her. And honestly, you are the closest thing she has to family at this point. She needs your support now more than any of us.”
“What? Rebuilding this shop wasn’t enough? Sitting with her for ten years while she went on and on about how he was going to just one day walk through the door meant nothing?”
“I didn’t say that,” I corrected sadly. “But how would you feel if you were doing something, if you truly believed in something, and she turned her back on you like this?” They were all they had. They were the only ones who could understand what the other one had gone through.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he said steadily. Without giving me room to answer, he pushed away from the wall, heading back towards where Belladonna patiently waited, sipping her tea obnoxiously loud. With little choice, I followed.
[[Her pain is real just like yours]]
[[Don't do something you will regret]]
[[I think you should stand by her side in this]]<<if $miloro == "true">> Reaching out, I took his hand. I ran my thumb across the backs of his knuckles before curling my fingers around his wrist. I hadn’t seen him since last night and this wasn’t exactly how I wanted it to go now. “Hey,” I told him softly. “I am here for this. You know. I’m not going anywhere.” The muscle in his jaw twitched.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” he said steadily.
“Alright.” It stung, but I could quickly see him shutting down. I didn’t know how far I could logically press it. <<elseif $relationship == "false">> Reaching out, I rested my hand against the back of his. He didn’t pull away, but I wasn’t all together sure that the gesture was welcomed. “I’m here for this,” I told him firmly. “I know I’m new here, but I’m not going anywhere if you need to talk.”
“I don’t,” he said steadily, his jaw twitching. “Need to talk, that is.”
Sighing, I pulled my hand away and nodded. “Alright.” <<elseif $hazelro == "true">>Reaching out, I rested my hand against the back of his. He didn’t pull away, but I wasn’t all together sure that the gesture was welcomed. “I’m here for this,” I told him firmly. “I know I’m new here, but I’m not going anywhere if you need to talk.”
“I don’t,” he said steadily, his jaw twitching. “Need to talk, that is.”
Sighing, I pulled my hand away and nodded. “Alright.”<</if>>
[[Her pain is real just like yours]]
[[Don't do something you will regret]]
[[I think you should stand by her side in this]]“Belladonna contacted someone for Hazel who may be able to contact Malcolm.” I was unsure on the finer details of the situation, but that seemed like the crux of it and the very thing that was making Hazel and Milo butt heads. “I think it's a good idea.”
Hazel shifted on the other side of the counter, clearly relieved to have someone in her corner. Milo, meanwhile, tightened his jaw and crossed his arms in front of him in defense.
Gabriel frowned. “And where is this person located?”
“The Deep.” Hazel lifted her chin, trying her best to look confident. I could see her hands shake, however.
“The Deep?” Gabriel asked. His gaze shot towards Belladonna for confirmation.
“Anemone Feri,” Belladonna provided the name. “She has agreed to try.”
“I see.” The name was obviously one Gabriel was familiar with and didn’t elicit the same type of reaction that the Deep had. I hoped that was a good thing. Turning back to Hazel, Gabriel weighed his next words carefully. “Ms. Albright, the Deep is not exactly the kind of place I would suggest someone like you to go.”
“Someone like me?” she asked. There was an edge to her voice. Around us, I felt the shop go deathly cold.
Gabriel’s eyes closed momentarily. “Apologies. I did not mean–”
“You all think I’m weak, don’t you? That I can’t do it.” She was looking around the room, her eyes lighting with anger. Behind her was a wall full of curses and hexes that I knew she sold for top coin. Vials of magic she had concocted. Weak was not an attribute I think anyone could pin on her if they truly knew her well.
“I do not care one way or the other,” Belladonna said with a sigh. “I am only delivering the information you wished for me to bring. What you do in your free time and with your brother's passing is on you, dear Albright.”
Though it was clear that Hazel’s words were not directed at Belladonna. They were intended for the two individuals across from her. And possibly me.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Do you know much about the Deep?” he asked Hazel.
“I am not stupid, Master Warden.”
[[Hold on. I don’t know anything about the Deep. What is everyone upset about?]]
[[Hazel, maybe we should listen to Gabriel]]
[[No one is calling you stupid, Hazel]]“Belladonna contacted someone for Hazel who may be able to contact Malcolm.” I was unsure on the finer details of the situation, but that seemed like the crux of it and the very thing that was making Hazel and Milo butt heads. “I think it's a bad idea.”
Milo let out a sigh of relief, a weight lifting from him that someone finally agreed with him. Hazel, meanwhile, tried to hide the flash of betrayal that crossed her.
Gabriel frowned. “And where is this person located?”
“The Deep.” Hazel lifted her chin, trying her best to look confident. I could see her hands shake, however.
“The Deep?” Gabriel asked. His gaze shot towards Belladonna for confirmation.
“Anemone Feri,” Belladonna provided the name. “She has agreed to try.”
“I see.” The name was obviously one Gabriel was familiar with and didn’t elicit the same type of reaction that the Deep had. I hoped that was a good thing. Turning back to Hazel, Gabriel weighed his next words carefully. “Ms. Albright, the Deep is not exactly the kind of place I would suggest someone like you to go.”
“Someone like me?” she asked. There was an edge to her voice. Around us, I felt the shop go deathly cold.
Gabriel’s eyes closed momentarily. “Apologies. I did not mean–”
“You all think I’m weak, don’t you? That I can’t do it.” She was looking around the room, her eyes lighting with anger. Behind her was a wall full of curses and hexes that I knew she sold for top coin. Vials of magic she had concocted. Weak was not an attribute I think anyone could pin on her if they truly knew her well.
“I do not care one way or the other,” Belladonna said with a sigh. “I am only delivering the information you wished for me to bring. What you do in your free time and with your brother's passing is on you, dear Albright.”
Though it was clear that Hazel’s words were not directed at Belladonna. They were intended for the two individuals across from her. And possibly me.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Do you know much about the Deep?” he asked Hazel.
“I am not stupid, Master Warden.”
[[Hold on. I don’t know anything about the Deep. What is everyone upset about?]]
[[Hazel, maybe we should listen to Gabriel]]
[[No one is calling you stupid, Hazel]]“Okay, I think I need a little more information here. Because once this Deep was mentioned, everyone started collectively panicking.”
Belladonna looked offended at that. “I do not panic.”
Rolling my eyes, I nodded. “Fine, everyone but Belladonna started collectively panicking. What is this place?”
“A shithole,” Milo said.
Gabriel looked like he was regretting coming to the shop that morning. “The Deep is another section of the Night Market. One that is heavily controlled due to the nature of what is down there. Dangerous creatures lurk in the dark and unlike here, they are not heavily policed. So for someone to be able to even cross down to the district, they have to have special permission. Which, I am assuming Belladonna took the liberty of obtaining.” He was side eyeing her and I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or irritated.
“I’m going,” Hazel declared loudly. “If this is my only opportunity, I am taking it.”
Next to her, Milo closed his eyes, shaking his head.
“Well,” Belladonna rose from her seat, sashaying her hips as she prowled into the room. “I am glad to hear it. It was no small feat to get you safe passage. Just remember, when you and $name see the coral die, come back up. It does not matter what you are in the middle of.”
“Wait.” I blinked. “What?”
Belladonna looked at me, as innocently as she could. Though, there was nothing innocent about that woman. “Oh. Did I not mention it? Your next Baron is located down there.”
[[Next time lead with that, Belladonna]]
[[Did you set up a meeting?]]
[[Two rings in one day? I got this]]I wanted to be the voice of reason here. If the Deep was as bad as they were all making it out to be, we needed to take a bit of precaution. “Hazel, maybe we should listen to Gabriel.”
“I have been living within the Night Market far longer than the Warden,” she snapped. “So you’ll excuse me if I will be deciding my own fate here. I’m going.”
Next to her, Milo closed his eyes, shaking his head.
“Well,” Belladonna rose from her seat, sashaying her hips as she prowled into the room. “I am glad to hear it. It was no small feat to get you safe passage. Just remember, when you and $name see the coral die, come back up. It does not matter what you are in the middle of.”
“Wait.” I blinked. “What?”
Belladonna looked at me, as innocently as she could. Though, there was nothing innocent about that woman. “Oh. Did I not mention it? Your next Baron is located down there.”
[[Next time lead with that, Belladonna]]
[[Did you set up a meeting?]]
[[Two rings in one day? I got this]]“Hazel, no one is calling you stupid,” I said gently. “It looks to me like Gabriel is just concerned.”
“The Deep is a place we are still very unclear of, Ms. Albright. The veil there is thin and the monsters that lurk do not wear faces that we may find familiar.”
I could see the fear in her eyes. Hazel rarely left the apothecary. But to go to a place that was treacherous at best was going to test her to her limits. Though, it was Malcolm. It was her brother. “I’m going,” she said.
Next to her, Milo closed his eyes, shaking his head.
“Well,” Belladonna rose from her seat, sashaying her hips as she prowled into the room. “I am glad to hear it. It was no small feat to get you safe passage. Just remember, when you and $name see the coral die, come back up. It does not matter what you are in the middle of.”
“Wait.” I blinked. “What?”
Belladonna looked at me, as innocently as she could. Though, there was nothing innocent about that woman. “Oh. Did I not mention it? Your next Baron is located down there.”
[[Next time lead with that, Belladonna]]
[[Did you set up a meeting?]]
[[Two rings in one day? I got this]]I was almost positive my expression was a cross between barely concealed frustration and shock. “Belladonna, next time, lead with that bit of information.” The show that had been performed for her these last few minutes I’m sure was entertaining. I needed to remember that in most situations, Belladonna held far more cards than we would ever see.
“It is not my fault that personal drama got in the way of the speech I had planned,” she said. Though, I doubted the truth of it. “Anyway, Baron Kamille is a reasonable sort. And Anemone Feri is conveniently, her hairdresser.”
There it was. Belladonna rarely did anything for free. Not even for someone as sweet as Hazel. But, Hazel’s plight was an easy way to get down there and hopefully, seek an audience with the next Baron.
“How do you suggest I go about asking this woman to see a Baron? I don’t think that’s something that is just done.”
“Most certainly not. But, Anemone is a sweet soul. Reminds me of Hazel quite a bit. You may be able to strike a plea with her. Do I think you will be seeing Lady Kamille this evening? No. But if you make enough of an impression with Anemone then she will be able to put in a good word for you. We can then go through proper channels and seek out an audience.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Ms. Malady. A word, if you will.”
The feral grin she flashed him was punctuated by two pearly fangs. “Of course, dear Warden.”
The two of them made their exit outside, leaving Hazel, Milo and I, within the confines of the room. Hazel was staring at her feet, shuffling them back and forth.
“Milo, will you watch the shop?” she asked quietly.
“Close it for the day,” he snapped at her.
[[I don’t like seeing you two this way]]
[[Hazel, are you sure this is what you want to do?]]
[[Milo, isn’t this worth a shot?]]“And you already set up a meeting?” I asked.
“No. That one is on you. While I can do a great many things, Baron Kamille is not a Baron I know well at all. My connections with her end at sweet Anemone, and even then I have only met the dear once.”
“So $name is going to have to figure out how to get to the palace?” Gabriel asked. “Impossible given the time they will be allotted.”
There it was. Belladonna rarely did anything for free. Not even for someone as sweet as Hazel. But, Hazel’s plight was an easy way to get down there and hopefully, seek an audience with the next Baron.
“How do you suggest I go about asking this woman to see a Baron? I don’t think that’s something that is just done.”
“Most certainly not. But, Anemone is a sweet soul. Reminds me of Hazel quite a bit. You may be able to strike a plea with her. Do I think you will be seeing Lady Kamille this evening? No. But if you make enough of an impression with Anemone then she will be able to put in a good word for you. We can then go through proper channels and seek out an audience.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Ms. Malady. A word, if you will.”
The feral grin she flashed him was punctuated by two pearly fangs. “Of course, dear Warden.”
The two of them made their exit outside, leaving Hazel, Milo and I, within the confines of the room. Hazel was staring at her feet, shuffling them back and forth.
“Milo, will you watch the shop?” she asked quietly.
“Close it for the day,” he snapped at her.
[[I don’t like seeing you two this way]]
[[Hazel, are you sure this is what you want to do?]]
[[Milo, isn’t this worth a shot?]]“Two rings in one day.” It wasn’t a bad way to start all this. Three of the Baron's favors in such a short period of time was more than ideal. I could have this matter taken care of in under a month if I kept it up.
“Don’t get cocky,” Milo warned. Apparently, he was resigning himself with what was to come. Maybe it was the inclusion of a Baron mission that had him more at ease. Or the fact that he now knew Hazel wouldn’t be heading down there alone.
“Yes. I will have to agree with Milo on this one.” It looked as if it pained Belladonna to even entertain those words. “Cockiness will get us nowhere. However, Baron Kamille is a reasonable sort. And Anemone Feri is conveniently, her hairdresser.”
There it was. Belladonna rarely did anything for free. Not even for someone as sweet as Hazel. But, Hazel’s plight was an easy way to get down there and hopefully, seek an audience with the next Baron.
“How do you suggest I go about asking this woman to see a Baron? I don’t think that’s something that is just done.”
“Most certainly not. But, Anemone is a sweet soul. Reminds me of Hazel quite a bit. You may be able to strike a plea with her. Do I think you will be seeing Lady Kamille this evening? No. But if you make enough of an impression with Anemone then she will be able to put in a good word for you. We can then go through proper channels and seek out an audience.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Ms. Malady. A word, if you will.”
The feral grin she flashed him was punctuated by two pearly fangs. “Of course, dear Warden.”
The two of them made their exit outside, leaving Hazel, Milo and I, within the confines of the room. Hazel was staring at her feet, shuffling them back and forth.
“Milo, will you watch the shop?” she asked quietly.
“Close it for the day,” he snapped at her.
[[I don’t like seeing you two this way]]
[[Hazel, are you sure this is what you want to do?]]
[[Milo, isn’t this worth a shot?]]There was an air between the two of them that I had never experienced before. It was cut through with an odd amount of tension and a mixture of fear that I didn’t think either of them quite knew how to handle. Not when it came to each other. Hazel and Milo had been each other's rock for more years than they could count and when it came to the subject of Malcolm Albright, the two of them were the main survivors of that night. They shared a trauma that no one else was privy to. The strain that was brewing between them now was more than uncomfortable. It was disheartening.
“I don’t like seeing you two this way,” I said gently. The time I had known both Hazel and Milo was brief but the bond the two of them shared was one I had been in awe of from the beginning. They were fun, they were loving, they held each other accountable. There was a strength that they found in each other that I did not often see tested and now that I was, it felt like heartbreak.
Hazel let out a brief sob at my words, barely holding herself together already. The second she did, Milo was wrapping her up in his embrace, pulling her to his chest. The way she clung to him brought tears to my eyes and I could see, despite his frustration, Milo felt genuinely sorry for saying what he did.
I turned my gaze from the two of them, stepping aside to give them a bit of privacy. I could hear their whispers and Hazel’s sniffs
“I just want him back,” I heard her say.
“I know.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Wait a moment for Milo]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]
[[Wait a moment for Hazel]] <<elseif $relationship == "false">>
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]
[[Wait a moment for Hazel]] <</if>>There was an air between the two of them that I had never experienced before. It was cut through with an odd amount of tension and a mixture of fear that I don’t think either of them quite knew how to handle. Not when it came to each other. Hazel and Milo had been each other's rock for more years than they could count and when it came to the subject of Malcolm Albright, the two of them were the main survivors of that night. They shared a trauma that no one else was privy to. The strain that was brewing between them now was more than uncomfortable. It was disheartening.
“Hazel,” I started gently. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? It sounds incredibly dangerous.” Hazel barely left the apothecary, let alone travel to an unknown distinct where monsters were lurking within each shadow.
When she turned to me, however, I knew that my question had fallen on deaf ears. Hazel was a woman who prided herself on listening to others. Finding a compromise. But, when it came to family, the rules no longer applied.
“I have to try,” she said firmly. “If I don’t then…” she trailed off, a tear slipping down her cheek.
Next to me, Milo’s shoulders dropped. His chest rose and fell in an effort to control the emotion coursing through him. When he straightened again, he walked to Hazel’s side and wrapped both of his arms tightly around her. The way she clung to him was heartbreaking. I turned my gaze from the two of them, stepping aside to give them a bit of privacy. I could hear their whispers and Hazel’s sniffs
“I just want him back,” I heard her say.
“I know.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Wait a moment for Milo]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]
[[Wait a moment for Hazel]] <<elseif $relationship == "false">>
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]
[[Wait a moment for Hazel]] <</if>>There was an air between the two of them that I had never experienced before. It was cut through with an odd amount of tension and a mixture of fear that I don’t think either of them quite knew how to handle. Not when it came to each other. Hazel and Milo had been each other's rock for more years than they could count and when it came to the subject of Malcolm Albright, the two of them were the main survivors of that night. They shared a trauma that no one else was privy to. The strain that was brewing between them now was more than uncomfortable. It was disheartening.
“Milo,” I started gently. “We have to go down there no matter what. It’s where the next Baron is. What is the harm in letting Hazel try especially when we’re already going to be there? What if it is worth a shot?”
There was true terror there. I couldn’t quite place if the fear was due to what was happening with Hazel or what she may uncover. Malcolm had been gone for so long now I wondered if Milo almost didn’t want him to come home. If coming home would create more problems for him than he was ready for. More uncertainty.
When his shoulders dropped, his head falling backwards, so he could stare at the large rafters of the apothecary, I knew he had given up the fight. His chest rose and fell in an effort to control the emotion coursing through him. When he straightened again, he walked to Hazel’s side and wrapped both of his arms tightly around her. The way she clung to him was heartbreaking. I turned my gaze from the two of them, stepping aside to give them a bit of privacy. I could hear their whispers and Hazel’s sniffs
“I just want him back,” I heard her say.
“I know.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Wait a moment for Milo]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]
[[Wait a moment for Hazel]] <<elseif $relationship == "false">>
[[Give them privacy and go find Gabriel]]
[[Give them privacy and go find Belladonna]]
[[Wait a moment for Hazel]] <</if>>I waited until they pulled apart and Hazel made her way upstairs to go clean up before we left. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do this entire Baron situation, but I knew that I was going to have to come up with some sort of plan. But right now, the air was still thick with the potential of what might happen. It was odd to think that the reveal of Billows and a Baron’s ring was suddenly not as urgent as it had seemed when I had first awoken this morning.
Walking over to Milo, I took his hand. “Hey,” I said. “You okay?”
“Of course, darlin’. Why wouldn’t I be?” The smile he gave me was so similar to the first one I had ever seen from him. All dimples and false confidence.
<<if $sleepwithmilo == "true">> “Milo,” I tried. He was shutting me out. I could tell he was shutting me out. After everything that happened, I couldn’t understand why.
It was hard to match the man that I was seeing right now with the one from last night. My muscles still ached from the way he bent my body. I could feel a heat in the pit of my belly when I ran my eyes down the outline of his arms. Every inch of him had been plastered against me as we rutted against each other in the water. Part of me wished we could go back to the simplicity of that moment when there was only him and me. The rest of the world locked away.<</if>>
“We should probably talk about this,” I suggested. I wasn’t going to let him tell me that this was okay. He could maybe fool himself, but he couldn’t fool me.
“Talk about what?” he started with a raised brow. “You going down to the place where monsters are born?”
Well. Yes. I didn’t quite know that monsters were born there. But I was more talking about the idea of what Hazel was intending to go do. Of the elephant in the room and the one person that would be getting between us if we were not open and honest with each other.
[[This could offer her closure]]
[[What if it works? What if we find him?]]
[[The fact that you are so against getting him back]]
Leaving the apothecary, I went outside to find Gabriel and Belladonna, embroiled in another one of their tiffs.
“I do not appreciate your desire to contact Barons without my consent, Ms. Malady.”
“This over inflated ego you have as the Warden is best curbed, dear Caine. Correspondence is not and never will be, controlled by the Velvet Guard.”
They were only two feet apart, their eyes level with each other and their gazes piercing. I could see the frustration bordering on anger upon Gabriel's face. And the amusement that was a mask for her own irritation, playing across Belladonna’s. Normally, she found a certain amount of joy in irritating Gabriel. I didn’t see much of that now.
“There are channels. Proper ones,” he hissed. “Ones in which I would like to be informed of so I can make sure you are not crossing a line or conducting these meetings for your own gain.”
“My own gain?” she laughed, though there was nothing humorous about her voice. “How dare you. I am seeking to help, Gabriel. If you think this is all some sort of clever ruse for my own unique purposes you are not only sorely mistaken but inherently insulting.”
“Then what are you doing?” he asked, leaning forward. “You never do anything for free and yet here you are, actively canceling your own jobs, in order to help the likes of us.”
The shadows around them began to curl, moaning as they crept towards the two of them, a flutter of wings whispering as they blotted out the wisps. “You little sneak. You still have access to my accounts? You are no longer my guard. Those were to be relinquished upon your dismal.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I must have forgotten to hand them over. I was too disgusted upon walking in on you fucking someone.”
The slap cracked across the garden and the shadows around shattered into ash. The wisps flitted higher up into the trees and even the hydrangeas wilted as they both breathed harshly, the glow from Gabriel’s now silver eyes an eerie barrier between them.
“You forget your place,” she gritted out through clenched teeth. “Despite your once position in my life, you are nothing more than an irritating line of red tape that I sometimes humor now. I have no problems reminding you just how beneath me, you actually are.”
The dark folded in on her then, enveloping her in translucent black wings as her fingers elongated into rigid bone. She shot up into the night sky, disappearing from view, leaving Gabriel to stand by the arched gate and me to stare at him from the doorway to the apothecary.
[[Approach him]]
[[Wait for him to notice you]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[That was harsh. Even for me]]<</if>>Leaving the apothecary, I went outside to find Gabriel and Belladonna, embroiled in another one of their tiffs.
“I do not appreciate your desire to contact Barons without my consent, Ms. Malady.”
“This over inflated ego you have as the Warden is best curbed, dear Caine. Correspondence is not and never will be, controlled by the Velvet Guard.”
They were only two feet apart, their eyes level with each other and their gazes piercing. I could see the frustration bordering on anger upon Gabriel's face. And the amusement that was a mask for her own irritation, playing across Belladonna’s. Normally, she found a certain amount of joy in irritating Gabriel. I didn’t see much of that now.
“There are channels. Proper ones,” he hissed. “Ones in which I would like to be informed of so I can make sure you are not crossing a line or conducting these meetings for your own gain.”
“My own gain?” she laughed, though it was devoid of humor. “How dare you. I am seeking to help, Gabriel. If you think this is all some sort of clever ruse for my own unique purposes you are not only sorely mistaken but inherently insulting.”
“Then what are you doing?” he asked, leaning forward. The power that thrummed from him pulsed throughout the garden, edged with a cruel sort of anger. “You never do anything for free and yet here you are, actively canceling your own jobs, in order to help the likes of us.”
The surrounding shadows began to curl, moaning as they crept towards the two of them, a flutter of wings whispering all around. “You little sneak. You still have access to my accounts? You are no longer my guard. Those were to be relinquished upon your dismal.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I must have forgotten to hand them over. I was too disgusted upon walking in on you fucking someone.”
The slap cracked across the garden and the shadows around shattered into ash. The wisps flitted higher up into the trees and even the hydrangeas wilted as they both breathed harshly, the glow from Gabriel’s now silver eyes an eerie barrier between them.
“You forget your place,” she gritted out through clenched teeth. “Despite your previous position in my life, you are nothing more than an irritating line of red tape that I sometimes humor. I have no problems reminding you just how beneath me, you actually are.”
With one gloved hand, he reached up, wiping away the bead of blood sprouting from his lip. “Tell the others to meet me at the end of the alley when they are ready. You and I are done here.” Storming through the front gate, he made his way into the burnt out husk before him, disappearing into the dark. Belladonna stared after him.
“We didn’t have to be,” she whispered.
[[Approach her]]
[[Wait for her to notice you]]Waiting for the two of them, I made myself busy by the shop door. Packages had come in and still needed to be gone through. I knew I was doing nothing but shifting things from side to side, but I wanted to give them both a moment. Only when their whispered words died off, did I turn back to them.
Hazel was wiping her cheeks and while Milo’s eyes looked wet, he only had concern for Hazel alone. He tucked some of her hair out of her face and leaned forward to kiss her softly on the forehead. “Be careful, yeah?”
She smiled back up at him. “Yeah.
When Milo walked past me, he didn’t look my way. Behind me, I could hear the door gently click shut.
Turning to Hazel, I made my way over to her. She looked pale and drawn, and the day had barely even begun. But the explosion that had resulted I feared had been a long time coming. “Are you alright?” I asked.
She wiped at the tears that were continued to fall. “No,” she admitted. “But I don’t know if Milo and I will ever see eye to eye.” Not on Malcolm, at least.
“What’s going to happen if you do contact Malcolm? What do you think he’ll do?” I looked towards the door, wondering if that day was even possible. Ten years was an awful long time. People changed significantly in the span of a decade. I doubted Milo, or even Hazel, was the same person that had sat in the apothecary on the night that Malcolm had died.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> When I felt Hazel’s fingers lace with my own, I looked down. She pulled me close, drawing comfort from my presence. The very complications I had considered upon Malcolm returning, clearing swirling around her own mind. I squeezed her hand back, brushing my thumb over her pulse and feeling it flutter.<</if>>
“Malcolm was good for him,” she whispered. “Kept him more honest. If he comes back I hope the two of them can mend fences.”
[[What will it mean for you if you can get Malcolm back?]]
[[What if we fail?]]
[[Are you going to be able to handle leaving the shop?]]“Gabriel,” I said his name in warning, in an effort to give him a moment to collect himself fully. When his gaze whipped to mine I backed up against the apothecary door. His eyes were the brightest I had ever seen them, tinged with a ring of pure black. Reaching within his pocket, he pulled out the jagged bit of stone I often saw him hold, closing his eyes and cutting off whatever was shining with him. The silver glow slipped down his jaw, down his neck, and across his arms like running blood, until it settled within the stone in his hand.
I watched it all in silence, unsure if one wrong word from me would cause him to snap.
But when he opened his eyes again, they were the dull grey I was used to. The mask of the Warden was back in place and he looked at me, not as Gabriel, the man, but as the commanding officer to an entire force, tasked to take care of the Night Market.
“$name,” he breathed my name, still gaining control of his own emotions. “How long have you been out here?”
[[(lie) Not long]]
[[I heard everything]]
[[So you were her guard]]I stood silently in the doorway, waiting for him to notice I was there. He was staring where Belladonna had just stood, his fist clenched at his side. I could see his body vibrating and the light from his eyes becoming brighter. Within his pocket, the shard he always carried, the bright shard I noticed him always carry, rang in a high-pitched trill. The earthen floor was vibrating as if a bell had been struck and left to ring into an endless voice. When it became nearly unbearable, he reached inside his coat pocket and pulled his out, clenching it tightly within his fingers. I watched as the light faded from his eyes, traveling down his jawline and neck, before running like blood down across his arm to settle within the jagged stone.
When the ringing stopped, he sighed in relief.
Gabriel stood there, slumped, the silhouette of a broken man. The curve of his spine was bent, and his head hung forward. The moments ticked painfully by but as he stood, I could see the mask back upon his face. Turning, he looked directly at me.
“Ah, $name. How long have you been standing there?”
[[(lie) Not long]]
[[I heard everything]]
[[So you were her guard]]“I’m not going to lie. That was hard to watch. Even for me.” The Warden and I had started on rocky terms but what I had just seen spoke to far more than a singular incident between those two. Belladonna looked as if she wished to tear him apart. The fact that Gabriel was not arresting her after that slap was a little surprising as well.
Reaching within his pocket, he pulled out the jagged bit of stone I often saw him hold, closing his eyes and cutting off whatever was shining with him. The silver glow slipped down his jaw, down his neck, and across his arms like running blood, until it settled within the stone in his hand.
I watched it all in silence, unsure if one wrong word from me would cause him to snap.
But when he opened his eyes again, they were the dull grey I was used to. The mask of the Warden was back in place and he looked at me, not as Gabriel, the man, but as the commanding officer to an entire force, tasked to take care of the Night Market.
“$name,” he breathed my name, still gaining control of his own emotions. “How long have you been out here?”
[[(lie) Not long]]
[[I heard everything]]
[[So you were her guard]]“Just came out here,” I said. I had no idea if he actually believed my lie, but I could see the gratitude on his face. The last thing Gabriel wished to discuss was whatever the history between him and Belladonna was. It didn’t take a lot to realize just how messy it had become either.
“Hazel and Milo are saying goodbye and having a moment,” I told him in an effort to take his mind off of whatever had just happened. “But we should be good to go after that.”
“That is very good.” He slipped the jagged bit of stone back within his cloak. When he caught me looking at it, he sighed. “It’s how I channel excess energy,” he said. “I placed it within the last remnants of my grace.”
“What happens if you don’t?” I asked curiously.
“Explosions.” Walking towards me, he paused by my side at the apothecary door. “We best be getting on our way. Thank you for coming out and checking on me, $name. I appreciate it.” When he slipped inside, it was to leave me still staring out at the garden. I let out a breath that I hadn’t even known I was holding.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]I winced. The thought to lie to him was so prevalent, but I knew that it would do nothing for the trust we were all trying to cultivate.
“So,” I began. “You two were a thing, weren’t you.”
Gabriel’s face remained expressionless except for a small sigh that was only heard and not seen. “It is far from something we need to be discussing at the moment. I assure you, Ms. Malady’s position in my life and mine in hers, is nothing to fret over.”
“Okay, but…”
“There are other things at hand that need addressed. This is not one of them. What can I do for you?” There was no arguing with him. He was clearly on edge and I he struck me as a man that when pressed, would only tighten up more.
“I was just giving Hazel and Milo some privacy before leaving,” I said.
“Yes. Things did seem tense between them.”
I didn’t comment on how the tension had risen when I stepped out here. There was probably no need. The very set of his jaw told me just how angry he still was.
“Gabriel, if you ever want to talk…”
“Yes,” he interrupted, “well, shall we get you and Ms. Albright ready?” Shoving past me, he went back inside the apothecary. I stood there, staring out at the garden and the burnt alley beyond.
“Well,” I whispered to myself. “Looks like we’re all doing great today.”
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]“So,” I started, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet. “You were her guard.”
His expression was withered though there was no denying what I had heard. “A very long time ago.”
“Not always a Warden then.”
“Of course not,” he sapped. “Is there a reason you are out here asking me these questions or did you just come to observe.”
“I was just giving Hazel and Milo some privacy before leaving,” I said, feeling his ire spin through the air. It slowed at the mention of the others.
“Yes. Things did seem tense between them.”
I didn’t comment on how the tension had risen when I stepped out here. There was probably no need. The very set of his jaw told me just how angry he still was.
“Gabriel, if you ever want to talk…”
“Yes,” he interrupted, “well, shall we get you and Ms. Albright ready?” Shoving past me, he went back inside the apothecary. I stood there, staring out at the garden and the burnt alley beyond.
“Well,” I whispered to myself. “Looks like we’re all doing great today.”
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]I waited only a single moment before calling out to her. “Belladonna?” There was no outward change to her demeanor, but I did notice the flowers around her continuing to wilt, dripping in black shadow. When she turned to me, she looked the picture of poise and perfection. Not a single hair out of place.
“I suppose the younglings are apologizing for their petty words,” she stated, nodding her head towards the apothecary door.
“Yeah. They needed a minute.”
“Milo was out of line,” she stated. “It took everything in me not to pluck his nails from the beds of his fingers and feed them to him.” I stared at her, not quite sure how to respond to that. Belladonna was a dangerous woman, but rarely did I hear her talk like that. Gabriel had been on to something though. It was the same something I had thought a few times before. Why was a woman like her, even attempting to help us.
“You have a look on your face, dear heart. How long were you listening?”
My eyes snapped to hers.
[[(lie)Just got here]]
[[So... you and Gabriel, huh?]]
[[I didn't mean to interupt]]I stood as still as possible, barely breathing as I pressed myself to the apothecary door. Belladonna continued staring after Gabriel, most likely seeing him long after he had disappeared from view. The hydrangeas were drooping, dripping in black shadow as they slowly died. But still, she stood, statuesque and unmoving.
The moment she did move, it was to raise her hand to her cheek, touching her fingers to the pale expanse of her skin. For a moment, I thought she was crying, but when she turned, I saw no wetness on her features. Only the disappointment that there was none.
“How long have you been standing there, $name?” she asked with a sigh. She wasn’t even looking at me, but I was a fool for thinking I could have hidden. She had probably heard me the second I stepped outside.
[[(lie)Just got here]]
[[So... you and Gabriel, huh?]]
[[I didn't mean to interupt]]I lied. I had no doubt in my mind that she would know it was a lie. She could probably smell it, after all. But I wanted to give her the out. If she didn’t wish to talk about what I had just witnessed, I didn’t want to make her.
“I just got here,” I told her. “Was coming to see when we were going to leave.”
“Well,” she said, stepping towards me. “I am assuming you heard what Gabriel said. Whenever you are ready.”
I winced. “Right. Yeah. I uh- I did hear that.”
She leaned against the door, settling her shoulder against mine. When I chanced a look at her, she was staring at the paper hung moon off in the distance. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to her. If she was looking for me to say anything at all. Here, in this light, her face looked so soft. Calm and peaceful. It made her look so very young.
“I do not like vexing him,” she said quietly. “Each time I do I think about where I went wrong. How I could have responded better. However, I do believe that we are all tasked with certain plights in life. Unchangeable moors of the ocean that we cannot possibly predict or overcome.”
I blinked at her. “Is Gabriel one of those things?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she pushed away from the wall. “Best get inside, dear heart. Sounds as if Milo has properly apologized. Time to gather your things for the next adventure.” She was then gone. I felt the ruffle of displaced air on my face and the sound of beating wings, but Belladonna had disappeared somewhere in the night. And down that burnt out alley, sat a Warden, licking his own wounds as well.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]“So, you and Gabriel were obviously a thing,” I said, wincing almost immediately at my own words. There were so many other ways I could have said that but instead I had just blurted it out like some sort of awkward adolescent, caught with their proverbial hand in the cookie jar.
She laughed though. Belladonna actually laughed. “I would have thought that was obvious to anyone who listened to us for more than two seconds. Though, not quite the ‘thing’ you are probably thinking.”
Walking over to me, she leaned against the apothecary door, her shoulder brushing my own. The lace of her gown scratched against my skin and the sigh that she let out was filled with such burden.
“Far too many feelings were exchanged at far too wrong a time,” she said. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to her. If she was looking for me to say anything at all. Here, in this light, her face looked so soft. Calm and peaceful. It made her look so very young.
“I do not like vexing him,” she said quietly. “Each time I do I think about where I went wrong. How I could have responded better. However, I do believe that we are all tasked with certain plights in life. Unchangeable moors of the ocean that we cannot possibly predict or overcome.”
I blinked at her. “Is Gabriel one of those things?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she pushed away from the wall. “Best get inside, dear heart. Sounds as if Milo has properly apologized. Time to gather your things for the next adventure.” She was then gone. I felt the ruffle of displaced air on my face and the sound of beating wings, but Belladonna had disappeared somewhere in the night. And down that burnt out alley, sat a Warden, licking his own wounds as well.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]“I didn’t mean to interrupt you two,” I said nervously. “I’m sorry. I really was just stepping out here to give Hazel and Milo a moment.”
Stepping towards me, Belladonna waved off the apology. “It is unnecessary. If we wished for the conversation to be private then we should have gone somewhere else to have it.”
Walking over to me, she leaned against the apothecary door, her shoulder brushing my own. The lace of her gown scratched against my skin and the sigh that she let out was filled with such burden.
“I do not like vexing him,” she said quietly. “Each time I do I think about where I went wrong. How I could have responded better. However, I do believe that we are all tasked with certain plights in life. Unchangeable moors of the ocean that we cannot possibly predict or overcome.”
I blinked at her. “Is Gabriel one of those things?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she pushed away from the wall. “Best get inside, dear heart. Sounds as if Milo has properly apologized. Time to gather your things for the next adventure.” She was then gone. I felt the ruffle of displaced air on my face and the sound of beating wings, but Belladonna had disappeared somewhere in the night. And down that burnt out alley, sat a Warden, licking his own wounds as well.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]“This could offer Hazel closure,” I told him. If he was truly concerned with Hazel not moving on, there was a good possibility that the meeting with this medium would put an end to her idea that Malcolm was returning. Hazel struck me as the superstitious type. She would have to take heed if this woman said that Malcolm was no longer around.
“Hazel will never allow closure,” Milo said. “It’s not going to matter if his dead body is lying before us. She will always think he’s coming home.” Milo’s voice was thin, and he wasn’t looking at me. My heart ached for him.
“Why are you so against letting her just believe in this?”
He turned incredulous eyes towards me. “Don’t fucking tell me that she’s gotten to you with this. You don’t actually believe there could be some truth to this entire calling someone home thing, do you?”
[[No]]
[[Yes. Strangely. Yes. I believe it]]
“Are you going to open yourself to the possibility that this might work?” I asked. “That this Anemone might be able to find him?” Furthermore, was he going to address the fact that this could very well mean that Malcolm had the potential of coming back?
The look he gave me was harsh and deprecating. “Are you saying you actually believe this bullshit of the Night Market calling someone home?”
[[No]]
[[Yes. Strangely. Yes. I believe it]]
“I think we should talk about the fact that you seem very against trying to get back a man who you apparently had a relationship at one point in time.”
He turned from me slightly, walking a few feet away as he winced. “No. That’s not– I’m not against it.”
“It certainly seems like you are.”
“I just don’t think it’s possible, $name. And if I was to give into this delusion that it somehow was, I worry what that would mean for Hazel. How often has she talked about Mal since you’ve known her? Has she shown you the closed door shrine that was his room?”
I looked at Milo sadly. There was fear in his voice but it was not over a lover coming back to life or facing something from his past. I did believe that it was because of Hazel. I wondered what it was like to sit through the years as she continued to desperately try and fix a wrong. And how much it hurt each time she failed.
“Milo,” I said, stepping close. “You could be wrong.”
The very thought made him sneer. “You don’t actually believe there could be some truth to this entire calling someone home thing, do you?”
[[No]]
[[Yes. Strangely. Yes. I believe it]]
“No,” I assured him. “I don’t think you can call a dead man home. I think that you are right. That Hazel is grieving. That she is struggling to let go. But I also believe that you need to back away from this a little. Because she needs support more than your ridicule.”
He shook his head, dragging his fingers through the curls of his hair. “It’s ridiculous though. It’s absolutely ridiculous. If she was right, that’s a fucking horrid situation. Why would she even want to believe that?”
I frowned at his logic. I had thought this had been about Hazel not being able to let go but something in his words had registered differently suddenly.
“Wait. Do you not want to believe in all this because you truly don’t believe in it? Or do you not want to believe in it because that means you left him to suffer somewhere for all these years?”
He took a step back. His eyes were wild, an unhinged look milling about his face. I had hit a nerve. I knew I would. But Milo was not talking about it. In any other situation, maybe I wouldn’t have pressed. A dead lover was something that I would expect to be discussed over time. <<if $miloro == "true">> When things had progressed. Not after a night beneath renewed lanterns next to a secret waterfall.<</if>>
But in most situations, I didn’t think it was common for the dead lover to possibly be coming home.
“Milo…”
Milo held his hand up. “Don’t. Just… don’t.”
I swallowed thickly. The pain was there. Raw and ugly.
When his hand dropped, it hit the front of his thigh. The light from the wisps streamed in like multicolored stripes across his face. It made him look older. Different somehow. A man hiding behind a mask that was slowly being shattered.
“Be safe,” he said after a long-drawn-out moment. “When you go down there, just be careful. Stay on the coral path. Not the sandstone one.”
“Milo,” I started again. But he shook his head.
“I need a minute,” he told me. <<if $miloro == "true">>It hurt. His words hit like a hammer and held so much more to them than what I should perceive. “I just– I’m going to need a minute.”<</if>>
Pulling the cigarette from behind his ear, he perched it between his lips.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“When you say you need a minute do you mean…?” Did he think we had made a mistake? Were we a mistake? Was he suddenly regretting last night in the pale light of this morning?
“I mean that this is a lot, $name, and I need a second to figure out where I stand.”
His fingers twitched in his pocket where I knew he kept a lighter. Shaking his head, he pulled the cigarette from his lips and shoved it back behind his ear.<</if>>
“I’ll look you up when you get back. Good luck with Kamille. Hear she’s tough as nails.”
“Milo,” I protested. He was running from whatever this situation was. Running from the very idea that we were about to head to the Deep. Without turning, he stormed through the apothecary and out the front door. I watched him brush past both Belladonna and Gabriel before disappearing into the market.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]“I can’t explain it but yes. I believe it. I believe that this place could call him home.” There were things within the Night Market that were unexplainable. The magic. The Barons. The Lanterns. The fact that I even existed. All of it was beyond the scope of normal. So why couldn’t this just be one more thing?
“And what? He’s just trapped?” The panic was starting to set in his voice. “Stuck in some in-between state? That’s fucked $name. Even if I did believe it, that is fucked.”
“So are you upset because you think we’re all entertaining something unbelievable? Or are you upset because if it is real, you left him in a liminal state all these years?”
He took a step back. His eyes were wild, an unhinged look milling about his face. I had hit a nerve. I knew I would. But Milo was not talking about it. In any other situation, maybe I wouldn’t have pressed. A dead lover was something that I would expect to be discussed over time. <<if $miloro == "true">> When things had progressed. Not after a night beneath renewed lanterns next to a secret waterfall.<</if>>
But in most situations, I didn’t think it was common for the dead lover to possibly be coming home.
“Milo…”
Milo held his hand up. “Don’t. Just… don’t.”
I swallowed thickly. The pain was there. Raw and ugly.
When his hand dropped, it hit the front of his thigh. The light from the wisps streamed in like multicolored stripes across his face. It made him look older. Different somehow. A man hiding behind a mask that was slowly being shattered.
“Be safe,” he said after a long-drawn-out moment. “When you go down there, just be careful. Stay on the coral path. Not the sandstone one.”
“Milo,” I started again. But he shook his head.
“I need a minute,” he told me. <<if $miloro == "true">>It hurt. His words hit like a hammer and held so much more to them than what I should perceive. “I just– I’m going to need a minute.”<</if>>
Pulling the cigarette from behind his ear, he perched it between his lips.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“When you say you need a minute do you mean…?” Did he think we had made a mistake? Were we a mistake? Was he suddenly regretting last night in the pale light of this morning?
“I mean that this is a lot, $name, and I need a second to figure out where I stand.”
His fingers twitched in his pocket where I knew he kept a lighter. Shaking his head, he pulled the cigarette from his lips and shoved it back behind his ear.<</if>>
“I’ll look you up when you get back. Good luck with Kamille. Hear she’s tough as nails.”
“Milo,” I protested. He was running from whatever this situation was. Running from the very idea that we were about to head to the Deep. Without turning, he stormed through the apothecary and out the front door. I watched him brush past both Belladonna and Gabriel before disappearing into the market.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]The beach was cold and gray, the lanterns nothing but distant stars that swirled in the night sky above. An old dock jutted outwards, dipping downwards and rocking with each black wave that washed ashore. Next to me, Hazel stood, holding the coral in her hand. It was bright and the size of her palm, the peach glittering barnacles twisting and breathing against her tan skin.
“There will be two selkies that guard the entrance,” Gabriel was explaining. “Show them this coral, and they should allow you to pass. Do not go into the water with them. Do not, by any circumstances, let them at your back.”
“Why?” I asked. The trip here had been mostly silent, a foreboding sense of what was to come thick in the air.
Gabriel’s eyes were still cast out to sea. “Because they do not like newcomers down in the Deep. And the two of you are a midnight snack.”
Hazel took a deep breath, tightening the straps of her pack so they fit snuggly against her shoulders. I noticed her skirts lined with loose belts filled with potions. I even had a dagger strapped to my hip. One that Gabriel had given me with Belladonna’s explicit instructions to stab the pointy end into anything that looked as if it were going to eat me.
“When you get to the end of the dock,” Gabriel was saying, “keep walking. It will look as if the path has ended, but there is still a narrow walkway that will take you to the entrance of the cave. Do the two of you have any more questions?”
“Do we just come out the way we came?” I asked.
“Yes. And quickly. I will be waiting right here for you two. The coral should give you more than enough time. Eight hours, if I’m correct.”
“Thank you, Gabriel,” I said. Turning to Hazel, I looked at the wide-eyed gaze that was cast out to the ocean.
[[Are you sure you want to do this?]]
[[I’ll be right by your side]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Take her hand and tell her how proud you are of her]]<</if>>“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked her. I could feel her getting more uncomfortable the further away from the apothecary we got. The usually bright eyes that looked back at me were laced with abject fear now and while I knew she was willing herself to barrel forward, there could possibly come a point in time when she was unable to.
“This is the furthest from home I’ve been in a long while,” she whispered.
It wasn’t that far. Not really. But it was a testament to Hazel’s comfort level. Her courage was only found within the hope that her brother would be waiting for her at the end of this journey. Otherwise, I don’t know if she ever would have left the apothecary today.
“Ms. Albright, there could possibly be another way,” Gabriel said, his words almost swallowed by the ocean. “You do not have–”
“No.” Straightening, she tried to pull together every bit of determination she had. “Eight hours. We will see you in eight hours.” She waited no further. Without so much as a goodbye to Gabriel, Hazel began walking forward.
The two of us set off down the dock. Gray and white barnacles littered the sodden wood boards, bits of sea life scattering with each passing wave. They sloped downwards in a mimicry of rot the further we got out into the ocean and even as we looked behind us, Gabriel’s stalwart presence did nothing to abate the unknown that rocked ahead. When we reached the end of the dock, Hazel and I looked at each other. It was now or never.
Stepping off, our feet met resistance. My stomach fluttered in my throat with the brief drop but despite the water swimming around my ankles, we were walking on something solid. Maneuvering myself in front of Hazel, we walked single file across the water, heading towards a cave that was slowly appearing in the distance. When I glanced back to look at Gabriel again, he was no more. The overcast marina had swallowed him whole.
The wind whipped against us and salt crusted over my lips. My hair grew damp and heavy as the wind and sea spray whipped against my cheeks. There was only one way in to the Deep, according to Gabriel. It was made difficult because Baron Kamille wanted nothing to do with the land walkers. I had briefly asked if we would be killed on sight just for having legs but no one had answered me.
I could see something lurking in the water at either side of us. Two slick creatures, darting under the bridge, edging themselves close and closer with each pass. Each time they breached the water I squinted, trying to see just what exactly they were. But nothing. It was far too dark around here, the only light other than the stars up top, coming from a faint blue glow inside the cave.
“Newcomers,” someone whispered. Behind me, Hazel yelped.
I looked around, hearing a splash, but I did not stop. I kept walking forward, steadying my breath. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching behind me, I grabbed at Hazel’s hand, making sure to keep her near. She squeezed it tightly. If anyone planned to take her from me, they would have to pry her from my grip.<</if>>
“You are not welcome,” another voice said. It was thready and made of salted brine. Something about it set me immediately on edge as it mingled with the roar of the ocean and the dark of the horizon.
Hazel held out the coral, as if to show whatever was lurking in the murky waters below. “We have passage.”
But there was nothing.
No response.
[[Next|Chapter Six 3]]
“I’ll be by your side the entire way,” I assured Hazel. I could feel her getting more uncomfortable the further away from the apothecary we got. The usually bright eyes that looked back at me were laced with abject fear now and while I knew she was willing herself to barrel forward, there could possibly come a point in time when she was unable to.
“This is the furthest from home I’ve been in a long while,” she whispered.
It wasn’t even that far. Not really. But it was a testament to Hazel’s comfort level and I knew that the only thing keeping her moving forward, was the hope that her brother would be found somewhere at the end of it all.
“I know,” I told her. “But I am not going to leave you. And I’ve never been here either. It’s something we can discover together.” I tried to give her an encouraging smile, hoping that it eased some of her worry. I wasn’t sure if it did anything, really. Or if she simply was moving on autopilot now.
“Eight hours,” Gabriel reminded us.
With a nod, we ventured forth.
The two of us set off down the dock. Gray and white barnacles littered the sodden wood boards, bits of sea life scattering with each passing wave. They sloped downwards in a mimicry of rot the further we got out into the ocean and even as we looked behind us, Gabriel’s stalwart presence did nothing to abate the unknown that rocked ahead. When we reached the end of the dock, Hazel and I looked at each other. It was now or never.
Stepping off, our feet met resistance. My stomach fluttered in my throat with the brief drop but despite the water swimming around my ankles, we were walking on something solid. Maneuvering myself in front of Hazel, we walked single file across the water, heading towards a cave that was slowly appearing in the distance. When I glanced back to look at Gabriel again, he was no more. The overcast marina had swallowed him whole.
The wind whipped against us and salt crusted over my lips. My hair grew damp and heavy as the wind and sea spray whipped against my cheeks. There was only one way in to the Deep, according to Gabriel. It was made difficult because Baron Kamille wanted nothing to do with the land walkers. I had briefly asked if we would be killed on sight just for having legs but no one had answered me.
I could see something lurking in the water at either side of us. Two slick creatures, darting under the bridge, edging themselves close and closer with each pass. Each time they breached the water I squinted, trying to see just what exactly they were. But nothing. It was far too dark around here, the only light other than the stars up top, coming from a faint blue glow inside the cave.
“Newcomers,” someone whispered. Behind me, Hazel yelped.
I looked around, hearing a splash, but I did not stop. I kept walking forward, steadying my breath. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching behind me, I grabbed at Hazel’s hand, making sure to keep her near. She squeezed it tightly. If anyone planned to take her from me, they would have to pry her from my grip.<</if>>
“You are not welcome,” another voice said. It was thready and made of salted brine. Something about it set me immediately on edge as it mingled with the roar of the ocean and the dark of the horizon.
Hazel held out the coral, as if to show whatever was lurking in the murky waters below. “We have passage.”
But there was nothing.
No response.
[[Next|Chapter Six 3]]
I stepped close to her, becoming a barrier between her and the ocean. It took a moment for her to realize I was there as her gaze bore into the crashing waves. When she looked up, I could see the red rims of her eyes and the urge to flee.
Taking both her hands in mine, I leaned forward, kissing her lips softly. “I am so proud of you for this.” It went without saying that this was the furthest Hazel had been from the apothecary for a long while. Despite the distance being next to nothing, it was a step she hadn’t been able to take. I felt honored that she was allowing me next to her for the duration of this journey. And I couldn’t feel more impressed with the way she was barreling forward, despite everything in her screaming to please just go.
She gave me a watery smile, squeezing my hands back before resting her head against me for a moment. Gathering her strength, she nodded before pushing herself away.
“Eight hours,” Gabriel reminded us.
We nodded, and together, ventured forth.
The two of us set off down the dock. Gray and white barnacles littered the sodden wood boards, bits of sea life scattering with each passing wave. They sloped downwards in a mimicry of rot the further we got out into the ocean and even as we looked behind us, Gabriel’s stalwart presence did nothing to abate the unknown that rocked ahead. When we reached the end of the dock, Hazel and I looked at each other. It was now or never.
Stepping off, our feet met resistance. My stomach fluttered in my throat with the brief drop but despite the water swimming around my ankles, we were walking on something solid. Maneuvering myself in front of Hazel, we walked single file across the water, heading towards a cave that was slowly appearing in the distance. When I glanced back to look at Gabriel again, he was no more. The overcast marina had swallowed him whole.
The wind whipped against us and salt crusted over my lips. My hair grew damp and heavy as the wind and sea spray whipped against my cheeks. There was only one way in to the Deep, according to Gabriel. It was made difficult because Baron Kamille wanted nothing to do with the land walkers. I had briefly asked if we would be killed on sight just for having legs but no one had answered me.
I could see something lurking in the water at either side of us. Two slick creatures, darting under the bridge, edging themselves close and closer with each pass. Each time they breached the water I squinted, trying to see just what exactly they were. But nothing. It was far too dark around here, the only light other than the stars up top, coming from a faint blue glow inside the cave.
“Newcomers,” someone whispered. Behind me, Hazel yelped.
I looked around, hearing a splash, but I did not stop. I kept walking forward, steadying my breath. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching behind me, I grabbed at Hazel’s hand, making sure to keep her near. She squeezed it tightly. If anyone planned to take her from me, they would have to pry her from my grip.<</if>>
“You are not welcome,” another voice said. It was thready and made of salted brine. Something about it set me immediately on edge as it mingled with the roar of the ocean and the dark of the horizon.
Hazel held out the coral, as if to show whatever was lurking in the murky waters below. “We have passage.”
But there was nothing.
No response.
[[Next|Chapter Six 3]]
Quickly, we made our way across the rest of the water, a few times nearly falling as a large wave came crashing against our knees and soaking our clothes. When our feet hit dry land we both scurried into the cave, wanting to get out of the way of the gale force winds that blew harder and harder the further we traveled.
Two harbor seals stood guard near an open passageway that led downwards. They looked at the two of us with human eyes, set far apart within their soft rounded face. While they made no move to come near us, I didn’t dare step another foot in their direction.
Wet and shivering, Hazel held the coral out. “Passage,” she said between chattering teeth.
Their mouths opened, and two faces peered at us from the depths of their throats. Humanoid, if not slightly gaunt in appearance, and hungry with curiosity. “You have the coral,” one said.
“The coral of the dead.”
“Not of the dead. From the dead. Give it to us.” Their voices were the same thready shiver that we had heard out on the ocean. I didn’t know how they had gotten here without us seeing.
Hazel curled the coral closer to her. “No,” she said firmly. I sidestepped in front of her. Not that I thought I could do anything if these two creatures decided to attack.
Their faces were obscured by teeth that curled into an eerie smile, forming a cage in front of their otherwise humanlike features. Bouncing forward, they forced Hazel and I to tumble back.
“Very good,” they said in tandem. “Game?”
I glanced at Hazel. “You want to play a game?” I asked. They nodded in unison.
[[Sure. We’ll play]]
[[We were told you would let us through if we had this coral]]“Okay,” I agreed slowly. “What kind of game do you want to play?”
They barked at each other, clapping their hands before peeling into fits of giggles. I couldn’t tell if the seal persona’s they wore were a part of themselves or another component to whatever this ‘game’ was that they were playing.
“Riddles,” one suggested. The other shook their head.
“Pearl diving.”
“Monster run.”
“Wave jumping!”
They were giddy. Like two small children with far too sleek of voices.
“Are…” Hazel paused, trying to choose her next words. “Are you lonely?”
The seals nodded.
“No one to play with,” they said in unison. Out here in the desolate seas, it was doubtful they got many visitors.
“What are your names?” Crouching, Hazel got down at their level, still keeping a distance but no longer cowering in fear.
“Bardle,” the bigger one said.
“Ki,” the other parroted.
Hazel smiled softly at them. “Those are lovely names.”
They clapped their hands together, and I could feel their grins stretch across the room. It filled the small cave with more light than before and suddenly, the cool ocean wind didn’t feel as frigid.
Taking Hazel’s lead, I stared at the two of them before crouching down low as well. “Bardle, Ki, I am $name and this is Hazel. We have business down in the Deep and not a lot of time.” I gestured to the coral. “Could we take a rain check on the playtime if we promise to come back?”
Hazel nodded. “I- I could bring tea. And maybe some cookies or cake.”
Bardle and Ki looked at each other. “Tea party!” they both proclaimed.
I couldn’t help the small grin that reached me then. They were nothing more than children, it seemed. Excited to play with others as opposed to guarding a cave individuals seldom came to.
“I promise, if you let us through, we will come back for a tea party,” I told them.
The two of them bounced happily, moving to either side of the cave before bowing their heads. Hazel and I took that as our opportunity and rose from our crouched positions before slowly, making our way through.
As we descended into the cave, I paused, looking back. The heads of the seals were torn back, as if they were nothing more than a cloak, and two small faces peered back at me through the dark, with matching grins. I gave them a small wave, unsure what I had just done, and descended into the Deep.
[[Next|Chapter Six 4]]
<<set $selkies to "true">>I shook my head firmly, standing my ground. “We were assured that if we showed you this coral, we would be allowed passage to the Deep.”
“Lies,” they hissed.
“No. The woman who gave this to us would not have lied. Not about this.” Not with so much at stake and a Baron's favor hanging in the balance. “I’m willing to bet you have to let us through and you two are lying to us.”
They frowned, hanging their heads and shaking it back and forth in a mockery of words. Hazel looked as if she wanted to say something, to agree to their games, but I shook my head. Gabriel’s words still rang through. Do not go into the water with them. Do not turn your backs on them.
“We’re going now,” I said firmly. Keeping Hazel close, I began walking forward, the little pink coral glowing between us. Remarkably, they stepped out of our way.
Quickly, we made our way towards the passage, turning at the last moment to back down the steps. The selkies only stared at us, their eyes cold and lifeless.
“Should have played with us,” one said. “We like newcomers. So much better than the monsters below.”
“Don’t get eaten,” the other whispered.
Grabbing Hazel’s hands, we walked forward and at the last moment, turned, so our backs were never to them. Their smiles became bigger, their human eyes staring back out from the soft faces of the sea creatures.
We took the first three steps down still facing them, before turning and running.
[[Next|Chapter Six 4]]
The passage was not long. When we reached the bottom of it, somehow our clothes were dried, but our hair was still plastered to our skin. I kept looking behind me, expecting to see the selkies, or whatever they were, come sliding down.
“The coral path,” Hazel whispered.
My head whipped back around, and I saw the bioluminescent coral lining a double wide path of cracked shells. The surrounding air was pure and clean, and I could breathe easily, but it looked as if we were surrounded by water. When I reached my hand out, however, I reached into nothing. It was like a mirage, constantly wavering in the distance.
As we began to walk forward, my eyes skittered across what I could see. There were sand paths winding above and below us, crisscrossing against each other through the wavering surroundings. Small abalone huts glinted in the distance while large coral trees spanned up to several stories, silver dollar fish swimming within their confines. My mouth was slightly open in awe, the kelp wavering around us in a mimicry of grass.
“No lanterns,” Hazel said, her head tilted backwards. Looking in her direction, I was surprised to see that the typical lantern light was gone. Instead, large angler fish swam above us, the light from their tentacles flickering like a strobe across the illusion of sky.
“Stay on the coral path,” I told her firmly. The world around us was beautiful but was only a mask for the danger that lurked around us. The sooner we got to our destination, the better we would be.
[[What exactly were those things back there?]]
[[So we are headed to a medium. Who is also a hairdresser?]]
[[The world around us looks dead]]“I don’t suppose you know what that was back there,” I said, as we began walking towards what I hoped was the direction of the city.
“You mean the selkies?” Both of us were keeping our voices hushed. Shadows lurked behind curtains of darkened water. The idea that our voices could attract them was not something either of us were willing to risk. “They are creatures that can pass as both land and sea,” she said. “Humanoid at will by shedding their seal skin.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why would they do that?”
“I don’t think there is really a why to be asked,” she told me. “It’s just what they do.” I stared at her, and maybe it was with the desire to not look behind me where I could hear something slicing through the water, or maybe it was genuine curiosity. Hazel sighed all the same. “You can’t ask why someone is the way they are,” she clarified. “That's like asking you why your skin color is a certain way. Or why your nose is at that angle. It’s not a choice. It just is.”
“I guess I hadn’t really thought of it that way.” Not when it came to creatures that weren’t often seen. An abnormality to my life but a way of life for others. I felt slightly guilty at the context of it. “I’m sorry. That was probably not the greatest thing to say.”
Hazel, at least, didn’t look offended. “I think there are still many things you have to learn. As long as you are learning and willing to change perceptions, there is never anything wrong with that.” She was looking around warily, her feet coming down with light and quick steps. “The Night Market is wonderful. But it is not without its faults. If you haven’t noticed, most of the beings up there appear human. Whether they are or not isn’t what matters. They all give off the persona, however, of being what we would identify as a humanoid creature.”
I thought about that. I had seen beings with tusks and fangs. Horns sprouting from wild manes. I had even seen blue tinged skin or scales running up the sides of an arm. But they all were bipedal. They all walked and spoke in a manner that was familiar. I guess I had just assumed that that was life. That it did not extend to other sentient beings, that to my eyes, may have looked or acted in a foreign way.
“Why is that?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Probably commerce. We are a market first and foremost. If we are a market that scares people, it becomes bad for business.”
“But doesn’t that ostracize perfectly kind and helpful individuals?”
“It does,” she said sadly. “A change needs to happen within the Night Market. I think we are just all so unsure of how to get there.”
[[Next|Chapter Six 5]]
“So this medium,” I started. “I’m assuming she is a medium in the traditional sense where she can talk to the dead?”
Hazel was stepping carefully down the coral path in a direction I think we both silently hoped would bring us to the salon owner's front door. Gabriel and Belladonna’s directions were not very clear before we left, due in part to neither of them having been here before.
“I think so,” she said quietly. The fear was still present in her eyes but now that we were here, she looked to be a bit better. “Mediums are usually people that can commune with the dead in a way that they aren’t often aware of. From what I know, they sometimes talk with the deceased like how you and I are talking now. Not even aware that their conversation partner is behind the veil until much later.”
“How do you know they’re telling the truth?” I asked. “Couldn’t some people just exploit grief?”
She frowned. “Why would they do that?”
Because money and greed were fickle swords that often times left a seeping wound. “I just think sometimes people are cruel,” I told her.
She took that in for a moment, rolling it around in her head. It was clear that our conversation was meant to distract us, more than anything else. Something was slicing through the water around us that had us both on edge. But we kept our eyes forward and our feet moving.
“I don’t think it is something to be concerned about here,” she said after a moment of contemplation. “Mainly because mediums don’t actually ask for money. It’s a gift. They either choose to share it or they don’t.”
“So this woman dyes your hair and on the side contacts loved ones from the beyond?”
A surprising giggle left Hazel. “When you say it like that it sounds insane.”
I agreed. And yet, it somehow made me trust the process all the more.
[[Next|Chapter Six 5]]
“Why does the world around us feel so lifeless?” Maybe lifeless wasn’t an accurate word. Because there was life. A lot of it, in fact. Fish and little bits of seagrass. Green and blue anemones. Bugs that looked as if their sole mission was to clean the rock faces and small crabs that were scuttling to and fro, like ants on a mission. Life was all around us. Just not the kind of life that I thought would be here. I saw no one walking the roads. Nor did I see faces peek out from what I assumed were small structures made to be homes or shops.
“I think they’re hiding,” Hazel said. “I know the Deep isn’t a place that is desirable to live, aside from the palace, but there should be at least some life here.”
Or from whatever was lurking in the surrounding water. We could both hear it. The way something big and just out of our line of sight moved. It was unclear if the creature had seen us yet or even cared about our existence.
“And the Baron here doesn’t allow people to come down?”
Hazel nodded. “Monsters live here. Things that conduct their day far differently than the people up top. It doesn’t always mean they are bad but, they can be misunderstood. Or they can be quick to temper. I’ve heard both. It’s just safer to keep them all here, according to the Velvet Guard.”
Silvery wisps lingered at the corner of my vision, meandering through the mirage of water at a slow gait. “What about spirits?” I asked.
Hazel swallowed. “I’ve heard rumors they can roam freely down here.”
Whether that was good or bad, I was unable to tell from the tone of her voice.
[[Next|Chapter Six 5]]
We continued to wander. There was such an eerie silence that inhabited the main path going into the Deep. I felt as if we were being watched and kept expecting to see more selkies staring at us with wet human eyes. But instead, I saw little creatures flitting back into their homes while large masses moved within the shadows below. As my eyes adjusted, I still couldn’t see what was lurking beneath us, but I could see the bubbles that popped in the sandy paths. I had no doubt that something was waiting to snatch us, pull us down in case we ever stepped off the path.
A large castle loomed in the distance, jutting upwards with coral-colored spires, surrounded by a resplendent reef. I could see figures coming and going throughout the windows of the palace itself and I knew that that was where the Baron had to live. It was so far off though, that I now understood why Belladonna held no expectation of me seeing the woman tonight. There was no way I would be able to make it there and back in eight hours. This Anemone Feri was the closest I would get.
As the roads became wider and signs of life began to filter in, so did sound. The chattering of crabs as they climbed rock walls, mining for barnacle encrusted bottles of what looked like wine. Tentacles coming up from the depths to toss large chests of glittering gold to smaller beings that looked like they were made of algae and bone.
“Gabriel said that Anemone’s shop was on the other side of a kelp forest,” Hazel said. “I think that might be it up there.”
There was no discernible town really. Small building-like structures were scattered about on different levels. Bubbles of different colored domes that housed what I assumed was life inside. In the end, it wasn’t too different from the market it reflected up above. Life continued. The lanterns still swung, albeit in a different form. But the market itself was still present. It still felt like part of the world I was getting to know. Just less populated. And far more wary of our presence than we were of theirs.
The kelp forest swayed before us in the watery air. Far above and off to the right was a large tear in the sky, a window into a purple crackling world somewhere far off. I couldn’t help but notice the shifting outline of the tear and the black line that separated it from the world we inhabited.
“Is that a gate?” I asked Hazel. It looked like the ones I had seen.
“The veil is supposed to be thinner here,” she said. “Maybe if a gate opens, they don’t close.”
Below was a swirling pool of blue-green water and as I glanced down, I could see bodies swirling within, as if getting sucked down into a whirlpool before vaporous white forms began filtering up towards the sky. They dissipated after a while, out of my line of sight. But before they did, I swore I saw gaping mouths of distorted faces, peering back at me.
“Come on.” Hazel tugged on my sleeve, pulling me into the depths of the kelp. The tips of which floated above our head, catching the light and sending it skittering down in bubbles of luminescent glitter. It was the only light that marked our way– bits of what now looked like multicolored flame dotted the sand and lit the surrounding coral. It was only with the sight of that coral that I felt I could breathe easy. As long as we did not stray from the coral path, I had to believe that we would be fine.
[[Next|Chapter Six 6]]
An archway sat up ahead. It looked unattached to any kind of structure but the kelp was so thick around it that we had almost missed the thing itself. Sea ivy hung in the entrance like a beaded curtain, swaying languidly back and forth. A small sign was picketed outside, the name scrawled across the weathered wood having washed away over the years. A crab perched on top, clacking its claw at us. Pushing aside the curtain, I peeked my head inside.
“Hello?”
I heard a small shuffle from beyond along with a muffle of fabric. A woman peeked her head around the corner, her pastel green hair hanging like yarn over her shoulder. Olive colored skin peeked out from behind a heavy curtain of bangs, disappearing beneath a white blouse with puffy sleeves. The woman regarded us carefully, her gold eyes shining in the dark as if to help her see better. When she caught sight of us, she gave a little gasp of surprise.
“Oh, you must be Hazel and $name.” She stepped out fully from behind the corner. She was short and dressed in grey leggings that peeked from beneath a flowy white tunic. An apron was tied just below her bust, laden with scissors and combs and small bottles of swirling oil. “Hello. I’ve been expecting you. Though, I admit, I lost track of time. Won’t you come in?”
Her voice was soft and light, having a waifish quality to it. If anyone had told me this was the hairdresser to the land of monsters, I would have laughed at them. As it was, Anemone looked as if she might rival Hazel in hospitality.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked as we mutely followed her. “It was probably a terribly cold journey down here. The seahorses didn’t give you any trouble, did they? They can be a bit pesky when they are hungry.”
I exchanged looks with Hazel, but said nothing.
The two of us followed Anemone through the curtain to a crooked door. It was set against what at first glance was a rock wall, but upon further inspection, looked to be the rusted siding of an old ship. It was made of pitted wood with steel bands wrapping around it, encrusted with barnacles and other bits of sea life. The door in question was nothing more than a pull-down plank that we walked across. Warm light spilled from within, and I found myself not questioning it much further, eager to just get out of the cold.
The inside of the salon was different from the chilled, salt air of the outside Deep. It was set far back inside a cave situated behind the ship's wreckage. Large tunnels surrounded it, allowing passage to much bigger creatures than Hazel and I. Anemone led us through an average-sized door though and into the heart of her salon.
Three antique chairs sat in a row, all upholstered with buttery red leather and studded with patina brass. Ornate, floor-length mirrors stood before each of them, the reflective glass slightly warped and stained with mercury creeping in from each corner. Off to the side, sat shelves full of supplies. Bone fish combs and conch shells were housed next to curved bottles filled with pomade and oils. Part of me wondered if the monsters of the Deep came here for a trim. The thought was so ridiculous, but when I saw the massive clumps of hair and what looked oddly like scales in the corner, I didn’t think it was that far-fetched.
When Anemone took a large silver key from the rings hooked to her belt, she unlocked a small cabinet set back within a nook. I could see dye colors mixed upon the shelves and reached up to touch my own locks.
“Belladonna said that you were not here for my services,” Anemone said. “Or, at least the Salon ones. But my process is a bit different from other mediums. I thought we could have a cup of tea and I could explain it. You could also tell me a bit about your brother. It sometimes helps if I have something to go off of.”
[[Thank you so much for seeing us on such short notice]]
[[How exactly did Belladonna get in contact with you?]]
[[How does a medium become a hairdresser?]]“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” I told her. I didn’t know how long Belladonna had been in contact with this woman for, but I figured it was better to err on the side of caution. Especially if I needed to gain her trust to seek out the Baron.
“When I heard what this pertained to, I of course wanted to make time as soon as possible. I do not want either of you to worry. Ten years is not too long to contact a spirit. I know there are some people who think it is, but I find as long as you are patient and kind to the beyond, they return wonders to you as well.”
“Do you do this often?”
“Contact the spirits?” she asked. Something clanged loudly in the cabinet and I could hear her admonishing something. A small fuzzy ball of yarn rolled from the depths of it and squeaked at her in protest. “For as long as I can remember. Which, is not that long, actually. But I promise you, I am not here to lead you astray. It saddens me that there are market dwellers who will try and trick people in their time of grief.”
Hazel was nodding nervously beside me, wringing her hands in front of her layered skirts. Reaching out, I laid a hand across her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When she looked at me, I saw nothing but the naked trepidation in her eyes. For as quickly as she jumped on the opportunity to come down here, it was clear she may not have been ready for it. Sweat dotted her brows and her normally peachy cheeks were sallow.
“Is there a place we could sit?” I asked the stylist. She had moved to an old, faded tea cart, pouring a steaming brew into seashell cups. When she looked over her shoulder and saw the state Hazel was in she nearly gasped.
“Oh, goodness me. Of course.” Rushing over, she took Hazel’s hand in hers and patted it. “It must have been such an arduous journey. Please, come with me. We will sit somewhere comfortable until the process begins.”
There were several wing backed chairs situated around the corner in an area far cozier than the marbled floors of the salon. Old rugs were layered across the floor here to give the room ample warmth while a large unlit fireplace was the focal point of the room. The fire was unlit but I could see spectral crabs running up and down the chimney length, some of them dropping small gifts in the wicker baskets placed within the stone alcove.
After settling Hazel in a chair, I took the one next to her. Anemone padded back into the main room and scooted the tea cart our way, placing our cups on a small abalone table in front of us.
“Let it cool,” she said. “But I would like for both of you to drink it. It will help open your essence and hopefully draw the spirit we wish to contact here.” Dropping bits of honeycomb into our cups, she stirred them for us with a resin strand of kelp. “It is your brother, yes?”
Hazel nodded. “Yes. Malcolm. He died close to ten years ago now. Maybe a little more. Time is a bit strange, as you well know.”
Anemone nodded sagely at this, her lips turning into a thin frown. “If it isn’t too much, how did he die?”
Hazel glanced at me, clearly not sure how much she should tell this woman.
[[The truth. All of it]]
[[Less is more]]“It wasn’t really clear this morning when Belladonna stopped by with the good news,” I started. “But how did she contact you exactly?” My main question, and the one I was avoiding saying out loud, was if this was someone Belladonna knew, why had she not mentioned her to Hazel before?
“Oh, she requested my services as of late. There was a mishap with her old hairdresser from what she told me and, well, if you have met Belladonna Malady you know she wants only the best.” There was a small wistful look in the woman's gold eyes. One that quickly was erased as a blush spread across her cheeks. “Not that I think I’m the best. Oh, dear. I didn’t mean for that to come off the way it did. I just mean…” she took a deep and steadying breath. “I just met Ms. Malady not too long ago. She has very fickle hair and I offered her an oil to help tame split ends. She wishes to hire me as her full time stylist. When we were discussing the details of the job she mentioned the need for a medium and I just felt very fortunate that I was one.”
Fortune indeed. I wondered if Belladonna had figured it out before needing someone to attend her split ends, or after.
“Either way, I am so happy I will be able to help you,” Anemone was saying.
Hazel was nodding nervously beside me, wringing her hands in front of her layered skirts. Reaching out, I laid a hand across her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When she looked at me, I saw nothing but the naked trepidation in her eyes. For as quickly as she jumped on the opportunity to come down here, it was clear she may not have been ready for it. Sweat dotted her brows and her normally peachy cheeks were sallow.
“Is there a place we could sit?” I asked the stylist. She had moved to an old, faded tea cart, pouring a steaming brew into seashell cups. When she looked over her shoulder and saw the state Hazel was in she nearly gasped.
“Oh, goodness me. Of course.” Rushing over, she took Hazel’s hand in hers and patted it. “It must have been such an arduous journey. Please, come with me. We will sit somewhere comfortable until the process begins.”
There were several wing backed chairs situated around the corner in an area far cozier than the marbled floors of the salon. Old rugs were layered across the floor here to give the room ample warmth while a large unlit fireplace was the focal point of the room. The fire was unlit but I could see spectral crabs running up and down the chimney length, some of them dropping small gifts in the wicker baskets placed within the stone alcove.
After settling Hazel in a chair, I took the one next to her. Anemone padded back into the main room and scooted the tea cart our way, placing our cups on a small abalone table in front of us.
“Let it cool,” she said. “But I would like for both of you to drink it. It will help open your essence and hopefully draw the spirit we wish to contact here.” Dropping bits of honeycomb into our cups, she stirred them for us with a resin strand of kelp. “It is your brother, yes?”
Hazel nodded. “Yes. Malcolm. He died close to ten years ago now. Maybe a little more. Time is a bit strange, as you well know.”
Anemone nodded sagely at this, her lips turning into a thin frown. “If it isn’t too much, how did he die?”
Hazel glanced at me, clearly not sure how much she should tell this woman.
[[The truth. All of it]]
[[Less is more]]“It’s a bit odd, the way your two professions combine,” I said as Anemone continued to rummage through her glass faced cabinets. “How do you marry the two. A medium and a hairdresser, that is.”
“I’m just very passionate about both,” she said. “I can’t necessarily turn the medium part of myself off, as much as I would sometimes like, but I have found that it gives people solace. Making people feel good abut themselves through their hair offers the same type of fulfillment. So, I figured I could combine the two. That, and I find I focus better when doing someone’s hair. All mediums have a sort of niche, something they channel their energy into, mine just happened to be hair, I found.”
Hazel was nodding nervously beside me, wringing her hands in front of her layered skirts. Reaching out, I laid a hand across her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When she looked at me, I saw nothing but the naked trepidation in her eyes. For as quickly as she jumped on the opportunity to come down here, it was clear she may not have been ready for it. Sweat dotted her brows and her normally peachy cheeks were sallow.
“Is there a place we could sit?” I asked the stylist. She had moved to an old, faded tea cart, pouring a steaming brew into seashell cups. When she looked over her shoulder and saw the state Hazel was in she nearly gasped.
“Oh, goodness me. Of course.” Rushing over, she took Hazel’s hand in hers and patted it. “It must have been such an arduous journey. Please, come with me. We will sit somewhere comfortable until the process begins.”
There were several wing backed chairs situated around the corner in an area far cozier than the marbled floors of the salon. Old rugs were layered across the floor here to give the room ample warmth while a large unlit fireplace was the focal point of the room. The fire was unlit but I could see spectral crabs running up and down the chimney length, some of them dropping small gifts in the wicker baskets placed within the stone alcove.
After settling Hazel in a chair, I took the one next to her. Anemone padded back into the main room and scooted the tea cart our way, placing our cups on a small abalone table in front of us.
“Let it cool,” she said. “But I would like for both of you to drink it. It will help open your essence and hopefully draw the spirit we wish to contact here.” Dropping bits of honeycomb into our cups, she stirred them for us with a resin strand of kelp. “It is your brother, yes?”
Hazel nodded. “Yes. Malcolm. He died close to ten years ago now. Maybe a little more. Time is a bit strange, as you well know.”
Anemone nodded sagely at this, her lips turning into a thin frown. “If it isn’t too much, how did he die?”
Hazel glanced at me, clearly not sure how much she should tell this woman.
[[The truth. All of it]]
[[Less is more]]“If she is going to be able to contact him, it is probably best that she knows everything,” I told Hazel. I tried to reassure her that I was not going anywhere. That nothing she said would drive me from this room.
Hazel nodded, taking a deep breath. “He was killed. My brother was the Gatekeeper of this world. I am uncertain for how long or how he got the job but when he died, he was the active Baron. Another Baron, the Baron of the Mists, wished to have his power. They had been actively trying to flush Malcolm out of hiding, so they could strike and take it. Malcolm was on to them though and didn’t take the bait. So the Baron used our friend Milo to get to him. They might have tried to use me at some point, but I have a tendency of never leaving the shop. I think Milo was just easier to get to in the end. And Malcolm did exactly what they expected and revealed himself in order to save Milo. We thought we had everything under control but…” she trailed off, her voice becoming choked.
We sat patiently, waiting for her to gain her composure. In the last ten years, Hazel had never had to relive that night as much as she was being made to do now.
“When he died,” she said softly. “We pushed him through one of the open gates. It was intended for the other Baron but… I thought that if he was shoved through to another world, the Night Market would call him home. But more than that, I just– I couldn’t bear to see my brother become a restless spirit within the shop.” A tear dripped from her eye, running down her wind chapped cheek. “It was one of his greatest fears and I just couldn’t do that to him.”
Anemone handed Hazel the warm mug of tea, encouraging her to drink. “I know of him,” she said softly. “He died before I was reborn down here, but a friend of mine was somewhat close to him. She may have been one of the few ones who did know his true identity.” It was surprising news to say the least. I had just assumed no one had known the identity of the Gatekeeper. That it was forbidden. Then again, during those final days Milo and Hazel had found out. Though, he had not been the Gatekeeper for much longer after that.
“I want you to know,” Anemone continued, “that every time she has spoken of him, it has been with absolute reverence. He was a respected man. Even down here in the Deep.”
Hazel’s smile was wan. “Thank you.”
[[What do you mean by reborn?]]
[[Who is your friend that knew him?]]
[[Will you be able to contact him even though he was pushed from this world?]]“Just say as much as you are comfortable with,” I tried to reassure her. This was already hard enough on Hazel and I doubted the fine details would matter much in the end.
Hazel nodded, picking at the frayed edges of her skirt. “He was killed. Malcolm was the Gatekeeper of our world and another Baron wished to take his power for their own gain. The details of it all are so muzzy now but essentially, in the end, he was out maneuvered. He had to sacrifice himself to save us.”
Anemone handed Hazel the warm mug of tea, encouraging her to drink. “I know of him,” she said softly. “He died before I was reborn down here, but a friend of mine was somewhat close to him. She may have been one of the few ones who did know his true identity.” It was surprising news to say the least. I had just assumed no one had known the identity of the Gatekeeper. That it was forbidden. Then again, during those final days Milo and Hazel had found out. Though, he had not been the Gatekeeper for much longer after that.
“I want you to know,” Anemone continued, “that every time she has spoken of him, it has been with absolute reverence. He was a respected man. Even down here in the Deep.”
Hazel’s smile was wan. “Thank you.”
[[What do you mean by reborn?]]
[[Who is your friend that knew him?]]
[[Will you be able to contact him even though he was pushed from this world?]]“What do you mean by reborn?” I asked. It had been such a passing little comment from her but still struck me as odd.
Anemone sipped at her own tea and bobbed her head as if she had expected this question. “The Night Market. If you belong to it, you will be reborn into its world again.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide, and I saw her sit a little straighter.
“Of course it isn’t necessarily like one would think,” Anemone said softly. “My rebirth came in the form of amnesia. While I know I died, and I suspect it was horribly, I do not remember the details. Instead, I was cast to the well of spirits and one day, woke up upon one of the abalone boats, covered in seaweed and kelp. There are days I still am a bit disoriented.”
“So it’s not like you start from square one?” I could feel hope quell in my own stomach. Was this what happened to me? Had I been a member of the Night Market and had simply died?
“It may be for some,” she responded. “Maybe it is a choice, or maybe it is all just random happenstance. But I do know that if you belong to the Night Market, you simply just go back into the spirit well to churn until you can come back out and join the world again. Though, unfortunately, there is something wrong with the spirit well lately.”
“Is that why Malcolm has not returned?” Hazel asked. “Is it broken?”
“No. Not broken. Just very empty. It’s almost like new spirits are not joining the waters. Which, if spirits cannot join the waters, they become angry. Restless spirits don’t hold onto joy for very long.”
I thought of the alleyway outside of Hazel’s. How there were things lurking in the dark with the intent to harm us. Each time we walked down those sooty streets I could feel their dead gaze on the back of my neck. Feel the way they wished for nothing more than to make us one of their own.
“What happens if a spirit becomes too angry?”
Twisted rings of Anemone’s hair fell in front of her face. The woman looked as if she almost wished to hide behind them. The world was vast, and it offered countless questions, and I was almost certain they were all ones the dead continued to whisper to her after she tucked herself into bed at night.
“I do not know for certain, but I do believe they become the very things that lurk in the Deep.” The things waiting for us if we were to step off the coral path.
“I know Malcolm isn’t like that,” Hazel said. “We pushed him through a door. He wasn’t even in the Night Market.”
“Well then hopefully, the market was able to call him back to the well, and we can contact him.” Anemone did not look concerned over this possibility. I wondered how common it was for someone like her to call the dead home.
“How does all this work?” I asked, eager to get to it. We had less than seven hours now. I didn’t want to waste too much more time.
“Well, it may sound a bit silly, but I’ll have to give you a haircut.” That, was by far not what I was expecting. “I can weave the very essence of your body into the ether and see if we can call home the spirit you call Malcolm. Hazel, with you being his sister, that should very well be enough to get him through. We can then at least figure out why he has not returned. Or if that’s even his intent.”
“What do you mean that might not be his intention?” Hazel asked, eyes whipping upwards in clear panic.
“Not all spirits want to come back,” Anemone said sadly. “Sometimes, they get on the other side and find themselves in a state of rest that they have longed for. It is often times what keeps them from immediate return.”
“No,” Hazel said firmly. “Not Malcolm. He said he would come back. He wouldn’t have left us here by choice. Not for this long.”
Reaching out, Anemone rested her hand over Hazel’s. “I can see in your eyes the love that you have for your brother and I have no doubt he returns your love. Let us not make any conclusions until we have spoken to him. All I ask, is that afterward, you rest. This kind of ritual can take quite a lot from a person. Especially when it is tied up in such intense emotions.”
The blooming coral that was tied to Hazel’s hip still seemed to be doing fine. It had yet to shrink or decay. But we were both still very aware of it and what its absence would mean.
“If we have time,” Hazel said softly. I could tell she wanted to get right to it and part of me wanted to let her, but there was another issue at hand. Baron Kamille. I didn’t know if I should push the subject now and be transparent with Anemone, or if I should wait until after we had spent some more time with her. Then again, post ritual, I didn’t know what state everyone was going to be in. There was a very real possibility that Hazel would need me during that time and I didn’t like the idea of leaving her to sit alone while I asked the salon owner how I was to get in contact with the Baron of this district.
But asking her now, showing our hand so soon, seemed reckless. What did I even have to prove we were worthy of what we were attempting to do?
[[Wait. Play everything close to chest]]
[[Ask her now]]“Who was your friend that knew him?” It had been explained to me several times that the Gatekeeper lived an allusive life. One that was kept to the shadows without the company of anyone who knew the truth of their role. It had never sounded like a way to live. Malcolm had kept it from even his own sister. For protection. I supposed the fewer people who knew, the less likely they were going to be used against someone seeking to steal the power of a Baron.
Anemone shifted in her seat. “I’m afraid I cannot divulge that name,” she said. “However, I can tell you that Malcolm was known well down here. The secrecy of the Gatekeeper was one he was working on dismantling.”
“Malcolm wanted to tell everyone?” Hazel asked. Hope flickered in her eyes, an old pain being lain to rest.
Anemone nodded. “From what I understand, yes. He did. He did not agree with remaining hidden like the previous Gatekeepers. Malcolm believed in joining the Barons together. Having them work as a unified front. Though, I think it was a plight that was far bigger than he expected. I do not think he made much headway past down here before he died.”
“So the Deep is a place he frequented? He was not locked out like the rest of the Night Market?”
“The Deep deals with gateways and tears on a regular basis,” Anemone explained. “Before, the Gatekeeper would sometimes come at night to repair or shut the doors that were stuck. Open them for others for safe harbor. It all depended on the quality of person that currently held that role. Malcolm Albright was very forthcoming in the fact that he could not keep eyes and ears on the Deep at a consistent rate. So he wished to be contacted if he was needed. It did well in gathering trust.”
“What about now?” I asked. “Does the current Gatekeeper do the same?” I still wished to keep the majority of what we were doing under wraps. For now, at least. But there was no harm getting a little more information.
Anemone’s lips twisted into frustration at my question, however. “No. They either did not know that Malcolm had been making efforts such as he was, or perhaps they did not care. Either way, it was a sad day down here when we lost Malcolm Albright.”
Hazel ducked her head in somber remembrance, but I could still see the warmth that filled her. To know her brother was attempting to do something kind, to know that he did not wish to continue contributing to the wall that was stacked against us now, said a lot about his character.
“How does all this work?” I asked, eager to get to it. We had less than seven hours now. I didn’t want to waste too much more time.
“Well, it may sound a bit silly, but I’ll have to give you a haircut.” That, was by far not what I was expecting. “I can weave the very essence of your body into the ether and see if we can call home the spirit you call Malcolm. Hazel, with you being his sister, that should very well be enough to get him through. We can then at least figure out why he has not returned. Or if that’s even his intent.”
“What do you mean that might not be his intention?” Hazel asked, eyes whipping upwards in clear panic.
“Not all spirits want to come back,” Anemone said sadly. “Sometimes, they get on the other side and find themselves in a state of rest that they have longed for. It is often times what keeps them from immediate return.”
“No,” Hazel said firmly. “Not Malcolm. He said he would come back. He wouldn’t have left us here by choice. Not for this long.”
Reaching out, Anemone rested her hand over Hazel’s. “I can see in your eyes the love that you have for your brother and I have no doubt he returns your love. Let us not make any conclusions until we have spoken to him. All I ask, is that afterward, you rest. This kind of ritual can take quite a lot from a person. Especially when it is tied up in such intense emotions.”
The blooming coral that was tied to Hazel’s hip still seemed to be doing fine. It had yet to shrink or decay. But we were both still very aware of it and what its absence would mean.
“If we have time,” Hazel said softly. I could tell she wanted to get right to it and part of me wanted to let her, but there was another issue at hand. Baron Kamille. I didn’t know if I should push the subject now and be transparent with Anemone, or if I should wait until after we had spent some more time with her. Then again, post ritual, I didn’t know what state everyone was going to be in. There was a very real possibility that Hazel would need me during that time and I didn’t like the idea of leaving her to sit alone while I asked the salon owner how I was to get in contact with the Baron of this district.
But asking her now, showing our hand so soon, seemed reckless. What did I even have to prove we were worthy of what we were attempting to do?
[[Wait. Play everything close to chest]]
[[Ask her now]]“Anemone, is it possible to still contact him? He was pushed through a gate. His body and consciousness, as far as we know, are not here.” It was the main point of contention between Milo and Hazel in fact. Milo was certain that there was no hope because they didn’t even know where they had sent him. Hazel was certain that such a thing didn’t matter. That the Night Market could still bring him back.
Anemone looked hesitant as she carefully asked her questions. Her kind persona I was finding quite fitting to someone that had to deal with family members in the height of their grief. “Did he take his final breath before or after you pushed him through the gate?” she asked Hazel.
“Before.” Hazel’s eyes were red rimmed and haunted, no doubt remembering how her brother's chest stilled.
“Then he is here. His body may have left, but his soul remained. If it was the other way around, I am not saying it is impossible, but we have a far better chance if he perished within our realm as opposed to another.”
Relief washed over Hazel as she nodded her head, letting out a deep sigh. Her hands were still shaking in her lap and her lips were bitten with worry, but I could tell that excitement was starting to override the absolute desolation she had been feeling before.
“How does all this work?” I asked, eager to get to it. We had less than seven hours now. I didn’t want to waste too much more time.
“Well, it may sound a bit silly, but I’ll have to give you a haircut.” That, was by far not what I was expecting. “I can weave the very essence of your body into the ether and see if we can call home the spirit you call Malcolm. Hazel, with you being his sister, that should very well be enough to get him through. We can then at least figure out why he has not returned. Or if that’s even his intent.”
“What do you mean that might not be his intention?” Hazel asked, eyes whipping upwards in clear panic.
“Not all spirits want to come back,” Anemone said sadly. “Sometimes, they get on the other side and find themselves in a state of rest that they have longed for. It is often times what keeps them from immediate return.”
“No,” Hazel said firmly. “Not Malcolm. He said he would come back. He wouldn’t have left us here by choice. Not for this long.”
Reaching out, Anemone rested her hand over Hazel’s. “I can see in your eyes the love that you have for your brother and I have no doubt he returns your love. Let us not make any conclusions until we have spoken to him. All I ask, is that afterward, you rest. This kind of ritual can take quite a lot from a person. Especially when it is tied up in such intense emotions.”
The blooming coral that was tied to Hazel’s hip still seemed to be doing fine. It had yet to shrink or decay. But we were both still very aware of it and what its absence would mean.
“If we have time,” Hazel said softly. I could tell she wanted to get right to it and part of me wanted to let her, but there was another issue at hand. Baron Kamille. I didn’t know if I should push the subject now and be transparent with Anemone, or if I should wait until after we had spent some more time with her. Then again, post ritual, I didn’t know what state everyone was going to be in. There was a very real possibility that Hazel would need me during that time and I didn’t like the idea of leaving her to sit alone while I asked the salon owner how I was to get in contact with the Baron of this district.
But asking her now, showing our hand so soon, seemed reckless. What did I even have to prove we were worthy of what we were attempting to do?
[[Wait. Play everything close to chest]]
[[Ask her now]]Brushing her apron, Anemone looked at the two of us. “I will give you both a moment. There are some supplies I need to gather. And you should drink the rest of your tea. When you are ready, please come join me.”
I downed the last of my tea and set it aside. It didn’t taste bad. Especially with the fresh honeycomb. But it did leave an earthy film on the tip of my tongue.
“Are you ready for this?”
Hazel looked at me, her green gold eyes wide. “Yes. No. I want to be?”
“What has you so nervous?”
A laugh escaped her, something tittering and verging on hysterics. “What if it doesn’t work? What if Milo is right? What if Malcolm doesn’t want to come home?” she shook her head. “I never should have left the shop. I should have stayed there. I have a business to run.”
“One day isn’t going to end your business, Hazel,” I said gently. Despite Milo’s assertion that she should just close the shop all together for the day, I had a feeling he was behind that counter now, running it for her. <<if $miloro == "true">> The thought of him sent a sharp pain through my chest. I hadn’t wanted to leave things the way I did. Even if the time he was asking for was needed, it left a hollow pit settling uncomfortably in my belly.<</if>>
“It could!” Hazel shouted, interrupting my thoughts.
Leaning forward, I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “You need to breathe,” I told her. “I know leaving the shop has been hard, but this is the right thing to do. You shouldn’t be left with questions.”<<if $hazelro == "true">> I brushed my fingers through her hair, rubbing my cheek across her own. Burrowing close to me, I could feel her tremble. I wanted nothing more than to take her away from all this and deal with it myself.<</if>>
Clinging to my words, Hazel nodded before stepping away. How much of her anxiety was based on the fear of what she might find once Anemone started her ritual, and how much of it was her agoraphobia kicking in, I couldn’t tell. Either way, I was thankful for the bit of coral, pushing us to act. We didn’t have the luxury of dragging our feet.
“I’m going to be right beside you,” I told her. “Every step of the way.” My eyes ticked down to the coral, looking to it for answers. We were still good.
Reaching out, Hazel grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered. I could hear the barely controlled fear in her voice.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>As she began walking away I knew I couldn’t leave her like that. Hazel never asked for comfort. She never asked for someone to help her. I suddenly couldn’t stand that thought of being slotted into the same column as everyone else.
Reaching out, I tugged her to me, pulling her close to my body and pressing my lips against her own. She let out a surprised squeak. One that melted away as her hands came up to curl against my chest, shuffling her feet forward to seek out comfort and warmth. My fingers cupped the back of her skull, sinking into the tied up locks of her hair. She gasped against me as I pulled her closer, making sure she knew that I wasn’t leaving her. That I was here. That I would be here until the very end. Her hands gripped me, a small whimper escaping her as I nipped at her bottom lip. She pressed her hips forward, breathing me in and parting her lips for more. I happily gave it to her, my hands ghosting down her sides to squeeze her hips and press my thumbs against the curve of her thighs.
Pulling away, she blinked at me, cheeks flushed and lips still parted.
“Oh,” she said softly. “That was nice.”
Grinning, I leaned forward once more, kissing her much more softly. “It was,” I agreed. “Now come on. Let’s go let Anemone prove Milo wrong.”<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Six 8]]
<<set $wait to "true">>“I think we need to be transparent,” I said, before this could go any further. “While we came down here in search of information about her brother, there is another reason we are here. A friend of ours has stated that you are the hairdresser for the Baron of this district. Lady Kamille. It is of the utmost importance that we speak with her.”
Anemone shifted nervously in her seat. She did not look like an unkind woman. In fact, by her actions alone, I suspected that she was generous with both her time and her efforts. But a Baron was a different manner all together.
“I am afraid I cannot help you.”
“But you do know her,” I urged. “We were told…”
“I do,” she said quickly, her eyes flitting about. “But I cannot just go about setting up meetings with the Barons. While she is a face that is known, Kamille is very private. She does not enjoy the company of the land walkers.”
There had been a reason the Deep was cut off from everyone else. That was clear. But I didn’t know how to approach a woman who wanted nothing to do with us. It wasn’t as if I could just walk up to her palace gates. Even if I could, I doubted the coral would give us enough time.
“Please,” I tried again. “The entirety of the market depends on the cooperation of the Barons.”
Anemone’s eyes flicked up to mine. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small.
“I am sure you know of the tears within the market. I saw one just outside the kelp forest. The gates up top keep opening and bringing people through despite having no discernible Gatekeeper. It is taking a toll on the market itself. If this continues, then the market may just rip too far one day.”
Anemone’s eyes filled with tears, her hand coming up to rest across her lips. “What will that mean for the Deep?”
“I don’t know. But it can’t be anything good. We need to speak to the Barons. We need to gain a little bit of their power. It will reveal who the Gatekeeper is. Either the current Gatekeeper doesn’t know what they are doing, and we need to help them. Or we don’t even have a Gatekeeper and in that case, we will have to figure out where to go from there. But the Gatekeeper is the one that can control the doors from opening and the market from tearing further. They are also the one that can probably close the tears in the sky.”
Anemone frowned. “Kamille does not know who the Gatekeeper is. It is assumed the power went with whoever was with Malcolm when he died.”
Hazel shook her head. “A Baron killed him. And since that is strictly forbidden, and she cannot double up on power, we don’t know what happened. We are not asking if Baron Kamille knows anything about the current Gatekeeper. We just need her help to find out who has that power now.”
The line between Anemone’s eyes pulsed as she tapped at her lips, worry clearly written across her features. “I will inform Kamille of this,” she said after a moment. “She is not a cold woman. I am sure that she will agree to giving you some of her power. If it is truly for the best, that is.”
“Talking to her is all we ask,” I said softly.
Anemone stood. “Let us deal with your Malcolm situation, and then I can send word to her. Set up something between the two of you. I am sure she’s going to want proof before giving up any of her power. She is sometimes the only thing keeping the monsters under control and the land walkers from invading our sanctuary.”
There was never any doubt in my mind that this wasn’t going to be easy. That not every Baron was a Chrysanthemum, ready and willing to give up pieces of their power. But, they had to understand. Refusing to help us in the face of their realm's destruction was unimaginable.
Brushing her apron, Anemone looked at the two of us. “I will give you both a moment. There are some supplies I need to gather. And you should drink the rest of your tea. When you are ready, please come join me.”
[[Next|Chapter Six 7]]
<<set $wait to "false">>I downed the last of my tea and set it aside. It didn’t taste bad. Especially with the fresh honeycomb. But it did leave an earthy film on the tip of my tongue.
“Are you ready for this?”
Hazel looked at me, her green gold eyes wide. “Yes. No. I want to be?”
“What has you so nervous?”
A laugh escaped her, something tittering and verging on hysterics. “What if it doesn’t work? What if Milo is right? What if Malcolm doesn’t want to come home?” she shook her head. “I never should have left the shop. I should have stayed there. I have a business to run.”
“One day isn’t going to end your business, Hazel,” I said gently. Despite Milo’s assertion that she should just close the shop all together for the day, I had a feeling he was behind that counter now, running it for her. <<if $miloro == "true">> The thought of him sent a sharp pain through my chest. I hadn’t wanted to leave things the way I did. Even if the time he was asking for was needed, it left a hollow pit settling uncomfortably in my belly.<</if>>
“It could!” Hazel shouted, interrupting my thoughts.
Leaning forward, I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “You need to breathe,” I told her. “I know leaving the shop has been hard, but this is the right thing to do. You shouldn’t be left with questions.”<<if $hazelro == "true">> I brushed my fingers through her hair, rubbing my cheek across her own. Burrowing close to me, I could feel her tremble. I wanted nothing more than to take her away from all this and deal with it myself.<</if>>
Clinging to my words, Hazel nodded before stepping away. How much of her anxiety was based on the fear of what she might find once Anemone started her ritual, and how much of it was her agoraphobia kicking in, I couldn’t tell. Either way, I was thankful for the bit of coral, pushing us to act. We didn’t have the luxury of dragging our feet.
“I’m going to be right beside you,” I told her. “Every step of the way.” My eyes ticked down to the coral, looking to it for answers. We were still good.
Reaching out, Hazel grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” she whispered. I could hear the barely controlled fear in her voice.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>As she began walking away I knew I couldn’t leave her like that. Hazel never asked for comfort. She never asked for someone to help her. I suddenly couldn’t stand that thought of being slotted into the same column as everyone else.
Reaching out, I tugged her to me, pulling her close to my body and pressing my lips against her own. She let out a surprised squeak. One that melted away as her hands came up to curl against my chest, shuffling her feet forward to seek out comfort and warmth. My fingers cupped the back of her skull, sinking into the tied up locks of her hair. She gasped against me as I pulled her closer, making sure she knew that I wasn’t leaving her. That I was here. That I would be here until the very end. Her hands gripped me, a small whimper escaping her as I nipped at her bottom lip. She pressed her hips forward, breathing me in and parting her lips for more. I happily gave it to her, my hands ghosting down her sides to squeeze her hips and press my thumbs against the curve of her thighs.
Pulling away, she blinked at me, cheeks flushed and lips still parted.
“Oh,” she said softly. “That was nice.”
Grinning, I leaned forward once more, kissing her much more softly. “It was,” I agreed. “Now come on. Let’s go let Anemone prove Milo wrong.”<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Six 8]]
Anemone was standing at one of the chairs when we came out. She had a tray of different oils next to her along with a bristled comb and several long picks that looked as if they were made from bone. Without question, Hazel sat down in the chair, unwrapping the scarf from around her head and letting her hair loose. Shaking it out, it caught the light, the small honeyed highlights shimmering against her dark curls. Anemone turned her towards the mirror, their backs now to me.
“You have such lovely hair. May I touch it?”
Hazel nodded, locking eyes with Anemone through the mirror. “So you’ll be cutting my hair to contact him?”
Anemone hummed. “A trim only. I can give you a small treatment if you would like. A deep conditioning. And of course a scalp massage.” There were two small rises on either side of the mirror that Anemone had lit waxy candles upon. Incense burned from behind them, curls of slender smoke spreading throughout the room. The salon was still bright and welcoming but the ambiance of the deep black and silver flame seemed out of place. Sinking her fingers into Hazel’s hair, Anemone got a feel for what she was working with, pulling out strangely shaped scissors and beginning to go through the locks, snipping only small ends that fluttered down upon the floor. Small spectral crabs scuttled out from under the vanity to collect them.
I could see Hazel close her eyes, breathing deeply, and I matched her breaths, hoping to provide comfort from where I stood in the back of the shop. I stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt or distract from whatever was being done. I expected the lights to dim or maybe the floor to shake. Anything to happen, really. A sign that we were successful or on the way to success.
But there was nothing.
Even Anemone had a frown on her lips the more she continued, massaging Hazel’s scalp and coating her hair in different oils. I could hear her hum something under her breath as she threaded her fingers in and out of Hazel’s hair. Hazel sat patiently, trusting the process that seemed to be going nowhere. My eyes ticked to the candles, but their flame continued to be steady. The incense continued to burn down to the quick.
As the moments ticked by and the silence became overwhelming, I could feel our collective breaths starting to falter into frustration. The salon was so quiet that a pin could be dropped, and it would boom throughout the room in a thunderous bang. But instead, all I could hear was a few frustrated words from Anemone’s throat.
When she pulled away from Hazel, her eyes were damp. Hazel’s eyes flickered open in hesitation as she looked around. When she didn’t see Malcolm, the hope in her eyes quickly fell.
“I’m so sorry,” Anemone whispered. “I don’t feel him.”
“What does that mean?” Hazel asked in a small voice.
Anemone’s mouth opened and closed as she searched for the words. When she shook her head wearily, I realized that not even the medium had an answer for why he was not here.
[[Does this mean he is already returned?]]
[[Could we try again?]]
[[Is it because he was pushed through a gate?]]I tried to see the silver lining. We had come all the way down here and to return with nothing was not an option I was willing to entertain. At the very least, for Hazel’s sake.
“Is there a possibility that he has already returned?” Maybe he had amnesia like me. Or perhaps he was hiding. Maybe it was too dangerous for him to return. Something would have had to be stopping him but if he had returned, if we could confirm it, there was at least a direction to go.
But Anemone had no definitive answers. She couldn’t give me a yes or no or even a theory. She just stared at the two of us with such abject sorrow over her failure.
The tears that sprung to Hazel’s eyes were devastating. “Try again,” she said.
Anemone looked at her sadly. “I don’t think…”
“Just try,” Hazel protested.
Anemone looked at me, but her hands were raised as if she were ready and willing to do it again upon our request.
[[Try again]]
[[Go comfort Hazel]]I tried to see the silver lining. We had come all the way down here and to return with nothing was not an option I was willing to entertain. At the very least, for Hazel’s sake.
“We could try again, right? Maybe something went wrong? A missed word or something.”
Anemone shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that. If the spirit is not here then…” she trailed off in frustration. “And you two share a parent?” she asked Hazel.
“A mother,” Hazel confirmed.
“I don’t understand. Normally, if I can’t contact a spirit it is due to lack of connection but with the way you speak of him he seems very connected to you.”
“I think we should try again.” I could see tears filling Hazel’s eyes as I stared at her through the warbled glass.
“I… I don’t know if…”
“Just try,” Hazel demanded. Her body was tense, her fingers clutching the sides of the chair.
Anemone looked at me, but her hands were raised as if she were ready and willing to do it again upon our request.
[[Try again]]
[[Go comfort Hazel]]I tried to see the silver lining. We had come all the way down here and to return with nothing was not an option I was willing to entertain. At the very least, for Hazel’s sake.
“Could it be that he wasn’t dead when he was pushed through the gate? Or because his body is there, we just can’t get to him?” I was searching for anything that would explain why he was not showing himself to his sister. With each word I could see Hazel beginning to shake. Why wasn’t he here?
Anemone turned to me. “I truly don’t know. I thought I could find him. I can always find someone. They sometimes don't want to talk but… I didn’t feel him at all.”
The tears that sprung to Hazel’s eyes were devastating. “Try again,” she said.
Anemone looked at her sadly. “I don’t think…”
“Just try,” Hazel protested.
Anemone looked at me, but her hands were raised as if she were ready and willing to do it again upon our request.
[[Try again]]
[[Go comfort Hazel]]“I need you to try again,” I told Anemone firmly. Behind me, the candles flickered.
“I can certainly try, but I don’t think it will render any different results.” Despite her words, Anemone was walking over to Hazel, intent to continue. She picked up a small gold jar, scooping out a large clump of waxy gel before rubbing it into her palms. “Perhaps he is simply just far. Maybe he needed a few moments to get here.” She did not sound confident, but I appreciated the effort all the same.
Walking back up to Hazel, Anemone stared at her through the mirror, taking deep and calming breaths. Her fingers played with the ends of Hazel’s curls, twining them around her fingers. “I need you to focus,” she told Hazel. “I need you to really think about your brother. What he means to you. All the things that made him him. I need him to have a reason to come back here and despite you saying he promised, I need you to give him something more. He needs something to latch onto.”
Gently, Hazel closed her eyes, her lashes fluttering against the tops of her freckled cheeks. I could see pain flicker across her face but it was one that bled into a smile. Whatever she was thinking about, was a good memory. Something fond she could latch onto and cast into the ether to try and pull Malcolm forward.
Once more, Anemone’s fingers sunk into Hazel’s chocolate hair, her movements and posture loose and almost puppet like. In front of us, the candles began to flicker wildly, smoke beginning to swirl into hot puffs towards the ceiling. I nearly stepped forward with an exclamation that I thought it was working, but stopped myself at the last moment.
Anemone’s eyes rolled in the back of her head, the whites showing through the mirror and fogging over with a silver mist. The display of bone combs rattled across against the shelves and beneath me, a tremor ran through the floor. Neither of the women before me spoke. Anemone’s hands worked through Hazel’s hair almost manically, pulling tendrils of something from her scalp and sucking them into the tips of her fingers. There was something different about her face though. A firmer set to her jaw and a slight darkening of her skin. The way she stood shifted as her stance widened, and her fingers became more hesitant.
“Malcolm?” I asked, uncertain. Hazel’s eyes snapped open at that, looking into the mirror.
Anemone’s head cocked to the side, but it was clear that whoever was staring back at Hazel, and I was not her. “Malcolm.” The name was repeated. “I don’t know.” The voice was deeper but not by much. Yet it sounded so incredibly different compared to the soft hesitancy that marked Anemone’s tone.
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>I thought back to the man I had seen through the tear. I thought about how he also didn’t know who he was. Amnesia, according to Anemone. I turned my gaze towards Hazel, watching as the tears began slipping from her eyes.
“Whatever you were thinking of, keep a hold of it,” I told her. Before us, I could see something flickering beneath Anemone’s olive skin. The being was struggling to stay in our presence. Aware of what I was looking at, Hazel redoubled her efforts to hold onto the memory. The one thing that had brought him forth.
“Do you remember me?” I asked, when they steadied themselves. “Do I look familiar at all?” Wearing Anemone’s face I couldn’t be sure. Even recalling the man I had met was greeted with nothing more than a wavering vision. <<elseif $chapterfour == "ruins">> “You don’t know me,” I said. “But I am here to help. I need you to just trust me for a minute.” I didn’t know if what I was about to tell him he even had the capacity to understand, but I had to try.
“Whatever you were thinking of, keep a hold of it,” I told Hazel. Before us, I could see something flickering beneath Anemone’s olive skin. The being was struggling to stay in our presence. Aware of what I was looking at, Hazel redoubled her efforts to hold onto the memory. The one thing that had brought him forth.<</if>>
“You look… familiar,” they repeated. “Who are you?”
“My name is $name. I was trying to contact someone named Malcolm Albright.” My gaze ticked to Hazel. “Are you… him?”
The person controlling Anemone shook her head. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Everything is fuzzy. Hazy.”
I nodded in what I hoped denoted understanding. “Are you dead?” There were so many questions buzzing around my head, but I knew I needed to take this slow. The air felt like a thin band around us all. So ready to snap and crumble before we could even make an effort.
“No,” they said with a frown. “I don’t think so. But I think maybe I should be?”
My heart skipped. There was such confusion in their voice but if the name at least sounded familiar, it was better than anything we had obtained before.
“Mal?” Hazel’s voice was so soft. So scared that even an uneven breath would break this tenacious hold. The strange eyes fell down entirely to her, dark brown as opposed to the gold of the woman before. “Malcolm,” Hazel continued, a sob caught in her chest. “It’s me. It’s Hazel.”
The candles burst, chunks of wax hitting the floor and ceiling. Anemone slumped forward, over the back of the chair, and began sliding to the floor. Quickly I ran to grab a hold of her. Gripping her by the upper arms, I pulled her to her feet. When she blinked back up at me, it was with her own eyes.
[[Next|Chapter Six 10]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Walking over, I pulled her into my arms, feeling her shudder against me. So different from the moment we had shared before entering this room. I suddenly found myself at a loss of how to comfort her. How to make this better. Milo should have been here for this. He was the one that understood her. Knew what that pain was that was shining through her eyes. I understood, but I couldn’t ever know. Not truly.
Holding her close, I felt her tuck her head against my neck, puffs of ragged breath wetting my skin.
“Hazel, Anemone we might need to take a break. Something isn’t working. There are too many things we don’t know. Maybe if we give it some time Anemone could help us figure this out…” she jerked away from me. <<elseif $miloro == "true">>Walking over, I made to try and make Hazel see reason. Milo should have been here for this. He was the one that understood her. Knew what that pain was that was shining through her eyes. I understood, but I couldn’t ever know. Not truly.
Kneeling beside her, I placed my hands upon hers, squeezing them where they rested against her knees.
“Hazel, Anemone we might need to take a break. Something isn’t working. There are too many things we don’t know. Maybe if we give it some time Anemone could help us figure this out…” she jerked away from me. <<elseif $relationship == "false">>Walking over, I made to try and make Hazel see reason. Milo should have been here for this. He was the one that understood her. Knew what that pain was that was shining through her eyes. I understood, but I couldn’t ever know. Not truly.
Kneeling beside her, I placed my hands upon hers, squeezing them where they rested against her knees.
“Hazel, Anemone we might need to take a break. Something isn’t working. There are too many things we don’t know. Maybe if we give it some time Anemone could help us figure this out…” she jerked away from me. <</if>>
“No, you don’t know him. If Malcolm was alive he would have shown up by now. It’s been too long, $name. Something must have happened. Maybe one of the spells I did went wrong. Trapped him. I– perhaps I just need to get some new components or…” Whipping around, she stared at the other woman, her eyes wide and unhinged. “ Anemone, you must try again.”
“Hazel,” I said gently. I placed a hand against her shoulder, not squeezing. Just reminding her I was there. She continued to stare at Anemone for a long moment, willing the other woman to suddenly be able to change her mind. Or to realize what had gone wrong. When a tear slipped from Anemone’s own eyes, Hazel’s shoulders slumped.
“I… I need a moment,” Hazel said softly. My hand slipped from her as she moved away. “Anemone, do you have some place I could go clean up.” The tears were tracking down her face, soaking the collar of her shirt.
“Of course,” Anemones stepped aside, pointing down a short hall and to a door to the left. “There’s a washroom just through there.”
Hazel didn’t look back as she walked away. As the door clicked softly behind her as she slipped from view, we could both hear the soft expulsion of grief from the other side. Anemone looked at me, her hands wringing together in obvious distress.
“I am so sorry. I really wish I could be of more help. I don’t know why he didn’t come forward. If he is truly dead, then I should have at least felt him.”
I sighed. “Maybe he’s not truly dead.” I hated to think of the man wandering the world. Not with everything going on. But it may have been time we entertained the possibility that that was exactly what was happening. “Rebirth. The Night Market calling him home. Hell, even my own form of amnesia. They’re all things that could have happened to him as well.” And if he was still the Gatekeeper, then we had another problem entirely on our hands. Because that meant that he didn’t even know what he was doing.
Slumping down into Hazel’s vacated chair I put my head in my hands. I had hoped for more for Hazel. I wanted her to be able to contact her brother. At the very least, to get closure. But this just seemed to open an old wound and continue to provide a space for it to fester.
“Do you want me to do anything to your hair while you're here?” Anemone asked. “It would be free of charge, of course and, I don’t know, maybe there’s someone you would like me to contact?”
[[No. I don’t want anything done]]
[[Sure, a little spa treatment sounded good]]
[[(sarcasm) Could you contact my old life?]]“Anemone?” I asked, trying to support the brunt of her body weight. She was boneless and sliding towards the floor. “Anemone, are you alright?” Hazel scrambled off the chair, kneeling by the two of us.
“$name, it was him. I know it was him.”
I could hear the elation in her voice but in my arms, Anemone felt lifeless. “Anemone?” I tried again. When she opened her eyes and fully focused on me, it was with a bit of relief. “What happened? Are you alright?”
The stylist blinked, almost as if her mind was trying to catch up. Remember who I even was. “Someone came through,” she said numbly.
“It was him,” Hazel said, wiping away her tears. “I know it was.”
“It was a powerful force,” Anemone said with a nod. I noticed that she did not confirm or deny Hazel’s words. “I have never felt such power. So much anger and fear and some resentment. An angry spirit indeed.” She blinked as Hazel rushed to get her some ice water, holding it to her lips. “Was your Malcolm an angry man?”
Hazel nodded. “Very much so. He learned to control it but, he was always angry.” Grasping Anemone’s hands, she pulled the woman close. “Do you think you could do it again? Contact him?”
Anemone shook her head. “Perhaps, but not now. I feel my power seeping from me. It was like he was taking it. The longer he had control the more he kept pulling it towards him.” she shuddered. “I don't think I would want to do it again without safeguarding myself.”
Hazel looked like she was about to protest, but I shook my head. Anemone couldn’t stand. The way her eyes were drooping I was afraid of her passing out. I didn’t quite know what had happened, but it wasn’t good. Not by any means.
<<if $wait == "true">> “That being said,” Anemone winced, trying to sit up a little straighter. “You did just win your way into the Baron’s palace.” She leveled her gaze on me specifically. “I do appreciate the way you put your true motive aside to help your friend and I do even believe your actions are genuine. But I have heard a lot about Belladonna Malady and did some digging. You need to contact Kamille, don’t you.”
I swallowed. “I do. But it is for a good reason. The world is being torn. We need the Baron’s help or else we may not have a world to live in much longer.”
Fear entered Anemone’s eyes, but she asked no further questions about it. It was clear, however, that she would not be an obstacle in our quest. “I was supposed to deliver the spectral tea to Lady Kamille. Her guards have to ingest it nightly in order to see what is crawling from the spirit well. But I do not think I am going to be able to make it.” <<elseif $wait == "false">>“That being said,” Anemone winced, trying to sit up a little straighter. “You did just win your way into the Baron's palace.” She gave me a significant look. “I was supposed to deliver the spectral tea to Lady Kamille. Her guards have to ingest it nightly in order to see what is crawling from the spirit well. But I do not think I am going to be able to make it.”<</if>>
“$name,” Hazel said. “I don’t know how much longer we have on the coral.”
I eyed it. But this was a meeting with the Baron. We had to take it, right? We couldn’t let the opportunity pass. That, and Anemone was hurt. It didn’t seem right leaving her down here. But the likelihood of me getting there and back in the allotted time we had left was impossible.
“You should be safe within this shop,” Anemone continued. “If you can make it back here before the coral dies, I’ll be able to get you safe passage out.”
I nodded, not asking the obvious question. What would happen if I could not make it back? “I better get going then.”
“$name, can I talk to you for a moment?” Hazel stood, gesturing for me to follow her to the little sitting room we had started in. Both of us could still see Anemone and keep an eye on her. “I don’t think you should go,” Hazel said urgently. “If that coral dies and you are stuck out there–”
“I’ll walk straight out like Gabriel told us to,” I tried to affirm. We had contacted Malcolm. Or at least I think we had. That was what we should have been talking about. Celebrating. But there was no time. “Hazel, we can’t let this opportunity go. If we can get this Baron's favor, then that is three in less than three days. That is amazing progress.”
Hazel looked hesitant, clearly not wanting to let me go.
“Anemone needs someone to watch them,” I whispered. “You can stay here and do that, and I’ll run to the castle and back. Hopefully with what we need.”
“It’s dangerous out there.”
“A danger you were all too willing to take on yourself when it was about Malcolm,” I pointed out.
Hazel looked back into the salon. The candles were in chunks all over the room. The smoke had dissipated and the room itself felt cold. “Do you think it was him?”
[[Yes. I think it was]]
[[I’m hopeful but I don’t know if we can be sure]]
[[I really don’t know]]“No,” I answered her, slumping in the chair that Hazel had vacated. I placed my head in my hands. It was amazing how quickly hope was dashed. Before we had come into this room we had been excited, both Hazel and I. I believed that Anemone could do this. I thought this would end with happier tears than the ones being shed in the bathroom down the hall.
Behind me, Anemone stared at me through the mirror. I could feel her eyes on the back of my head and the way she vibrated with the urge to be able to do something for us. Anything really.
“Let me try again,” she said softly.
I took a moment to breathe, feeling a war tug within me. I didn’t know if I wanted to put Hazel through it again, to be honest.
“On you,” Anemone continued, her voice low, so Hazel could not hear.
I frowned, looking up at her. “On me? Why would I…”
“I don’t know,” Anemone said. “I don’t. The only thing I can think of is he needed a bit more time. Perhaps he is lingering now. I shouldn’t have stopped when I did. I should have kept going.” I had no idea if Anemone was saying this out of desperation or if she was telling the truth. But I knew I couldn’t walk down the hall and knock on the washroom door to ask Hazel to put her heart on the line again.
Nodding my head, I sat back in the chair.
Anemone’s eyes rolled in the back of her head, the whites showing through the mirror and fogging over with a silver mist. The display of bone combs rattled across against the shelves and beneath me, a tremor ran through the floor.
I blinked, watching Anemone’s hands work within my hair, pulling tendrils of something from my scalp and sucking them into the tips of her fingers. There was something different about her face though. A firmer set to her jaw and a slight darkening of her skin. The way she stood shifted as her stance widened, and her fingers became more hesitant.
“Malcolm?” I asked, uncertain.
Anemone’s head cocked to the side, but it was clear that whoever was staring back at me was not her. “Malcolm.” The name was repeated. “I don’t know.” The voice was deeper but not by much. Yet it sounded so incredibly different compared to the soft hesitancy that marked Anemone’s tone.
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>I thought back to the man I had seen through the gateway tear. I thought about how he also didn’t know who he was. Amnesia, according to Anemone. But it was connected to me. Why me? Because we shared the same shortcomings to our memory?
“Do you remember me?” I asked. “Do I look familiar at all?” Wearing Anemone’s face I couldn’t be sure. Even recalling the man I had met was greeted with nothing more than a wavering vision. <<elseif $chapterfour == "ruins">> “You don’t know me,” I said. “But I am here to help. I need you to just trust me for a minute.” I didn’t know if what I was about to tell him he even had the capacity to understand, but I had to try.<</if>>
“You look… familiar,” they repeated. “Who are you?”
“My name is $name. I was trying to contact someone named Malcolm Albright.” Or, at least that’s what we were doing. I had no idea why Malcolm was showing for me instead of his sister.
The person controlling Anemone shook her head. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Everything is fuzzy. Hazy.”
I nodded in what I hoped denoted understanding. “Are you dead?” I needed to get Hazel out here. If there was going to be any confirmation that this was Malcolm, it would need to come from her.
“No,” they said with a frown. “I don’t think so. But I think maybe I should be?”
My heart skipped. There was such confusion in their voice but if the name at least sounded familiar, it was better than anything we had obtained before. “Do the names Hazel and Milo mean anything to you?”
The candles burst, chunks of wax hitting the floor and ceiling. Behind me, Anemone slumped forward, over the back of the chair, and began sliding to the floor. Quickly I launched from where I was sitting to grab hold of her. Gripping her by the upper arms, I pulled her to her feet. When she blinked back up at me, it was with her own eyes.
[[Next|Chapter Six 9]]
“Sure,” I said numbly. I’m not sure if I was even aware what I was agreeing to, only that I needed to sit down. “Spa treatment sounds good,” I muttered. I felt shaky. I felt such empathy for the woman hiding in the bathroom. But most of all, I felt completely helpless with what I was supposed to do.
Slipping in the chair, I slumped in my seat. All I wanted was to go find Hazel and go back home. I didn’t even care about the Baron at the moment. It was a mistake to come down here. It offered no closure. Only pain.
When Anemone’s fingers slipped into my $haircolor hair, I thought nothing of it. My mind was still cast elsewhere. But before me, I saw the candles. They began flickering wildly, their flames dancing across the edges of the mirror as smoke began to swirl upwards into curled puffs towards the ceiling.
Anemone’s eyes rolled in the back of her head, the whites showing through the mirror and fogging over with a silver mist. The display of bone combs rattled across against the shelves and beneath me, a tremor ran through the floor.
I blinked, watching Anemone’s hands work within my hair, pulling tendrils of something from my scalp and sucking them into the tips of her fingers. There was something different about her face though. A firmer set to her jaw and a slight darkening of her skin. The way she stood shifted as her stance widened, and her fingers became more hesitant.
“Malcolm?” I asked, uncertain.
Anemone’s head cocked to the side, but it was clear that whoever was staring back at me was not her. “Malcolm.” The name was repeated. “I don’t know.” The voice was deeper but not by much. Yet it sounded so incredibly different compared to the soft hesitancy that marked Anemone’s tone.
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>I thought back to the man I had seen through the gateway tear. I thought about how he also didn’t know who he was. Amnesia, according to Anemone. But it was connected to me. Why me? Because we shared the same shortcomings to our memory?
“Do you remember me?” I asked. “Do I look familiar at all?” Wearing Anemone’s face I couldn’t be sure. Even recalling the man I had met was greeted with nothing more than a wavering vision. <<elseif $chapterfour == "ruins">> “You don’t know me,” I said. “But I am here to help. I need you to just trust me for a minute.” I didn’t know if what I was about to tell him he even had the capacity to understand, but I had to try.<</if>>
“You look… familiar,” they repeated. “Who are you?”
“My name is $name. I was trying to contact someone named Malcolm Albright.” Or, at least that’s what we were doing. I had no idea why Malcolm was showing for me instead of his sister.
The person controlling Anemone shook her head. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Everything is fuzzy. Hazy.”
I nodded in what I hoped denoted understanding. “Are you dead?” I needed to get Hazel out here. If there was going to be any confirmation that this was Malcolm, it would need to come from her.
“No,” they said with a frown. “I don’t think so. But I think maybe I should be?”
My heart skipped. There was such confusion in their voice but if the name at least sounded familiar, it was better than anything we had obtained before. “Do the names Hazel and Milo mean anything to you?”
The candles burst, chunks of wax hitting the floor and ceiling. Behind me, Anemone slumped forward, over the back of the chair, and began sliding to the floor. Quickly I launched from where I was sitting to grab hold of her. Gripping her by the upper arms, I pulled her to her feet. When she blinked back up at me, it was with her own eyes.
[[Next|Chapter Six 9]]
“You think you could contact who I used to be?” I joked.
“I could try.”
I flipped my head up to lock eyes with her through the mirror. Anemone had a soft gaze. One that was filled with so much hope for the people that were in her chair and offering nothing but understanding.
Without really answering, I slipped into the chair Hazel had just vacated, sitting up a little straighter, fully expecting that she would have nothing to give me. But when her fingers sunk into $haircolor hair, the candles before me flickered wildly and the smoke began to swirl into curled puffs towards the top of the ceiling.
Anemone’s eyes rolled in the back of her head, the whites showing through the mirror and fogging over with a silver mist. The display of bone combs rattled across against the shelves and beneath me, a tremor ran through the floor.
I blinked, watching Anemone’s hands work within my hair, pulling tendrils of something from my scalp and sucking them into the tips of her fingers. There was something different about her face though. A firmer set to her jaw and a slight darkening of her skin. The way she stood shifted as her stance widened, and her fingers became more hesitant.
“Malcolm?” I asked, uncertain.
Anemone’s head cocked to the side, but it was clear that whoever was staring back at me was not her. “Malcolm.” The name was repeated. “I don’t know.” The voice was deeper but not by much. Yet it sounded so incredibly different compared to the soft hesitancy that marked Anemone’s tone.
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>I thought back to the man I had seen through the gateway tear. I thought about how he also didn’t know who he was. Amnesia, according to Anemone. But it was connected to me. Why me? Because we shared the same shortcomings to our memory?
“Do you remember me?” I asked. “Do I look familiar at all?” Wearing Anemone’s face I couldn’t be sure. Even recalling the man I had met was greeted with nothing more than a wavering vision. <<elseif $chapterfour == "ruins">> “You don’t know me,” I said. “But I am here to help. I need you to just trust me for a minute.” I didn’t know if what I was about to tell him he even had the capacity to understand, but I had to try.<</if>>
“You look… familiar,” they repeated. “Who are you?”
“My name is $name. I was trying to contact someone named Malcolm Albright.” Or, at least that’s what we were doing. I had no idea why Malcolm was showing for me instead of his sister.
The person controlling Anemone shook her head. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Everything is fuzzy. Hazy.”
I nodded in what I hoped denoted understanding. “Are you dead?” I needed to get Hazel out here. If there was going to be any confirmation that this was Malcolm, it would need to come from her.
“No,” they said with a frown. “I don’t think so. But I think maybe I should be?”
My heart skipped. There was such confusion in their voice but if the name at least sounded familiar, it was better than anything we had obtained before. “Do the names Hazel and Milo mean anything to you?”
The candles burst, chunks of wax hitting the floor and ceiling. Behind me, Anemone slumped forward, over the back of the chair, and began sliding to the floor. Quickly I launched from where I was sitting to grab hold of her. Gripping her by the upper arms, I pulled her to her feet. When she blinked back up at me, it was with her own eyes.
[[Next|Chapter Six 9]]
“Anemone?” I asked, trying to support the brunt of her body weight. She was boneless and sliding to the floor. “Anemone, are you alright?” From the back area, Hazel came through, her steps measured, unaware of what just happened. When she saw us on the floor she skidded to a halt.
“What happened?” she asked, helping me get Anemone into one of the chairs.
“I don’t know. She went into some sort of trance I think.”
Hazel’s eyes snapped to mine. “Malcolm?”
“I don’t know. Someone came through. I… I think it was him. When I mentioned yours and Milo’s names though everything cut off.”
“It was a powerful force,” Anemone said. “I have never felt such power. So much anger and fear and some resentment. An angry spirit indeed.” She blinked as Hazel rushed to get her some ice water, holding it to her lips. “Was your Malcolm and angry man?”
Hazel nodded. “Very much so. He learned to control it but, he was always angry.” Grasping Anemone’s hands, she pulled the woman close. “Do you think you could do it again? Contact him?”
Anemone shook her head. “Perhaps, but not now. I feel my power seeping from me. It was like he was taking it. The longer he had control the more he kept pulling it towards him.” she shuddered. “I don't think I would want to do it again without safeguarding myself.”
Hazel looked like she was about to protest, but I shook my head. Anemone couldn’t stand. The way her eyes were drooping I was afraid of her passing out. I didn’t quite know what had happened, but it wasn’t good. Not by any means.
<<if $wait == "true">> “That being said,” Anemone winced, trying to sit up a little straighter. “You did just win your way into the Baron’s palace.” She leveled her gaze on me specifically. “I do appreciate the way you put your true motive aside to help your friend and I do even believe your actions are genuine. But I have heard a lot about Belladonna Malady and did some digging. You need to contact Kamille, don’t you.”
I swallowed. “I do. But it is for a good reason. The world is being torn. We need the Baron’s help or else we may not have a world to live in much longer.”
Fear entered Anemone’s eyes, but she asked no further questions about it. It was clear, however, that she would not be an obstacle in our quest. “I was supposed to deliver the spectral tea to Lady Kamille. Her guards have to ingest it nightly in order to see what is crawling from the spirit well. But I do not think I am going to be able to make it.” <<elseif $wait == "false">>“That being said,” Anemone winced, trying to sit up a little straighter. “You did just win your way into the Baron's palace.” She gave me a significant look. “I was supposed to deliver the spectral tea to Lady Kamille. Her guards have to ingest it nightly in order to see what is crawling from the spirit well. But I do not think I am going to be able to make it.”<</if>>
“$name,” Hazel said. “I don’t know how much longer we have on the coral.”
I eyed it. But this was a meeting with the Baron. We had to take it, right? We couldn’t let the opportunity pass. That, and Anemone was hurt. It didn’t seem right leaving her down here. But the likelihood of me getting there and back in the allotted time we had left was impossible.
“You should be safe within this shop,” Anemone continued. “If you can make it back here before the coral dies, I’ll be able to get you safe passage out.”
I nodded, not asking the obvious question. What would happen if I could not make it back? “I better get going then.”
“$name, can I talk to you for a moment?” Hazel stood, gesturing for me to follow her to the little sitting room we had started in. Both of us could still see Anemone and keep an eye on her. “I don’t think you should go,” Hazel said urgently. “If that coral dies and you are stuck out there–”
“I’ll walk straight out like Gabriel told us to,” I tried to affirm. We had contacted Malcolm. Or at least I think we had. That was what we should have been talking about. Celebrating. But there was no time. “Hazel, we can’t let this opportunity go. If we can get this Baron's favor, then that is three in less than three days. That is amazing progress.”
Hazel looked hesitant, clearly not wanting to let me go.
“Anemone needs someone to watch them,” I whispered. “You can stay here and do that, and I’ll run to the castle and back. Hopefully with what we need.”
“It’s dangerous out there.”
“A danger you were all too willing to take on yourself when it was about Malcolm,” I pointed out.
Hazel looked back into the salon. The candles were in chunks all over the room. The smoke had dissipated and the room itself felt cold. “Do you think it was him?”
[[Yes. I think it was]]
[[I’m hopeful but I don’t know if we can be sure]]
[[I really don’t know]]My face softened. “Yes,” I told her. “I think it was.” There was no doubt in my mind that whoever had come through, was Malcolm Albright. Now we just had to try and figure out where he was and how to get to him.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> Stepping forward, she grabbed my face, pressing my cheeks between her palms. Leaning forward, she placed a firm kiss on my lips. I could taste the salt from the earlier tears. <</if>>
Clearing her throat, Hazel looked up at me with a watery smile. There was so much more that needed to be said, and just not the time to do it.
“Go,” she said. “We have a lot to talk about but now is not the time.”
I wanted to stay. I wanted to make sure Anemone was okay. To make sure Hazel was alright with what had just transpired. I wanted to talk about what our next options were and how to proceed, but we both knew I could not.
So, at her words, I didn’t wait. Hazel handed the coral to me, pressing it into my palm. It had dwindled by a quarter. By my estimation, I had about six hours left to get to the castle, meet the Baron, and beg for their help. I didn’t even want to think about getting back.
With one last look at Hazel, I entered back into the salon where Anemone was sitting, the color returning to her face.
“Stay on the main path,” she told me. “It will lead you straight to the palace gates.” Pointing to a small basket, she gestured for me to take it. “My magic and mark are all over that. If they see it, the guards will let you through. They are a set of coral knights. They are not going to understand you if you try to speak to them, but please treat them with kindness. I am certain there is some sentience there.”
Hazel followed me into the room, going over to Anemone’s side. “$name is one of the kindest people I know. ?they will not let you down.”
There wasn’t anything I could say at that, and I was suddenly all too aware of how precious each moment that passed truly was. Grabbing the basket, I gave them both a quick smile. I could only hope that I wasn’t walking towards my own grave.
[[Next|Chapter Six 11]]
I didn’t want to give her false hope. I had seen what that had done to her and the eagerness that was in her eyes now for me to confirm what she thought was showing with such aching sadness. “I’m hopeful,” I told her. “I don’t know if we can be sure and I think there are still a lot of questions that need answered, but I am hopeful.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> Stepping forward, she grabbed my face, pressing my cheeks between her palms. Leaning forward, she placed a firm kiss on my lips. I could taste the salt from the earlier tears. <</if>>
Clearing her throat, Hazel looked up at me with a watery smile. There was so much more that needed to be said, and just not the time to do it.
“Go,” she said. “We have a lot to talk about but now is not the time.”
I wanted to stay. I wanted to make sure Anemone was okay. To make sure Hazel was alright with what had just transpired. I wanted to talk about what our next options were and how to proceed, but we both knew I could not.
So, at her words, I didn’t wait. Hazel handed the coral to me, pressing it into my palm. It had dwindled by a quarter. By my estimation, I had about six hours left to get to the castle, meet the Baron, and beg for their help. I didn’t even want to think about getting back.
With one last look at Hazel, I entered back into the salon where Anemone was sitting, the color returning to her face.
“Stay on the main path,” she told me. “It will lead you straight to the palace gates.” Pointing to a small basket, she gestured for me to take it. “My magic and mark are all over that. If they see it, the guards will let you through. They are a set of coral knights. They are not going to understand you if you try to speak to them, but please treat them with kindness. I am certain there is some sentience there.”
Hazel followed me into the room, going over to Anemone’s side. “$name is one of the kindest people I know. ?they will not let you down.”
There wasn’t anything I could say at that, and I was suddenly all too aware of how precious each moment that passed truly was. Grabbing the basket, I gave them both a quick smile. I could only hope that I wasn’t walking towards my own grave.
[[Next|Chapter Six 11]]
“Hazel,” I started, feeling my own heartache. “I really don’t know.” I of course wanted to tell her that it was him. That what had just transpired was the start of bringing him back. But it had happened so fast that I was left reeling, unsure of what had even happened.
Her head bent forward as she looked at her feet. “I think it was him,” she said in a small voice. I didn’t have the heart or the desire to even argue with her.
Clearing her throat, Hazel looked up at me with a watery smile. There was so much more that needed to be said, and just not the time to do it.
“Go,” she said. “We have a lot to talk about but now is not the time.”
I wanted to stay. I wanted to make sure Anemone was okay. To make sure Hazel was alright with what had just transpired. I wanted to talk about what our next options were and how to proceed, but we both knew I could not.
So, at her words, I didn’t wait. Hazel handed the coral to me, pressing it into my palm. It had dwindled by a quarter. By my estimation, I had about six hours left to get to the castle, meet the Baron, and beg for their help. I didn’t even want to think about getting back.
With one last look at Hazel, I entered back into the salon where Anemone was sitting, the color returning to her face.
“Stay on the main path,” she told me. “It will lead you straight to the palace gates.” Pointing to a small basket, she gestured for me to take it. “My magic and mark are all over that. If they see it, the guards will let you through. They are a set of coral knights. They are not going to understand you if you try to speak to them, but please treat them with kindness. I am certain there is some sentience there.”
Hazel followed me into the room, going over to Anemone’s side. “$name is one of the kindest people I know. ?they will not let you down.”
There wasn’t anything I could say at that, and I was suddenly all too aware of how precious each moment that passed truly was. Grabbing the basket, I gave them both a quick smile. I could only hope that I wasn’t walking towards my own grave.
[[Next|Chapter Six 11]]
My feet hit the coral path at a run. It was scattered with small shells that looked as if they had washed up on a private beach, the pinks and dark greens of their shells embedded deep into the golden sand. The coral was brighter here, stacked up higher on either side of the path, forming a small bumper and reminder not to leave. The closer I got to the palace, the bigger they grew, becoming monuments that hugged the sand covered road.
A large crunch echoed in the distance drawing my attention. I still could not see anything in the dark, the depths around me nothing but swirling masses. A slitted eye opened, however, staring right at me and I felt my heart nearly stop. As it blinked, I realized that the surrounding darkness wasn’t from the unlit water but instead, from the so-called monsters that existed beyond. They were monolithic and rumbled the ocean floor with their breaths. It made me push myself harder, making my way towards the palace walls and simply praying that it was not as far as it seemed.
The path twisted and dipped down, a ribbon of peaks and valleys that had my heart hammering and my legs aching. The coral was clutched in my hand and I didn’t dare look at it. I just kept pushing. The only thought on my mind being that I couldn’t mess this up.
The palace stretched before me and the closer I got, the more life I began to see. Conch shells were stacked on top of each other to make an arch in front of the palace walls, the likes of which had small fish coming and going from barnacle encrusted pods that hung from the sandstone. They looked as if they were suspended in midair, tiny little pods that had light pouring from within them as families went about their day.
The gates themselves were made from thin strips of sea glass that twisted into intricate bars, blocking my entrance. Like Anemone had said, though, two coral guards loomed outside them, standing at least three stories tall. I stopped in front of them.
[[I have a delivery]]
[[Hold up the basket, so they can see Anemone’s mark]]
[[Hello. I hope you two are having a good day]]
<<set $deepbaron to "true">>“I have a delivery to make,” I told them, unsure if they could even hear me or if I was talking to statues. When they moved their heads, I jumped back, the scrape of coral armor echoing all around me as bits of their shells fell to the floor. Tall, ornate glaives were clutched in their rigid hands. With their free arms, they lifted it, pointing towards the gate which swung open with their gesture.
I blinked at them, trying to nod my thanks as I walked on through. The basket was clutched to my chest but upon breaching the gates, I noticed it glow faintly, a small sigil woven into the thick wicker.
The palace was massive. From a distance, it had been a series of spires that had jutted into the oceanic air, filled with windows allowing different type of sea folk to swim in and out. Now that I was on the other side of the gates, however, I could see just how truly large and populated it was.
The gates had contained an entire city. Coral paths wove through sea caves and up and around small grottoes of purple water. Jellyfish lazily hovered throughout, their tendrils carrying small baskets of goods to and from different structures. I could see fish swimming within the large patches of kelp, what looked like merfolk selling their wares across beautiful netted blankets, and up ahead, the glittering spires of a grand castle looked back at me, inviting and warm.
No one paid me any mind as I headed towards it. Even with me being a land walker, they did not look at me in suspicion. Part of me wondered if that was all false to begin with, seeing as Anemone was bipedal, and they seemed to accept her just fine. Was it all a ruse to keep us from up top from even coming down here? Or was there something so much more?
I reached the palace doors without encountering a single person destined to stop me. The doors were wide open, propped to the side for the day. Inside, was much of the same, although this time inhabiting ramps that slid around the room in a spiral direction, along with tornado pools that individuals were using to quickly get to other floors. I stared at it all in awe. It was resplendent in both color and grandeur and was such a stark difference to the often-times dirty cobblestone streets that lined the land above.
“Can I help ya?” A portly little fish with wide eyes of glittering cerulean glass, stared at me, swimming just near my head. I held up the basket to show him, not even able to get a word out before he was bobbing up and down in the watery air. “Ms. Feri’s wares,” he said excitedly. “Head up that ramp and to the second door. Ms. Kamille will be wanting to look at them first.”
Just like that, I had access to a Baron.
[[I can just walk in?]]
[[Oh, thank you very much]]Holding up the basket from Anemone, I stared at them, feeling my voice stuck in my throat. I hoped it would be enough or that they would even be able to see what I was showing them. The slits in their helmets meant for their eyes had thick strands of seaweed bleeding from its depths.
The basket glowed, however. A faint mark that was woven within the wicker itself shone briefly and the gates opened before me without me having to do much of anything. I didn’t wait around to see if that would change or if there was anyone waiting to ask about my reasons for visiting the Deep. I darted through, clutching the basket to my chest.
The palace was massive. From a distance, it had been a series of spires that had jutted into the oceanic air, filled with windows allowing different type of sea folk to swim in and out. Now that I was on the other side of the gates, however, I could see just how truly large and populated it was.
The gates had contained an entire city. Coral paths wove through sea caves and up and around small grottoes of purple water. Jellyfish lazily hovered throughout, their tendrils carrying small baskets of goods to and from different structures. I could see fish swimming within the large patches of kelp, what looked like merfolk selling their wares across beautiful netted blankets, and up ahead, the glittering spires of a grand castle looked back at me, inviting and warm.
No one paid me any mind as I headed towards it. Even with me being a land walker, they did not look at me in suspicion. Part of me wondered if that was all false to begin with, seeing as Anemone was bipedal, and they seemed to accept her just fine. Was it all a ruse to keep us from up top from even coming down here? Or was there something so much more?
I reached the palace doors without encountering a single person destined to stop me. The doors were wide open, propped to the side for the day. Inside, was much of the same, although this time inhabiting ramps that slid around the room in a spiral direction, along with tornado pools that individuals were using to quickly get to other floors. I stared at it all in awe. It was resplendent in both color and grandeur and was such a stark difference to the often-times dirty cobblestone streets that lined the land above.
“Can I help ya?” A portly little fish with wide eyes of glittering cerulean glass, stared at me, swimming just near my head. I held up the basket to show him, not even able to get a word out before he was bobbing up and down in the watery air. “Ms. Feri’s wares,” he said excitedly. “Head up that ramp and to the second door. Ms. Kamille will be wanting to look at them first.”
Just like that, I had access to a Baron.
[[I can just walk in?]]
[[Oh, thank you very much]]I remembered what Anemone had said. Treat them with kindness because there may have been sentience within their armored interior. Smiling up at them, I tried to make myself look as cordial as possible.
“Hello,” I called upwards. “I hope you two are having a good day.” Their armored heads turned to me with a grating roll of their shoulders. They moved in tandem, one not being able to do something without the other. Bits of tumbled coral fell from them in large chunks, becoming gravel at their feet.
“I have a delivery,” I told them, holding up the basket. I saw a mark begin to glow within the wicker and almost at the same time, the gates to the palace began to open with surprising ease. I smiled at the coral knights, nodding my thanks at them. “Thank you so much. I hope you two have a great day,” I called, before slipping through the gates, the basket still in my grasp.
The palace was massive. From a distance, it had been a series of spires that had jutted into the oceanic air, filled with windows allowing different type of sea folk to swim in and out. Now that I was on the other side of the gates, however, I could see just how truly large and populated it was.
The gates had contained an entire city. Coral paths wove through sea caves and up and around small grottoes of purple water. Jellyfish lazily hovered throughout, their tendrils carrying small baskets of goods to and from different structures. I could see fish swimming within the large patches of kelp, what looked like merfolk selling their wares across beautiful netted blankets, and up ahead, the glittering spires of a grand castle looked back at me, inviting and warm.
No one paid me any mind as I headed towards it. Even with me being a land walker, they did not look at me in suspicion. Part of me wondered if that was all false to begin with, seeing as Anemone was bipedal, and they seemed to accept her just fine. Was it all a ruse to keep us from up top from even coming down here? Or was there something so much more?
I reached the palace doors without encountering a single person destined to stop me. The doors were wide open, propped to the side for the day. Inside, was much of the same, although this time inhabiting ramps that slid around the room in a spiral direction, along with tornado pools that individuals were using to quickly get to other floors. I stared at it all in awe. It was resplendent in both color and grandeur and was such a stark difference to the often-times dirty cobblestone streets that lined the land above.
“Can I help ya?” A portly little fish with wide eyes of glittering cerulean glass, stared at me, swimming just near my head. I held up the basket to show him, not even able to get a word out before he was bobbing up and down in the watery air. “Ms. Feri’s wares,” he said excitedly. “Head up that ramp and to the second door. Ms. Kamille will be wanting to look at them first.”
Just like that, I had access to a Baron.
[[I can just walk in?]]
[[Oh, thank you very much]]“I can just walk in?” Did everyone have access to the Baron so easily? Or was she not even known as a Baron. Perhaps it was a secret guarded much like the Gatekeepers.
“Oh yes, Baron Kamille has been expecting this shipment.” The fish winced. “Ouch. Sorry. Lady Kamille. I keep forgetting she hates that Baron title and has asked her court not to refer to her as that. Still slip up sometimes, ya know?” He was laughing, little bubbles escaping his lips. “Anyway, just head on up there. I think Ms. Feri sent a crab a bit ago saying that you’d be stopping by. Don’t think it’ll be much of a surprise.”
“Oh, thank you,” I mumbled, a little overwhelmed and a little impressed with how differently this area of the market was when compared to the way Gabriel had spoken.
Setting foot on the ramp, I looked down. It was made of opaque glass that had rivers running beneath it, with small little sand dollars tumbling just beneath my feet. As I walked up towards the tier that the fish had indicated, I couldn’t help but continue to look around. The palace was bright despite there being no lanterns, and was filled with such a beautiful note of song. I could see a group sitting up on a hanging grotto above, their tails flicking over the side of the pool they were perched on. They were all singing as their hands wove through the air and small iridescent bubbles emerged from all around, filling the ceiling above.
When I reached the second door I noticed it was different from the others. It was lined in the brightest gold I had ever seen, inlaid with pearl. Pressing my hand against the handle, I felt water shift over me before the door opened, and a throne room was revealed. Much like the rest of the palace, it was decked out in the coral and shells, the likes of which wove together to make most of the structure. The floor was shifting water and several small holes were scattered about where crabs and other small creatures could make their way through, with their deliveries. And at the end of the room, upon a large conch throne, was who I could only assume was Lady Kamille.
She sat, waiting for me. Her ebony skin was covered in a fine shimmer of galactic scales of aquamarine and her coiled hair floated around her, hovering damply as it cut across her gold eyes and lips.
“You are certainly not Anemone,” she spoke. Her voice deep and sultry, like a wind blown storm caked in salt. It sent a shiver across my spine and there was no doubt in my mind that she was the Baron. The power that pulsed from her alone was enough of a hint, along with the fact that I could see one very large, oyster shell signet ring, on her right hand. “You have ten seconds to state your name and why you are here.”
[[Answer in fear and trepidation]]
[[Answer quickly and efficiently]]
[[Answer lighthearted if not cocky]]“Thank you very much,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to give the fish the opportunity to realize that I was not the one that was supposed to make the delivery. The state of my little coral was also weighing heavily on my thoughts.
Setting foot on the ramp, I looked down. It was made of opaque glass that had rivers running beneath it, with small little sand dollars tumbling just beneath my feet. As I walked up towards the tier that the fish had indicated, I couldn’t help but continue to look around. The palace was bright despite there being no lanterns, and was filled with such a beautiful note of song. I could see a group sitting up on a hanging grotto above, their tails flicking over the side of the pool they were perched on. They were all singing as their hands wove through the air and small iridescent bubbles emerged from all around, filling the ceiling above.
When I reached the second door I noticed it was different from the others. It was lined in the brightest gold I had ever seen, inlaid with pearl. Pressing my hand against the handle, I felt water shift over me before the door opened, and a throne room was revealed. Much like the rest of the palace, it was decked out in the coral and shells, the likes of which wove together to make most of the structure. The floor was shifting water and several small holes were scattered about where crabs and other small creatures could make their way through, with their deliveries. And at the end of the room, upon a large conch throne, was who I could only assume was Lady Kamille.
She sat, waiting for me. Her ebony skin was covered in a fine shimmer of galactic scales of aquamarine and her coiled hair floated around her, hovering damply as it cut across her gold eyes and lips.
“You are certainly not Anemone,” she spoke. Her voice deep and sultry, like a wind blown storm caked in salt. It sent a shiver across my spine and there was no doubt in my mind that she was the Baron. The power that pulsed from her alone was enough of a hint, along with the fact that I could see one very large, oyster shell signet ring, on her right hand. “You have ten seconds to state your name and why you are here.”
[[Answer in fear and trepidation]]
[[Answer quickly and efficiently]]
[[Answer lighthearted if not cocky]]I bowed. I didn’t know how else to show respect and with the sharp way she was looking at me, I knew I would not be given this chance again. My heart thudded against my chest as I stared at her, fully aware that she could snap me in two with a wave of her hand. Chrysanthemum had not felt like a force to be reckoned with, but this woman did.
“My name is $name. I come representing a group of people very concerned over the state of the Night Market. The world is dying, and we are trying to prevent that.”
Silence.
So much silence that I felt it crushing my bowed spine.
When Kamille moved, I could hear the slosh of water. The crystal up above reflected down onto the bioluminescent pools around, reflecting off the scales of koi mingling with jellyfish. Peeking upwards, I could see her leaning forward, observing me. Her own tail flicking lazily on the shell path, jelly fish tendrils lying in soft rolls all around. They cracked with a barely concealed current that I knew meant she could paralyze me with one strike.
“Stand,” she said. “Though I do rather appreciate the bow. It will serve you well to remember that you are not in your home. But in mine. Thus far, it seems as if you are intelligent enough to realize this.”
Straightening, I kept my gaze somewhat averted. I didn’t speak, knowing it was probably best that I followed instead of lead the conversation.
“Interesting,” she finally said after long, drawn out moments where I felt only my own heart and the rise and fall of my own breath. Not even the spectral crabs were wandering anymore. Having now hidden somewhere away as the holes in the ground closed to give us privacy. “I was not aware land walkers cared. I assumed you all were so wrapped up in your own selfish proclivities that you had no idea the market was dying.”
My head snapped up fully. “You knew?”
“I did. Malcolm Albright and I had many a conversation about it. He was well on his way to helping stop it before he passed.”
I felt my jaw nearly drop to the floor and couldn’t control the look that crossed my eyes. To hear someone, a Baron no less, drop his name so casually felt foreign. I had been living in a bubble where only a select few had been privy to the secrets of the Gatekeepers. Now, I was starting to learn that Malcolm’s world was far more vast than what he led his loved ones to believe.
“What is it you come to me for?” she asked.
I tried to move past the realization that this tight-knit group I assumed Milo, Hazel and Malcolm had lived in, was far from the truth. That Malcolm was laying the groundwork for what we were trying to accomplish now. It was a hammer to my perception, and I wondered how much it would hurt the very ones he had kept in the dark in order to protect.
“We need your power. Not all of it. Just some,” I said. “If every Baron agrees, I can become the name keeper and find out where the new Gatekeeper is.”
Lady Kamille tipped her head to the side, her expression unreadable. “You are assuming that the Gatekeeper is your key to fixing all this?”
“If there is another way I would love to know,” I said breathlessly, eager for any and all options.
But her lips were thin and the shifting scales around her eyes tight. It was clear that she did not know.
“I perhaps can be inclined to help you,” she said. She was a woman that drew out each and every word. Not for dramatic effect, but more for the time to think of what she was going to say. “For a price.”
“A price?” The world was dying. I didn’t understand why I would have to pay a price at all.
“A namekeeper is no easy thing to entrust to you.” She glided forward, the fluttering tendrils of her bottom half dragging across the floor in stinging lines. “How am I to know you will not use this knowledge to your advantage? Do you know how many seek a Baron to kill? I need assurance you are not one of them.”
[[(Angry)The world is dying. You cannot make these demands]]
[[(Desperate) Please. We don’t have time for this]]
[[(Resigned) What do I need to do?]]I took a step forward, holding my head up high to show respect. But this woman was one that would not appreciate her time being wasted so I aimed to answer her questions as clearly as I possibly could.
“My name is $name. I come representing a group of people very concerned over the state of the Night Market. The world is dying, and we are trying to prevent that.”
Silence.
So much silence that for a moment I wondered if there was something more that she needed from me. Had I not answered correctly?
When Kamille moved, I could hear the slosh of water. The crystals up above reflected down onto the bioluminescent pools around, reflecting off the scales of koi mingling with jelly fish. Peeking upwards, I could see her leaning forward, observing me. Her own tail flicking lazily on the shell path, jelly fish tendrils lying in soft rolls all around. They cracked with a barely concealed current that I knew meant she could paralyze me with one strike.
“Interesting,” she finally said after long, drawn out moments where I felt only my own heart and the rise and fall of my own breath. Not even the spectral crabs were wandering anymore. Having now hidden somewhere away as the holes in the ground closed to give us privacy. “I was not aware land walkers cared. I assumed you all were so wrapped up in your own selfish proclivities that you had no idea the market was dying.”
My head snapped up fully. “You knew?”
“I did. Malcolm Albright and I had many a conversation about it. He was well on his way to helping stop it before he passed.”
I felt my jaw nearly drop to the floor and couldn’t control the look that crossed my eyes. To hear someone, a Baron no less, drop his name so casually felt foreign. I had been living in a bubble where only a select few had been privy to the secrets of the Gatekeepers. Now, I was starting to learn that Malcolm’s world was far more vast than what he led his loved ones to believe.
“What is it you come to me for?” she asked.
I tried to move past the realization that this tight-knit group I assumed Milo, Hazel and Malcolm had lived in, was far from the truth. That Malcolm was laying the groundwork for what we were trying to accomplish now. It was a hammer to my perception, and I wondered how much it would hurt the very ones he had kept in the dark in order to protect.
“We need your power. Not all of it. Just some,” I said. “If every Baron agrees, I can become the name keeper and find out where the new Gatekeeper is.”
Lady Kamille tipped her head to the side, her expression unreadable. “You are assuming that the Gatekeeper is your key to fixing all this?”
“If there is another way I would love to know,” I said breathlessly, eager for any and all options.
But her lips were thin and the shifting scales around her eyes tight. It was clear that she did not know.
“I perhaps can be inclined to help you,” she said. She was a woman that drew out each and every word. Not for dramatic effect, but more for the time to think of what she was going to say. “For a price.”
“A price?” The world was dying. I didn’t understand why I would have to pay a price at all.
“A namekeeper is no easy thing to entrust to you.” She glided forward, the fluttering tendrils of her bottom half dragging across the floor in stinging lines. “How am I to know you will not use this knowledge to your advantage? Do you know how many seek a Baron to kill? I need assurance you are not one of them.”
[[(Angry)The world is dying. You cannot make these demands]]
[[(Desperate) Please. We don’t have time for this]]
[[(Resigned) What do I need to do?]]I grinned at her, giving a flourish of a bow. “My name is $name. I’m one of those pesky land walkers from the market,” I said. “Here to ask your help in making sure we don’t all die.”
Silence.
So much silence that I felt the smile begin to freeze on my face. When I tried to stand from the bow I had placed myself in, I could not.
When Kamille moved, I could hear the slosh of water. The crystal up above reflected down onto the bioluminescent pools around, reflecting off the scales of koi mingling with jelly fish. Peeking upwards, I could see her leaning forward, observing me. Her own tail flicking lazily on the shell path, jelly fish tendrils lying in soft rolls all around. They cracked with a barely concealed current that I knew meant she could paralyze me with one strike.
“Stand,” she said. “And perhaps answer me with a tad bit more respect, land walker. This is your only warning.”
I felt my spine loosen and the breath I hadn’t known was punched from my chest, returning with a gasp. I stood, looking at the woman, her head cocked to the side as she observed me. I didn’t speak, knowing it was probably best that I followed instead of lead the conversation.
“Interesting,” she finally said after long, drawn out moments where I felt only my own heart and the rise and fall of my own breath. Not even the spectral crabs were wandering anymore. Having now hidden somewhere away as the holes in the ground closed to give us privacy. “I was not aware land walkers cared. I assumed you all were so wrapped up in your own selfish proclivities that you had no idea the market was dying.”
My head snapped up fully. “You knew?”
“I did. Malcolm Albright and I had many a conversation about it. He was well on his way to helping stop it before he passed.”
I felt my jaw nearly drop to the floor and couldn’t control the look that crossed my eyes. To hear someone, a Baron no less, drop his name so casually felt foreign. I had been living in a bubble where only a select few had been privy to the secrets of the Gatekeepers. Now, I was starting to learn that Malcolm’s world was far more vast than what he led his loved ones to believe.
“What is it you come to me for?” she asked.
I tried to move past the realization that this tight-knit group I assumed Milo, Hazel and Malcolm had lived in, was far from the truth. That Malcolm was laying the groundwork for what we were trying to accomplish now. It was a hammer to my perception, and I wondered how much it would hurt the very ones he had kept in the dark in order to protect.
“We need your power. Not all of it. Just some,” I said. “If every Baron agrees, I can become the name keeper and find out where the new Gatekeeper is.”
Lady Kamille tipped her head to the side, her expression unreadable. “You are assuming that the Gatekeeper is your key to fixing all this?”
“If there is another way I would love to know,” I said breathlessly, eager for any and all options.
But her lips were thin and the shifting scales around her eyes tight. It was clear that she did not know.
“I perhaps can be inclined to help you,” she said. She was a woman that drew out each and every word. Not for dramatic effect, but more for the time to think of what she was going to say. “For a price.”
“A price?” The world was dying. I didn’t understand why I would have to pay a price at all.
“A namekeeper is no easy thing to entrust to you.” She glided forward, the fluttering tendrils of her bottom half dragging across the floor in stinging lines. “How am I to know you will not use this knowledge to your advantage? Do you know how many seek a Baron to kill? I need assurance you are not one of them.”
[[(Angry)The world is dying. You cannot make these demands]]
[[(Desperate) Please. We don’t have time for this]]
[[(Resigned) What do I need to do?]]“Are you kidding?” I looked at her incredulously. Her palace had seemed fair and the ones I had met so far, even kind. But this? This was the hubris that I had been warned of. The idea that the Barons thought they were above it all.
“Do I look jovial at the moment?” she challenged with a raised brow.
“People are dying. They are going to die if we don’t do anything. You cannot make these demands.”
“I can, and I have,” she said. “It is you that has no room for negotiation.” We stood opposite of each other, both staring at one another and seeing who would back down first. She was right. I held none of the cards. I had to do as she asked or else I risked everything.
“A mirror was stolen from me,” she said. “I wish to have it back.”
I waited, expecting there to be more. But she only stared at me levelly. “That’s it?”
“That is it.”
A mirror. The root of this woman's favor was based on a mirror. “What’s the catch?”
She smiled a bit. “The mirror in question has been taken by a group of fishmongers. They are on the outskirts of the Deep in a place that I cannot follow due to the dangers. Given how the monsters have been behaving, I also cannot spare the guards. But I can spare you.” The teeth that peeked out from her smile were all filed to jagged points.
“What is so special about this mirror?” I asked, trying to remind myself that I needed to do this quick.
“That is none of your business.” She began making her way back to her throne, clearly dismissing me. “Either take the job or not.”
“I’ll do it.” I didn’t have any other option. We needed her favor. Without it, our entire plan fell to the wayside.
“Good. Do you know how to swim?” she waved her hand at me. “No matter. I’ll provide you with something, so you can stay underwater for a bit. Retrieve the mirror, and I will help you. Don’t retrieve it, and don’t bother coming back to the palace.”
With one arm she pointed towards a section of the palace, an old tunnel that looked like it led downward. Purple algae grew all around it.
“How am I supposed to get it back?”
“That is up to you. But let me assure you. How you proceed will dictate just how much favor I do give you.”
Walking over to the tunnel I looked down. There was nothing there but a dark abyss. The coral still glowed at my side, giving me a few hours left. I doubted I would be lucky enough to make it back to the palace in time, but the other option was clearly to just walk away and hope we didn’t need Lady Kamille’s help. I didn’t know if I could face the others if I didn’t at least try.
Looking over my shoulder, I stared at Lady Kamille for a long moment. There was no telling if she was screwing me over. She could very well have been sending me to my own death. Not that it would matter. If I didn’t succeed, if she was unwilling to help, death was inevitable.
Stepping up and onto the ledge, I looked down into the inky depths, wondering just what the darkness contained. Holding my breath, I jumped in, and was instantly, plunged into the dark.
[[Chapter Seven]]I shook my head, feeling the air sucked from my chest as anxiety began to swell. “Please. We don’t have time for this.” The coral tucked inside my pocket wasn’t the only thing ticking away our minutes. The tear in the sky above Anemone’s shop. The gates that had all been opening. The woman knew of the dangers that were being presented to the world, and yet she still was bargaining.
“That item in question was special,” she said airly. “Get it back or else leave this palace. It does not bother me one way or another.” Meaning, the item meant nothing to her. It was a fool's task and a test meant for me alone. If I walked out of here, she wasn’t going to waste the time to track it down.
But she had me backed into a corner. There was nothing I could do.
“A mirror was stolen from me,” she said. “I wish to have it back.”
I waited, expecting there to be more. But she only stared at me levelly. “That’s it?”
“That is it.”
A mirror. The root of this woman's favor was based on a mirror. “What’s the catch?”
She smiled a bit. “The mirror in question has been taken by a group of fishmongers. They are on the outskirts of the Deep in a place that I cannot follow due to the dangers. Given how the monsters have been behaving, I also cannot spare the guards. But I can spare you.” The teeth that peeked out from her smile were all filed to jagged points.
“What is so special about this mirror?” I asked, trying to remind myself that I needed to do this quick.
“That is none of your business.” She began making her way back to her throne, clearly dismissing me. “Either take the job or not.”
“I’ll do it.” I didn’t have any other option. We needed her favor. Without it, our entire plan fell to the wayside.
“Good. Do you know how to swim?” she waved her hand at me. “No matter. I’ll provide you with something, so you can stay underwater for a bit. Retrieve the mirror, and I will help you. Don’t retrieve it, and don’t bother coming back to the palace.”
With one arm she pointed towards a section of the palace, an old tunnel that looked like it led downward. Purple algae grew all around it.
“How am I supposed to get it back?”
“That is up to you. But let me assure you. How you proceed will dictate just how much favor I do give you.”
Walking over to the tunnel I looked down. There was nothing there but a dark abyss. The coral still glowed at my side, giving me a few hours left. I doubted I would be lucky enough to make it back to the palace in time, but the other option was clearly to just walk away and hope we didn’t need Lady Kamille’s help. I didn’t know if I could face the others if I didn’t at least try.
Looking over my shoulder, I stared at Lady Kamille for a long moment. There was no telling if she was screwing me over. She could very well have been sending me to my own death. Not that it would matter. If I didn’t succeed, if she was unwilling to help, death was inevitable.
Stepping up and onto the ledge, I looked down into the inky depths, wondering just what the darkness contained. Holding my breath, I jumped in, and was instantly, plunged into the dark.
[[Chapter Seven]]“What do you need?” There was no point in trying to argue with her. Every second that we did was another moment that we didn’t have her trust or favor. And another moment that the coral began to die.
“A mirror was stolen from me,” she said. “I wish to have it back.”
I waited, expecting there to be more. But she only stared at me levelly. “That’s it?”
“That is it.”
A mirror. The root of this woman's favor was based on a mirror. “What’s the catch?”
She smiled a bit. “The mirror in question has been taken by a group of fishmongers. They are on the outskirts of the Deep in a place that I cannot follow due to the dangers. Given how the monsters have been behaving, I also cannot spare the guards. But I can spare you.” The teeth that peeked out from her smile were all filed to jagged points.
“What is so special about this mirror?” I asked, trying to remind myself that I needed to do this quick.
“That is none of your business.” She began making her way back to her throne, clearly dismissing me. “Either take the job or not.”
“I’ll do it.” I didn’t have any other option. We needed her favor. Without it, our entire plan fell to the wayside.
“Good. Do you know how to swim?” she waved her hand at me. “No matter. I’ll provide you with something, so you can stay underwater for a bit. Retrieve the mirror, and I will help you. Don’t retrieve it, and don’t bother coming back to the palace.”
With one arm she pointed towards a section of the palace, an old tunnel that looked like it led downward. Purple algae grew all around it.
“How am I supposed to get it back?”
“That is up to you. But let me assure you. How you proceed will dictate just how much favor I do give you.”
Walking over to the tunnel I looked down. There was nothing there but a dark abyss. The coral still glowed at my side, giving me a few hours left. I doubted I would be lucky enough to make it back to the palace in time, but the other option was clearly to just walk away and hope we didn’t need Lady Kamille’s help. I didn’t know if I could face the others if I didn’t at least try.
Looking over my shoulder, I stared at Lady Kamille for a long moment. There was no telling if she was screwing me over. She could very well have been sending me to my own death. Not that it would matter. If I didn’t succeed, if she was unwilling to help, death was inevitable.
Stepping up and onto the ledge, I looked down into the inky depths, wondering just what the darkness contained. Holding my breath, I jumped in, and was instantly, plunged into the dark.
[[Chapter Seven]]<img src="images/Ch7.png"
height="300" width="900">
Darkness descended.
It fell around me in a slow gradient of pitch, dipping me into an endless amount of nothingness that had no form and no discernible sense of direction. I could see nothing. Nothing, but the voidless black that stretched out before me and silenced even the sound of my own heart. The blood that had once rushed in my ears gave way with a small pop and despite screaming at myself to move my arms, my legs, any part of my body, there was nothing. Not even the knowledge of whether I was moving.
For a moment, I ceased to exist.
[[Panic]]
[[Stay Calm]]I thrashed within the water, clawing at my surroundings with curled hands as I tried to find anything to gain purchase with. Despite my kicks and open-mouthed screams, I only floated, my cries being swallowed up into the dark. My lungs burned despite the breath I knew was filling my chest, and the looming thought of death began to press in from all sides.
Thrashing, I tried to kick my way back to the surface. To find anything that I could cling to in order to end this slow descent into madness. My eyes filled with the heavy weight of tears and my chest began to heave as the bitter cold sloshed around me. But no matter how hard I tried, how hard I struggled, I was being pulled downwards. As if a weight was attached to my ankles and wrapped around me in a vice-like grip no matter how hard I struggled.
My head began to empty. Death was whispering in my ear.
I thought about my grandmother. I could almost see her face. Wrinkled skin with graying hair wispy about her eyes. She had a kind smile as she leaned over me at night, tucking me in. I was little. Young to both the world and to existence. Snuggled beneath an old blue quilt. The one that had been on my bed before. The only memory that I had left. Except now there was her. Kindly eyes and the smell of life as she leaned down to kiss me goodnight.
I nearly reached out for her.
In the distance, a light flickered, blinding me. My head had lolled back, and I was floating, back arched and limbs loose.
Blink.
Blink blink.
That distant light began to flutter closer, approaching me with an expanding brightness until I brought my hand up to shield my own eyes. I was still sinking as the light passed over head, displacing the surrounding water.
The curved teeth of an angler fish nearly skinned me as I ducked away, its scales brushing across mine as its mouth remained open, as if to swallow me whole. With it came the jolt of my heart as it slammed against my chest and time sped up once more. The rush of water suddenly roared in my ears and the desperation to flee shot through my limbs with a searing bolt. I kicked my legs and swam downwards.
Up above, the fish passed without incident and my feet hit a rocky bottom.
The air wavered around me. I was breathing just fine, but I knew somehow that water encircled me. It rushed in a cool trickle around my lungs and I could feel the shredded slit against my neck. Reaching up, I felt the barbed edges of gills and knew it was the only thing keeping me alive. I tried not to flinch away as I ran my fingers across them and my own body involuntarily recoiled in discomfort. But the Baron did say she would provide a way for me to breathe. At least she hadn’t forgotten.
Looking around, the ocean floor seemed a little clearer than the descent down. I could see more lanterns hovering in the distance as angler fish loomed in the dark. I still only had the knife Gabriel had given me and I doubted it would do much against whatever was lurking down here. The rock beneath my feet was dusted with a faint luminosity that glowed from beneath the pebbled surface. It still was not enough to see far into the dark but with each step, moonlight whirred to life beneath my feet.
Suddenly, I was aware of just what kind of situation I was in. I had to find a mirror in the vast expanse of the Deep with nothing to go off of other than the fishmongers took it. I had no direction. I had no protection. And as I looked at the coral once more, I realized now I had less than three hours before I needed to be back up top.
It left me with little time to think as I ventured forward, my mind buzzing with the search for anything that might be helpful in my cause. Other than the hope that I might blindly stumble upon a solution, there was nothing I could do.
[[Look in the sand]]
[[Venture further into the dark]]
[[Try to call out for someone]]I closed my eyes, trying to even out the breaths I could feel. It was only with great concentration that I could even understand the faint register of the slow rise and fall of my chest. I was floating through water, my lungs burning despite being able to breathe and the urge to forget everything pressed in on me at each side.
I didn’t know how long I was in the dark. How many days or hours had passed. Despite reaching for the living coral and holding it in my hands, I saw nothing. The light from the twisting polyp didn’t penetrate the thick of the dark. I didn’t know where I was. If my eyes were no longer closed. My head was an empty space to be filled with the unknown that lurked beneath me. But instead of fighting it, I quieted my mind, accepting the passage of time. It felt endless and yet offered a slow burn of peace that flickered across my skin.
I thought about my grandmother. I could almost see her face. Wrinkled skin with graying hair wispy about her eyes. She had a kind smile as she leaned over me at night, tucking me in. I was little. Young to both the world and to existence. Snuggled beneath an old blue quilt. The one that had been on my bed before. The only memory that I had left. Except now there was her. Kindly eyes and the smell of life as she leaned down to kiss me goodnight.
I nearly reached out for her.
When a light flickered in the dark, I thought I was dreaming. It pulsed in the distance, a faint glow that I could almost believe was my imagination.
Blink.
Blink blink.
It began to flutter closer, approaching me with an expanding brightness until I brought my hand up to shield my own eyes. I was still sinking as the light passed over head, displacing the surrounding water.
The curved teeth of an angler fish nearly skinned me as I ducked away, its scales brushing across mine as its mouth remained open, as if to swallow me whole. With it came the jolt of my heart as it slammed against my chest and time sped up once more. The rush of water suddenly roared in my ears and the desperation to flee shot through my limbs with a searing bolt. I kicked my legs and swam downwards.
Up above, the fish passed without incident and my feet hit a rocky bottom.
The air wavered around me. I was breathing just fine, but I knew somehow that water encircled me. It rushed in a cool trickle around my lungs and I could feel the shredded slit against my neck. Reaching up, I felt the barbed edges of gills and knew it was the only thing keeping me alive. I tried not to flinch away as I ran my fingers across them and my own body involuntarily recoiled in discomfort. But the Baron did say she would provide a way for me to breathe. At least she hadn’t forgotten.
Looking around, the ocean floor seemed a little clearer than the descent down. I could see more lanterns hovering in the distance as angler fish loomed in the dark. I still only had the knife Gabriel had given me and I doubted it would do much against whatever was lurking down here. The rock beneath my feet was dusted with a faint luminosity that glowed from beneath the pebbled surface. It still was not enough to see far into the dark but with each step, moonlight whirred to life beneath my feet.
Suddenly, I was aware of just what kind of situation I was in. I had to find a mirror in the vast expanse of the Deep with nothing to go off of other than the fishmongers took it. I had no direction. I had no protection. And as I looked at the coral once more, I realized now I had less than three hours before I needed to be back up top.
It left me with little time to think as I ventured forward, my mind buzzing with the search for anything that might be helpful in my cause. Other than the hope that I might blindly stumble upon a solution, there was nothing I could do.
[[Look in the sand]]
[[Venture further into the dark]]
[[Try to call out for someone]]Deep breathing was all I felt like I had as I began to peer around me. I didn’t exactly know what the bottom of the ocean looked like, but I didn’t think my surroundings were much different than what I would see if I had been a ship sinking to the bottom of the sea.
There was a faint glow beneath my feet. Something that I hadn’t been aware of until I began shuffling around. As I shuffled around I began to realize that what was beneath my feet was far more than just granules of sand. Bending down, I dipped my fingers beneath the pebbled surface. Smooth glass lay beneath the grit. Tipping my head to the side, I began to dig. Slowly at first, not wishing to displace too much lest I fall beneath the ocean floor. But what came away was an opaque flooring, silver and white smoke casting shadows just beneath the surface. The ground was rocky and filled with broken shells, but what lay beneath was a silken smooth floor that lit up around my fingers at first contact before fading again. Pulling my hand away, I looked at my palm, but my skin remained unmarred.
Curiously, I pressed my hand downwards once more, applying pressure to see if there was any sort of give. On the other side of the glass, a pale white hand pressed back.
[[Stumble backwards startled]]
[[Keep your hand pressed there]]
<<set $deepghosts to "true">>My heart leapt in my chest, thudding against my ribs as I fell backwards. Eyes wide, I stared at where I had just crouched. The outline of the hand was fading, disappearing, along with the light. Slowly, the sand began to fill in the space, covering the exposed glass. As if to hide whatever it so desperately wished to conceal.
Gathering my wits about me, I stood once more, slowly making my way back to the displaced sand. With the flat of my foot, I began to move around the granules, trying to figure out just what I had seen. When it was clear that whatever glass surface I stood on stretched far beyond the little area I had landed, I bent downwards, brushing aside as much as I could.
Beneath the pebbles and broken bits of shells was one long stretch of the shifting material. The floor itself was murky with sediment and whatever was swirling on the other side, but I could see movement. Lots of movement. Forms twisted and writhed just beneath my feet, pressing themselves to the surface with each new touch and lighting that dark with a soft opaque glow. I couldn’t tell if there was sentience beneath me. Just that something was there. It didn’t help me with the fishmongers, however, and as I looked down at the coral that indicated the amount of time I had left, I knew that the likelihood of escape from here was slim. The surrounding area was too vast and far too endless.
Pressing forward was the only option I had and the beings beneath me were the only lights that could possibly guide me.
Continuing down across the empty expanse of ocean floor, I looked for any other signs of life. I didn’t know how the Baron expected me to find a mirror in a desolate wasteland of sea but I was beginning to think that she never intended me to at all. Maybe I had been foolish for jumping down here so quickly. At the very least, I should have asked more questions. It just didn’t seem as if I had had any time. The clock was ticking on several accounts and I had panicked. The first two rings had been easy and left me entirely unprepared. The rash decision that followed was born from overconfidence. More likely, however, it stemmed from the absolute guileless nature of my own being.
[[Try to search the dark for more lights]]
[[Try to listen for which direction to go in]]
[[Try to communicate with whatever was beneath the glass]]My heart leapt into my chest, thudding against my ribs, but still, I managed to keep my hand pressed to the slick glass below. The outline was clear. The hand was only a bit smaller than mine and looked pale and dull beneath the smokey surface. Tapping my fingers, I tried to reach out to the thing, communicating with it somehow. It tapped back, mimicking my movements and mirroring them with only a small delay.
Standing, I began to uncover more of the surrounding area with the flat of my foot. When it was clear that whatever glass surface I stood on stretched far beyond the little area I had landed, I bent downwards, brushing aside as much as I could.
Beneath the pebbles and broken bits of shells was one long stretch of the shifting material. The floor itself was murky with sediment and whatever was swirling on the other side, but I could see movement. Lots of movement. Forms twisted and writhed just beneath my feet, pressing themselves to the surface with each new touch and lighting that dark with a soft opaque glow. I couldn’t tell if there was sentience beneath me. Just that something was there. It didn’t help me with the fishmongers, however, and as I looked down at the coral that indicated the amount of time I had left, I knew that the likelihood of escape from here was slim. The surrounding area was too vast and far too endless.
Pressing forward was the only option I had and the beings beneath me were the only lights that could possibly guide me.
Continuing down across the empty expanse of ocean floor, I looked for any other signs of life. I didn’t know how the Baron expected me to find a mirror in a desolate wasteland of sea but I was beginning to think that she never intended me to at all. Maybe I had been foolish for jumping down here so quickly. At the very least, I should have asked more questions. It just didn’t seem as if I had had any time. The clock was ticking on several accounts and I had panicked. The first two rings had been easy and left me entirely unprepared. The rash decision that followed was born from overconfidence. More likely, however, it stemmed from the absolute guileless nature of my own being.
[[Try to search the dark for more lights]]
[[Try to listen for which direction to go in]]
[[Try to communicate with whatever was beneath the glass]]I didn’t know how long I walked and was all too aware that time was beginning to have no meaning again. I remembered thinking that when I first arrived in the Night Market. The monster of silence had loomed across my back and as it crept forward now, I was reminded of its unwanted friendship. I just needed to find someone. It was doubtful that everything down here was monstrous. If that were the case, there was no reason for the Baron to have access to this within her chambers.
Except for when she wished to send unwanted visitors away.
Sighing, I paused in my aimless wanderings, trying to peer into the soupy darkness for any other faint glow of light. While I didn’t love the idea of something else wandering around in the dark with me, if the ground lit up, it stood to reason that I was not alone. And that meant that there was a possibility they knew how to get out of here.
But as I stood, searching into the nothing, nothing stared right back. The angler fish up above continued to swim in some odd mimicry of the Night Market up top, but nothing more. Until a soft glow appeared just under my feet. I thought nothing of it at first, knowing the heat from my own body was what was attracting whatever was below, but as it began to move, stretching outwards into dotted steps, my breath caught in my chest. The light paused a few feet from me, as if it were waiting. Slowly, I began to follow.
The faster I walked, the faster the light began to race away. The atmosphere around me felt as if it had a hold on my limbs, but I pushed through, not willing to let the only source of intelligence I could see, get away. When it stopped near the craggy edges of a cliff, I bent at the knees, my breath escaping raggedly through both my lips and the gills that had been imposed on my skin.
A black fault line cracked beneath my feet, racing forward in a fading bolt of lightning, until a hole began to form not far from me. The glow that emitted from it was brighter than what I had seen so far and the sand began to pour downwards as the glass covering the world below, began to falter.
Rushing forward I skidded onto my knees, pushing aside the sand that tried to pour into the growing hole that was caving inwards. A hand reached up through it, grasping for something.
[[Leave it alone]]
[[Pull the hand]]
[[Have your knife at the ready]]I didn’t know how long I walked and was all too aware that time was beginning to have no meaning again. I remembered thinking that when I first arrived in the Night Market. The monster of silence had loomed across my back and as it crept forward now, I was reminded of its unwanted friendship. I just needed to find someone. It was doubtful that everything down here was monstrous. If that were the case, there was no reason for the Baron to have access to this within her chambers.
Except for when she wished to send unwanted visitors away.
Sighing, I closed my eyes, trying to listen for any sound emanating from the dark. There was a low thrum that sounded all around me. I was unaware that water even made a sound until I was in the heart of it. But when I truly cast my senses outwards and tried to differentiate the noise, there was one sound that was different from all the rest. A whisper. No. Tapping? I frowned, trying to focus on the noise.
It was a tap. The rhythm was coming from a boulder off to my right, the sound growing louder the closer I got. The faint tap turned into a harsh slap as I stepped closer and closer to the monolithic rock, only stopping when my toes butted up against the base of it.
Reaching out, I tapped the rock, trying to mimic the sound I heard. When whatever was inside tapped again, I nearly cried out in relief. There were three staccato wraps that sounded against the boulder before they were gone again. They raced off into the distance, towards another rocky structure a bit down, tapping incessantly. Quickly, I followed, running from boulder to boulder until I reached the rocky cliffs edge that plunged down into the dark.
I looked around. There was no other rock to run to. No other sound of tapping. Only the abyss and the water above.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I called out, as if the knocks could answer me back.
A dull light began to glow before me. Something soft and spherical from beneath the sand. A quick pass of my foot across the ground told me that I was still walking on a thick sheet of glass. But, ahead, I could see where it cracked. One long black fault line raced forward into a forming split.
Rushing forward I skidded onto my knees, pushing aside the sand that tried to pour into the growing hole that was caving inwards. A hand reached up through it, grasping for something.
[[Leave it alone]]
[[Pull the hand]]
[[Have your knife at the ready]]My heart leapt in my chest, thudding against my ribs as I stared down at the outline of the hand.
“Hello? Can you hear me?” I felt like a fool for asking, my voice feeling muffled beneath the water. I tapped my fingers a few times, trying to figure out a way to communicate with the being, wondering if it needed help. A soft chime answered me back. The tone of a bell that rang across the ground. I followed the direction of it, seeing nothing in the dark. When I looked back down, the hand was gone, leaving a faint outline only.
Standing, I peered into the soupy darkness. The angler fish up above continued to swim in some odd mimicry of the Night Market up top, but nothing more. Until a soft glow appeared just under my feet. I thought nothing of it at first, knowing the heat from my own body was what was attracting whatever was below, but as it began to move, stretching outwards into dotted steps, my breath caught in my chest. The light paused a few feet from me, as if it were waiting. Slowly, I began to follow.
The faster I walked, the faster the light began to race away. The atmosphere around me felt as if it had a hold on my limbs, but I pushed through, not willing to let the only source of intelligence I could see, get away. When it stopped near the craggy edges of a cliff, I bent at the knees, my breath escaping raggedly through both my lips and the gills that had been imposed on my skin.
A black fault line cracked beneath my feet, racing forward in a fading bolt of lightning, until a hole began to form not far from me. The glow that emitted from it was brighter than what I had seen so far and the sand began to pour downwards as the glass covering the world below, began to falter.
Rushing forward I skidded onto my knees, pushing aside the sand that tried to pour into the growing hole that was caving inwards. A hand reached up through it, grasping for something.
[[Leave it alone]]
[[Pull the hand]]
[[Have your knife at the ready]]I stared at the appendage as it curled out of the ground, fingers grasping at nothing. It’s fingers curled forward as it clawed at the shattering glass. I could only stare dumbfounded as it tightened its grip, beginning to flex its fingers back and forth as it slowly began to shift, the ground around it cracking wider around a forearm and then a shoulder.
When the body finally broke free, a man stared back at me. He was young with coal-black eyes and a face that was lined in shock.
“Wanderer,” he breathed.
I stared at him. His voice was everything and nothing all at once. I could hear it. I even logically knew he was talking. But, the moment I tried to hold it to me, the very nature of it slipped away.
As he stood up straight I tried to focus on his features. Each time I caught a hold of the color of his hair, the pigment of his skin, the image slid across my mind before meandering away from me. Black hair shifted to brown and then to deep blonde. His skin was the hue of rich umber before bleeding to the pale light of the moon. Each new appearance felt like the right one whereas all the others before only felt like a memory that had shifted out of focus.
[[I’m afraid I really don’t know whats going on]]
[[I’m glad I got you out of there]]
[[Were you the one who was helping me just now?]]Taking a deep breath, I reached out, clutching the hand within my own. It felt clammy and wet, the bones brittle as I gripped it tight. Its fingers curled around mine, clinging to me as I wrapped my free hand around the forearm that was beginning to appear. The arm itself was gray and cold, dusted with a fine layer of what looked like shattered glass. I gritted my teeth, feeling the resistance of the ground before me, but I could see the crack beginning to shift. To form around the body that was slowly emerging, widening as the other arm came through and began to push itself forward.
When the body finally broke free, a man stared back at me. He was young with coal-black eyes and a face that was lined in shock.
“Wanderer,” he breathed.
I stared at him. His voice was everything and nothing all at once. I could hear it. I even logically knew he was talking. But, the moment I tried to hold it to me, the very nature of it slipped away.
As he stood up straight I tried to focus on his features. Each time I caught a hold of the color of his hair, the pigment of his skin, the image slid across my mind before meandering away from me. Black hair shifted to brown and then to deep blonde. His skin was the hue of rich umber before bleeding to the pale light of the moon. Each new appearance felt like the right one whereas all the others before only felt like a memory that had shifted out of focus.
[[I’m afraid I really don’t know whats going on]]
[[I’m glad I got you out of there]]
[[Were you the one who was helping me just now?]]I stared at the appendage as it curled out of the ground, fingers grasping at nothing. Within my hand, I gripped the hilt of the knife, taking a few steps back and holding it before me. If something was about to emerge from the depths beneath my feet, I would be ready.
Fingers curled forward as the hand clawed at the shattering glass. I could only stare dumbfounded as it tightened its grip, beginning to flex the milk white appendage back and forth as it slowly began to shift, the ground around it cracking wider around a forearm and then a shoulder. It didn’t even look real. The creature's skin looking waxy and paper thin.
When the body finally broke free, a man stared back at me. He was young with coal-black eyes and a face that was lined in shock.
“Wanderer,” he breathed.
I stared at him, knife still brandished before me. His voice was everything and nothing all at once. I could hear it. I even logically knew he was talking. But, the moment I tried to hold it to me, the very nature of it slipped away.
As he stood up straight I tried to focus on his features. Each time I caught a hold of the color of his hair, the pigment of his skin, the image slid across my mind before meandering away from me. Black hair shifted to brown and then to deep blonde. His skin was the hue of rich umber before bleeding to the pale light of the moon. Each new appearance felt like the right one whereas all the others before only felt like a memory that had shifted out of focus.
[[I’m afraid I really don’t know whats going on]]
[[I’m glad I got you out of there]]
[[Were you the one who was helping me just now?]]Blinking, I tried to ignore the chaos that flickered before me. Only now was my brain catching up with the fact that this had been a hand moments before. “What the hell is going on?”
The laugh came unbidden to his throat as he smiled and nodded, as if I had just told an old joke shared between friends. “What indeed.” Dusting the glass from his skin, I noticed how nothing changed. It still shimmered against his arms and face, embedded into his shifting form. “Do you truly not know this time or are you testing me again?”
“I don’t even know you,” I told him.
“Ah, we have chosen to forget. Or have been made to. No matter.” Straightening, he looked at me, his features settling into something kind and familiar. “What exactly are you doing down here? You’re not dead. Not really at least.”
I blinked at his odd way of phrasing. Then again, everything had felt slightly off kilter since coming down here. “I uh– I am looking for a mirror. Stolen by a fishmonger.”
“Tall order.” The man said. He didn’t look all that surprised by my words.
“It’s important.”
“Do you know what the mirror looks like?” I shook my head. The lack of information didn’t seem so much a bother to him given that he was looking around with a faint hum buzzing on his lips. Which in reality, since he was a hand that had emerged from the unknown, I appreciated. Instead, he only took in my plight and knelt down to the ground. Hand hovering over the crack in the glass, he whispered something beneath his breath. All around me, I watched as light raced off into the dark, small little balls of energy that shot forward before fading into the black. “There. Should only take a moment.”
“What?”
“I sent off some scouts. They should be able to tell if a mirror has come down this way recently. It was recent, correct? Or is this something long ago?”
“No. No, I think it’s recent. It is Baron Kamille’s if that helps.” His eyes flickered back and forth, flipping from grey to blue to violet to brown. Then, back to coal again. “That does. Thank you. Now we wait.”
I stared at him.
[[Please tell me you aren’t Malcolm Albright]]
[[Do we know each other?]]
[[Are you the entity they call the Night Market?]]Blinking, I tried to ignore the chaos that flickered before me. Only now was my brain catching up with the fact that this had been a hand moments before. “Are you alright?” I looked him up and down, still in shock myself from him emerging from the earth as if he were rising from the dead.
Holding his hand out in front of himself, he examined his fingers, wiggling them back and forth. “Yes. I believe I am. Though you look a sight,” he laughed. Dusting the glass from his skin, I noticed how nothing changed. It still shimmered against his arms and face, embedded into his shifting form.
“You came from the ground,” I said, stating the obvious. “You have glass all over you.”
“It was a bitch to emerge from. But anytime we enter the world it is.”
“We?”
“Me and the others,” he said absently. “Now. What exactly are you doing down here? You’re not dead. Not really at least.”
I blinked at his odd way of phrasing. Then again, everything had felt slightly off kilter since coming down here. “I uh– I am looking for a mirror. Stolen by a fishmonger.”
“Tall order.” The man said. He didn’t look all that surprised by my words.
“It’s important.”
“Do you know what the mirror looks like?” I shook my head. The lack of information didn’t seem so much a bother to him given that he was looking around with a faint hum buzzing on his lips. Which in reality, since he was a hand that had emerged from the unknown, I appreciated. Instead, he only took in my plight and knelt down to the ground. Hand hovering over the crack in the glass, he whispered something beneath his breath. All around me, I watched as light raced off into the dark, small little balls of energy that shot forward before fading into the black. “There. Should only take a moment.”
“What?”
“I sent off some scouts. They should be able to tell if a mirror has come down this way recently. It was recent, correct? Or is this something long ago?”
“No. No, I think it’s recent. It is Baron Kamille’s if that helps.” His eyes flickered back and forth, flipping from grey to blue to violet to brown. Then, back to coal again. “That does. Thank you. Now we wait.”
I stared at him.
[[Please tell me you aren’t Malcolm Albright]]
[[Do we know each other?]]
[[Are you the entity they call the Night Market?]]Blinking, I tried to ignore the chaos that flickered before me. Only now was my brain catching up with the fact that this had been a hand moments before. “Were you the one helping me?” I looked behind me, at the path I had stumbled from. “Someone was guiding me, I think.”
He smiled at me, bowing his head in reverence. “I was. I am glad that you used your senses to find me. It is hard to sometimes make my presence big enough.” Dusting the glass from his skin, I noticed how nothing changed. It still shimmered against his arms and face, embedded into his shifting form. “You are light on your feet and are open to possibilities,” he told me.
“Does that help?”
“Oh yes. The more open you are to the nuances of the world around you, the more likely you are to receive what you desire. Now,” he looked back and forth. “What exactly are you doing down here? You’re not dead. Not really at least.”
I blinked at his odd way of phrasing. Then again, everything had felt slightly off kilter since coming down here. “I uh– I am looking for a mirror. Stolen by a fishmonger.”
“Tall order.” The man said. He didn’t look all that surprised by my words.
“It’s important.”
“Do you know what the mirror looks like?” I shook my head. The lack of information didn’t seem so much a bother to him given that he was looking around with a faint hum buzzing on his lips. Which in reality, since he was a hand that had emerged from the unknown, I appreciated. Instead, he only took in my plight and knelt down to the ground. Hand hovering over the crack in the glass, he whispered something beneath his breath. All around me, I watched as light raced off into the dark, small little balls of energy that shot forward before fading into the black. “There. Should only take a moment.”
“What?”
“I sent off some scouts. They should be able to tell if a mirror has come down this way recently. It was recent, correct? Or is this something long ago?”
“No. No, I think it’s recent. It is Baron Kamille’s if that helps.” His eyes flickered back and forth, flipping from grey to blue to violet to brown. Then, back to coal again. “That does. Thank you. Now we wait.”
I stared at him.
[[Please tell me you aren’t Malcolm Albright]]
[[Do we know each other?]]
[[Are you the entity they call the Night Market?]]Something strange twisted in my gut. The world felt tilted and dreamlike as I tried to wrap my brain around what I was doing and what I was seeing. Soft brown eyes flashed before me, dark hair tied back in a bun, and tan skin across a muscular form. I stumbled a bit, blinking at the vision.
“Please tell me you are not Malcolm Albright,” I said. It felt like the icing on the cake. To come down to somewhere inescapable, only to find the man that Hazel had so desperately been looking for. That the //world// had been looking for.
The man frowned, his lips twisted downwards as he looked himself over. His image began to shift once more and I had to narrow my eyes to keep a hold of any singular visage.
“No. Sorry. Though I can see you tried to contact him. He’s down there somewhere. Doing his thing. But looks like he doesn’t want to talk right now.”
My eyes ticked down towards the broken glass. “So he’s alive?”
“Dead,” the man corrected. “Like us all. Although, I have to say, for a dead man, he keeps trying to concern himself with the living. Funny that. You’d think he’d want some peace after all this time.”
The words didn’t make sense although I felt as if they should. A man wandering the streets, hands tucked in his pockets as he spoke to the lanterns above. There was a warmth I felt from the idea. A soothing sort of camaraderie that I longed to have.
Protector.
But with everything else, it slipped away. Leaving me to only blink at the spectral image before me.
He sighed a bit at the confusion so clearly written across my face. “Again? Okay. I forget you can’t keep a hold of some things. Did you hear anything I just said?”
“About Malcolm?” I asked.
“No, my darling friend. About me.” He chuckled a bit, holding his arms out in a flourish. “I am a representation of all those who wander and have passed and all those waiting to be reborn.”
“You’re a ghost?”
Several bouts of laughter echoed around me all at once. “I suppose. Yes. Dozens, actually. Hundreds. I am a willing host that allows them to pop in and out, so they can make their stories known.” Tipping his head forward, he clasped his hands behind his back. “I saw you within the shop. I was the one who helped Malcolm come through.”
Closing my eyes, I solidified that to my memory. No matter what happened down here, we at least finally had a firm answer as to where Malcolm was. “So that was him.”
“It was.”
“How come he hasn’t been reborn?” I asked.
“Because the gate for rebirth is closed. Not long after he died many gates started closing. The gate to the well was one of them. Haven’t you noticed how no one is returning?”
“I’m new to the market,” I said with a frown. And, I had returned.
“Not so new, I would gauge.”
Something shot beneath his feet, rising up through his leg and brightening his eyes in a burning flash. I shielded my own eyes, trying to keep myself from wincing until it died down again.
“Your fishmongers are this way,” he said. “I would have one of my own just retrieve your mirror but, well, I’m here.” Stepping forward, he tested his foot on the ground, seeming delighted that he was able to walk. He grinned at me, a small child flashing from behind his facade, hopping forward as if this was the first time in a long while he had been set free.
[[So you’re not actually real?]]
[[Why did you call me Wanderer?]]
[[You wouldn’t by chance know how to get the gates open, would you?]]I couldn’t tell if what I was seeing was in some way familiar. As different faces and smiles crossed the man's face in an ever revolving door, there were moments that called to me. Soft little flashes of an expression that I felt was locked away in my own memory, just out of reach.
“Do we know each other?” I asked hesitantly. I wasn’t all together sure if I wanted to hear the answer. I didn’t know what it would mean for myself if he said yes.
The man tipped his head to the side, observing me carefully. There was a mirrored expression on his face as he narrowed his own eyes, trying to figure me out as well. In the end, he shook his head. “It’s a complicated question and an even more complicated answer. You sure you want to know?”
“I don’t know if not knowing is an option when I’m trying to figure out who I am.”
“Touche.” In fact, he looked pleased by the answer, his shoulders shifting downwards in relaxation. “Do you know me now? No. Do I know you now? Not really. Did we at one point in time? Eh.”
“Eh?”
“Eh. That’s where the complication comes in. See, I’m a representation. I am a voice and a vessel for all that are dead, all that are born, and all that are yet to be born. So it really depends on your own philosophical views to determine the answer to your own question.”
“You’re a ghost?”
Several bouts of laughter echoed around me all at once. “I suppose. Yes. Dozens, actually. Hundreds. I am a willing host that allows them to pop in and out, so they can make their stories known.” Tipping his head forward, he clasped his hands behind his back. “I saw you within the shop. I was the one who helped Malcolm come through.”
Closing my eyes, I solidified that to my memory. No matter what happened down here, we at least finally had a firm answer as to where Malcolm was. “So that was him.”
“It was.”
“How come he hasn’t been reborn?” I asked.
“Because the gate for rebirth is closed. Not long after he died many gates started closing. The gate to the well was one of them. Haven’t you noticed how no one is returning?”
“I’m new to the market,” I said with a frown. And, I had returned.
“Not so new, I would gauge.”
Something shot beneath his feet, rising up through his leg and brightening his eyes in a burning flash. I shielded my own eyes, trying to keep myself from wincing until it died down again.
“Your fishmongers are this way,” he said. “I would have one of my own just retrieve your mirror but, well, I’m here.” Stepping forward, he tested his foot on the ground, seeming delighted that he was able to walk. He grinned at me, a small child flashing from behind his facade, hopping forward as if this was the first time in a long while he had been set free.
[[So you’re not actually real?]]
[[Why did you call me Wanderer?]]
[[You wouldn’t by chance know how to get the gates open, would you?]]The Night Market was sentient. A fact that felt as if it were now drilled in my head, especially by Belladonna. Looking at this being now, I had to wonder if this was them. A representation of the world in which I lived. Part of me desperately hoped so, knowing that the opportunities that would be presented to us would be endless if they were. But the other part of me, didn’t know how I felt sitting in the presence of that kind of power.
“Are you the Night Market?” I asked, taking the risk and feeling my heart flutter with the winding paths the answer may open.
The man raised a brow at me.
“They say that the Night Market is sentient,” I explained. “That the world itself is alive in ways that you and I are. I just wonder if you could be it.”
“And what leads you to that idea?” he asked.
“The way you look. I can’t seem to focus on any one image, and yet I can focus on them all at once.”
He grinned. “I am not the Night Market. Or, no, perhaps that is not entirely correct to say. I am a part of the Night Market but not the Market itself. Instead, I am a representation of all those who wandered and passed and are waiting to be reborn.”
“You’re a ghost?”
Several bouts of laughter echoed around me all at once. “I suppose. Yes. Dozens, actually. Hundreds. I am a willing host that allows them to pop in and out, so they can make their stories known.” Tipping his head forward, he clasped his hands behind his back. “I saw you within the shop. I was the one who helped Malcolm come through.”
Closing my eyes, I solidified that to my memory. No matter what happened down here, we at least finally had a firm answer as to where Malcolm was. “So that was him.”
“It was.”
“How come he hasn’t been reborn?” I asked.
“Because the gate for rebirth is closed. Not long after he died many gates started closing. The gate to the well was one of them. Haven’t you noticed how no one is returning?”
“I’m new to the market,” I said with a frown. And, I had returned.
“Not so new, I would gauge.”
Something shot beneath his feet, rising up through his leg and brightening his eyes in a burning flash. I shielded my own eyes, trying to keep myself from wincing until it died down again.
“Your fishmongers are this way,” he said. “I would have one of my own just retrieve your mirror but, well, I’m here.” Stepping forward, he tested his foot on the ground, seeming delighted that he was able to walk. He grinned at me, a small child flashing from behind his facade, hopping forward as if this was the first time in a long while he had been set free.
[[So you’re not actually real?]]
[[Why did you call me Wanderer?]]
[[You wouldn’t by chance know how to get the gates open, would you?]]“Are you not real then?” I asked, following him. If he was a representation of everyone who was not walking above, was he even an entity onto himself? His voice kept shifting, offering different cadences until it was just one ball of different voices and personas filling my head. Yet, oddly, they all came together as one.
“Yes and no. I am and I am not.” He skipped over a rock that was jutting up from the ground. I noticed the light did not appear beneath his feet, but instead emanated from him in a faint glow. “I have sentience, but it is more of a collective sentience.”
“So you are everyone and no one all at once?” I asked, feeling my head hurt from the mere statement. He, however, seemed pleased.
“Yes.”
“Why present as male if you are everyone?” I asked curiously.
“I presented as a squid once, and it did not end well.” Looping around a corner, he looked over his shoulder at me. “Too much emphasis is put on gender and not enough is put on simply who you are. But, c’est la vie. To each their own. My representation isn’t really why you are here.”
“Still,” I told him. “The more I can learn the…”
Stopping, he turned to me fully, a half amused expression on his lips and a brow quirked towards me in curiosity. “Do you want answers or do you want the mirror? I cannot provide you with both.”
[[Answers]]
[[The mirror]]
[[That seems like a silly ultimatum]]“When you first came through, you called me Wanderer. Why?” I asked, struggling to keep up. He was quick on his feet and was hopping from one light puddle to the next. I noticed how they formed before he even stepped towards them. A game that was being played between him and whatever lingered beneath the surface.
“Because that’s what you are. Someone who has wandered off.”
“With purpose,” I told him. Though, maybe there needed to be a bit more purpose to my wandering when it wound me up in places like this.
He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “I’m not talking about down here.”
“Then what are you talking about?” Suddenly he was several yards in front of me, bounding forward with a blink of an eye. I raced to catch up. “Please, do you know who I am? Was I down here at some point?”
He held up his hand.
“Do you want answers or do you want the mirror? I cannot provide you with both.”
[[Answers]]
[[The mirror]]
[[That seems like a silly ultimatum]]“I might be going out on a limb here,” I started, following him as he began navigating his way forward, jumping from one puddle of light to the next. “But those closed gates. Do you know how to get them open?”
He laughed loudly, as if it were a question he had been asked time and time again. “That would solve a lot of problems, wouldn’t it?”
“But if Malcolm Albright is down here then wouldn’t he know? He was the Gatekeeper.”
“A Gatekeeper is only a Gatekeeper because of the power they hold. Not because they know how to pick a lock.”
I felt almost chastised by the answer but saw his point. It was no different from the Baron power. Something given over to a certain individual to wield. Without it, the concept was there, but it didn’t mean the same results would follow.
“Is there a way we could draw him forth? Or maybe one of the other Gatekeepers?” I asked.
“No.”
“But if you are everything and nothing couldn’t you do that? Couldn’t you…?”
He held up his hand.
“Do you want answers or do you want the mirror? I cannot provide you with both.”
[[Answers]]
[[The mirror]]
[[That seems like a silly ultimatum]]“I want answers,” I told him. We were walking towards the mirror. I knew I would get there. The knowledge that this man obviously held was not something I was willing to let go to waste. Especially since we were up against an almost insurmountable scenario up top. If I could at least shed light on some of what we faced, then it was well worth it.
Besides, I didn’t really see how him answering a few questions was going to hinder my progress in finding the mirror.
“You value conversation then?” He bobbed his head as he thought about this. “I do enjoy it, as well. Ask away, Wanderer. Let’s see what we can come up with.”
“The world, the Night Market, is being torn apart. We have theorized that the Gatekeeper may be able to stop it. Do you know if this is true? Are we on the right path by trying to recover the Gatekeeper?”
He hummed a little. “The Gatekeeper would be most beneficial to your plight, but the world is expansive. Once you find them, and draw out their help, the problem still remains that the world has been stretched far too thin, far too quick. Though, maybe that is not a problem to focus on until the first is fixed.”
The knowledge caused my heart to stutter, but at least I knew we were on the right track. That the Gatekeeper was our best option at fixing what was being done.
“Do you know what I have to do with any of this?” I asked him. Coincidence was starting to become a theme within my time in the market, and it was starting to become negligent to overlook it all.
“I do,” he said. “We all do. We just may not remember what we’ve been told. The Deep and the dead are fickle little things. Some information sticks. Others do not.”
A drop was before us. An empty chasm that jutted down into the dark without even the souls lightning the way any longer.
“Was I down here?” I couldn’t imagine life down in the Deep. Wandering souls with no hope of rebirth since the door had been closed. It felt like a nightmare and clawed uncomfortably at the back of my mind.
“Yes,” he answered. “Still are, in a way. A way that is other than the obvious, that is.” Small circular stones began to appear in the empty air. They bridged the gap between jutting cliff faces. Without hesitation, he began hopping from one to another.
“What does that mean?”
Turning on the last stone, he feigned falling off, but caught himself at the last minute. “It means that a soul is not a linear being by any means. We come. We go. We form into new and old. And when we get the chance to speak, we hopefully sing.”
“You are stealing time from the mirror to answer me with riddles,” I protested.
He bowed to me with a flourish. “I never said my answers would be good. You did not ask for that.”
Hopping onto the other side of the chasm, he held out his hand. I jumped, feeling my stomach drop from under me as I was airborne before my hand landed in his, and he pulled me forward.
“One more question,” he said with a grin. “Make it a good one.”
[[Why can’t I remember who I am?]]
[[Do I belong to the Night Market?]]
[[Is there a Gatekeeper up top or are they trapped down here?]]
<<set $mirror to "broken">>There was so much that felt as if it were at my fingertips. As if it were waiting for me to snatch it from the depths of this watery world. But the light of the coral was fading in my hand, Hazel was back at Anemone’s not knowing if I was dead or alive, and the entirety of the market up top was counting on me to gather the Baron's favors in order to save them.
I sighed, cursing under my breath. “The mirror,” I gritted out. It was best that we stayed the course. No matter how much it hurt to do so.
“The mirror it is,” the man grinned. “For what it is worth, you made the right choice. Not that the other choice was bad, it was just not going to be beneficial. You won’t remember a good amount of this conversation when you leave the Deep anyway.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m not entirely certain,” he mused, as if it were some great mystery to him as well. “You are not meant for so many voices. Not in the vessel you are in. So perhaps only small bits of what I say will stick since thousands are screaming at you now, but you can only process one.”
“I….”
“Ah,” he interrupted. “Choice is made. No more questions.”
[[Next|Mirror choice]]
<<set $mirror to "safe">>There was a growing sense of frustration welling inside me. This man clearly was one of the first people I had met that may actually be able to help with finding a solution to our problems. Or shed light on what was going on with me. Yet the answers was pitted against finding a silly mirror for a Baron, all, so I could gain her favor.
“We are walking towards the mirror,” I pointed out. “Why can you not answer my questions while we walk?”
“Not enough time. Answers require time, and you have to steal time in order to make time. So, if you wish to have answers, we steal time from our journey. If you wish to have the mirror, we steal time from answers. Which will it be?”
[[Split the time equally]]
[[Answers]]
[[The mirror]]I had no idea what he was talking about but as with a lot of things within the Night Market, I was almost certain I wasn’t going to get the luxury of clear and concise answers. And perhaps that was due to time, like he said. Maybe there was not enough time to steal to provide me with the clarity I needed. But a compromise. That could potentially be something that could help satisfy both my desires.
“Split the time,” I told him. “Both are equally important so let them both borrow from each other.”
If possible, his grin grew wider. “I like you. Always have.”
“So you do know me.”
A drop was before us. An empty chasm that jutted down into the dark without even the souls lighting the way any longer. “Some of us do.”
“Was I down here?” I couldn’t imagine life down in the Deep. Wandering souls with no hope of rebirth since the door had been closed. It felt like a nightmare and clawed uncomfortably at the back of my mind.
“Yes,” he answered. “Still are, in a way. A way that is other than the obvious, that is.” Small circular stones began to appear in the empty air. They bridged the gap between jutting cliff faces. Without hesitation, he began hopping from one to another.
“What does that mean?”
Turning on the last stone, he feigned falling off, but caught himself at the last minute. “It means that a soul is not a linear being by any means. We come. We go. We form into new and old. And when we get the chance to speak, we hopefully sing.”
“You are stealing time from the mirror to answer me with riddles,” I protested.
He bowed to me with a flourish. “I never said my answers would be good. You did not ask for that.”
Hopping onto the other side of the chasm, he held out his hand. I jumped, feeling my stomach drop from under me as I was airborne before my hand landed in his, and he pulled me forward.
“One more question,” he said with a grin. “Make it a good one.”
[[Why can’t I remember who I am?]]
[[Do I belong to the Night Market?]]
[[Is there a Gatekeeper up top or are they trapped down here?]]
<<set $mirror to "cracked">>I stared at him, feeling the weight of the last moment settle against my lips. “Why can’t I remember who I am?”
He smiled sadly at me. “It’s purposeful, my friend. Because you wouldn’t be able to handle everything you know.”
<<if $mirror == "safe">> It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes and as I bent down to gather my prize in my hands, I thought I saw them all scatter. Life, running from life.
The mirror itself was dirty but remarkable whole. The surface was smudged with salt, bits of barnacle clinging to the reflective glass. It was a solid weight in my hand and sang with the life that was swimming within the tubes. <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven with what used to be hollow tubes. They were shattered now. Nothing more than jagged bits of fragile glass tinged with something green and foul.
The mirror itself though was cracked. The surface cut through without even a fractal reflective image. Only the body of the hand mirror remained. <<elseif $mirror == "cracked">>It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes and as I bent down to gather my prize in my hands, I thought I saw them all scatter. Life, running from life.
The mirror itself was cracked. The surface cut through without even a fractal reflective image. Only the body of the hand mirror remained untarnished. The life that I could see swimming through its veins was listless with each passing moment.<</if>>
When I looked up, my guide was gone. I whipped my head back and forth, searching for him but finding no sign of where he once stood. Instead, there was only a faint trail of glowing light, flowing from my feet in a river towards a jut of rock. My face twisted in confusion as I tucked the mirror a little closer to me. I knew I should follow the light, that instinctively, it would take me home, but something felt off. Like I wasn’t remembering the things I should. Had the man in the dark said something important? Did he say anything at all? Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t even remember his words. They were a shadowy mass that edged around my mind until it slipped away, settling back down into the Deep.
None of it mattered.
The way home was clear, and my feet ended up carrying me forward almost without thought.
Stone steps were embedded into the cliffside, lit through with a soft white glow. Tucking the mirror close, I ventured upwards, my head muzzy, but successful. I had gained the mirror. There was nothing left to do down here. It was time to finally go home.
[[Next|The palace]]I stared at him, feeling the weight of the last moment settle against my lips. “Do I belong to the Night Market?”
He grinned widely at me. “You belong to you.”
<<if $mirror == "safe">> It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes and as I bent down to gather my prize in my hands, I thought I saw them all scatter. Life, running from life.
The mirror itself was dirty but remarkable whole. The surface was smudged with salt, bits of barnacle clinging to the reflective glass. It was a solid weight in my hand and sang with the life that was swimming within the tubes. <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven with what used to be hollow tubes. They were shattered now. Nothing more than jagged bits of fragile glass tinged with something green and foul.
The mirror itself though was cracked. The surface cut through without even a fractal reflective image. Only the body of the hand mirror remained. <<elseif $mirror == "cracked">>It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes and as I bent down to gather my prize in my hands, I thought I saw them all scatter. Life, running from life.
The mirror itself was cracked. The surface cut through without even a fractal reflective image. Only the body of the hand mirror remained untarnished. The life that I could see swimming through its veins was listless with each passing moment.<</if>>
When I looked up, my guide was gone. I whipped my head back and forth, searching for him but finding no sign of where he once stood. Instead, there was only a faint trail of glowing light, flowing from my feet in a river towards a jut of rock. My face twisted in confusion as I tucked the mirror a little closer to me. I knew I should follow the light, that instinctively, it would take me home, but something felt off. Like I wasn’t remembering the things I should. Had the man in the dark said something important? Did he say anything at all? Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t even remember his words. They were a shadowy mass that edged around my mind until it slipped away, settling back down into the Deep.
None of it mattered.
The way home was clear, and my feet ended up carrying me forward almost without thought.
Stone steps were embedded into the cliffside, lit through with a soft white glow. Tucking the mirror close, I ventured upwards, my head muzzy, but successful. I had gained the mirror. There was nothing left to do down here. It was time to finally go home.
[[Next|The palace]]I stared at him, feeling the weight of the last moment settle against my lips. “Is the Gatekeeper we seek trapped down here or are they up top with us?”
“They are up top. And they know who they are.”
A mirror fell at my feet.
<<if $mirror == "safe">> It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes and as I bent down to gather my prize in my hands, I thought I saw them all scatter. Life, running from life.
The mirror itself was dirty but remarkable whole. The surface was smudged with salt, bits of barnacle clinging to the reflective glass. It was a solid weight in my hand and sang with the life that was swimming within the tubes. <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven with what used to be hollow tubes. They were shattered now. Nothing more than jagged bits of fragile glass tinged with something green and foul.
The mirror itself though was cracked. The surface cut through without even a fractal reflective image. Only the body of the hand mirror remained. <<elseif $mirror == "cracked">>It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes and as I bent down to gather my prize in my hands, I thought I saw them all scatter. Life, running from life.
The mirror itself was cracked. The surface cut through without even a fractal reflective image. Only the body of the hand mirror remained untarnished. The life that I could see swimming through its veins was listless with each passing moment.<</if>>
When I looked up, my guide was gone. I whipped my head back and forth, searching for him but finding no sign of where he once stood. Instead, there was only a faint trail of glowing light, flowing from my feet in a river towards a jut of rock. My face twisted in confusion as I tucked the mirror a little closer to me. I knew I should follow the light, that instinctively, it would take me home, but something felt off. Like I wasn’t remembering the things I should. Had the man in the dark said something important? Did he say anything at all? Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t even remember his words. They were a shadowy mass that edged around my mind until it slipped away, settling back down into the Deep.
None of it mattered.
The way home was clear, and my feet ended up carrying me forward almost without thought.
Stone steps were embedded into the cliffside, lit through with a soft white glow. Tucking the mirror close, I ventured upwards, my head muzzy, but successful. I had gained the mirror. There was nothing left to do down here. It was time to finally go home.
[[Next|The palace]]We continued to walk in somewhat silence. Occasionally, an off tune hum escaped my guide's lips, but it was nothing more than broken notes that were abruptly cut off as another tune took its place. He led me to a drop. An empty chasm that jutted down into the dark without even the souls lightning the way any longer. It was clear there was no way I would have been able to make it here on my own. I wasn’t sure why the Baron had even thought this was a mission I could do. Part of me suspected that this so-called mirror was nothing to begin with.
Small circular stones began to appear in the empty air. They bridged the gap between jutting cliff faces. Without hesitation, he began hopping from one to another. He looked over my shoulder and gestured for me to follow and because I didn’t know what else to do, I did. It felt significant somehow.
As if it were a metaphor for the life I was living. I didn’t know what else to do, so I followed.
In the beginning, that had been okay. When my head was still righting itself and the world was fresh and new, it was a parameter I craved. Now, however, it sat against me at an odd angle, and I wasn’t sure how I could make this journey my own any longer.
Turning on the last stone, he feigned falling off, but caught himself at the last minute. “Deep thoughts are swirling,” he sang to me.
“I just want to get home,” I told him. I didn’t dare look at the coral. Not yet.
Hopping onto the other side of the chasm, he held out his hand. I jumped, feeling my stomach drop from under me as I was airborne before my hand landed in his, and he puled me forward.
“You are home,” he whispered. “You just have to make your space more comfortable now.”
I looked at him, my brow furrowed, but I didn’t get a chance to ponder his words for long. Because something heavy knocked against the toes of my shoes. Looking down, I saw a mirror.
[[Next|Mirror choice 2]]
<<set $mirror to "safe">>It was a hand mirror. It hit the ground with a thunk, settling at my feet and sending bits of sand scattering. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes and as I bent down to gather my prize in my hands, I thought I saw them all scatter. Life, running from life.
The mirror itself was dirty but remarkable whole. The surface was smudged with salt, bits of barnacle clinging to the reflective glass. It was a solid weight in my hand and sang with the life that was swimming within the tubes.
When I looked up, my guide was gone. I whipped my head back and forth, searching for him but finding no sign of where he once stood. Instead, there was only a faint trail of glowing light, flowing from my feet in a river towards a jut of rock. My face twisted in confusion as I tucked the mirror a little closer to me. I knew I should follow the light, that instinctively, it would take me home, but something felt off. Like I wasn’t remembering the things I should. Had the man in the dark said something important? Did he say anything at all? Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t even remember his words. They were a shadowy mass that edged around my mind until it slipped away, settling back down into the Deep.
None of it mattered.
The way home was clear, and my feet ended up carrying me forward almost without thought.
Stone steps were embedded into the cliffside, lit through with a soft white glow. Tucking the mirror close, I ventured upwards, my head muzzy, but successful. I had gained the mirror. There was nothing left to do down here. It was time to finally go home.
[[Next|The palace]]Standing there, it was entirely clear that I had not been prepared for this. Coming down to the Deep with Hazel was one thing but diving into a well within the Baron’s inner sanctum, an entirely different one. I could almost see the disappointment on Gabriel’s face. I was certain his eyes would be pinched and lips thin. Somehow, this felt like the exact thing he had warned me not to do.
Clutching the small dagger I had, I ventured forward. Staying in one place was certainly not going to find me the mirror and with the lack of, well, anything around me, I didn’t know how much I could really piece together into a useful plan of action. But with the fading coral there wasn’t an option to think too thoroughly of my actions, and it was doubtful I was a strong enough swimmer to make it back up to Anemone’s kelp forest. If that was even possible.
My feet carried me forward into the silence, the surrounding air a dull roar of the ocean. Deep moaning calls sounded somewhere far off in the dark, but I imagined if I were upon those creatures, it would be loud enough to rumble the earth below. Small shafts of light appeared beneath my feet, dissipating with each step I took. It was not enough to light up the world around me in brief flashes of a diffused glow. It was enough to keep me from stumbling too much but not enough to allow me to peer into the depths of the ocean around me.
I didn’t know how long I walked in the dark. In one hand I clutched my dagger, the other the bit of coral I knew was going to go out before I could find dry land again. The rumbling was getting louder though, shaking the surrounding water in a rough wave that had me struggling to stay on my feet.
Looking upwards, I knew it was coming from a small ledge jutting from the face of a rock wall. I could see just the barest outline there as pebbles began falling from above in puffs of white-hot breath. Approaching the cliff face, I looked at it, holding my breath.
[[You are not a good climber]]
[[You are a good climber|Chapter Seven you are a good climber]]Small grooves were inlaid into the rock, giving me something to grip. I planted my feet within one and my hands within two others after making sure the dagger was strapped securely to my hip and the coral deep in my pocket. With a deep breath, I began to climb. The stone beneath me felt like wet chalk and came away in chunks in certain areas. It left me sliding down the surface, a river of broken gravel running down alongside me. I could feel my palms become slick with blood, but I gritted my teeth as I continued to pull myself upwards. I had to make it. There was no room for failure.
But I couldn’t remember climbing a day in my life. And as my foot slipped for the dozenth time, it was clear I was not going to be making it. Tumbling back from the cliff surface I began to fall, a scream coming unbidden to my lips. Something sharp curled around my shoulder though, yanking me backwards right before I hit the ground below. Flung to the flat of my back, I blinked, looking upwards.
A pair of ultraviolet eyes stared down at me and the puff of a dragon's breath burned across my skin.
"If you were going to try and sneak up on me," the creature rumbled. "You should have been a bit quieter. Or taken the side path."
[[Try to stab it]]
[[Try to run from it]]
[[Try to talk to it]]Small grooves were inlaid into the rock, giving me something to grip. I planted my feet within one and my hands within two others after making sure the dagger was strapped securely to my hip and the coral deep in my pocket. With a deep breath, I began to climb. The stone beneath me felt like wet chalk and came away in chunks in certain areas. I could feel my grip slip occasionally but curled my fingers in, digging my nails into the chalky surface in order to pull myself up. Slowly, I began making my way up the cliffside, hearing the rumble above get louder and louder.
When my hand slapped across the surface of the platform, I felt something roll beneath my palm. It was hard and jagged and as I scrambled forward, I squinted to see just what my surroundings contained.
Bones littered the ground, picked clean of flesh and piled in small corners. They were bleached white. New. The fading color of some that tipped into a soft brown were covered in barnacles and crystallized juts of sea. Standing with my heels at the edge of the cliff, I stared at the different limbs scattered before me. They must have belonged to dozens of bodies. All of which had met their end here, at the maw of the sleeping dragon that sat at the open mouth of the cave.
The dragon itself was white, blending into the sand, curled hairs floating in the water around them. Its scales were translucent, showcasing a beating heart within its chest that swirled in gold. Near its extended claws, sat an overturned cart where the freshest of bones looked as if they were centered around. And there, among the wreckage, was a box overflowing with jewels. They dotted the sand in flecks of ruby and sapphire and as my eyes continued to adjust, I saw the Baron's insignia on the side of the cart. The clamshells that I had seen over the entrance to the palace were burned upon the metal of the overturned chest as well.
“Shit,” I muttered.
[[Rummage through the wreckage quietly for the mirror]]
[[Wake the dragon and try to get it to fly into the dark]]
Creeping forward, I tried to make myself as quiet as possible, knowing that one small misstep would wake the sleeping beast. But the closer I got, the more it became clear that what I sought, was going to be nearly impossible to find. Mirrors were everywhere. Reflections of my tired and weary face swam back and me through gilded frames and shell encrusted glass. Even if I had any idea of what this mirror looked like, there was little to no way I was going to find it without extreme luck on my side.
So now I was stuck, without the prospect of achieving my goal, and no way home. And in my pocket, I could feel the coral gutter out.
Behind me the dragon shifted, sending a pile of coin skittering over the cliff side. I twisted, trying to run or hide, but one meaty claw came down upon me, pinning me to the ground.
When the curled talons wrapped around my wrist and my blade went skittering to the side, I felt my world freeze. Beneath me, a sharp jut of rock stabbed into my hip while the claws at my arm began to sink into my skin. The hot burst of blood washed over me, soaking the sand below and while a scream was ready in my throat I could do nothing but stare up at the creature with wet and terror filled eyes.
“I was sleeping,” it said through a pointed set of red tinted teeth. Its glowing gaze was murky as if it had just been in a deep sleep. Tear tracks were embedded down their scales as if sorrow was a mask they could not rid themselves of.
Some part of me said to feel sorry for this creature, stuck down here alone. But the other part of me screamed for survival. With my free arm, I reached out, grabbing a stone as the dragon loomed close to my face. I slammed it against the side of the creature's head, the stone raining down on me in an array of sandstone pebbles and dust.
When the dragon roared I shuddered, twisting my face away and feeling the spray from its lips coat my chest and face. Off in the distance I was briefly aware of a glowing light and all I could think was that the angler fish would come. They would help me somehow. But as I was lifted into the air, a meaty claw now wrapped around my neck, I kicked and tried to fight, clawing at the leathery scales beneath me. The dragon flung me at the cave wall and I hit it with a smack that punched the breath right out of me.
The last thing I heard before falling under, was the dragon roaring in pain.
[[Next|Chapter seven saved by spirits]]Finding a place to hide, I crouched down behind the biggest pile of bones I could. The dragon had yet to wake, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to discover what they were like when they would. The horde they had placed close had to be where the mirror was being kept but if I got near it, I knew without a doubt the creature would hear me. I didn’t think I was sneaky on the best of days. And today was certainly not one of my better days.
Situating myself behind the bones, I made myself as small as possible before reaching out and kicking another pile. They skirted off the side of the cliff with a loud scrape and tumble before falling into the water and the gapping chasm below. Behind me, I could hear the dragon stir and from my vantage point, saw it pull back one long claw.
When the dragon stood, I tried to hide further into the dark, feeling the rumble beneath me as it began looking around. As it took flight, several more piles of bones fell. I didn’t dare to even breath until the beating of its wings through the thick of the water were no more.
Quickly, I scrambled around to the front and began looking through the wreckage. There were several large mirrors and no way to tell which one the Baron had actually wanted. A broken sound burst from my throat as I looked at my reflection upon dozens of surfaces. Gilded panes of glass along with broken hand mirrors and several large reflective boxes were all among the gold and strings of pearl. Any of them could have been the Baron’s.
My heart clenched in my chest at the realization that I was not going to be getting out of here. Not with a mirror at least. I had been stupid. So very stupid. Jumping down without any sort of knowledge of where I should go, how to track the mirror or what the mirror even looked like. I never should have gone down here. I should have gone o the others. My actions spoke far too clearly of just how out of touch I was to the world around me.
The beating of the wings sounded behind me once more, the brief distraction that I had managed not having been enough to keep the dragon away for long. With one last longing look at the pile of treasure, I had to make a decision. Because if I stayed where I was, I would die.
[[Run from the returning dragon|Try to run from it]]
[[Hide from the returning dragon]]Grabbing at the knife at my hip, I jerked it forward, slashing at the beast. The blade cut through the now blue shifting scales on its chest, but the dragon merely looked at me like I had scratched it. With claws on either side of my head, it leaned down, breath washing over me in a low thrum. Wildly, I slashed out again, stabbing blindly at the creature before me all the while aware that my blade was going to be ineffective against a thing like this.
“Why do you all do this?” the dragon sighed in irritation.
When the curled talons wrapped around my wrist and my blade went skittering to the side, I felt my world freeze. Beneath me, a sharp jut of rock stabbed into my hip while the claws at my arm began to sink into my skin. The hot burst of blood washed over me, soaking the sand below and while a scream was ready in my throat I could do nothing but stare up at the creature with wet and terror filled eyes.
“I was sleeping,” it said through a pointed set of red tinted teeth. Its glowing gaze was murky as if it had just been in a deep sleep. Tear tracks were embedded down their scales as if sorrow was a mask they could not rid themselves of.
Some part of me said to feel sorry for this creature, stuck down here alone. But the other part of me screamed for survival. With my free arm, I reached out, grabbing a stone as the dragon loomed close to my face. I slammed it against the side of the creature's head, the stone raining down on me in an array of sandstone pebbles and dust.
When the dragon roared I shuddered, twisting my face away and feeling the spray from its lips coat my chest and face. Off in the distance I was briefly aware of a glowing light and all I could think was that the angler fish would come. They would help me somehow. But as I was lifted into the air, a meaty claw now wrapped around my neck, I kicked and tried to fight, clawing at the leathery scales beneath me. The dragon flung me at the cave wall and I hit it with a smack that punched the breath right out of me.
The last thing I heard before falling under, was the dragon roaring in pain.
[[Next|Chapter seven saved by spirits]]Rolling to the side, I tried to run away. To scramble back down the cliff or find a passage downwards of some sort. The sand beneath me was loose and coated with fine jewels and rounded pearls and my feet skidded against it, struggling to find purchase. Not that it mattered. I screamed as the dragon batted me to the side, knocking me downwards and flipping me on my back. It pinned me beneath them, its fetid breath hot against my face and the only thing filling my vision was its glowing eyes.
“Why do you all do this?” the dragon sighed in irritation.
When the curled talons wrapped around my wrist and my blade went skittering to the side, I felt my world freeze. Beneath me, a sharp jut of rock stabbed into my hip while the claws at my arm began to sink into my skin. The hot burst of blood washed over me, soaking the sand below and while a scream was ready in my throat I could do nothing but stare up at the creature with wet and terror filled eyes.
“I was sleeping,” it said through a pointed set of red tinted teeth. Its glowing gaze was murky as if it had just been in a deep sleep. Tear tracks were embedded down their scales as if sorrow was a mask they could not rid themselves of.
Some part of me said to feel sorry for this creature, stuck down here alone. But the other part of me screamed for survival. With my free arm, I reached out, grabbing a stone as the dragon loomed close to my face. I slammed it against the side of the creature's head, the stone raining down on me in an array of sandstone pebbles and dust.
When the dragon roared I shuddered, twisting my face away and feeling the spray from its lips coat my chest and face. Off in the distance I was briefly aware of a glowing light and all I could think was that the angler fish would come. They would help me somehow. But as I was lifted into the air, a meaty claw now wrapped around my neck, I kicked and tried to fight, clawing at the leathery scales beneath me. The dragon flung me at the cave wall and I hit it with a smack that punched the breath right out of me.
The last thing I heard before falling under, was the dragon roaring in pain.
[[Next|Chapter seven saved by spirits]]I lay as still as I could beneath where the dragon pinned me, trying to keep myself calm and from acting rashly.
“I don’t mean you any harm,” I told the dragon. There was a snort where a curl of blue smoke rose from their nostril. “I’m serious. I couldn’t take you in a fight. We both know this.”
“At least you speak some truth,” the dragon rumbled. “Why are you here? I was sleeping,” they spoke through a pointed set of red tinted teeth. Their glowing gaze was murky as if they had just been in a deep sleep. Tear tracks were embedded down their scales as if sorrow was a mask they could not rid themselves of.
Some part of me said to feel sorry for this creature, stuck down here alone. Loneliness felt like a heavy shroud, pressing further and further down onto this part of the world.
[[I’m here for a mirror]]
[[I was here for a mirror but now I just want to find a way home]]
[[I have no idea|Chapter Seven I have no idea]]
Lights danced above me. Blue and green orbs shifting in a whisper. For a moment, I was home. The weightlessness surrounding me lifting me up into nothing. I felt free and secure. Like the world around me was wrapping me in one big embrace.
//Hurt//
//Help//
//Don’t let them go//
I hear the words. Felt them sink into my bone and give me form. They brushed across growing skin and knitted wounds. But when I tried to find the source of it all, I couldn’t see. My mind didn’t want to. Sleep sounded far better. The blissful slide into an altered state where the world was nothing more than a soft pillow and an endless sigh.
//Wake up//
I frowned, feeling my body rock.
//Wake up//
I didn’t want to though. My body knew no pain. It felt as if it was sinking into itself for the first time. Belonging. Casting aside the sharp edge of uncertainty that had haunted me until this point.
//WAKE UP//
My eyes snapped open, breath being forced back into my lungs. Tiny, doll like faces stared back at me, their eyes black beads. The curl of their limbs unnatural. They flickered, shifting from humanoid smears across my vision to the soft dim of a light. Lifting my hand, I tried to touch one, but felt the pain ricochet up my spine.
[[Where am I?|Spirit kin]]
[[Who are you?|Spirit kin]]
[[What happened?|Spirit kin]]
<<set $mirror to "none">>
<<set $deepwounds to "true">>
<<set $chapterseven to "dragon">>Frantically, I looked for a place to hide, trying to duck behind piles of shining gold and overturned chests filled with precious gems. But my feet skidded over the loose bits of treasure, sending more of them skittering over the side of the cliff. The dragon landed behind me with a thick beat of their wings, knocking me to the ground and pinning me there with one meaty claw. I tried twisting out of the way. Tried to fight. But my knife had fallen off the makeshift hilt I had it in and it was now far from my reach.
Beneath me, a sharp jut of rock stabbed into my hip while the claws at my arm began to sink into my skin. The hot burst of blood washed over me, soaking the sand below and while a scream was ready in my throat I could do nothing but stare up at the creature with wet and terror filled eyes.
When the dragon roared I shuddered, twisting my face away and feeling the spray from its lips coat my chest and face. Off in the distance I was briefly aware of a glowing light and all I could think was that the angler fish would come. They would help me somehow. But as I was lifted into the air, a meaty claw now wrapped around my neck, I kicked and tried to fight, clawing at the leathery scales beneath me. The dragon flung me at the cave wall and I hit it with a smack that punched the breath right out of me.
The last thing I heard before falling under, was the dragon roaring in pain.
[[Next|Chapter seven saved by spirits]]
I needed help. Everything that I had been told about the Deep rang in my head, but I knew that their warnings would mean nothing if I did not return from here. Listening for any other sign of life, I squinted into the dark. I could hear things moving through the water. Big things. The occasional scuttle of a crab, but nothing that felt as if it would hold my hand through this process. Or even greet me kindly.
Then again, I would never know what was out there unless I called out to the dark and saw if they answered back.
“Hello?” My voice echoed in such a way that suggested I was in a chamber. My heart ratcheted up a few notches at the idea. For whatever reason, being deep beneath a structure felt far more precarious than just sinking to the bottom of the sea. “Is anyone out there?”
The ground beneath me began to shift.
I stumbled backwards, knowing I had nowhere to go, but watching as the very land I had been standing upon began to twist and writhe. Nearly falling to the side, I looked on as a large curled body began to form, a rising plume of dust twisting in front of me. A long, angular face peered out from a sandy cloud, ultraviolet slit eyes set just above a scaled snout. Its body shifted from the white and grey pebbles I had been standing upon to a deep, shifting blue. Each scale shimmered, small claw like appendages digging into the sand below as it rose to a crouching height. The creature had the body of a snake and wings that webbed into scales all down its back before lining a twitching tail.
“Hello.” My lips had gone dry, and my eyes were wide as I stared down the massive beast.
Its mouth didn’t move, but the voice echoed in my head. I couldn’t tell if it was male or female, just that it was. It was every voice of the creatures that came before it and what would come from far beyond its death. I fought the urge to back away or flinch at the sound. I needed this creature's help and didn’t wish to offend it by showing fear at the mere sight of its greeting.
“You do not belong here,” the creature said.
“I don’t.” At least he and I could see eye to eye on that. “I was sent down here by the Baron of the Deep. A possession of hers was stolen. I’m supposed to get it back.”
“What is lost to the Deep stays within the Deep,” the creature rumbled. There was a sadness to his words. Tear tracks were embedded in his scales as if he wore a mask of constant sorrow. “If Baron Kamille was fool enough to lose something then it is her loss and no one else's concern.
[[Please. I do need help. I promised to get it for her]]
[[I do not mean to make it your concern. Only try to find a direction in which to walk]]
[[That is selfish logic]] “Please. I need your help.” I was fully aware that I was pleading with not only a stranger, but a creature unlike any I had ever seen. One who spent their day beneath the sand napping while people like me stumbled across them without care. “I promised I would get this back for the Baron. It’s very important that I do.”
The beast rose to their feet and nearly rolled their eyes at me. Their movements were slow with the last remnants of sleep still. Bored like. Without another word, they turned, ambling away. Given that they were the only creature I had met down here so far, and I didn’t want to take my chances with the angler fish, I knew I needed to follow. Dodging their tail, I hurried after them, their long strides taking them across the bottom of the ocean with ease.
“If you could just point me in the right direction. Maybe you saw something? Or maybe there is a road you could take me to?”
The huff of breath that escaped them displayed the earth beneath its talons, revealing a smooth cut of glass that clinked as the dragon clacked its claws.
But again, they said nothing.
“Please,” I tried one more time. “I just need to know where a group of fishmongers has gone. They have a mirror and…”
“Do you even know what a fishmonger is?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t.” A group of some sort of fish people was all I really had thought of.I was also desperately hoping they had some sort of sign proclaiming who they were.
“It’s an insult,” the creature said. “A term for land walkers that stink of chum. The Baron sent you down here after a group of thieves. The likes of which resemble you more than me.”
I blinked. “You’ve seen them then?” And it was there that a glimmer of hope came back in my line of sight. Something to go off of instead of the never ending darkness I had sunk within.
The creature sighed tiredly, lowering its head. “They walked on my back.”
[[Is there something I can do in exchange for your help?]]
[[I’m going to have to continue to bother you until you tell me which way they went]]
[[If you can help me find them, I can make sure they never step on your back again]]“And I really don’t mean to make it any of your concern,” I scrambled. By now, the dragon-like creature had risen to their feet and began meandering away from me. Their lithe body turned through the water, tail nearly knocking me sideways as they began ambling into the dark unknown. I wasn’t going to let the only opportunity I had been presented with walk away, however, and continued to follow them, my gut twisting in unease.
“I just need to find a direction in which to walk,” I tried telling the dragon. “You look as if you are familiar with the area. If you have seen anything, I could use your help. Information is all I seek. Nothing more. I do not wish to take up your time.”
The huff of breath that poured from its snout was laced with a fine sheen of aqua shimmer, the likes of which mixed in with the graying sand.
“What are you looking for again?” While it did not stop its journey beyond the small patch we had started on, it did at least seem to be a slight bit more amenable at the moment.
“Fishmongers,” I replied. “They took a mirror and I need to get it back.”
The dragon snorted again, this time in a mirthless grunt of laughter.
“Do you even know what a fishmonger is?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t.” A group of some sort of fish people was all I really had thought of.I was also desperately hoping they had some sort of sign proclaiming who they were.
“It’s an insult,” the creature said. “A term for land walkers that stink of chum. The Baron sent you down here after a group of thieves. The likes of which resemble you more than me.”
I blinked. “You’ve seen them then?” And it was there that a glimmer of hope came back in my line of sight. Something to go off of instead of the never ending darkness I had sunk within.
The creature sighed tiredly, lowering its head. “They walked on my back.”
[[Is there something I can do in exchange for your help?]]
[[I’m going to have to continue to bother you until you tell me which way they went]]
[[If you can help me find them, I can make sure they never step on your back again]]“That is selfish logic,” I bravely said. “If everyone thought that way then it would be a far lonelier world than it is now.” The creatures moved towards me, their snout nearly touching my nose as it hovered in the water. I felt my muscles tense as their breath puffed in my face.
“Move along, landwalker,” they growled. “There is no place for you among our kind.” With a jerk, they turned to walk away, their tail nearly sending me careening into the dark.
“I can’t,” I said, taking a deep breath. I began following after them as they ambled away from where they had been resting. There was something freeing when presented with the knowledge that I was going to die anyway if I didn’t start making some tough decisions. “A mirror was stolen by a group of fishmongers. I need to get it back.”
“Do you even know what a fishmonger is?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t.” A group of some sort of fish people was all I really had thought of.I was also desperately hoping they had some sort of sign proclaiming who they were.
“It’s an insult,” the creature said. “A term for land walkers that stink of chum. The Baron sent you down here after a group of thieves. The likes of which resemble you more than me.”
I blinked. “You’ve seen them then?” And it was there that a glimmer of hope came back in my line of sight. Something to go off of instead of the never ending darkness I had sunk within.
The creature sighed tiredly, lowering its head. “They walked on my back.”
[[Is there something I can do in exchange for your help?]]
[[I’m going to have to continue to bother you until you tell me which way they went]]
[[If you can help me find them, I can make sure they never step on your back again]]Scurrying, I rounded on the dragon, coming to face them as we continued to walk. “I’m going to have to continue to bother you until you tell me which way they went,” I said. I hoped my words sounded braver than I felt. For at that moment, I was almost certain that these would be my final moments. But I had glimpsed the coral. It was rapidly fading. I didn’t want to know what would happen if it died before I could get out.
“I’ll simply kill you,” the creature said in boredom.
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “But then people will just keep coming. I have friends up top, and they will have to come down here to try and retrieve my body. That means more and more people walking on your back. Disturbing your sleep.” My heart slammed against my chest as I held my breath, looking at the creature with defiance.
It stopped. I stood before it, watching as it dug its hind legs into the sand, observing me like an annoying bug that was now in its way. I did not move though. I didn’t balk. I had to get this damn mirror.
With a snorted huff, they rolled their eyes. “Fine.” Leaning down to rest their chin on a taloned claw, they settled in. Their eyes, already drooping. “Follow the cart tracks. They are likely to try and make their way back to the mainlands to smuggle passage up to the top. If they do not have a boat waiting for them already.”
Looking at where he directed, I could see the deep grooves not only in the sand but whatever lay beneath. Now that I had my eyes on them, they were hard to miss. I didn’t know how much of a head start they had on me, but if the dragon was right, and they were trying to get to the mainland, then at least I could navigate myself back to Anemone’s shop. From there, I could backtrack, perhaps contact Gabriel, get actual help for this fool's mission that I had sent myself on.
Turning to the dragon, I nodded to them. “Thank you,” I said quickly. I didn’t wait for his answer or to see if he followed. I hoped he simply went back to sleep. Either way, I took off into the dark.
[[Next|Chapter Seven 3]]
Scurrying, I rounded on the dragon, coming to face them as we continued to walk. “If you can help me find them,” I said, “maybe I can make sure they never step on your back again.” It was a ridiculous thing to promise given that I had only a knife in my hands and no desire to kill petty thieves. But if the empty promise still got me to the mirror, it was worth the dangerous game I was playing.
I was unsure the dragon even believed me though, as I looked into his eyes. He only looked amused by my bold statement.
Stopping, they dug their hind legs into the sand beneath us, a long scratch of talon against glass echoing through the murk of the water. “How do you intend to wrangle the mirror from them when you find them?” The creature was settling in now, his large head balanced on tiny claws as it regarded me carefully. “You look defenseless.”
“I have my ways,” I told them, sticking to my lie. I really didn’t think there was much more I could do. “You say they were landwalkers like me. If I’m smart about this, I could take them. If they were something more akin to you, I doubt I would stand a chance.
The creature laughed, eyes dancing. “Flattery gets you everywhere,” they said. Then, with one extended claw, they pointed to faint lines in the dark. “Follow the cart tracks. They are likely to try and make their way back to the mainlands to smuggle passage up to the top. If they do not have a boat waiting for them already.”
Looking at where he directed, I could see the deep grooves not only in the sand but whatever lay beneath. Now that I had my eyes on them, they were hard to miss. I didn’t know how much of a head start they had on me, but if the dragon was right, and they were trying to get to the mainland, then at least I could navigate myself back to Anemone’s shop. From there, I could backtrack, perhaps contact Gabriel, get actual help for this fool's mission that I had sent myself on.
Turning to the dragon, I nodded to them. “Thank you,” I said quickly. I didn’t wait for his answer or to see if he followed. I hoped he simply went back to sleep. Either way, I took off into the dark.
[[Next|Chapter Seven 3]]
Scurrying, I rounded on the dragon, coming to face them as we continued to walk. “Is there something I can do in exchange for your help?” I asked, trying to keep up. It was another blatant deal, but I suddenly realized it was perhaps my only course of bargaining.
“Go away,” they suggested.
“I will. In exchange for help I will leave you alone.” Swallowing thickly, I tried to make them see reason. “Please. If I don’t get back this mirror I will never get the favor of the Baron and then bad things are going to start happening to this world.”
The dragon stopped. I wasn’t sure if it was because of what I said or because of the promise that I would leave if it managed to help me. They dug their hind legs into the sand and tipped their body forward, resting a snout on one curled claw.
“What kind of things?”
“World ending things,” I told him honestly. I saw something flicker in his gaze. “If you have anyone you love here, they will not last. Family. Friends.” I was desperate to appeal to some sort of empathy.
The dragon snorted in irritation, blue fire dancing across the sand. “Follow the cart tracks. They are likely to try and make their way back to the mainlands to smuggle passage up to the top. If they do not have a boat waiting for them already.”
Looking at where he directed, I could see the deep grooves not only in the sand but whatever lay beneath. Now that I had my eyes on them, they were hard to miss. I didn’t know how much of a head start they had on me, but if the dragon was right, and they were trying to get to the mainland, then at least I could navigate myself back to Anemone’s shop. From there, I could backtrack, perhaps contact Gabriel, get actual help for this fool's mission that I had sent myself on.
Turning to the dragon, I nodded to them. “Thank you,” I said quickly. I didn’t wait for his answer or to see if he followed. I hoped he simply went back to sleep. Either way, I took off into the dark.
[[Next|Chapter Seven 3]]
The cart tracks in question were deep grooves into the displaced sand allowing me to see the floor beneath the broken pebbles and rock. It was made of smooth glass, opaque with something glowing just beneath the surface. A bright white light shone beneath the warbled barrier, pulsing with each step I took. When looked at it directly, the luminosity not diffused by the sand was nearly blinding. Only with a layer of sediment over top, was it more manageable. I left a fading trail of footsteps behind me, each shoe print outlined in fading white. There was a small bit of comfort that if anyone was trying to find me, they could maybe follow the trail.
As I ran along the tracks I did my best to keep quiet. Two thin wheeled lines swerved back and forth like its load was unmanageable. I wondered how much they had stolen from the Baron and why a mirror, of all things, was what she desired back. But as I came to the end of the tracks, I stopped. Looking around, there was nothing but a sheer cliff face, stretching up towards the angler fish above and a drop-down into the ocean marina where I didn’t think anything returned.
“Now what?” I muttered.
[[Search the base of the cliff]]
[[Look for a way to climb up]]I began searching the base of the cliff for more tracks when something hit me. A cracked pearl. The kind that I had seen embedded within Lady Kamille’s chambers. Looking up, I saw it. An overturned cart right on the jutting surface of an oversized barnacle. Next to it, a humanoid hand hanging over the side.
The thought of needing to climb up there twisted in my belly, and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to scale something so massive. But I knew without a doubt that the mirror was up there. But along with it, was clearly something else. As several more pearls rained down around me there was little doubt in my mind. I was not alone.
Running my fingers along the surface of the cliff, I tried to see if there was an easy way up. The cart, after all, had to have made it up there somewhere. It was hidden around the corner and nearly lost in the shadows, but I did see a faint trail. The cart tracks were not there but the massive clawed feet of some creature, most definitely was.
Quietly, I made my way upwards, winding through a high arcing tunnel that looked as if it had been carved out by hand. When I emerged from its depth, I felt my stomach plummet.
There before me was the dragon from earlier. He was lying supine, using a finger bone to pick his teeth.
“You killed them,” I said softly.
“I did.” The only way I could describe the smile they gave me was a pleased leer.
As I stood there before this thing, my hands shook in balled rage and my stomach tightened. My legs ached for how far I had walked. My shoes were filled with sand and I didn’t know if my heart would ever return to normal. This thing, however, had simply been miffed that it had been woken up.
“Why make me do this then?” I asked. “Why make me go through the trouble?”
The dragon shrugged. “You never asked if I had killed them. Just where they were.”
I squared off with the creature, all too aware of the reaper in which I stared down. It had wiped out dozens of these thieves with barely a thought and then lead me on a dangerous chase after them when all along, it was clearly waiting to see if I was clever enough to even arrive.
[[Are you going to kill me?|Chapter seven are you going to kill me]]
[[I would like that mirror now]]
[[I thought this wasn’t something to concern yourself with]]There had to be a way to get up the side of the cliff. Hand holds or some way to allow me to safely scale it. The jutting platform was not too far up and the hand that lay over the side looked as if it were offering me a boost. Running my hands across the slick surface, I felt around for any sort of indent. When I found a few close together, I held my breath and said a silent prayer to the Night Market.
Slowly, I began to pull myself upwards.
Rock crumbled beneath my feet, causing me to lose my footing more than once but I grit my teeth as my hands became scraped and raw. The mirror was just up top. I knew it. There was a possibility that this endless dark would be over soon. If I could only get up to the other side. But when my hands slipped once more and the world gave out from under me, a scream ripped from my throat.
That is, until a taloned claw snagged onto the collar of my shirt.
I was raised upwards through the water and set gently on the platform edge. An overturned cart was nearby, jewels and boxes filled with precious gems, littering the expanse before me. And there, among it all, was the dragon from before. He lay supine, using a finger bone to pick at his teeth.
“You killed them,” I said softly.
“I did.” The only way I could describe the smile they gave me was a pleased leer.
As I stood there before this thing, my hands shook in balled rage and my stomach tightened. My legs ached for how far I had walked. My shoes were filled with sand and I didn’t know if my heart would ever return to normal. This thing, however, had simply been miffed that it had been woken up.
“Why make me do this then?” I asked. “Why make me go through the trouble?”
The dragon shrugged. “You never asked if I had killed them. Just where they were.”
I squared off with the creature, all too aware of the reaper in which I stared down. It had wiped out dozens of these thieves with barely a thought and then lead me on a dangerous chase after them when all along, it was clearly waiting to see if I was clever enough to even arrive.
[[Are you going to kill me?|Chapter seven are you going to kill me]]
[[I would like that mirror now]]
[[I thought this wasn’t something to concern yourself with]]I paused, staring at the bodies. The flesh was stripped from their bones, leaving nothing but the white marrow of what was once a skeletal figure. I could see small creatures coming out from beneath the sand to pick over whatever meat was still left. The dragon had picked it clean, however.
My eyes ticked over the remnants that were not bone, the stolen goods from Lady Kamille and the overturned chests spilled forth with pearls and other goods. The mirror, however, was beneath the dragon's other paw. The glass situated right beneath one sharp talon.
“I would like that mirror now,” I said pointedly.
The dragon grinned, flashing me a jagged set of teeth. “What? This?” Picking it up he tossed it in the air, catching it again. “You should thank me, you know. They were a rough bunch of individuals. Were bound to drive their cart right off this cliff while I was chasing them.”
[[Thank you|Chapter seven thank you]]
[[I cannot thank a creature that killed innocent beings. I didn’t ask you to do this]]
[[Collateral damage. They stole from the Baron. They knew what they were getting into]]
I paused, staring at the bodies. The flesh was stripped from their bones, leaving nothing but the white marrow of what was once a skeletal figure. I could see small creatures coming out from beneath the sand to pick over whatever meat was still left. The dragon had picked it clean, however.
“I thought you weren’t going to concern yourself with the Barons affairs,” I said after a long moment.
The dragon raised a brow to me. “Did I?”
“From the moment we met.”
Flicking the bone away, it sighed dramatically. “What can I say? You intrigued me. I wasn’t going to do anything, but then you were so persistent I wanted to see the treasure for myself.” He flashed a feral grin my ways, eyes lighting up the night. “Don’t you wish to thank me? I found your mirror.”
The mirror in question was beneath its other paw. I swallowed as the threat of the dragon's full weight loomed above it.
[[Thank you|Chapter seven thank you]]
[[I cannot thank a creature that killed innocent beings. I didn’t ask you to do this]]
[[Collateral damage. They stole from the Baron. They knew what they were getting into]]
I paused, staring at the bodies. The flesh was stripped from their bones, leaving nothing but the white marrow of what was once a skeletal figure. I could see small creatures coming out from beneath the sand to pick over whatever meat was still left. The dragon had picked it clean, however.
I swallowed thickly. There had been such a naive sense of hope that I would be able to walk up and find the mirror, magically finding my way home. But as I stared down the beast in front of me that dream was slowly turning to dust.
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked.
The dragon flashed a feral set of jagged teeth. “Well, that depends,” he leered. “Are you going to thank me for recovering your mirror?” I could see the mirror in question, poised just beneath the dragon's sharp claws. So easily it could shatter.
[[Thank you|Chapter seven thank you]]
[[I cannot thank a creature that killed innocent beings. I didn’t ask you to do this]]
[[Collateral damage. They stole from the Baron. They knew what they were getting into]]
“You think I’m about to thank you?” I asked. “You killed everyone. How am I supposed to thank a creature that killed innocent beings? I never asked you to do this.”
“Perhaps you should have been a bit more specific on how you wished for me to help you. Or,” he said, leaning in close. “Perhaps you shouldn’t trust anyone that comes your way.”
The dragon smiled at me. It was a smile that stretched so wide and lasted for so long that I began to shift uncomfortably on my feet. With the mirror plucked within its talons, they tipped their head to the side.
“I never liked Baron Kamille,” the dragon mused. “This mirror must have been important for her to send someone down here to retrieve it.”
“I’m just the person to bring it back to her,” I said. “I know nothing about it.”
The dragon looked at the mirror, staring at their own reflection. “I wonder how mad she’ll be if it’s broken.”
The crack that sounded across the small expanse we stood on was nearly deafening. Broken glass shattered beneath the dragon's claws, drifting down to the sea floor in a mixture of glittering dust. When the dragon tossed the remnants at me, I caught it, my had slicing open upon contact. I didn’t feel the pain, however. Only the shock of having come all this way, only to bring back a broken mirror.
Looking up at the beast, I watched as they began to move, uncaring of my fate. Their lupine body sashayed back into the open-mouthed den behind them, slowly submerging themselves into a world that I did not dare follow.
“Way back to the palace is over there,” they said with a tilt of their head. “Would hurry, landwalker. The Deep is beginning to get restless.” His tail slipped in the cave after him. His voice fading in the dark.
My heart was pounding as I held the mirror close to my chest. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes, scattering with the heat of my hand. Where the glass should have been was nothing more than a dark expanse of metal, tarnished with glue and bits of reflective glass.
[[Next|Return to Kamille]]
<<set $mirror to "broken">>I swallowed thickly, uncaring of the words that were about to slip from my lips. All I knew was I needed that mirror and this dragon seemed like the kind who enjoyed his ego stroked. Or, at the very least, being right.
I shrugged, trying to look unconcerned. “Collateral damage then,” I said in reference to my surroundings. “They stole from a Baron. They knew what they were getting into.” My stomach quelled at the sentiment, but I kept my jaw firm. I wasn’t going to thank him for taking a life. But I didn’t need to go out of my way to police him either.
The dragon smiled at me. It was a smile that stretched so wide and lasted for so long that I began to shift uncomfortably on my feet. With the mirror plucked within its talons, they tipped their head to the side.
“Catch.”
I jerked forward, scrambling to catch the hand mirror. When my fingers enclosed around the ornate frame I nearly cried in relief. One slip, and it would have been thrown over the side of the cliff and lost to the chasm that loomed below.
Looking up at the beast, I watched as they began to move, uncaring of my fate. Their lupine body sashayed back into the open-mouthed den behind them, slowly submerging themselves into a world that I did not dare follow.
“Way back to the palace is over there,” they said with a tilt of their head. “Would hurry, landwalker. The Deep is beginning to get restless.” His tail slipped in the cave after him. His voice fading in the dark.
My heart was pounding as I held the mirror close to my chest. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes, scattering with the heat of my hand. The reflective glass was dirty with the sediment of the sea but thankfully, still intact. It was a small miracle, to say the least.
[[Next|Return to Kamille]]
<<set $mirror to "safe">>“Thank you.” The words felt ripped from my throat. They were ones I did not want to say, given the carnage before me, but what was I supposed to do? I was staring down the face of a beast, who had the very thing I needed.
The dragon smiled at me. It was a smile that stretched so wide and lasted for so long that I began to shift uncomfortably on my feet. With the mirror plucked within its talons, they tipped their head to the side.
“Catch.”
I jerked forward, scrambling to catch the hand mirror. When my fingers enclosed around the ornate frame I nearly cried in relief. One slip, and it would have been thrown over the side of the cliff and lost to the chasm that loomed below.
Looking up at the beast, I watched as they began to move, uncaring of my fate. Their lupine body sashayed back into the open-mouthed den behind them, slowly submerging themselves into a world that I did not dare follow.
“Way back to the palace is over there,” they said with a tilt of their head. “Would hurry, landwalker. The Deep is beginning to get restless.” His tail slipped in the cave after him. His voice fading in the dark.
My heart was pounding as I held the mirror close to my chest. The frame was copper and woven through with live kelp. Tubes of microscopic glass were braided together along the hilt, wrapping down and disappearing behind the back of the metal frame. Small bits of something swam around within the tubes, scattering with the heat of my hand. The reflective glass was dirty with the sediment of the sea but thankfully, still intact. It was a small miracle, to say the least.
[[Next|Return to Kamille]]
<<set $mirror to "safe">>Reaching into my pocket with my free hand, I grabbed the coral. It guttered against my palm, its light blinking weakly up at me. I didn’t have time to think of much else as I turned to where the dragon had pointed. There was a large staircase that sat half embedded within the white sand, balanced precariously against a few rocks. The curved steps reached upwards into the unknown, disappearing in the dark enclosure of yet another cave. As I set my foot on the bottom step and began to climb, I held the mirror carefully. In my other hand, the coral turned to ash and behind me, the monsters began to scream.
I wasted no time, taking the steps two by two. The surrounding water suddenly felt bitterly cold and my teeth began to chatter. The gills upon my neck began to recede and the stark reality that the monsters were not the only thing I should fear, shot through me like a bolt. Racing up the steps, I felt my feet slip over slick patches of algae and far too many crushed bones. My chest burned and tears mingled with the sea but still, I ran.
I only breathed again when I was within the enclosure of familiar stone walls and my head breached the water. I fell to my back, blinking the salt from my eyes and clutching the mirror to my chest.
I was back within the palace depths. The Deep, was not far behind me.
[[Next|The palace]]My eyes opened to the blurry bright light of a seashell chandelier spinning high above. Starfish curled in a tiered mobile as the sound of water trickled somewhere in the distance. The world was still a watery expanse, shivering before my eyes but I felt my chest fill with air. As I made to sit up, pain shot down my spine, sending me curling towards the side. My hip was bruised and torn open, the palms of my hands shredded, and my muscles heavy in overuse. Blinking, I looked around, trying to gain my bearings and only half wondering if I was dead.
“You are awake.”
Baron Kamille sat at a small vanity, her hair swimming around her head like a crown, her lips pursed in barely concealed irritation.
“The dead dragged you here,” she said looking at me through the mirror. “Apparently you were naive enough to wander in the dark on your own.”
“The dead?” My voice was a rasp against a raw throat. I remember screaming. I didn’t know if it was me or someone else.
“Yes. The dead. They live beneath the ocean floor. And apparently they can heal most wounds. I heard you were not long for the world before they intervened and did whatever they did for you.” Turning, she sighed, looking me up and down. “While the Night Market may have saved you, you did not recover the mirror.”
[[The Night Market saved me?]]
[[So sorry that my almost dying got in the way of finding a mirror]]
[[Let me try again]]
Blinking, I steadied the nausea in my stomach. “The Night Market?”
Baron Kamille sighed, dabbing a spot of perfume from a conch shell onto her neck. “Yes. The Night Market. The dead may have dragged you here but only the Night Market can alert them to do such a thing. You must be important to someone somewhere.” Her voice was laced with bitterness that felt as sharp as the wounds against my arms.
Standing, she gave me a once over. “The most grievous of your wounds have been healed. Consider it my charity to your cause. You’ll be bruised and disoriented but you should be fine to get back to Ms. Albright. Anemone has already said she’s returned home. Someone will escort you back up top.”
As she made to leave I felt the panic begin to swell. “Baron Kamille,” I called out. She stopped, halfway out of her throne room. “We need part of your power,” I stressed. “This world is not going to last long if we do not find the Gatekeeper.”
“Then I suggest figuring something else out. Because you will not be getting anything more from me.” The sound of her heals clicked against the marble floor as she walked out, leaving me within her chamber, clutching my side in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Seven Renaissance Alley]]The look I gave her was incredulous, and I didn’t try to hide it or find a diplomatic resolution to her response. “I am so sorry that me almost dying got in the way of your stolen sense of vanity,” I bit out.
Her eyes were sharp as they turned to me, two pinpoints of sharp disappointment and barely concealed ire. I didn’t back down though. I was nearly left in the dark, dead and forgotten. All because she wanted a stupid mirror in return for helping save the world she lived in.
Standing, she gave me a once over. “The most grievous of your wounds have been healed. Consider it my charity to your cause. You’ll be bruised and disoriented but you should be fine to get back to Ms. Albright. Anemone has already said she’s returned home. Someone will escort you back up top.”
As she made to leave I felt the panic begin to swell. “Baron Kamille,” I called out. She stopped, halfway out of her throne room. “We need part of your power,” I stressed. “This world is not going to last long if we do not find the Gatekeeper.”
“Then I suggest figuring something else out. Because you will not be getting anything more from me.” The sound of her heals clicked against the marble floor as she walked out, leaving me within her chamber, clutching my side in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Seven Renaissance Alley]]Sitting up, I clutched my side. “I’ll try again,” I said, trying to move my feet, so I could dive back down the well. I made a mistake, but I wasn’t going to let it decide our fate. Or the fate of so many others.
“They will be long gone by now,” Kamille said through clenched teeth.
“So I’ll track them,” I tried. “I’ll… I’ll figure something out.”
“You won’t,” she snapped. “You had your chance and you failed. I’m not willing to entertain this silly little game any further.”
“But–”
Standing, she gave me a once over. “The most grievous of your wounds have been healed. Consider it my charity to your cause. You’ll be bruised and disoriented but you should be fine to get back to Ms. Albright. Anemone has already said she’s returned home. Someone will escort you back up top.”
As she made to leave I felt the panic begin to swell. “Baron Kamille,” I called out. She stopped, halfway out of her throne room. “We need part of your power,” I stressed. “This world is not going to last long if we do not find the Gatekeeper.”
“Then I suggest figuring something else out. Because you will not be getting anything more from me.” The sound of her heals clicked against the marble floor as she walked out, leaving me within her chamber, clutching my side in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Seven Renaissance Alley]]The journey up top was long and arduous. My legs felt stiff beneath me as the watery air cleared and I breathed in the somewhat stagnant air in the passageway leading towards land. I could feel every cut and bruise against my skin and the sea salt grit that coated my lashes. If I never saw the Deep again it would be far too soon.
<<if $mirror == "safe">> Lady Kamille bid me goodbye at a thick wooden door. Large hinges made of hammered steel stood against the otherwise wood frame. I did not linger with her long, her favor tucked away within a pocket, ready to give to Hazel’s for safekeeping. <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> A coral guard escorted me up top, turning to head back down below as soon as I laid eyes on a set of thick wooden doors. Large hinges made of hammered steel stood against the otherwise wood frame. I did not linger within the passageway and even before the sound of the knight's booted metal feet clunked away, I was pushing open the door. <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">>My body ached. It ached far more than I thought possible and I wasn’t quite sure how I was on my feet. As the Baron had said, most of my wounds had been taken care of while I had been passed out in the palace chambers, but I knew I was still covered in cuts in bruises and that my clothes indicated the fight had been far worse.<</if>>
I emerged from the passage, blinking at the lantern light above. My skin felt wet, and my clothes slightly damp but when I ran my hands over my arms, they came back dry. It was doubtful I would even understand the mechanics of the Deep nor did I have much of a desire to seek out the knowledge of the creatures lurking down there. Other than the docks, the Deep had easily been the most treacherous place of the Night Market thus far.
Rubbing my eyes, I stepped through the alley, my hand pressing against the narrow walls to help support my still wobbly legs. The world felt as if it were rocking, pressing me back and forth in a steady wave that left my feet unsteady beneath me. I just wanted to get home. To get back to Hazel’s fire with a good meal and lay eyes on the girl myself. Despite the Baron Kamille’s assurance that she had made it back, I didn’t think I would rest easy until I saw her with my own eyes.
<<if $miloro == "true">> And then there was Milo. There had been several times I had to push him from my thoughts while down in the oceanic depths. Thinking about our last conversation was not something that left me feeling easy about our relationship. Or whatever it is that we had started. I was unsure if that had been the end of him and I. And after what I saw at Anemone’s, I couldn’t help the unease that swam within my stomach. I just needed to get home and get some sleep.<</if>>
Stepping out of the small alley, I looked around, trying to gain my bearings. It was clear I was in a portion of the Market that I had never seen before. Trees jutted upwards, mingling with the now high-strung lanterns, while below me, a dirt path stretched far into the forest depths. I winced at the change in light. The lanterns here mimicked early dawn and for a moment, I could almost believe day was just over the horizon. Like most of the Market, small stalls were littered within the trees, hugging the pathways as vendors hawked their wares. Fabric dyed in deep purples and blues made up the makeshift walls between stalls while sparkling stones wrapped in thick twine, hung from the rafters to catch any wayward light.
Bits of silver and gold were twisted into braided bracelets and delicate earrings. Hairpieces woven with large buds of sunflowers and violets adorned the heads of small moving mannequins, and as I tilted my head upwards, I saw the spiraling rope ladders that would take me to higher shops above, all hanging suspended from branches. The pods were full of fine yards of muslin cloth, spools of rose gold, and bottles of shimmering tonics. In the distance, I could hear the clang of an anvil and the sharp scent of coal dust and molten iron. Fresh burning pine filled the air, lingering with the scent of open pits with roasting meat crackling off to one side. Children ran around here more prominently than I had ever seen them do in the main areas of the market, jabbing small sticks at each other and fighting back others that were dressed as rats. I laughed a little at their game, watching as one of the ‘rats’ coughed up a ribbon of black.
“I’s gots the plague!” one of the children shouted. They all scurried off through the trees, nearly knocking into several women with large hooped skirts.
With no clear direction as to which way Hazel’s was, I stepped out onto the dirt path.<<if $deepwounds == "true">> My ankle stung as my foot came down harder than I intended and I winced in pain through the split of my lip.<</if>> Like with most of my days, the best choice to figure out where I had landed, was to just start walking. Thankfully, it seemed as if I had wound up in a relatively nice area of the market itself. The people here looked less prone to haggling and more like they were eager to have a casual conversation. It was a more kindly atmosphere. One that boasted a sigh of relief after the dark world that I had almost succumbed to.
Making my way down the path, the air smelled of baked bread and something sweet. Figs or maybe honeyed pears. I could see several people sitting down at long stretches of dining tables, sharing a meal, while minstrels played on each corner, turning the wind into simple notes of the lute. The tables themselves were beneath beautiful stretches of pine bows with cream cotton clothes spread across them. Several pitchers of ale sat in the center, ripe for everyone to partake in while bowls of berries and platters of succulent meat were spread outwards. My stomach growled a little at the sight of it. I had lost the coin I usually carried with me somewhere in the Deep, however. There wasn’t going to be much feasting for me until I got home. At least I was certain that Hazel would have something for me when I did arrive.
“Well, as I live and breathe. If it isn’t $eyecolor eyes.”
I stopped. The voice was hauntingly familiar, and yet I didn’t know if I dared to hope. Slowly, I turned, looking for the source of it.
The blue-eyed man sat at a bench, a mug of ale in his hand, his chin resting on his upturned palm.
“Hey there, old friend.”
[[Run and hug him]]
[[Return his greeting warmly]]
[[Start looking around for the trap]]
<<if $mirror == "safe">> <<set $perception to +1>><</if>>I didn’t hesitate as I made my way up the stairs, my feet slipping beneath me until I reached a seashell door and banged through.
I stumbled into the lit palace where Baron Kamille sat, looking utterly bored. My knees gave out from under me as I slid across the polished marble floor. Salt covered my skin and my clothes stuck to my skin in a wet heap. Lying on the floor, I began gasping for air, feeling as if I hadn’t breathed it for weeks. The air around me still wasn’t fresh though, as it was only a mimicry of the air up above. Rolling onto my back I coughed up bile and salt water, my eyes stinging with the light around me and the fresh air that filled my lungs.
“Did you get it?” Kamille’s voice rang out across the room. Her hands were clutched at the sides of her throne, her eyes darting anxiously across my body. She was halfway risen from her seat when I held up the mirror for her to see.
The cry of joy that escaped her was unexpected. A sob burst from her, cracking through the room as she shifted off her throne, legs shimmer in place of where long tendrils of shifting purple tentacles had been. She knelt by my side, taking the mirror from me and cupping it in her hand.
<<if $mirror == "broken">>The joy she felt was quickly diminished. “It’s broken,” she muttered softly, tears beginning to slip from her eyes. Sitting up, I coughed, feeling the grit against my skin and the bruises beginning to form across my body. “Oh,” she said with a voice full of sorrow. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” I asked. My thoughts were struggling to claw their way up from the muddied waters below and I couldn’t figure out why this woman would be apologizing to me. Other than for the fact that she sent me down there utterly unprepared.
“You are not who I owe my sorrow to,” she snapped. Rising, she held the mirror close, cradling it against her chest. Abalone tears trickled down her ebony skin, falling to the floor in soft planks. “Leave,” she said.
I looked at her with wide eyes. “What?”
“I said get out.”
“You owe me your favor,” I protested. “I followed through on your mission and–”
“It’s broken!” Around us the windows shattered and water fell into the palace chambers in rushing waves. I scrambled to the center of the room, afraid I would suddenly be swallowed hole. The waters rushed into small drains beneath each rise, however, filling the room but never reaching past the platforms we stood on.
[[I didn’t mean for it to break]]
[[What did you expect was going to happen? You sent me down there with no information]]
[[I’m so sorry I failed you]] <<elseif $mirror == "safe">>”Oh,” she gasped, tears trickling down her face in small beads of abalone. They plinked against the marble floor, chiming like bells, where small spectral crabs came up to gather them before sinking back down into the waters below. “I never thought I would see this again,” she whispered softly.
“What is it?”
Her head tipped up to meet my eyes, as if she had forgotten I was even there. “It was my mothers,” she said. “These tubes, contain her memories.” The small little glass braided filigree that wrapped around the handle shimmered. As Kamille ran her hand across them, I watched as the liquid made its way to the mirror's surface. A beautiful woman appeared on the other side of the glass, a streak of grey shot through her otherwise plum colored hair and her teal eyes shining kindly up at Kamille. Her daughter.
“This was more precious to me than you will ever know,” Kamille whispered. Tucking the mirror close, she smiled at me softly. “You have my support in the upcoming days. And my favor.”
A small conch appeared in front of me, glowing faintly along with the ring on her left hand. I had done it. Despite every odd stacked against me, I had somehow done it.
Rising to her feet, Kamille held out her hand, helping me stand for what felt like the first time in ages. “Your coral I assume has run out,” she said softly. “I’ll give you safe passage up to the district above.”
I nearly sighed in relief. All I wanted at this moment was to get out of here. “I came down here with a friend. Do you know if she was able to make it back up?”
“Hazel Albright. Yes. Anemone contacted me and said she sent her home already. I suspect she will be waiting for you.”
I closed my eyes, something loosening in my chest. Hazel was safe. “Then, if it’s not too rude, I would really like to go home.”
The Baron laughed, nodding her head, her eyes still wet with the knowledge of her reclaimed mirror. “Of course. Come. I’ll escort you myself.”
[[Next|Chapter Seven Renaissance Alley]]
<<elseif $mirror == "cracked">>”Oh,” she gasped, tears trickling down her face in small beads of abalone. They plinked against the marble floor, chiming like bells, where small spectral crabs came up to gather them before sinking back down into the waters below. “I never thought I would see this again,” she whispered softly.
“What is it?”
Her head tipped up to meet my eyes, as if she had forgotten I was even there. “It was my mothers,” she said. “These tubes, contain her memories.” The small little glass braided filigree that wrapped around the handle shimmered. As Kamille ran her hand across them, I watched as the liquid made its way to the mirror's surface. A beautiful woman appeared on the other side of the glass, a streak of grey shot through her otherwise plum colored hair and her teal eyes shining kindly up at Kamille. Her daughter. She was not whole, cracked through with silver lines from where the mirror itself broke, but she was still there. Still able to look at Kamille and smile.
“This was more precious to me than you will ever know,” Kamille whispered. Tucking the mirror close, she smiled at me softly. “You have my support in the upcoming days. And my favor.”
A small conch appeared in front of me, glowing faintly along with the ring on her left hand. I had done it. Despite every odd stacked against me, I had somehow done it.
Rising to her feet, Kamille held out her hand, helping me stand for what felt like the first time in ages. “Your coral I assume has run out,” she said softly. “I’ll give you safe passage up to the district above.”
I nearly sighed in relief. All I wanted at this moment was to get out of here. “I came down here with a friend. Do you know if she was able to make it back up?”
“Hazel Albright. Yes. Anemone contacted me and said she sent her home already. I suspect she will be waiting for you.”
I closed my eyes, something loosening in my chest. Hazel was safe. “Then, if it’s not too rude, I would really like to go home.”
The Baron laughed, nodding her head, her eyes still wet with the knowledge of her reclaimed mirror. “Of course. Come. I’ll escort you myself.”
[[Next|Chapter Seven Renaissance Alley]]<</if>>
I shook my head sadly. “I didn’t mean for it to break,” I tried to explain to her. I know I had tried my best down there. I had jumped headlong into this mission with no other knowledge than I needed to recover a mirror. The danger was stacked against me, not allowing me to do much more than what I had done. If this mirror actually mattered to her, she should have sent her guards. Surely she would understand that.
“Please,” I started hesitantly. “We need your favor. I cannot return up top without it.”
Her eyes flashed towards me, the room around me rumbling with the call of the sea. “You will receive nothing from me. I knew I shouldn’t have allowed you within my domain. What good has a landwalker ever done for the Deep.”
“The world will die without it.”
“Then let it,” she yelled. Up above, the coral chandelier burst apart, raining down around us in shards of jagged shell. Soft weeping could be heard from the woman before me and I watched as she hung her head in absolute grief.
I didn’t know what to do. Standing there, I watched the woman in front of me break down, holding the mirror close to her chest as a mother would a child. I didn’t understand any of it and knew this ran much deeper than I could ever hope to discern. When she did finally look up at me, it was with shimmer tracks dripping down her cheeks and red rimmed eyes.
She blinked, having expected I would have gone already. But when I continued to stand there, unsure of what to do, she sighed.
“I will have someone escort you to the surface,” she said softly. “Anemone has already contacted me. Hazel Albright is safe up above.”
It was a relief to hear but knowing I was returning up top without the Baron’s favor weighed heavily against me. “Baron Kamille, please–”
“I will think about it,” she whispered. Tipping her head upwards, she tried to regain control of the raging emotions that filled her eyes. “Return home and I will think about it.”
With nothing left to do, I nodded. Home. It sounded almost like a dream.
[[Next|Chapter Seven Renaissance Alley]]“What exactly did you expect?” I shot back at her. “You sent me down there with nothing. No information. No way to protect myself. I am lucky I even got home.” I could feel the anger burst inside me, sending splotches of color against my skin. If this mirror had been so damn important to her, she should have helped more. Sent someone down that was capable. All she had done was break it herself, as far as I was concerned, and I was not going to take the blame for her actions.
“I did what you asked. You need to uphold your end of the bargain,” I said firmly. “The world will die without it.”
She didn't look at me as she rose, still cradling the mirror close to her chest. “Then I suggest figuring something else out. Because you will not be getting anything more from me.” The sound of her heals clicked against the marble floor as she walked out, leaving me within her chamber, having failed.
[[Next|Chapter Seven Renaissance Alley]]“I am so sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to fail you.” The grief that was slowly writing itself across her skin was palpable. I felt the ache of it as if it were my own, lingering in my chest and threatening to weigh me down. I watched as she curled in on the broken mirror, holding it and weeping silently within her own arms. There was nothing I could say to make this moment any better. I knew this. Yet, I still felt the weight of my actions. I still felt as if this were my fault.
“I will have someone escort you to the surface,” Baron Kamille said softly, not looking up to meet my eyes. “Anemone has already contacted me. Hazel Albright is safe up above.”
It was a relief to hear but knowing I was returning up top without the Baron’s favor weighed heavily against me. “Baron Kamille, please. We need your help if we are to save the market.”
“I will think about it,” she whispered. Tipping her head upwards, she tried to regain control of the raging emotions that filled her eyes. “Return home and I will think about it.”
With nothing left to do, I nodded. Home. It sounded almost like a dream.
[[Next|Chapter Seven Renaissance Alley]]I didn’t think as I rounded the table and pulled him into my arms. Ale sloshed across his hand as he was jerked forward. Warm laughter filled my ear as he reached around with his free arm to wrap around me in a soft embrace. This man had been the light in the dark. One blue eye that looked through a cracked hole in the wall and a soothing yet chaotic voice that kept me present.
“You recognized me,” I said, pulling back.
“Hard to forget someone like you. Mainly because I said I wouldn’t.” He tapped his head. “Steel trap this brain is. Never forgets a damn thing.”
“Caliban,” a man called from down the table. “Think you forgot to pay.”
“We got to go.” Standing from the table, he linked arms with me, dragging me away from the few curious onlookers. Nodding and waving cordially at the people we passed, he directed me through the back of several other stalls before emerging out on a pitted dirt road a little ways away.
I raised a brow at him.
“I’m good for it,” he told me quickly. “Eventually.”
There was something to be said about the boyish charm that the man presented. It put me at ease and maybe it was due to the events that had transpired within the Deep, but I was finding I didn’t care if he was lying or not. The familiar comfort of his blue eyes was somehow all I could focus on. It was oddly a relief to see him again. Yet, in his presence, I suddenly felt much more weary than I had before. It was the bone deep kind that came with the passage of time. My stay within the Night Market was short in comparison to most, but it seemed like so long ago I was peering through that wall, desperately seeking answering from this man.
“It’s good to see you again,” I told him honestly. It suddenly felt far too important that he know, in case the world took us down different paths once more.
“Good to see you too, $eyecolor eyes,” he grinned.
“$name, actually.”
“Caliban,” he said, holding out his hand. His grip was strong and sure and yet I could feel nearly every bone in his wide set palms. “What are you doing all the way out here? A bit far from where I last left you. And hey! You got out of the cells. Good on you.”
“I’ve almost run into you a few times, I think,” I told him, sticking close as we continued to wander. “Seems like you’re always running from the Guard.”
“Been arrested twice more since I last saw you.” The grin across his face was one full of mischief. Each arrest obviously being a personal point of pride.
“Did that friend of yours bail you out each time?”
“Reese? I mean…” he startled, struggling to pluck a different word from thin air. “Damn. I’m not supposed to say his name.”
“Why?”
Caliban scratched the back of his neck, shrugging a bit. He wore a soft spun tunic that was loose at the neck and a pair of doeskin pants that looks stained at the knees. “He’s a bit of a complication that man. Good man. Scary as fuck. But a good man. Enjoy his company and such. You hungry? You look hungry.”
[[Yeah, after a day like today, I could eat]]
[[I really don’t know what I am anymore]]
[[I really need to be getting back to my friends]]I stared at him for what was probably longer than deemed comfortable, before a laugh burst from my lips. Leave it to this man to be the first person I see when trapped in a cell and the first person to greet me when I leave yet another prison.
“You recognize me,” I said, stating the obvious but still touched by the fact that he knew who I was without even a prompt.
“Hard to forget someone like you. Mainly because I said I wouldn’t.” He tapped his head. “Steel trap this brain is. Never forgets a damn thing.”
“Caliban,” a man called from down the table. “Think you forgot to pay.”
“We got to go.” Standing from the table, he linked arms with me, dragging me away from the few curious onlookers. Nodding and waving cordially at the people we passed, he directed me through the back of several other stalls before emerging out on a pitted dirt road a little ways away.
I raised a brow at him.
“I’m good for it,” he told me quickly. “Eventually.”
There was something to be said about the boyish charm that the man presented. It put me at ease and maybe it was due to the events that had transpired within the Deep, but I was finding I didn’t care if he was lying or not. The familiar comfort of his blue eyes was somehow all I could focus on. It was oddly a relief to see him again. Yet, in his presence, I suddenly felt much more weary than I had before. It was the bone deep kind that came with the passage of time. My stay within the Night Market was short in comparison to most, but it seemed like so long ago I was peering through that wall, desperately seeking answering from this man.
“It’s good to see you again,” I told him honestly. It suddenly felt far too important that he know, in case the world took us down different paths once more.
“Good to see you too, $eyecolor eyes,” he grinned.
“$name, actually.”
“Caliban,” he said, holding out his hand. His grip was strong and sure and yet I could feel nearly every bone in his wide set palms. “What are you doing all the way out here? A bit far from where I last left you. And hey! You got out of the cells. Good on you.”
“I’ve almost run into you a few times, I think,” I told him, sticking close as we continued to wander. “Seems like you’re always running from the Guard.”
“Been arrested twice more since I last saw you.” The grin across his face was one full of mischief. Each arrest obviously being a personal point of pride.
“Did that friend of yours bail you out each time?”
“Reese? I mean…” he startled, struggling to pluck a different word from thin air. “Damn. I’m not supposed to say his name.”
“Why?”
Caliban scratched the back of his neck, shrugging a bit. He wore a soft spun tunic that was loose at the neck and a pair of doeskin pants that looks stained at the knees. “He’s a bit of a complication that man. Good man. Scary as fuck. But a good man. Enjoy his company and such. You hungry? You look hungry.”
[[Yeah, after a day like today, I could eat]]
[[I really don’t know what I am anymore]]
[[I really need to be getting back to my friends]]My eyes narrowed as I looked around, sure that something was about to happen. My body felt shaky and the dreamlike state that I was almost convinced I was in, and yet to let up. But when nothing happened other than a broken chord on a lute two tables down, I looked back at him. He was staring at me, somewhat amused, patiently waiting for me to speak.
“You recognize me?”
“Hard to forget someone like you. Mainly because I said I wouldn’t.” He tapped his head. “Steel trap this brain is. Never forgets a damn thing.”
“Caliban,” a man called from down the table. “Think you forgot to pay.”
“We got to go.” Standing from the table, he linked arms with me, dragging me away from the few curious onlookers. Nodding and waving cordially at the people we passed, he directed me through the back of several other stalls before emerging out on a pitted dirt road a little ways away.
I raised a brow at him.
“I’m good for it,” he told me quickly. “Eventually.”
There was something to be said about the boyish charm that the man presented. It put me at ease and maybe it was due to the events that had transpired within the Deep, but I was finding I didn’t care if he was lying or not. The familiar comfort of his blue eyes was somehow all I could focus on. It was oddly a relief to see him again. Yet, in his presence, I suddenly felt much more weary than I had before. It was the bone deep kind that came with the passage of time. My stay within the Night Market was short in comparison to most, but it seemed like so long ago I was peering through that wall, desperately seeking answering from this man.
“It’s good to see you again,” I told him honestly. It suddenly felt far too important that he know, in case the world took us down different paths once more.
“Good to see you too, $eyecolor eyes,” he grinned.
“$name, actually.”
“Caliban,” he said, holding out his hand. His grip was strong and sure and yet I could feel nearly every bone in his wide set palms. “What are you doing all the way out here? A bit far from where I last left you. And hey! You got out of the cells. Good on you.”
“I’ve almost run into you a few times, I think,” I told him, sticking close as we continued to wander. “Seems like you’re always running from the Guard.”
“Been arrested twice more since I last saw you.” The grin across his face was one full of mischief. Each arrest obviously being a personal point of pride.
“Did that friend of yours bail you out each time?”
“Reese? I mean…” he startled, struggling to pluck a different word from thin air. “Damn. I’m not supposed to say his name.”
“Why?”
Caliban scratched the back of his neck, shrugging a bit. He wore a soft spun tunic that was loose at the neck and a pair of doeskin pants that looks stained at the knees. “He’s a bit of a complication that man. Good man. Scary as fuck. But a good man. Enjoy his company and such. You hungry? You look hungry.”
[[Yeah, after a day like today, I could eat]]
[[I really don’t know what I am anymore]]
[[I really need to be getting back to my friends]]My stomach was growling loud enough that I was surprised he even asked. The coral had turned to ash down in the Deep, so I knew the time I was gone wasn’t much longer than eight hours. But I had barely eaten breakfast that morning before heading out towards the ocean access and after everything that had happened down there I was famished.
“Yeah. I could eat.” I knew I should be getting back to the apothecary, but I was tired beyond reason and just wanted to sit somewhere safe. Just for a minute. That, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to face the conversations I would have to have once getting there. “But, uh, is there at least a way to send a message somewhere? I want to let some friends of mine know I’m alive.”
“Oh,” he winced in sympathy. “Tough one that. See, you might want to get back to your friends, but that is going to be a no go. Another gate opened. They’re blocking the way out of here.”
My head whipped around as if the gate would be standing just outside my peripheral. There was nothing but a group of jugglers off to either side though. “That’s actually great,” I started, standing on my tiptoes to try and see over a passing group of what looked like jesters. “I’m friends with the Warden.”
“By blocking the way out of here I mean you cannot get within a three night market block radius. If the Warden is even still there, he’s not going to see you,” Caliban said.
I felt my shoulders slump. Wasn’t that the way it kind of went? So close and yet so far at the same time? I felt the dull throb in my head as that stinging sensation in the back of my sinuses. The one someone got when waterlogged. “Is there a way I can get word to them?”
Caliban shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’ve never had anyone I desperately needed to assure that I was alive.”
[[That’s sad]]
[[Neither have I]]
[[Loners need to stick together]]My stomach was growling loud enough that I was surprised he even asked. Or maybe he was doing me a courtesy, suggesting what I clearly needed since I didn’t seem to be taking the lead on such a thing. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I left out a huff of breath that was punctuated with a wheeze.
“You know,” I said. “I really don’t know what I need anymore. I don’t even know what I am.”
Caliban blinked at me for one dull moment. “Well, that’s a whole mess of mental issues we won’t be going into without a hot meal in our belly. Come on.”
I stumbled after him, dropping my hand from my face. “Could we do it on the way back to the apothecary? I have people waiting for me there.” Or at least I hoped they were waiting for me. Was my absence missed at all?
“Oh,” he winced in sympathy. “Tough one that. See, you might want to get back to your friends, but that is going to be a no go. Another gate opened. They’re blocking the way out of here.”
My head whipped around as if the gate would be standing just outside my peripheral. There was nothing but a group of jugglers off to either side though. “That’s actually great,” I started, standing on my tiptoes to try and see over a passing group of what looked like jesters. “I’m friends with the Warden.”
“By blocking the way out of here I mean you cannot get within a three night market block radius. If the Warden is even still there, he’s not going to see you,” Caliban said.
I felt my shoulders slump. Wasn’t that the way it kind of went? So close and yet so far at the same time? I felt the dull throb in my head as that stinging sensation in the back of my sinuses. The one someone got when waterlogged. “Is there a way I can get word to them?”
Caliban shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’ve never had anyone I desperately needed to assure that I was alive.”
[[That’s sad]]
[[Neither have I]]
[[Loners need to stick together]]My stomach was growling loud enough that I didn’t think he needed to ask. But it would have to wait. As much as I wanted to catch up with Caliban again, I knew that I needed to get home to the apothecary. At the very least to let everyone know that I was alive and that I had been successful.
“I am but… I really should be getting back to my friends. They are going to get worried about me.” I couldn’t even imagine the hell that was going to break loose with Hazel returning without me.
“Oh,” he winced in sympathy. “Tough one that. See, you might want to get back to your friends, but that is going to be a no go. Another gate opened. They’re blocking the way out of here.”
My head whipped around as if the gate would be standing just outside my peripheral. There was nothing but a group of jugglers off to either side though. “That’s actually great,” I started, standing on my tiptoes to try and see over a passing group of what looked like jesters. “I’m friends with the Warden.”
“By blocking the way out of here I mean you cannot get within a three night market block radius. If the Warden is even still there, he’s not going to see you,” Caliban said.
I felt my shoulders slump. Wasn’t that the way it kind of went? So close and yet so far at the same time? I felt the dull throb in my head as that stinging sensation in the back of my sinuses. The one someone got when waterlogged. “Is there a way I can get word to them?”
Caliban shrugged. “I don’t really know. I’ve never had anyone I desperately needed to assure that I was alive.”
[[That’s sad]]
[[Neither have I]]
[[Loners need to stick together]]“That’s sad.” The words were out of my mouth unbidden. I wasn’t sure why. When I looked at him, he seemed genuinely confused by the statement, however.
“Is it?”
“Yes,” I nodded. What had happened to this man that he had no one out there that was concerned for him? Everyone needed at least one person who looked forward to them coming home at night.
He looked at me, head tilted to the side in question, as if he were figuring a puzzle out. “Huh. Never thought of it that way I guess.” Then, with a shrug, he moved on just like that. “Come on. Let’s get a little food in you, and you can tell me all about your life post cell so far. Maybe then the roads will be opened back up, and we can get you home. It is a home, right? You’re not homeless.”
In a way I guess I was homeless. Nothing was mine, as of yet. Given how long it was going to take me to earn enough money to purchase a place of my own, I didn’t think I’d be leaving Hazel’s any time soon. But all of that didn’t seem like a topic of discussion with a man that was by all intents, still a stranger.
“I’m living with Hazel Albright. She owns an apothecary.”
“I think I know the girl. Well, not her exactly, but I do know of the apothecary. Best tonics in town. Also, best curses.”
I frowned a little. “I think you may be thinking of her mother.” As far as I knew, Hazel only sold herbal tonics. Maybe the threat of an occasional hex but it was never anything serious.
“Girl with scarves always in her hair? Tonics strapped to her hips like war hammers? Cute as a button? That Hazel?” I nodded at him. Unless she looked exactly like her mother, he was describing her. “Yeah. I don’t know what she’s told you, but she’s the main supplier of curses in the market. She may not be the one to actually curse people, but she does sell them. That girls got some dark magic. She’s just smart and doesn’t flaunt it. Got to appreciate that about someone like that. To have that kind of magic and not use it every chance they get? Shows restraint. It also makes them all the more terrifying because you never know when they’re going to be able to turn you into a small rodent of some sort.”
I just stared at him as I took in this new information. Thinking back, I hadn’t really asked Hazel what all was sold within the apothecary. I had seen most of it of course, and the tonics and sachets that had gone out had mainly been herbal. But, I did know she had some unsavory deliveries from time to time. Milo usually came and took them for her in the dead of night. But why would she keep that from me? Was she even actively keeping that from me or had I simply just not asked?
Unaware of the thoughts suddenly scrambling in my head, Caliban nodded towards another long table, a feast set out on this one as well. I tried to turn my thoughts towards that, knowing full well that fatigue and pain were making my thoughts run far far away from me.
“Do they just have tables of food placed out?”
“Yeah. They’re like little restaurants. You eat your fill, and it tallies up, and you pay for it in the end. I promise I’ll pay for this one since you’re with me. I’m a gentleman like that.” I got the feeling he was not, but he was trying.
Sitting down at the table, a plate appeared before me. Set out for my choosing was a wide variety of meats and garlic roast greens. Baked apples and fresh cracked bread. Pitcher upon pitcher of ale and honeyed mead were dispersed.
[[Eat a bit of everything]]
[[Strictly vegetarian]]
[[Strictly vegan]]“Neither have I,” I told him. Not that I remembered. But I had a funny feeling that even if my memories were intact, the select people who would be concerned for me were not many. Because if they were, they would have found me by now. Someone would have be desperate for my return. <<if $deepghosts == "true">>Something itched at the back of my brain. A memory of something that had happened in the Deep. I suddenly wasn’t too sure I wasn’t from here to begin with.<</if>>
“I have people now though,” I continued. “Or at least I hope I do.” Maybe they weren’t worried though. I had only known them all for a brief amount of time. Maybe their day was continuing like normal.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> No. Hazel would be beside herself by now. Getting her to leave the Deep without me had most likely been nearly impossible to do. She was probably worried sick with my absence so far. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> Milo hadn’t seemed like he would be waiting for me to return. Too angry at what I had said. Or maybe too hurt. But I hoped. I had hope that he was pacing somewhere, waiting for the word that I was home. Or at the very least, I hoped there would be some concern when he found Hazel safe and sound, but I was not at her side.<</if>>
“Come on. You got deep thoughts going.” I nearly laughed at the choice of his words. “Let’s get a little food in you, and you can tell me all about your life post cell so far. Maybe then the roads will be opened back up, and we can get you home. It is a home, right? You’re not homeless?”
In a way I guess I was homeless. Nothing was mine, as of yet. Given how long it was going to take me to earn enough money to purchase a place of my own, I didn’t think I’d be leaving Hazel’s any time soon. But all of that didn’t seem like a topic of discussion with a man that was by all intents, still a stranger.
“I’m living with Hazel Albright. She owns an apothecary.”
“I think I know the girl. Well, not her exactly, but I do know of the apothecary. Best tonics in town. Also, best curses.”
I frowned a little. “I think you may be thinking of her mother.” As far as I knew, Hazel only sold herbal tonics. Maybe the threat of an occasional hex but it was never anything serious.
“Girl with scarves always in her hair? Tonics strapped to her hips like war hammers? Cute as a button? That Hazel?” I nodded at him. Unless she looked exactly like her mother, he was describing her. “Yeah. I don’t know what she’s told you, but she’s the main supplier of curses in the market. She may not be the one to actually curse people, but she does sell them. That girls got some dark magic. She’s just smart and doesn’t flaunt it. Got to appreciate that about someone like that. To have that kind of magic and not use it every chance they get? Shows restraint. It also makes them all the more terrifying because you never know when they’re going to be able to turn you into a small rodent of some sort.”
I just stared at him as I took in this new information. Thinking back, I hadn’t really asked Hazel what all was sold within the apothecary. I had seen most of it of course, and the tonics and sachets that had gone out had mainly been herbal. But, I did know she had some unsavory deliveries from time to time. Milo usually came and took them for her in the dead of night. But why would she keep that from me? Was she even actively keeping that from me or had I simply just not asked?
Unaware of the thoughts suddenly scrambling in my head, Caliban nodded towards another long table, a feast set out on this one as well. I tried to turn my thoughts towards that, knowing full well that fatigue and pain were making my thoughts run far far away from me.
“Do they just have tables of food placed out?”
“Yeah. They’re like little restaurants. You eat your fill, and it tallies up, and you pay for it in the end. I promise I’ll pay for this one since you’re with me. I’m a gentleman like that.” I got the feeling he was not, but he was trying.
Sitting down at the table, a plate appeared before me. Set out for my choosing was a wide variety of meats and garlic roast greens. Baked apples and fresh cracked bread. Pitcher upon pitcher of ale and honeyed mead were dispersed.
[[Eat a bit of everything]]
[[Strictly vegetarian]]
[[Strictly vegan]]I understood the sentiment far too well. “Us loners need to stick together,” I told him with a soft smile.
Looking at me curiously, he bumped his hip to mine. The gangliness of his body and the jut of his bones, made the action register a tad bit on the uncomfortable side.
“Oh, I wouldn’t count yourself as a loner. Sounds like you’ve made quite a few friends since our torrid affair in the prison.”
I raised a brow to him. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”
“Of course not,” he proclaimed. “But if I was, would you be mad?”
“Coming from someone else? Maybe. But you? Harmless.’
“That’s me. Harmless bird. That’s what they call me. Like a hawk. Something that has talons and can gut you in your sleep but instead chooses to snuggle you.”
“What kind of hawks have you been hanging out with?” I laughed.
The shrug of his shoulders made his head bob from side to side. “The kind that are only in my dreams, I’m afraid.”
The smell of food wafted in the air. Crunchy bread and sugared berries. I nearly groaned at the sight of a small child running through the dirty roads with a hunk of sourdough, afraid I was going to rip it from her hands.
“Come on. We don't steal from children," Caliban laughed. “Let’s get a little food in you, and you can tell me all about your life post cell so far. Maybe then the roads will be opened back up, and we can get you home. It is a home, right? You’re not homeless?”
In a way I guess I was homeless. Nothing was mine, as of yet. Given how long it was going to take me to earn enough money to purchase a place of my own, I didn’t think I’d be leaving Hazel’s any time soon. But all of that didn’t seem like a topic of discussion with a man that was by all intents, still a stranger.
“I’m living with Hazel Albright. She owns an apothecary.”
“I think I know the girl. Well, not her exactly, but I do know of the apothecary. Best tonics in town. Also, best curses.”
I frowned a little. “I think you may be thinking of her mother.” As far as I knew, Hazel only sold herbal tonics. Maybe the threat of an occasional hex but it was never anything serious.
“Girl with scarves always in her hair? Tonics strapped to her hips like war hammers? Cute as a button? That Hazel?” I nodded at him. Unless she looked exactly like her mother, he was describing her. “Yeah. I don’t know what she’s told you, but she’s the main supplier of curses in the market. She may not be the one to actually curse people, but she does sell them. That girls got some dark magic. She’s just smart and doesn’t flaunt it. Got to appreciate that about someone like that. To have that kind of magic and not use it every chance they get? Shows restraint. It also makes them all the more terrifying because you never know when they’re going to be able to turn you into a small rodent of some sort.”
I just stared at him as I took in this new information. Thinking back, I hadn’t really asked Hazel what all was sold within the apothecary. I had seen most of it of course, and the tonics and sachets that had gone out had mainly been herbal. But, I did know she had some unsavory deliveries from time to time. Milo usually came and took them for her in the dead of night. But why would she keep that from me? Was she even actively keeping that from me or had I simply just not asked?
Unaware of the thoughts suddenly scrambling in my head, Caliban nodded towards another long table, a feast set out on this one as well. I tried to turn my thoughts towards that, knowing full well that fatigue and pain were making my thoughts run far far away from me.
“Do they just have tables of food placed out?”
“Yeah. They’re like little restaurants. You eat your fill, and it tallies up, and you pay for it in the end. I promise I’ll pay for this one since you’re with me. I’m a gentleman like that.” I got the feeling he was not, but he was trying.
Sitting down at the table, a plate appeared before me. Set out for my choosing was a wide variety of meats and garlic roast greens. Baked apples and fresh cracked bread. Pitcher upon pitcher of ale and honeyed mead were dispersed.
[[Eat a bit of everything]]
[[Strictly vegetarian]]
[[Strictly vegan]]Grabbing a bit of everything, I loaded up my plate. It was soon piled high with flaky strips of fish, buttered greens, rosemary bread and fluffy bowls of rice. There were other things on the table I didn’t recognize. A red soup of some sort. A carrot like tuber that looked like cake when bitten into. And mugs of green smoking liquid. With a shrug, I grabbed those too, willing to eat just about anything to stave off the beast growling in my stomach.
Caliban picked at his own plate, waiting for me to slow down in my ravenous hunger before picking up conversation again. I noticed the way people passed us, most having a kind word or smile for him. Vendors in general gave him a side eye, but as for the people walking by, they mostly seemed to enjoy his company.
“So where were you? How’d you pop up here?” he asked. He shuffled the food around on his plate, barely eating any of it. He was a scrawny man. It was the best way to describe him. His clothes hung from his frame and the coat I noticed that he kept by his side, looked three sizes too big for him. “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit. Like you were puked out by something foul and landed here on the doorstep of the only people in the market who probably don’t care how you smell.”
I cringed a little. I probably did smell pretty atrocious.
“I don’t even know where here is,” I told him honestly, looking around at my surroundings. I could see more permanent looking structures in the distance. Mud huts with warm light spilling from the windows. They reminded me of the taverns close to the beach.
“Oh shit.” Caliban said, taking in my reaction. “Renaissance Alley. That’s what we call this. I should have led with that. It’s a little corner of the world tucked away from the rest of the Night Market, where they like to believe in the old world and not the new. Though I don’t know what that means in context to a world that is a conglomeration of all, both old and new, but it's a catchy little tag line and I don’t want to disappoint anyone by pointing out the reality of the situation.”
I looked around. The people here were dressed fairly similar to what I had seen of the rest of the market. Perhaps just fewer layers than before and fewer patterns. It wasn’t until I spied a few individuals in suits of armor, steel plates across their breastbone and clunky greaves upon their shins, that I noticed a difference. Other than them, however, people looked fairly normal aside from the astounding amount of corsets.
“It doesn’t look that different,” I told him.
Caliban laughed. “Probably not. The vibe here is different though. More jovial, I guess. It’s like everyone is dressing up and playing pretend. It’s one of my favorite places. Everyone is a bit more relaxed around this area. Doesn’t take life all that seriously.”
Looking around, I did agree that the vibe was much calmer. The people walking by didn’t seem in as much of a rush. They carried bundles of fresh flowers while others passed small trinkets out to children. With each passing moment, my spine felt looser, and my heart was beginning to beat regularly in my chest once more.
“I was in the Deep,” I volunteered.
Caliban let out a low whistle. “Haven’t heard good things about that place.”
[[The rumors are true]]
[[I’m never going down there again]]
[[The main area is pretty but the second you stray off the coral path you’re as good as dead]]
<<set $food to "everything">>I loaded my plate up with buttered greens and rosemary bread. Steaming bowls of fluffy rice mixed in with heaping bouts of carrots and snap peas were placed in front of me. Even the food I did not recognize, I grabbed, Caliban assuring me it was vegetarian. Large platters of sweet smelling grilled eggplant and garlic encrusted roots nearly made me moan in pleasure. I was so hungry, I knew I could eat it all.
Caliban picked at his own plate, waiting for me to slow down in my ravenous hunger before picking up conversation again. I noticed the way people passed us, most having a kind word or smile for him. Vendors in general gave him a side eye, but as for the people walking by, they mostly seemed to enjoy his company.
“So where were you? How’d you pop up here?” he asked. He shuffled the food around on his plate, barely eating any of it. He was a scrawny man. It was the best way to describe him. His clothes hung from his frame and the coat I noticed that he kept by his side, looked three sizes too big for him. “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit. Like you were puked out by something foul and landed here on the doorstep of the only people in the market who probably don’t care how you smell.”
I cringed a little. I probably did smell pretty atrocious.
“I don’t even know where here is,” I told him honestly, looking around at my surroundings. I could see more permanent looking structures in the distance. Mud huts with warm light spilling from the windows. They reminded me of the taverns close to the beach.
“Oh shit.” Caliban said, taking in my reaction. “Renaissance Alley. That’s what we call this. I should have led with that. It’s a little corner of the world tucked away from the rest of the Night Market, where they like to believe in the old world and not the new. Though I don’t know what that means in context to a world that is a conglomeration of all, both old and new, but it's a catchy little tag line and I don’t want to disappoint anyone by pointing out the reality of the situation.”
I looked around. The people here were dressed fairly similar to what I had seen of the rest of the market. Perhaps just fewer layers than before and fewer patterns. It wasn’t until I spied a few individuals in suits of armor, steel plates across their breastbone and clunky greaves upon their shins, that I noticed a difference. Other than them, however, people looked fairly normal aside from the astounding amount of corsets.
“It doesn’t look that different,” I told him.
Caliban laughed. “Probably not. The vibe here is different though. More jovial, I guess. It’s like everyone is dressing up and playing pretend. It’s one of my favorite places. Everyone is a bit more relaxed around this area. Doesn’t take life all that seriously.”
Looking around, I did agree that the vibe was much calmer. The people walking by didn’t seem in as much of a rush. They carried bundles of fresh flowers while others passed small trinkets out to children. With each passing moment, my spine felt looser, and my heart was beginning to beat regularly in my chest once more.
“I was in the Deep,” I volunteered.
Caliban let out a low whistle. “Haven’t heard good things about that place.”
[[The rumors are true]]
[[I’m never going down there again]]
[[The main area is pretty but the second you stray off the coral path you’re as good as dead]]
<<set $food to "vegetarian">>I loaded my plate up with garlic tossed greens and rosemary bread while also grabbing large steaming bowls of fluffy rice. Roasted pine nuts and green beans were placed in front of me along with several large platters of root vegetables and patties made of crushed beans and savory strips of mushroom steaks. My mouth watered at the sight of it all. Even the foods I didn’t recognize I ended up grabbing. Delighted at the options before me and the way the plates seemed never ending.
Caliban picked at his own plate, waiting for me to slow down in my ravenous hunger before picking up conversation again. I noticed the way people passed us, most having a kind word or smile for him. Vendors in general gave him a side eye, but as for the people walking by, they mostly seemed to enjoy his company.
“So where were you? How’d you pop up here?” he asked. He shuffled the food around on his plate, barely eating any of it. He was a scrawny man. It was the best way to describe him. His clothes hung from his frame and the coat I noticed that he kept by his side, looked three sizes too big for him. “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit. Like you were puked out by something foul and landed here on the doorstep of the only people in the market who probably don’t care how you smell.”
I cringed a little. I probably did smell pretty atrocious.
“I don’t even know where here is,” I told him honestly, looking around at my surroundings. I could see more permanent looking structures in the distance. Mud huts with warm light spilling from the windows. They reminded me of the taverns close to the beach.
“Oh shit.” Caliban said, taking in my reaction. “Renaissance Alley. That’s what we call this. I should have led with that. It’s a little corner of the world tucked away from the rest of the Night Market, where they like to believe in the old world and not the new. Though I don’t know what that means in context to a world that is a conglomeration of all, both old and new, but it's a catchy little tag line and I don’t want to disappoint anyone by pointing out the reality of the situation.”
I looked around. The people here were dressed fairly similar to what I had seen of the rest of the market. Perhaps just fewer layers than before and fewer patterns. It wasn’t until I spied a few individuals in suits of armor, steel plates across their breastbone and clunky greaves upon their shins, that I noticed a difference. Other than them, however, people looked fairly normal aside from the astounding amount of corsets.
“It doesn’t look that different,” I told him.
Caliban laughed. “Probably not. The vibe here is different though. More jovial, I guess. It’s like everyone is dressing up and playing pretend. It’s one of my favorite places. Everyone is a bit more relaxed around this area. Doesn’t take life all that seriously.”
Looking around, I did agree that the vibe was much calmer. The people walking by didn’t seem in as much of a rush. They carried bundles of fresh flowers while others passed small trinkets out to children. With each passing moment, my spine felt looser, and my heart was beginning to beat regularly in my chest once more.
“I was in the Deep,” I volunteered.
Caliban let out a low whistle. “Haven’t heard good things about that place.”
[[The rumors are true]]
[[I’m never going down there again]]
[[The main area is pretty but the second you stray off the coral path you’re as good as dead]]
<<set $food to "vegan">>“Are there a lot of horrid rumors about that place?” I asked. He nodded to me. “Believe each and every one of them.”
Caliban gave a low whistle. “That bad, huh? I mean, I can see it was that bad. You sure you’re okay? Do we need to call a medic or something? I mean, I know I only got a peephole of what you looked like before but you seriously do look like you were chewed up.”
<<if $deepwounds == "true">> “I was almost mauled by a dragon because I had to recover a mirror,” I told him.
“Did you recover said mirror?”
“No.”
He winced in bitter sympathy. “That makes it worse.”<</if>>
Sighing, I began pushing my food around on my plate. “I’ll heal,” I told him. The Deep had left its mark on me in ways I hadn’t realized. My blood was closer to the surface, my skin having been rubbed raw from the salt. My neck was mottled from where the gills had been, and dark welts were blooming on my thighs for reasons I couldn’t even remember. Hazel would surely have something for me when I was able to get back to her. In fact, I was almost certain the moment I stepped foot in that shop, she would be whipping up tonics to cure each scratch that tattooed my skin. <<if $deepwounds == "true">>I would have to look at myself then too. So far, I had avoided seeing how bad my body looked. But given the amount of pain that screamed through me if I moved a certain way, I didn’t think it was going to be good.<</if>>
“What were you even doing down there to begin with? I thought they didn’t let people just go down. Those selkies will devour you whole.” He paused. “They play a mean game of cards though.”
[[I don’t think I can really tell you whats going on]]
[[Went down to try and contact Hazel’s brother]]
[[Needed to talk to the Baron]]“I’m never going down there again,” I told him firmly. They couldn’t pay me to go back down there. The main area where the palace sat was one thing. Even Anemone’s was charming in its own right. But the Deep itself, the place where the angler fish swam, and the ground glowed, I would happily never return. It made sense to me now why it was closed off. People like me ended up diving down wells and into the bowels of the unknown.
“That bad?” Caliban asked.
“Far worse than I want to describe,” I muttered, pushing at my food. It had been dark and devoid of anything but echoing sound. It felt like being buried beneath nothing and everything all at once.
“What were you even doing down there to begin with? I thought they didn’t let people just go down. Those selkies will devour you whole.” He paused. “They play a mean game of cards though.”
[[I don’t think I can really tell you whats going on]]
[[Went down to try and contact Hazel’s brother]]
[[Needed to talk to the Baron]]That was the thing, while my experience was lacking, the main part of the palace was beautiful. Where Anemone had set up shop was quaint and homey and the homes that dotted the coral path towards the palace gates were charming. There was no doubt that to the people who lived there, that place was a safe harbor. Yet, outsiders were not welcome. That much was clear. And despite my ability to recognized its beauty, it all felt like a watery grave still breathing at my back. My lungs still burned with the lack of oxygen and my legs ached with the effort to stay alive. Where the gills had been etched into my skin, I could still feel a raised scar.
“It’s different,” I told him. “I get why it is locked off from the rest of the market. Probably for both the protection of the land walkers and the ones who live down there.”
“What were you even doing down there to begin with? I thought they didn’t let people just go down. Those selkies will devour you whole.” He paused. “They play a mean game of cards though.”
[[I don’t think I can really tell you whats going on]]
[[Went down to try and contact Hazel’s brother]]
[[Needed to talk to the Baron]]This wasn’t the first time someone had been curious about what I was doing or what my position suddenly was within the Night Market. I doubted it would be the last. It was unclear, however, if we were supposed to be keeping this a secret. Mass hysteria felt like a problem none of us needed. I made a mental note to discuss it with the group when I was back.
“I’m not really sure if I can tell you what’s actually going on,” I told Caliban, my face twisted in apology. While I doubted that he was prone to going off and telling the rest of the market, I did have to keep in mind that I had known this man for the span of less than a day.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Fair. Fair.” He paused, holding his breath to try and keep his next words in. The effort was not strong, however, as his words burst forth a moment later. “But, like, is this about the market dying?”
My head snapped upwards. “You know about that?”
“I think quite a few people know about it,” he said blatantly. “But what do people do when they know they are killing their world? Continue on as normal.”
That sent a bitter shard straight to my heart. The idea that there were people who knew what was going on but continued on with their lives anyway, making all of this someone else's problem? It left a rotting seed of resentment in me. Something that I was all too aware could easily start to fester.
“We are trying to do something about it,” I said firmly. “My friends and I.” Though, it was beginning to feel like it was more on me than them. They were there in some ways, but they didn’t have to go down into the Deep. They hadn’t been the ones meeting with the Book Baron. And whoever had sent me the Harbor Master ring had sent it to me and me alone.
Caliban raised a brow towards me, clearly seeing the furrow that was settling between my eyes. “Well, you’re better people than me,” he said after a moment.
“You could help.” He should help. Everyone should, in the end. This was their world, and I wasn’t so certain it was mine.
Leaning back, he sucked in a puff of air through his teeth. “Nope. Policy. Don’t get involved.”
I had heard it before. Back in the cells.
[[That’s a cop out]]
[[No, I get it]]
[[Why not?]]“Hazel, the woman I live with, had a brother who died quite a few years ago. We heard there was a medium down there that might be able to help us contact him.”
Caliban’s blue eyes went wide as he leaned forward across the table. “Oh shit. Did you?”
“I don’t know. Everything is kind of muzzy. We contacted something. I know that. Whether or not we can definitely say it was him I don’t know.” <<if $deepghosts == "true">> But there was something else. A truth that was sticking to me. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it caused my head to twitch to the side and my eyes to flicker shut. There was an empty spot in my head. One that was fresher than all the others I had encounter. But why?<</if>>
“You have been doing far more with your days than I have,” Caliban said, sitting back in his seat. “Adventure is usually my shtick and yet here you are, showing me up.”
“You can have it back,” I told him.
“Nah. You keep it. Besides, if you didn’t know, the market is dying. There’s going to be enough adventure on our plates soon enough.”
My head snapped upwards. “You know about that?”
“I think quite a few people know about it,” he said blatantly. “But what do people do when they know they are killing their world? Continue on as normal.”
That sent a bitter shard straight to my heart. The idea that there were people who knew what was going on but continued on with their lives anyway, making all of this someone else's problem? It left a rotting seed of resentment in me. Something that I was all too aware could easily start to fester.
“We are trying to do something about it,” I said firmly. “My friends and I.” Though, it was beginning to feel like it was more on me than them. They were there in some ways, but they didn’t have to go down into the Deep. They hadn’t been the ones meeting with the Book Baron. And whoever had sent me the Harbor Master ring had sent it to me and me alone.
Caliban raised a brow towards me, clearly seeing the furrow that was settling between my eyes. “Well, you’re better people than me,” he said after a moment.
“You could help.” He should help. Everyone should, in the end. This was their world, and I wasn’t so certain it was mine.
Leaning back, he sucked in a puff of air through his teeth. “Nope. Policy. Don’t get involved.”
I had heard it before. Back in the cells.
[[That’s a cop out]]
[[No, I get it]]
[[Why not?]]“I needed an audience with Lady Kamille,” I said, leaving out the Baron title. I didn’t think it was one I should really flaunt. Caliban, however, thought differently.
“A Baron, huh? Trying to grease some palms.” Several sets of eyes looked our way, and he sheepishly ducked his head. “Sorry. I talk too much and too loudly.” He made a zipping motion with his mouth before gesturing for me to continue.
“It’s okay. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be keeping all this under wraps or not. I mean, the reason we are contacting the Barons is for the good of everyone. Keeping things hushed is more to keep the panic to a minimum.”
He mumbled something at me from behind pursed lips, gesturing wildly in the air. I couldn’t help the small laugh that came unbidden as he sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumped. Slowly, he ‘unzipped’ his lips.
“Is this about the market dying?”
My head snapped upwards. “You know about that?”
“I think quite a few people know about it,” he said blatantly. “But what do people do when they know they are killing their world? Continue on as normal.”
That sent a bitter shard straight to my heart. The idea that there were people who knew what was going on but continued on with their lives anyway, making all of this someone else's problem? It left a rotting seed of resentment in me. Something that I was all too aware could easily start to fester.
“We are trying to do something about it,” I said firmly. “My friends and I.” Though, it was beginning to feel like it was more on me than them. They were there in some ways, but they didn’t have to go down into the Deep. They hadn’t been the ones meeting with the Book Baron. And whoever had sent me the Harbor Master ring had sent it to me and me alone.
Caliban raised a brow towards me, clearly seeing the furrow that was settling between my eyes. “Well, you’re better people than me,” he said after a moment.
“You could help.” He should help. Everyone should, in the end. This was their world, and I wasn’t so certain it was mine.
Leaning back, he sucked in a puff of air through his teeth. “Nope. Policy. Don’t get involved.”
I had heard it before. Back in the cells.
[[That’s a cop out]]
[[No, I get it]]
[[Why not?]]I stared him down from across the table, feeling my own ire rise. Around me, countless numbers of people passed, some of which may very well have known the fate of the market. Yet, they still pretended like it was nothing. Like this entire ordeal was just a distant game that they would never have to play.
“Your policy is a cop out,” I told him.
He laughed a little, but it was laced with old hurts. “Could be,” he agreed. “But it’s served me well the last bit of my life. I’m not about to change something that isn’t broke.”
“There’s going to be nothing to change if I don’t succeed.”
When he lifted his baby blues eyes to me, it was with a sad smile. “Then I really hope you do succeed.”
Caliban paused, looking at me with an unreadable smile. It was one that didn’t reach his eyes and was laced with old scars. I could see something lingering beneath his expression, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.
“I wish I could help you, $eyecolor eyes. I really do. But I came to the Night Market to get away from the world ending stuff. Not to cast my hat right back into it all,” he said earnestly. Something far more sad than I thought possible tinged the edges of his expression. A flutter of pain that was so raw and fresh flickered across him in a coat of unhealed lesions. “Besides, I get involved, and I can guarantee you, you’ll have more problems than you need. Especially if your plan hinges on Barons.”
The buzz in my head grew exponentially louder and the clawing grab of panic threatened to tear at my chest once more. Pushing my food away, I rubbed at my face, quelling the nausea I felt over what I would have to do in the upcoming days, and just how lonely it felt like it was going to be.
“Finish up,” Caliban said with a nod towards my food. “We’ll go for a bit of a walk. Take in the alley a bit more.”
[[Next|Chapter Seven 5]]
I slumped back on the bench, my eyes cast down to the food that never seemed to cool. “No,” I said softly. “I get it. Half the time I’m not even sure why I’m doing this to begin with. Why get involved unless you have to, right?”
Caliban winced, my words have struck him in a way that he didn’t entirely feel comfortable with.
Caliban paused, looking at me with an unreadable smile. It was one that didn’t reach his eyes and was laced with old scars. I could see something lingering beneath his expression, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.
“I wish I could help you, $eyecolor eyes. I really do. But I came to the Night Market to get away from the world ending stuff. Not to cast my hat right back into it all,” he said earnestly. Something far more sad than I thought possible tinged the edges of his expression. A flutter of pain that was so raw and fresh flickered across him in a coat of unhealed lesions. “Besides, I get involved, and I can guarantee you, you’ll have more problems than you need. Especially if your plan hinges on Barons.”
The buzz in my head grew exponentially louder and the clawing grab of panic threatened to tear at my chest once more. Pushing my food away, I rubbed at my face, quelling the nausea I felt over what I would have to do in the upcoming days, and just how lonely it felt like it was going to be.
“Finish up,” Caliban said with a nod towards my food. “We’ll go for a bit of a walk. Take in the alley a bit more.”
[[Next|Chapter Seven 5]]
“Why?” It was the least he owed me for bowing out. I didn’t tink avoidance and deflection was warranted if someone said the world was dying. At least, I didn’t think it should be. So, if that was going to be his excuse, I wanted a reason why.
“Puts me too much in the eye of the storm.”
“But if you’re not in the eye of the storm, aren’t you running the risk of there being no storm to even be in?” I asked. It was the one sticking point I couldn’t quite get past. Why would no one help when they all ran the risk of not having a world to exist in any further?
Caliban paused, looking at me with an unreadable smile. It was one that didn’t reach his eyes and was laced with old scars. I could see something lingering beneath his expression, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.
“I wish I could help you, $eyecolor eyes. I really do. But I came to the Night Market to get away from the world ending stuff. Not to cast my hat right back into it all,” he said earnestly. Something far more sad than I thought possible tinged the edges of his expression. A flutter of pain that was so raw and fresh flickered across him in a coat of unhealed lesions. “Besides, I get involved, and I can guarantee you, you’ll have more problems than you need. Especially if your plan hinges on Barons.”
The buzz in my head grew exponentially louder and the clawing grab of panic threatened to tear at my chest once more. Pushing my food away, I rubbed at my face, quelling the nausea I felt over what I would have to do in the upcoming days, and just how lonely it felt like it was going to be.
“Finish up,” Caliban said with a nod towards my food. “We’ll go for a bit of a walk. Take in the alley a bit more.”
[[Next|Chapter Seven 5]]
The alley itself felt like it was never ending. As we walked around, more and more stalls appeared, interspersed with scattered communal tables. Some were under trees. Others under doe skin tents. Small thatched huts occasionally cropped up with dark wood stained beams stretching across their white exterior. Caliban explained to me that was where the coin was mainly spent. Inns and small taverns that offered a variety of rooms.
“Even native Night Market patrons have got to have a little vacation spot of sorts,” he said, pointing to a bed and breakfast.
As we passed a long stretch of field next to the horse stables, I couldn’t help but notice the tiered seating that stacked on the sidelines. It looked like a stadium of some sort, with one long beam bisecting the area of play.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Jousting,” he said. “Game of sorts where riders beat each other with long poles. Barbaric to some but a hell of a lot of fun to most. Plus, there are sweaty men and women in thick bits of metal armor. I enjoy this to no end.”
The poles in question were all lined up against a small stand. They stood at least ten feet tall and looked tapered at the end. I doubted it was fun to get hit with. Though now the armor I had seen from earlier made far more sense.
“You should come down here for a tournament,” he was saying. “It’s a great time. People eating turkey legs. Drunken revelry. Sword fights that sometimes happen with the knights and sometimes with just the civilians. It’s a sight you won’t want to miss.”
It actually sounded nice. A small break perhaps to the chaos that was beginning to unwind before me.
[[What exactly do you do here in the market?]]
[[Do you live in Renaissance Alley?]]
“So tell me,” I started, following him through the pock-marked dirt streets and laughing crowds. “What does someone like you do in the market? Aside from getting arrested.”
“As little as possible,” he grinned. The huts and inns were thinning out around us, leaving us predominantly in pine cover. Caliban pushed at a large iron gate, gesturing for me to step through. “I worked myself to the bone in my old job, and now I try to not get trapped in any one thing.”
“So you are a free agent then?”
“Free spirit,” he corrected. Holding his arms out wide he tipped his head upwards to catch the proverbial rain on his tongue. “I go where the wind takes me.”
“And where does the wind usually take you.”
His arms dropped. “To the gambling halls. Occasionally to the soft warm beds of sleep roused company who wishes to share a night. And if all else fails? Reese.”
I laughed at that. Caliban was a man that certainly knew how to spin a word or a tale, leaving me wondering if anything he said was ever true. It was fun to listen to, regardless.
“This is me,” he said, stopping outside a stone building. The alley had been left behind us and now what sprawled in front of me was far different from the minstrel doused streets and community tables we had left behind.
I looked up. The lanterns looked completely burnt out, shredded and unusable even after the festival. They hung in tattered strips front frayed wires up above. The building in question was a bombed out shell of a turret, or maybe just a castle wall. There were parts about it though that looked out of place. Like the building had been an amalgamation of several different styles. All of which had merged together when hit with a wrecking ball.
“There,” he said, pointing to an open area where the wind rustled a few tarps that looked like they were meant to be curtains of some sort.
[[This looks… lovely]]
[[I am pretty sure this place is abandoned]]
[[I just had monsters jumping out of me from the dark. I’m not going in there]]“Is this where you live?” I asked him. Overall, it wouldn’t have been that bad of a place to make a home. It felt a little more lived in than the rest of the market. Commerce and family mingling into one interwoven society. Here, people felt a lot friendlier. Hazel would have been better suited in an area like this, as opposed to the very end of a burnt out alley.
“Above it,” he said, nodding a little at some looming buildings ahead. “I like being up high. Call it the bird in me. Taking you back to mine right now, actually. Figured we can talk for a bit. You look like you might need it.”
I wondered if I looked that bad. After the Deep, I was sure I did. Then again, he had seen me alone in a cell, ready to be thrown into a cage to be auctioned. I didn’t know if I could look much worse. Emotionally, at least. The scars and mottled bruises dotting my skin were a clear indicator of just how well I had done on my mission.
“Live with anyone?” I asked. Mainly, I was thinking of his friend Reese.
“No. Just me. I’m not a superb roommate. I at least know that about myself.” Pushing open a heavy iron gate, he took me to the outskirts of the trees, near where the buildings began to look a bit more stone like than packed mud. “Here we are.”
I looked up. The lanterns looked completely burnt out, shredded and unusable even after the festival. They hung in tattered strips front frayed wires up above. The building in question was a bombed out shell of a turret, or maybe just a castle wall. There were parts about it though that looked out of place. Like the building had been an amalgamation of several different styles. All of which had merged together when hit with a wrecking ball.
“There,” he said, pointing to an open area where the wind rustled a few tarps that looked like they were meant to be curtains of some sort.
[[This looks… lovely]]
[[I am pretty sure this place is abandoned]]
[[I just had monsters jumping out of me from the dark. I’m not going in there]]I stared at the flapping tarp and the way the building looked covered in soot. Dark smudges stained the street around us where heaps of crumpled papers and broken down crates hid in the darker corners beyond.
“This looks… lovely,” I tried. I didn’t want to insult the man, but I was pretty certain that the place was not fit for most to live.
“Ah, thanks. I don’t bring many people here,” he was saying. And I easily could tell why.
The inside we stepped into was just as bad as the out. The walls were crumbling, thick with some sort of mold and the light was nothing more than a faint glow from a few candles that he probably had to light himself each day. Caliban led me to an old grate like structure. A lift, he had proudly exclaimed at my confused look. Stepping inside the rickety box, he pressed a few buttons and the box began to rattle, guiding up towards the top of the building. It stopped with a jerk, jostling the two of us back and forth to where I had to place my hands steady on the walls. Caliban pulled back the iron gate, the only thing protecting us from falling that entire journey, revealing a room full of… stuff.
Boxes leaned against the walls, stacked in threes and fours. Piles upon piles of clothes were strewn across the room, along with some well-worn books and a few trinkets that looked tarnished. Caliban walked over to a metal box that hung to our right, suctioned to the dirty brick interior. His hand wrapped around a red lever and as he flipped it upwards, the room filled with soft light. Little bulbs of flickering flame were strung from the rafters, running down the sides of the structure and wrapping around old picture frames. The glow reflected across old and tarnished mirrors, bouncing across the room and somehow turning the piles of junk, into something warm and cozy.
[[You are a hoarder]]
[[Is all this stuff yours?]]
[[How long have you lived here?|Chapter seven how long have you lived here]]“Caliban,” I started, staring at the thing and trying to find one nice part of the building. There definitely was none. “I am pretty sure this building is abandoned.”
"I assure you it's not. Mainly because I took down those signs."
The inside we stepped into was just as bad as the out. The walls were crumbling, thick with some sort of mold and the light was nothing more than a faint glow from a few candles that he probably had to light himself each day. Caliban led me to an old grate like structure. A lift, he had proudly exclaimed at my confused look. Stepping inside the rickety box, he pressed a few buttons and the box began to rattle, guiding up towards the top of the building. It stopped with a jerk, jostling the two of us back and forth to where I had to place my hands steady on the walls. Caliban pulled back the iron gate, the only thing protecting us from falling that entire journey, revealing a room full of… stuff.
Boxes leaned against the walls, stacked in threes and fours. Piles upon piles of clothes were strewn across the room, along with some well-worn books and a few trinkets that looked tarnished. Caliban walked over to a metal box that hung to our right, suctioned to the dirty brick interior. His hand wrapped around a red lever and as he flipped it upwards, the room filled with soft light. Little bulbs of flickering flame were strung from the rafters, running down the sides of the structure and wrapping around old picture frames. The glow reflected across old and tarnished mirrors, bouncing across the room and somehow turning the piles of junk, into something warm and cozy.
[[You are a hoarder]]
[[Is all this stuff yours?]]
[[How long have you lived here?|Chapter seven how long have you lived here]]Black smudges stained the side of the stone in deep scratches while something rustled in the dark. “Nope,” I declared. “No way. I just had monsters jumping out at me. I’m not going in there.”
Caliban laughed as if I was joking but took my arm all the same, practically having to drag me inside.
The inside we stepped into was just as bad as the out. The walls were crumbling, thick with some sort of mold and the light was nothing more than a faint glow from a few candles that he probably had to light himself each day. Caliban led me to an old grate like structure. A lift, he had proudly exclaimed at my confused look. Stepping inside the rickety box, he pressed a few buttons and the box began to rattle, guiding up towards the top of the building. It stopped with a jerk, jostling the two of us back and forth to where I had to place my hands steady on the walls. Caliban pulled back the iron gate, the only thing protecting us from falling that entire journey, revealing a room full of… stuff.
Boxes leaned against the walls, stacked in threes and fours. Piles upon piles of clothes were strewn across the room, along with some well-worn books and a few trinkets that looked tarnished. Caliban walked over to a metal box that hung to our right, suctioned to the dirty brick interior. His hand wrapped around a red lever and as he flipped it upwards, the room filled with soft light. Little bulbs of flickering flame were strung from the rafters, running down the sides of the structure and wrapping around old picture frames. The glow reflected across old and tarnished mirrors, bouncing across the room and somehow turning the piles of junk, into something warm and cozy.
[[You are a hoarder]]
[[Is all this stuff yours?]]
[[How long have you lived here?|Chapter seven how long have you lived here]]“You realize you’re a hoarder, right?”
Caliban stumbled back, hand to his chest. “You wound me. My delicate heart is shattered into pieces.” I rolled my eyes at him as we maneuvered through all his stuff. There was one clear pathway, but the rest of the room was piles of collected trinkets that I was almost positive were holding up certain sections of the building at this point.
"This is a health condition, you know," I pointed out. "You probably have rats living under all this."
He laughed and I couldn't help but notice how he didn't deny it. Holding out his hand, he helped me sidestep a few boxes filled with children's toys. A small owl stuffed animal was placed proudly within, along with a small figurine of a wolf and a soft blanket. I raised a brow as I looked at him.
“I didn’t steal children's toys,” he said hastily. “Beside, those are shit for betting in card games.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t actually know. Sometimes stuff just appears here. Sometimes it's taken away. I try not to question it too much and leave it be. Figure things just kind of come and go as needed.” The curtains I had seen from down below were moved aside to showcase a little set of rickety stairs. “Now, come on. I’m going to show you the best damn sight in all the market.”
[[Next|Chapter Seven 6]]I stood there, not sure where I could even go in the intricate maze of things he had collected. My eyes wandered the room, flitting to one pile to the next, no single one containing anything remotely similar. It looked as if the Night Market had dumped an entire district into this building and Caliban had simply moved in and claimed it all.
“What is all this?” I asked, running my hands across a bowl with broken runic stones. “It can’t possibly all be yours.”
“Stuff I’ve won in cards games,” he said with a shrug. “And stuff I’ve stolen.”
“But why?” I had lived in the Night Market now for nearly two months and had collected barely anything. I couldn't imagine the amount of time it would take to collect all of this.
“Never know when you’re going to need something. For example, what if I needed a disguise. Or an amulet that offered me endless charm. Or a–”
“Gold crown?”
Caliban ticked his gaze over at the gold leaf crown in question. “I can melt that down for money you know.”
“Thieves don’t need money,” I pointed out to them. Unless it was something they also collected. “And besides, I don’t think you’re much of a thief. Except maybe when it comes to food.”
He laughed at that, helping me sidestep a few boxes filled with children's toys. A small owl stuffed animal was placed proudly within, along with a small figurine of a wolf and a soft blanket. I raised a brow as I looked at him.
“I didn’t steal children's toys,” he said hastily. “Beside, those are shit for betting in card games.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t actually know. Sometimes stuff just appears here. Sometimes it's taken away. I try not to question it too much and leave it be. Figure things just kind of come and go as needed.” The curtains I had seen from down below were moved aside to showcase a little set of rickety stairs. “Now, come on. I’m going to show you the best damn sight in all the market.”
[[Next|Chapter Seven 6]]“How long have you lived here?” I asked. The amount o things that were piled up rivaled any dragon horde out there. There was no way he had just casually collected it all.
“Do you want the canned answer or the truth?” He was climbing over a pile of rounded disks. They looked flimsy and had a black shine to them.
“Both?”
“Canned answer? Time is funny. It’s hard to tell in a place such as the Night Market.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “Truth? Ten years, three months, and four days. In this timeline, at least.”
I let out a low whistle. “That’s quite the memory you got.”
“You have no idea,” he grinned.
When he nearly tripped, I went to his side, grasping his elbow and steadying him. "You might want to think of getting rid of a few things."
It was the first time he actually looked offended. Somehow, I could feel it through the hold I had on him. “Never know when you’re going to need something. For example, what if I needed a disguise. Or an amulet that offered me endless charm. Or a–”
“Gold crown?”
Caliban ticked his gaze over at the gold leaf crown in question. “I can melt that down for money you know.”
“Thieves don’t need money,” I pointed out to them. Unless it was something they also collected. “And besides, I don’t think you’re much of a thief. Except maybe when it comes to food.”
He laughed at that, helping me sidestep a few boxes filled with children's toys. A small owl stuffed animal was placed proudly within, along with a small figurine of a wolf and a soft blanket. I raised a brow as I looked at him.
“I didn’t steal children's toys,” he said hastily. “Beside, those are shit for betting in card games.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t actually know. Sometimes stuff just appears here. Sometimes it's taken away. I try not to question it too much and leave it be. Figure things just kind of come and go as needed.” The curtains I had seen from down below were moved aside to showcase a little set of rickety stairs. “Now, come on. I’m going to show you the best damn sight in all the market.”
[[Next|Chapter Seven 6]]Slipping out the window we made our way up to the top of a sloping terracotta roof. Stars spilled across the sky in little tears of silver ink. Far, far away from the lantern light they shone as they were supposed to as opposed to the cut-out illusions that someone pasted into the sky we saw from below. It was breathtaking. Only once had I seen something similar, and it was when I had first exited the cells near the ocean. I had looked up and could only see stars. Now that I was thinking about it, I don’t think I had seen them since.
“I’ll never understand why they hide them with lanterns,” Caliban said. He spread a blanket out on the rounded roof tiles. It was threadbare and looked as if it should have been tossed along with most of the other stuff downstairs. But when I sat next to him, and he wrapped another grey one around my shoulders, I felt warmth that I hadn’t felt since walking through the cold spray of the ocean.
“I forget that you’re not from here,” I told him after a minute. “Most of the people I know have lived here so long that they don’t even question the oddities about the market.”
“I’ve only been here for five years now? Maybe less. I lost track of time somewhere in all this adventure.” Settling next to me, Caliban leaned back, spreading his long legs out before him and resting on his forearms.
“Why’d you come here?” I asked, tucking my chin to my knees. There was a curiosity that I had been slowly mulling over. Refugees fleeing for their lives and making a new home within the market made sense. But did others just come and refuse to leave? Or did they forget about the worlds they had once dwelled within.
He laughed. Caliban laughed a lot, I noticed. Though, it wasn’t always with humor. This one felt shaky somehow, broken at each edge and laced with an unknown that was forever following him. Running his hand through his hair he crooked one knee towards his chest. “Why does anyone come to the night market? To escape their hell.”
[[Did your world die?]]
[[I’m sorry. That sounds terrible]]
[[You don’t have to tell me]]“Did your world die too?” So many people had fled to the Night Market through open gates. Their last bastion of hope. It made my heart ache at the thought of the now dying world itself. The Night Market had opened their arms to people that had no other choice, and were now paying the price for it. But what was the alternative.
“No,” Caliban said softly. “No. Nothing like that. My world is very much still intact out there. Their end is foretold, but I don’t think it’s upon them yet. Good riddance if it is.”
The cracked words were nothing but lies. Even I could see that. Homesickness lingered despite how hard he was trying to convince me otherwise.
Caliban sighed a little, rubbing his face with one hand. The night air was cool up here and the surrounding world was quiet. Even the music from down below was faint, twirling into nothing more than a distant wind. “I uh– I worked for someone that, well, he liked to keep control of me. I was his go to for a job but when I messed up… Anyway, it- it wasn’t good. But I didn’t realize it wasn’t good. Not until my tether snapped.”
“Tether?”
“Oh uh–” he shifted uncomfortably. “Magical piece of cord I had wrapped around my neck.” Pulling down the collar of his shirt, he revealed a faint line just where his neck met his collarbone. “Was used to keep me obedient. I didn’t mind really. I- I need direction in life. I– my magic is– it’s just that…” he trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that tether snapped, and I was free from it all. I tried to go back, but I ended up stumbling here instead and, well, here I am. In and out of jail cells and just learning what life actually means.”
[[You were held against your will?]]
[[What kind of job requires you to be held under magical influence?]]
[[Caliban, I don’t know what your situation was, but it wasn’t okay]]Pulling my blanket a bit closer to myself, I looked at him sadly. “That sounds terrible. I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, not really meeting my eyes. There was a weight that I could see now. One that cast him in a heavy shroud. “It wasn’t so bad.” But they sounded like the world of a man trying to convince himself that his experience was better than it was. “There were some good things about it all.”
Eyes ticking back and forth, I could tell he was searching for something. Maybe for someone. Whatever it was, he peered into the darkness, out into the night sky, pausing his words until he was satisfied that no one was looking back.
Caliban sighed a little, rubbing his face with one hand. The night air was cool up here and the surrounding world was quiet. Even the music from down below was faint, twirling into nothing more than a distant wind. “I uh– I worked for someone that, well, he liked to keep control of me. I was his go to for a job but when I messed up… Anyway, it- it wasn’t good. But I didn’t realize it wasn’t good. Not until my tether snapped.”
“Tether?”
“Oh uh–” he shifted uncomfortably. “Magical piece of cord I had wrapped around my neck.” Pulling down the collar of his shirt, he revealed a faint line just where his neck met his collarbone. “Was used to keep me obedient. I didn’t mind really. I- I need direction in life. I– my magic is– it’s just that…” he trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that tether snapped, and I was free from it all. I tried to go back, but I ended up stumbling here instead and, well, here I am. In and out of jail cells and just learning what life actually means.”
[[You were held against your will?]]
[[What kind of job requires you to be held under magical influence?]]
[[Caliban, I don’t know what your situation was, but it wasn’t okay]]“You don’t have to tell me,” I assured him. This man was someone I had known for a handful of moments and while I felt a connection to him all the same, by the pain spilling across his voice, I was unsure if this was something he even wanted to talk about. Let alone to someone like me.
Then again, from what I had gathered, while Caliban was well-loved, he was a man that didn’t have many people in his life. The state of his home was proof enough that he found more company with things than he did other individuals.
Caliban sighed a little, rubbing his face with one hand. The night air was cool up here and the surrounding world was quiet. Even the music from down below was faint, twirling into nothing more than a distant wind. “I uh– I worked for someone that, well, he liked to keep control of me. I was his go to for a job but when I messed up… Anyway, it- it wasn’t good. But I didn’t realize it wasn’t good. Not until my tether snapped.”
“Tether?”
“Oh uh–” he shifted uncomfortably. “Magical piece of cord I had wrapped around my neck.” Pulling down the collar of his shirt, he revealed a faint line just where his neck met his collarbone. “Was used to keep me obedient. I didn’t mind really. I- I need direction in life. I– my magic is– it’s just that…” he trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that tether snapped, and I was free from it all. I tried to go back, but I ended up stumbling here instead and, well, here I am. In and out of jail cells and just learning what life actually means.”
[[You were held against your will?]]
[[What kind of job requires you to be held under magical influence?]]
[[Caliban, I don’t know what your situation was, but it wasn’t okay]]I wasn’t sure if there was horror or sorrow etched across my face, but I stared at him, watching him nervously shift from side to side. This was obviously something he didn’t talk about. “You were held against your will?”
“What? No. No. Of course not,” he quickly tried to defend. “I could go. Anytime.”
Yet, his hasty words belied the truth. Someone who could go anytime didn’t usually have the scar of a cord around their neck. “So why didn’t you?”
“Because my job was important,” he said, almost to himself. “He needed me. I couldn’t let him down like that after everything he gave to me.”
The //he// in question wasn’t important. Part of me hoped the world he was from was gone and whoever that man that had kept Caliban under control, was gone with it. As I watched the way Caliban’s eyes began to flicker across the rooftop and his fingers tap against the tiles, I felt my heart ache.
“But if he needed you, and it wasn’t like how it sounds, why didn’t you go back?” I asked gently. I wanted him to see the failed logic he was using and how his words were a twist of hidden emotion.
“I really did try,” he said, turning to me with wide eyes. “You have to believe me. I did. I wandered in the snow for days, looking for a way back to the castle. But I think I was too far from home and, I don’t know, I just… I met this guy while I was wandering. It was–” his face screwed up. “He was nice to me. Took care of me. In no uncertain terms told me not to go back home. He’s the one that directed me here. And I took the opportunity.”
“But–”
“No buts,” he said quickly. “I love it here. But I wasn’t held against my will. It was a job. People leave their jobs all the time,” he reasoned. “And I might go back still. Maybe. Probably not.” He frowned, seeming to catch the inconsistency in his own words.
His fingers flexed against the fabric of his too loose shirt and his eyes were cast out into the sea of stars. I looked at the mark burned into his neck. It was faint after all this time, but it was still there. A reminder of what he once was and what he had to do. I suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of sorrow for this man who had been my line of support within the cells. My first kind point of contact upon entering the Night Market. Briefly, I hoped that he had had someone that did the same for him when he first showed up on these cobblestoned streets. But I doubted everyone was so lucky.
Clearing his throat, Caliban shrugged a little. “Not that it matters. Any of this. Probably going to have to leave here, eventually.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, ducking his head into his shoulder and rubbing his face against the fabric of his tunic in an act of comfort. “Just a feeling I have. Like an itch at the back of my neck. Keep feeling like someone's watching me.”
[[So you’ll run]]
[[Why not stay and face it?]]
[[You could ask your friends for help]]My mind was reeling. What Caliban seemed to so casually say didn’t fit right in what I knew of the world. The idea that it was a norm within the world he came from sent my stomach twisting, however. “What kind of job requires you to be held under magical influence?” I asked slowly.
“I wasn’t held,” he said quickly. “I could have left at any time. I could have.” His voice was a shaky mess and his hands were now running across the rooftop tiles in a nervous tick. “I was a spy though. I kept the memories of others and reported them to our, I guess you would call him a King. Ruler. I don’t know. I just reported what I heard and saw. And the tether wasn’t to keep me in control. My job was dangerous. It was to ensure I came home. And to keep my magic tampered. I have too much of it, and sometimes it would cause problems.”
“Problems?”
He nodded, a little unsteady. “Yeah. When my emotions got too high. My magic would become wild, and it would make people uncomfortable. Put me in danger. The tether was better.”
“You don’t look like a danger now,” I told him gently.
“Well no. Because the Night Market takes your magic. This is probably the only place in the world that is safe for me to be,” he reasoned. I didn’t say anything in return. My heart ached for the tremor in his voice and the way his eyes went wide and panicked as we continued to talk. As if he said one wrong word and someone would punish him for it.
His fingers flexed against the fabric of his too loose shirt and his eyes were cast out into the sea of stars. I looked at the mark burned into his neck. It was faint after all this time, but it was still there. A reminder of what he once was and what he had to do. I suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of sorrow for this man who had been my line of support within the cells. My first kind point of contact upon entering the Night Market. Briefly, I hoped that he had had someone that did the same for him when he first showed up on these cobblestoned streets. But I doubted everyone was so lucky.
Clearing his throat, Caliban shrugged a little. “Not that it matters. Any of this. Probably going to have to leave here, eventually.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, ducking his head into his shoulder and rubbing his face against the fabric of his tunic in an act of comfort. “Just a feeling I have. Like an itch at the back of my neck. Keep feeling like someone's watching me.”
[[So you’ll run]]
[[Why not stay and face it?]]
[[You could ask your friends for help]]I looked at him. At the way his eyes now flicked around the dark and the nervous twitch of his hands that now tapped across the rooftop. His entire demeanor had changed. Almost as if he was certain he would be punished for whatever he was about to say.
“Caliban,” I started gently. “I don’t know what your situation was back home, but it doesn’t sound like what happened to you was okay.”
His eyes jerked to me. I noticed they were a bit darker than before. A deep blue bordering on black as opposed to the soft baby blues from before. “You’re right,” he snapped. “You don’t know my situation. It was fine. It had some problems but it was fine. Me being here is probably messing a lot of things up. You view it as good that I escaped, but it's not. It’s selfish. I’m incredibly selfish, actually. If you only knew.”
Whether or not he was selfish was the least of my concerns. What bothered me more was his ability to convince himself of a different history than the one that clearly showed against his skin.
“I’m sorry,” I told him gently, not wishing for him to feel attacked. “I spoke without knowing the entire truth. I just don’t like seeing you hurt.” Or afraid. And that was an emotion that clouded every bit of him.
His fingers flexed against the fabric of his too loose shirt and his eyes were cast out into the sea of stars. I looked at the mark burned into his neck. It was faint after all this time, but it was still there. A reminder of what he once was and what he had to do. I suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of sorrow for this man who had been my line of support within the cells. My first kind point of contact upon entering the Night Market. Briefly, I hoped that he had had someone that did the same for him when he first showed up on these cobblestoned streets. But I doubted everyone was so lucky.
Clearing his throat, Caliban shrugged a little. “Not that it matters. Any of this. Probably going to have to leave here, eventually.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, ducking his head into his shoulder and rubbing his face against the fabric of his tunic in an act of comfort. “Just a feeling I have. Like an itch at the back of my neck. Keep feeling like someone's watching me.”
[[So you’ll run]]
[[Why not stay and face it?]]
[[You could ask your friends for help]]“So you’ll run?” I asked. “Just like that?” Caliban loved the Night Market. That much was very clear. Despite not knowing him well, the market seemed like it would feel a bit empty without him.
“I am a coward, $eyecolor eyes,” he laughed bitterly. “Besides, I’m not good at much but running. That I excel at.”
Shifting a little, he shook his shoulders, like a bird ruffling his feathers. I could see the weight of the conversation come off him in rolls. “Doesn’t matter. New place might not be so bad. Besides, the Night Market will always be here.” He winced. “Oh. unless it’s… not.”
“Yeah.” That was the reality in the end. Even if I wanted to help Caliban, I was already dedicated to something far great. I just had to hope that saving the Night Market offered him a safe space to rest. At least now, I no longer blamed him for not wishing to help. The brand of his tether was a stark reminder that I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes from wandering towards.
Scratching the back of his neck, Caliban sighed a little, the awkwardness sitting between us. “Look, you don’t always have to do what you’re destined to do,” he said after a long moment.
“I’m not sure if this even is my destiny. Or if destiny even exists. This was kind of just thrust upon me.”
“Well, fuck that.” His words startled me, allowing some of the heaviness to begin to slip down the roof and become someone else's problem. “If it’s not even some big foretold thing, why are you even concerning yourself?”
[[Because I don’t know what else to do]]
[[Because I don’t want to see people die]]
[[Because I’m hoping to find answers for myself]]“I don’t know you well,” I began, “but no one should ever have to feel like they have to run away from their home. Why not stay and face whatever it is that’s driving you out?”
He laughed. “Because I’m a coward. Self professed one and everything. I am not a fighter $eyecolor eyes. Never have been. Never will be.”
Shifting a little, he shook his shoulders, like a bird ruffling his feathers. I could see the weight of the conversation come off him in rolls. “Doesn’t matter. New place might not be so bad. Besides, the Night Market will always be here.” He winced. “Oh. unless it’s… not.”
“Yeah.” That was the reality in the end. Even if I wanted to help Caliban, I was already dedicated to something far great. I just had to hope that saving the Night Market offered him a safe space to rest. At least now, I no longer blamed him for not wishing to help. The brand of his tether was a stark reminder that I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes from wandering towards.
Scratching the back of his neck, Caliban sighed a little, the awkwardness sitting between us. “Look, you don’t always have to do what you’re destined to do,” he said after a long moment.
“I’m not sure if this even is my destiny. Or if destiny even exists. This was kind of just thrust upon me.”
“Well, fuck that.” His words startled me, allowing some of the heaviness to begin to slip down the roof and become someone else's problem. “If it’s not even some big foretold thing, why are you even concerning yourself?”
[[Because I don’t know what else to do]]
[[Because I don’t want to see people die]]
[[Because I’m hoping to find answers for myself]]“You don’t have to run,” I told him. “You could ask for help. You’ve been here for five years. Don’t you have anyone that would protect you from whatever this is?” If there even was something looming on his horizon.
“I have a lot of conversations,” he told me. “I have a few bed companions. But do I trust any of them? Not on my life.” Rolling his head to me, he gave me an apologetic smile. Though, I couldn’t say I blamed him for any of what he said.
Shifting a little, he shook his shoulders, like a bird ruffling his feathers. I could see the weight of the conversation come off him in rolls. “Doesn’t matter. New place might not be so bad. Besides, the Night Market will always be here.” He winced. “Oh. unless it’s… not.”
“Yeah.” That was the reality in the end. Even if I wanted to help Caliban, I was already dedicated to something far great. I just had to hope that saving the Night Market offered him a safe space to rest. At least now, I no longer blamed him for not wishing to help. The brand of his tether was a stark reminder that I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes from wandering towards.
Scratching the back of his neck, Caliban sighed a little, the awkwardness sitting between us. “Look, you don’t always have to do what you’re destined to do,” he said after a long moment.
“I’m not sure if this even is my destiny. Or if destiny even exists. This was kind of just thrust upon me.”
“Well, fuck that.” His words startled me, allowing some of the heaviness to begin to slip down the roof and become someone else's problem. “If it’s not even some big foretold thing, why are you even concerning yourself?”
[[Because I don’t know what else to do]]
[[Because I don’t want to see people die]]
[[Because I’m hoping to find answers for myself]]Besides the obvious moral reasons, why was I doing this. I had been here far less time than the people I surrounded myself with and yet the responsibility was crushingly put on my shoulders. I hadn’t once refused. I hadn’t walked away. It occurred to me now that I could. Disappear somewhere in this district. Perhaps even run away with this blue-eyed man. I could refuse to go back to the apothecary and let this world crumble. Or at the very least, let the responsibility of this all fall on someone else's shoulders.
But I wouldn’t. I knew I wouldn’t.
“Because I don’t know what else to do,” I admitted. “It feels like a terrible thing to say but there it is. From the get go, I just fell into all this. I don’t know if I ever wanted to say no but if I did, what else was I supposed to do with myself? At least this gives me purpose and direction.”
“Does it feel like what you should be doing though?” Caliban asked.
“Most of the time,” I said. “I don’t feel wrong for doing this. Though, I’m not sure you can feel wrong for helping.”
Caliban shrugged. “I don’t know. I would just run. Then again, I’ve always run from destiny. So, no one should be surprised by this.”
Is that what this was supposed to be? Some sort of destiny? The idea felt like a heavy brick of discontent in my stomach and I found I didn’t want to think on that too hard.
“What exactly is your destiny?” I asked him.
“Unclear,” he laughed. “Or maybe I wasn’t listening. Something about holding memories and finding my soul.”
“Finding your soul?”
“Doesn’t make any sense, huh? Yeah. I know.” He looked up at the night sky, his face a bit calmer now. Whatever had shaken through him moments ago had seemed to pass. “Apparently I only have a part of a soul. The other part is floating around out there somewhere.”
“You mean like a soulmate situation?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure if I believe in all that. Love, that is. Or the splitting of souls. Or destiny. I’m not sure I believe in a lot of the things I’ve been told I need to believe in.”
“So are you running from your past or what they tell you your future is?”
“Yes,” he grinned. Relaxing a bit more, he laid fully back on the roof, crossing one ankle over a knee and staring up at the sky. “It is a nice thought though.”
“What is?”
“Love.”
I paused. “So you’ve never been in it?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Was too busy at the time to want it, and now I’m too busy to find it. I think there are just some people out there that aren’t made for love. I am probably one of them.”
I doubted that. Caliban seemed like the kind of guy that was easy to love. Though perhaps one that didn’t stick around long enough for it to become anything more than basic desire. “You seem close to your friend Reese.”
He laughed loudly at that, his voice echoing across the empty rooftop. “That is not love. That is pleasure. Pure and true. I am ‘close’ to a lot of people in that way. I like sex and I like a good time. But probably am not someone that will wake up next to anyone in the morning. Not really someone that’s invited to ever stay the night either.”
Rolling to his side, he looked at me. For a moment, I was worried something had been misinterpreted, and I was one of those people he was referring to. But his face was open in conversation only and his hands were tucked against his chest in an effort to keep warm.
“Here’s the thing,” he began. “You want to hear my theory on love?”
“I think you’re going to tell me no matter what.”
“It’s true. It’s true.” The starlight hit him in just such a way, his form shimmering, as if he weren’t really there. “My theory on love is this. Take it. If you feel it, then lose yourself in it. Experience what it has to offer and let yourself revel in the aftermath. Because the thing is, life is nasty and can take good things from you quick. So, if you have that feeling, call it love, lust, genuine like, why not let yourself fall into it while it's there.”
Tightening the blanket around me, I felt my body shiver. “And what happens if that feeling leaves?”
He shrugged. “Then you move on to the next.” It felt cold-hearted to say or even think. Yet, uncomplicated in a way. But as I looked at this man who had just confessed so much in so little time, I knew I didn’t want to be like him. I didn’t want to lock myself off from possibilities because of fear.
“You had me for some of it,” I told him. “But you just lost me with that last part.”
“Why?” he asked curiously.
[[Because people are human and make mistakes]]
[[Because what you described isn’t love. It’s infatuation]]
[[Because you don’t just leave when love gets hard]]Besides the obvious moral reasons, why was I doing this? I had been here far less time than the people I surrounded myself with and yet the responsibility was crushingly put on my shoulders. I hadn’t once refused. I hadn’t walked away. It occurred to me now that I could. Disappear somewhere in this district. Perhaps even run away with this blue-eyed man. I could refuse to go back to the apothecary and let this world crumble. Or at the very least, let the responsibility of this all fall on someone else's shoulders.
But I wouldn’t. I knew I wouldn’t.
“I don’t want to see people die,” I finally said. “I don’t know if it really should be my responsibility, but I just can’t imagine sitting back, knowing how much will be lost if this world falls. There isn’t another place for people to go out there. The Gatekeeper isn’t around to open doors to potential safe havens. It just feels negligent not to help.”
Caliban shrugged. “I don’t know. I would just run. Then again, I’ve always run from destiny. So, no one should be surprised by this.”
Is that what this was supposed to be? Some sort of destiny? The idea felt like a heavy brick of discontent in my stomach and I found I didn’t want to think on that too hard.
“What exactly is your destiny?” I asked him.
“Unclear,” he laughed. “Or maybe I wasn’t listening. Something about holding memories and finding my soul.”
“Finding your soul?”
“Doesn’t make any sense, huh? Yeah. I know.” He looked up at the night sky, his face a bit calmer now. Whatever had shaken through him moments ago had seemed to pass. “Apparently I only have a part of a soul. The other part is floating around out there somewhere.”
“You mean like a soulmate situation?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure if I believe in all that. Love, that is. Or the splitting of souls. Or destiny. I’m not sure I believe in a lot of the things I’ve been told I need to believe in.”
“So are you running from your past or what they tell you your future is?”
“Yes,” he grinned. Relaxing a bit more, he laid fully back on the roof, crossing one ankle over a knee and staring up at the sky. “It is a nice thought though.”
“What is?”
“Love.”
I paused. “So you’ve never been in it?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Was too busy at the time to want it, and now I’m too busy to find it. I think there are just some people out there that aren’t made for love. I am probably one of them.”
I doubted that. Caliban seemed like the kind of guy that was easy to love. Though perhaps one that didn’t stick around long enough for it to become anything more than basic desire. “You seem close to your friend Reese.”
He laughed loudly at that, his voice echoing across the empty rooftop. “That is not love. That is pleasure. Pure and true. I am ‘close’ to a lot of people in that way. I like sex and I like a good time. But probably am not someone that will wake up next to anyone in the morning. Not really someone that’s invited to ever stay the night either.”
Rolling to his side, he looked at me. For a moment, I was worried something had been misinterpreted, and I was one of those people he was referring to. But his face was open in conversation only and his hands were tucked against his chest in an effort to keep warm.
“Here’s the thing,” he began. “You want to hear my theory on love?”
“I think you’re going to tell me no matter what.”
“It’s true. It’s true.” The starlight hit him in just such a way, his form shimmering, as if he weren’t really there. “My theory on love is this. Take it. If you feel it, then lose yourself in it. Experience what it has to offer and let yourself revel in the aftermath. Because the thing is, life is nasty and can take good things from you quick. So, if you have that feeling, call it love, lust, genuine like, why not let yourself fall into it while it's there.”
Tightening the blanket around me, I felt my body shiver. “And what happens if that feeling leaves?”
He shrugged. “Then you move on to the next.” It felt cold-hearted to say or even think. Yet, uncomplicated in a way. But as I looked at this man who had just confessed so much in so little time, I knew I didn’t want to be like him. I didn’t want to lock myself off from possibilities because of fear.
“You had me for some of it,” I told him. “But you just lost me with that last part.”
“Why?” he asked curiously.
[[Because people are human and make mistakes]]
[[Because what you described isn’t love. It’s infatuation]]
[[Because you don’t just leave when love gets hard]]Besides the obvious moral reasons, why was I doing this. I had been here far less time than the people I surrounded myself with and yet the responsibility was crushingly put on my shoulders. I hadn’t once refused. I hadn’t walked away. It occurred to me now that I could. Disappear somewhere in this district. Perhaps even run away with this blue-eyed man. I could refuse to go back to the apothecary and let this world crumble. Or at the very least, let the responsibility of this all fall on someone else's shoulders.
But I wouldn’t. I knew I wouldn’t.
“I have a lot of questions about me. About why I’m here and why I can’t remember anything. I’m hoping that this will kind of help me find answers. And, along the way, if we can save the world, why wouldn’t I do it?”
Caliban shrugged. “I don’t know. I would just run. Then again, I’ve always run from destiny. So, no one should be surprised by this.”
Is that what this was supposed to be? Some sort of destiny? The idea felt like a heavy brick of discontent in my stomach and I found I didn’t want to think on that too hard.
“What exactly is your destiny?” I asked him.
“Unclear,” he laughed. “Or maybe I wasn’t listening. Something about holding memories and finding my soul.”
“Finding your soul?”
“Doesn’t make any sense, huh? Yeah. I know.” He looked up at the night sky, his face a bit calmer now. Whatever had shaken through him moments ago had seemed to pass. “Apparently I only have a part of a soul. The other part is floating around out there somewhere.”
“You mean like a soulmate situation?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure if I believe in all that. Love, that is. Or the splitting of souls. Or destiny. I’m not sure I believe in a lot of the things I’ve been told I need to believe in.”
“So are you running from your past or what they tell you your future is?”
“Yes,” he grinned. Relaxing a bit more, he laid fully back on the roof, crossing one ankle over a knee and staring up at the sky. “It is a nice thought though.”
“What is?”
“Love.”
I paused. “So you’ve never been in it?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Was too busy at the time to want it, and now I’m too busy to find it. I think there are just some people out there that aren’t made for love. I am probably one of them.”
I doubted that. Caliban seemed like the kind of guy that was easy to love. Though perhaps one that didn’t stick around long enough for it to become anything more than basic desire. “You seem close to your friend Reese.”
He laughed loudly at that, his voice echoing across the empty rooftop. “That is not love. That is pleasure. Pure and true. I am ‘close’ to a lot of people in that way. I like sex and I like a good time. But probably am not someone that will wake up next to anyone in the morning. Not really someone that’s invited to ever stay the night either.”
Rolling to his side, he looked at me. For a moment, I was worried something had been misinterpreted, and I was one of those people he was referring to. But his face was open in conversation only and his hands were tucked against his chest in an effort to keep warm.
“Here’s the thing,” he began. “You want to hear my theory on love?”
“I think you’re going to tell me no matter what.”
“It’s true. It’s true.” The starlight hit him in just such a way, his form shimmering, as if he weren’t really there. “My theory on love is this. Take it. If you feel it, then lose yourself in it. Experience what it has to offer and let yourself revel in the aftermath. Because the thing is, life is nasty and can take good things from you quick. So, if you have that feeling, call it love, lust, genuine like, why not let yourself fall into it while it's there.”
Tightening the blanket around me, I felt my body shiver. “And what happens if that feeling leaves?”
He shrugged. “Then you move on to the next.” It felt cold-hearted to say or even think. Yet, uncomplicated in a way. But as I looked at this man who had just confessed so much in so little time, I knew I didn’t want to be like him. I didn’t want to lock myself off from possibilities because of fear.
“You had me for some of it,” I told him. “But you just lost me with that last part.”
“Why?” he asked curiously.
[[Because people are human and make mistakes]]
[[Because what you described isn’t love. It’s infatuation]]
[[Because you don’t just leave when love gets hard]]
My experience with love was minimal. I could feel the capacity to have it and I could feel the knowledge that I had felt it, in some shape or form before. But despite the shakiness that surrounded it, I knew I disagreed with Caliban’s love them and leave them attitude, without a doubt.
“Because people are human. Or human like,” I frowned, thinking of all the non-human individuals I had met so far. “What I mean is, people make mistakes. It’s natural and there is nothing wrong with that. To leave someone, or to punish them for something that is normal for everyone to do, isn’t okay.”
“But if that mistake hurts you,” he said, “why would you continue to give them a second chance?”
I looked at him, my eyes sad. There was genuine confusion in his words and I wondered what all had happened to this man to make him believe that he was undeserving of forgiveness. “Because one day, you yourself will make a mistake, and you’ll deserve forgiveness too.”
He turned away at that, avoiding my eyes as he cleared his throat, shuffling his booted feet across the roof.
“So is this all coming from some philosophical standpoint or do you actually have someone you love out there?”
[[I’m not interested in anyone (locks platonic relationships for game)]]
[[I have someone I’m interested in]]My experience with love was minimal. I could feel the capacity to have it and I could feel the knowledge that I had felt it, in some shape or form before. But despite the shakiness that surrounded it, I knew why I disagreed with Caliban’s love them and leave them attitude, without a doubt.
“What you’ve described isn’t love, Caliban. It is infatuation. You have to stick around for a bit to feel love, and it doesn’t always feel great, but it feels a lot better than the emptiness of going home alone at night.”
Caliban narrowed his eyes, looking at me skeptically. “I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of staying when something doesn’t feel good. And the few times I thought to stay I got pushed away anyway.”
And there it was. He wanted to avoid pain. Push them away. Don’t form too solid of a connection. Don’t allow yourself to get hurt. The desire to reach out and hug the man and tell him he was wrong was nearly overwhelming.
“What about you? This all coming from a philosophical standpoint or do you actually have someone out there you’re interested in?”
[[I’m not interested in anyone (locks platonic relationships for game)]]
[[I have someone I’m interested in]]My experience with love was minimal. I could feel the capacity to have it and I could feel the knowledge that I had felt it, in some shape or form before. But despite the shakiness that surrounded it, I knew I disagreed with Caliban’s love them and leave them attitude, without a doubt.
“You don’t just leave because love gets hard. You don’t just leave any type of relationship because it gets hard.”
Caliban looked genuinely confused by this. “Why would you stay when something doesn’t feel good?”
“Not everything in life is going to feel good,” I told him. “Life is messy. You said it yourself.”
Caliban narrowed his eyes, looking at me skeptically. “I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of staying when something doesn’t feel good. And the few times I thought to stay I got pushed away anyway.”
And there it was. He wanted to avoid pain. Push them away. Don’t form too solid of a connection. Don’t allow yourself to get hurt. The desire to reach out and hug the man and tell him he was wrong was nearly overwhelming.
“What about you? This all coming from a philosophical standpoint or do you actually have someone out there you’re interested in?”
[[I’m not interested in anyone (locks platonic relationships for game)]]
[[I have someone I’m interested in]]“I’m not interested in anyone,” I told him truthfully. While the friendships I was making here within the Night Market were profound, I didn’t think I had feelings for any of them. None of them were more important than the other and I couldn’t imagine treating them as such. Not with what we had to do.
“More like me then, huh?”
I snorted in laughter, giving Caliban a side long look. “I doubt that. I think you are one of a kind, Caliban.” That seemed to please him, erasing the last of the fear that I had seen consume him in these last few moments.
Standing, Caliban dusted off his pants before holding a hand out to me. “Come on. Not trying to kick you out or anything but like you said, you’ve got people who are worried about you. I suspect that road should be cleared by now. Velvet Guard prides themselves in doing their job. Would be laughable if they were still blocking the road.”
We walked in contemplative silence. Back down the lift that felt as if it would fall at any moment. Back through Renaissance Alley and past the crackling fire pits and hawked wares. Past the alleyway I had emerged from and towards a small narrow pathway where I could see the shimmering gateway embedded into the wall with two guards standing post at. Caliban ducked his head low as we walked past them, his steps quickening. When we emerged near the fashion district not long after, I knew my way home finally. It turned out I was far from where I was familiar with and probably wouldn’t have found a way home without my old cellmate.
“You got it from here?” Caliban asked.
I nodded to him. The time after the Deep was one that was sorely needed but it was time to let everyone know I was now okay. But for some reason, leaving Caliban again, felt far more significant than it should. Chalk it up to the day I had or perhaps to what we had shared. Leaving felt monumental though, and I wanted to capture an image of this strange man before I set him free. “Am I going to see you again?”
“Will the sun cease to shine? The moon cast its eternal glow to the depths of Helheim?”
I blinked at him. “It’s the Night Market. I don’t know.”
He laughed. It was what I needed. I would forever remember that laugh, tucking it away as something precious. Caliban felt like a force of life that was gone just as quickly as he came each time.
“Good luck on that love and destiny thing, $eyecolor eyes. You ever need a trinket or two, you know where to find me.”
Whistling, he disappeared back in the alley way, a black feather slipping from beneath his feet.
[[Next|Chapter Eight - Belladonna/platonic]]
<<set $platonic to "true">>“I have someone in mind,” I told him. <<if $miloro == "true">>I thought of messy honeyed hair and a grin that made my heart stop. <<elseif $hazelro == "true">> I thought of the sweetest smile and kindest eyes and a blush that caught my breath every time.<</if>>
He grinned at me, much more interested in this side of the conversation rather than the one that focused on him.
“And is this interested party interested in you?”
I gave him a withering look. “The world is ending, Caliban. I think we all have a bit more on our mind.”
“But see,” he said excitedly. “That’s exactly my point. The world could end tomorrow. Why would you not take the opportunity today to tell them how you feel? To be with them. To take every last breath that you have left in their arms?”
I said nothing for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts on the matter. There had to be reasons worth fighting for. Saving the world was a crushing load to bear and there needed to be something in all of that, something more personal, that gave me strength to fight.
“Way I see it,” Caliban said, after my silence. “What’s the point in saving the world if you’re not going to live in it?”
My $eyecolor eyes snapped to his blue ones. Every ounce of joviality was gone from his face, his eyes darkening to near black as his head tipped to the side. The rustle of wind scattered old papers that had been left up here, a tin can, and a few plucked black feathers.
He was right. I knew he was right.
Standing, Caliban dusted off his pants before holding a hand out to me. “Come on. Looks like you have somewhere you want to be, and I suspect that road should be cleared by now. Velvet Guard prides themselves in doing their job. Would be laughable if they were still blocking the road.”
We walked in contemplative silence. Back down the lift that felt as if it would fall at any moment. Back through Renaissance Alley and past the crackling fire pits and hawked wares. Past the alleyway I had emerged from and towards a small narrow pathway where I could see the shimmering gateway embedded into the wall with two guards standing post at. Caliban ducked his head low as we walked past them, his steps quickening. When we emerged near the fashion district not long after, I knew my way home finally. It turned out I was far from where I was familiar with and probably wouldn’t have found a way home without my old cellmate.
“You got it from here?” Caliban asked.
I nodded to him. The time after the Deep was one that was sorely needed but it was time to let everyone know I was now okay. But for some reason, leaving Caliban again, felt far more significant than it should. Chalk it up to the day I had or perhaps to what we had shared. Leaving felt monumental though, and I wanted to capture an image of this strange man before I set him free. “Am I going to see you again?”
“Will the sun cease to shine? The moon cast its eternal glow to the depths of Helheim?”
I blinked at him. “It’s the Night Market. I don’t know.”
He laughed. It was what I needed. I would forever remember that laugh, tucking it away as something precious. Caliban felt like a force of life that was gone just as quickly as he came each time.
“Good luck on that love and destiny thing, $eyecolor eyes. You ever need a trinket or two, you know where to find me.”
Whistling, he disappeared back in the alley way, a black feather slipping from beneath his feet.
[[I thought about Belladonna]]
[[I thought about Gabriel (lock relationship)]]
[[I thought about Hazel]]
<<if $asexual == "false">>[[I thought about Milo (lock relationship)]] <<elseif $asexual == "true">> [[I thought about Milo (lock route)|Milo asexual route]]<</if>>I took the familiar paths back towards Hazel’s, the alleys far more silent than they had been the last time I was out. The remnants of the Lantern Festival could still be seen in the furthest corners but the jovial laughter and drunk revelry that had filled the streets was all but gone now.
As I came to the three-tiered fountain, I thought about Belladonna. How many times had she insinuated that I was not to fall in love with her? How many times had she flat out told me that this would never be the case? Yet, the anomaly that I continued to cling to, was the rhetoric that had been told time and time again. Belladonna Malady spent no time with people who were not paying clients. Yet, I seemed to be the exception, much to many the ire of past lovers of her own.
Maybe Caliban was right. Maybe living in the moment was the better way to go. Belladonna was an intimidating figure all in her own and the last thing I had been able to do was be firm with her in any way. To tell her the truth of my feelings was almost a horrifying thought. I had feelings for her and yet didn’t wish to tell her anything due to her insistent warnings. But where was that getting me?
With a deep breath, I began to make my way towards the Pleasure District. The burnt sugar smell singed my nose as I got closer, and I let the ambrosia pass over me for a moment before it slipped away. Now that I knew what it was it felt more like the wind. Something that brushed against me and was soon gone.
[[Next|Chapter Seven Belladonna]]
<<set $belladonnaro to "true">>
<<set $relationship to "true">>My hands hanging loosely at my side, I looked at her. I tried to relay that this wasn’t something I was doing to hurt her or upset her. That was in fact the last thing on my mind. But I needed her to know that what I was saying was true, and not said lightly.
“It’s how I feel,” I told her. “And I don’t want to hide how I feel any longer.”
Sinking down on the stone bench, Belladonna looked out upon the garden. The hydrangeas were blooming in and out, breathing with the life of the Night Market. The woman herself, however, looked lost. “You did not have to say it,” she said, her voice soft and even.
When she tilted her face upwards, the pastel light of the blush colored lanterns beyond shone against her pale features. She looked younger here for some reason. Like she was trying at least to let me down easy.
“Dear heart, come and sit with me,” she requested.
Slowly, I made my way towards her, sitting next to her on the white stone bench. She smelled of night jasmine and something softer. Mustier. Grave dirt and tobacco.
“Have I ever told you how I came to the Night Market?” she asked. It wasn’t what I had expected her to say, and so I shook my head, keeping quiet. “I was seventeen. My father was a priest. He believed in the Lord with every fiber of his own being. I watched him from the time I was old enough to walk to the church myself. Every Sunday he would preach to a congregation. He would sit by the beds of the sick and dying. He would hold the hands of those who were left behind. We never really had much growing up because my father gave away anything he could spare. He was a pillar of our community.”
Leaning back on the bench, she cast her gaze forward into memory, her eyes becoming unfocused and her hands loose in her lap.
“When our world started dying, I watched him preach to his parishioners that God would save us. That He would find a way. And if He did not, then it was by His will that we were to join Him in the almighty kingdom beyond. For months, we prayed. As a family, as a community. I fasted for a full week and dedicated myself to kneeling at the altar and asking God for guidance. To please save us from what was to come. But nothing happened. And so we accepted our fate.”
I swallowed at the thought of it. A young Belladonna. A child, really. Accepting that she was to die.
“Then, on the day the sky turned red, there was a door. It opened right outside the church and I remember running to it, knowing, just knowing there was something on the other side. Salvation. When I went to tell my father he said no, however. That that was the devil’s work. Not the Lords. He refused to let me tell anyone what I had seen and for days he dispelled any rumor that this was an answer to our prayers.
“On the final day, as the sky began to crack open, I begged him to let people open the door. We had children within our home. We had the elderly, able-bodied. Everyone. We could have walked through together. God had answered our prayers. But, my father said no. He said he would rather die a godly man than one that fell to deceit during the final hour.” She laughed, though the sound pained her. “So, I ran. I burst through the front door and I ran towards the gate and behind me, I could smell the fires starting to burn and the villagers starting to scream. But I didn’t look back. I walked into the Night Market knowing everyone I had ever known and loved, was dead behind me.”
The weight of her words hung heavy and thick between us. They coated the night air in a truth that was rarely thought upon anymore as the harsh reality of how most came to be in the market itself, made itself known.
“$name,” Belladonna said softly. Never before had she called me by my name. Not once. “I am unsurprised by your declaration, but I am afraid it changes nothing. I lost my heart that day. I do not have it to give to anyone else. So,” she rose from her seat. “If you wish to pay me, I would be happy to pretend that I am your doting love. But otherwise, I advise for you to go home, dear heart. Go back to Hazel’s and curl up in your bed. Another love will be along. One who can give you their whole heart.”
Walking back into her office, she left me within the garden, alone.
[[Next|Chapter Seven B end]]
My hands hanging loosely at my side, I looked at her. I tried to relay that this wasn’t something I was doing to hurt her or upset her. That was in fact the last thing on my mind. But I needed her to know that what I was saying was true, and not said lightly.
“I thought I was going to die today,” I said bluntly. I could still feel the shiver of water down my spine and was suddenly so much more grateful for the warm lantern light of the market itself. “It put some things into perspective. About what I want. About how I want to live my life during this mess. I didn’t see the point in hiding it any longer.”
Sinking down on the stone bench, Belladonna looked out upon the garden. The hydrangeas were blooming in and out, breathing with the life of the Night Market. The woman herself, however, looked lost. “You did not have to say it,” she said, her voice soft and even.
When she tilted her face upwards, the pastel light of the blush colored lanterns beyond shone against her pale features. She looked younger here for some reason. Like she was trying at least to let me down easy.
“Dear heart, come and sit with me,” she requested.
Slowly, I made my way towards her, sitting next to her on the white stone bench. She smelled of night jasmine and something softer. Mustier. Grave dirt and tobacco.
“Have I ever told you how I came to the Night Market?” she asked. It wasn’t what I had expected her to say, and so I shook my head, keeping quiet. “I was seventeen. My father was a priest. He believed in the Lord with every fiber of his own being. I watched him from the time I was old enough to walk to the church myself. Every Sunday he would preach to a congregation. He would sit by the beds of the sick and dying. He would hold the hands of those who were left behind. We never really had much growing up because my father gave away anything he could spare. He was a pillar of our community.”
Leaning back on the bench, she cast her gaze forward into memory, her eyes becoming unfocused and her hands loose in her lap.
“When our world started dying, I watched him preach to his parishioners that God would save us. That He would find a way. And if He did not, then it was by His will that we were to join Him in the almighty kingdom beyond. For months, we prayed. As a family, as a community. I fasted for a full week and dedicated myself to kneeling at the altar and asking God for guidance. To please save us from what was to come. But nothing happened. And so we accepted our fate.”
I swallowed at the thought of it. A young Belladonna. A child, really. Accepting that she was to die.
“Then, on the day the sky turned red, there was a door. It opened right outside the church and I remember running to it, knowing, just knowing there was something on the other side. Salvation. When I went to tell my father he said no, however. That that was the devil’s work. Not the Lords. He refused to let me tell anyone what I had seen and for days he dispelled any rumor that this was an answer to our prayers.
“On the final day, as the sky began to crack open, I begged him to let people open the door. We had children within our home. We had the elderly, able-bodied. Everyone. We could have walked through together. God had answered our prayers. But, my father said no. He said he would rather die a godly man than one that fell to deceit during the final hour.” She laughed, though the sound pained her. “So, I ran. I burst through the front door and I ran towards the gate and behind me, I could smell the fires starting to burn and the villagers starting to scream. But I didn’t look back. I walked into the Night Market knowing everyone I had ever known and loved, was dead behind me.”
The weight of her words hung heavy and thick between us. They coated the night air in a truth that was rarely thought upon anymore as the harsh reality of how most came to be in the market itself, made itself known.
“$name,” Belladonna said softly. Never before had she called me by my name. Not once. “I am unsurprised by your declaration, but I am afraid it changes nothing. I lost my heart that day. I do not have it to give to anyone else. So,” she rose from her seat. “If you wish to pay me, I would be happy to pretend that I am your doting love. But otherwise, I advise for you to go home, dear heart. Go back to Hazel’s and curl up in your bed. Another love will be along. One who can give you their whole heart.”
Walking back into her office, she left me within the garden, alone.
[[Next|Chapter Seven B end]]
My hands hanging loosely at my side, I looked at her. I tried to relay that this wasn’t something I was doing to hurt her or upset her. That was in fact the last thing on my mind. But I needed her to know that what I was saying was true, and not said lightly.
“You are a woman who, above all else, respects honesty,” I told her. It was one of the things I admired about her the most. The way she could lie so very easily and yet did not. “And I haven’t been being honest with you.”
Sinking down on the stone bench, Belladonna looked out upon the garden. The hydrangeas were blooming in and out, breathing with the life of the Night Market. The woman herself, however, looked lost. “You did not have to say it,” she said, her voice soft and even.
When she tilted her face upwards, the pastel light of the blush colored lanterns beyond shone against her pale features. She looked younger here for some reason. Like she was trying at least to let me down easy.
“Dear heart, come and sit with me,” she requested.
Slowly, I made my way towards her, sitting next to her on the white stone bench. She smelled of night jasmine and something softer. Mustier. Grave dirt and tobacco.
“Have I ever told you how I came to the Night Market?” she asked. It wasn’t what I had expected her to say, and so I shook my head, keeping quiet. “I was seventeen. My father was a priest. He believed in the Lord with every fiber of his own being. I watched him from the time I was old enough to walk to the church myself. Every Sunday he would preach to a congregation. He would sit by the beds of the sick and dying. He would hold the hands of those who were left behind. We never really had much growing up because my father gave away anything he could spare. He was a pillar of our community.”
Leaning back on the bench, she cast her gaze forward into memory, her eyes becoming unfocused and her hands loose in her lap.
“When our world started dying, I watched him preach to his parishioners that God would save us. That He would find a way. And if He did not, then it was by His will that we were to join Him in the almighty kingdom beyond. For months, we prayed. As a family, as a community. I fasted for a full week and dedicated myself to kneeling at the altar and asking God for guidance. To please save us from what was to come. But nothing happened. And so we accepted our fate.”
I swallowed at the thought of it. A young Belladonna. A child, really. Accepting that she was to die.
“Then, on the day the sky turned red, there was a door. It opened right outside the church and I remember running to it, knowing, just knowing there was something on the other side. Salvation. When I went to tell my father he said no, however. That that was the devil’s work. Not the Lords. He refused to let me tell anyone what I had seen and for days he dispelled any rumor that this was an answer to our prayers.
“On the final day, as the sky began to crack open, I begged him to let people open the door. We had children within our home. We had the elderly, able-bodied. Everyone. We could have walked through together. God had answered our prayers. But, my father said no. He said he would rather die a godly man than one that fell to deceit during the final hour.” She laughed, though the sound pained her. “So, I ran. I burst through the front door and I ran towards the gate and behind me, I could smell the fires starting to burn and the villagers starting to scream. But I didn’t look back. I walked into the Night Market knowing everyone I had ever known and loved, was dead behind me.”
The weight of her words hung heavy and thick between us. They coated the night air in a truth that was rarely thought upon anymore as the harsh reality of how most came to be in the market itself, made itself known.
“$name,” Belladonna said softly. Never before had she called me by my name. Not once. “I am unsurprised by your declaration, but I am afraid it changes nothing. I lost my heart that day. I do not have it to give to anyone else. So,” she rose from her seat. “If you wish to pay me, I would be happy to pretend that I am your doting love. But otherwise, I advise for you to go home, dear heart. Go back to Hazel’s and curl up in your bed. Another love will be along. One who can give you their whole heart.”
Walking back into her office, she left me within the garden, alone.
[[Next|Chapter Seven B end]]
I bypassed Hazel when I got to the apothecary. After telling her I was alive and well, I went up to my room with the promise that I would explain everything over breakfast. The weariness must have shown on my face because she did not fight me. In the end, I think she too needed to have some time.
As I changed for bed, I thought about what Belladonna had said and the history she had shared with me. My heart ached at the thought of it. Of everything she had left behind. At the reverence in her voice when speaking of her father. It was clear she had been a small girl who had loved and admired him and had gotten her feelings shattered far too young. I felt sorrow pulse in my chest over it and the tears bud in my own eyes. Not for the clear dismissal she had given me, but for what she had gone through as well.
As I slipped beneath the blankets, I looked out my window, wondering how I would have felt if I had been in her place. Perhaps it had been a blessing that I didn’t know where I came from. While I longed to have a sense of belonging in this world and this life, the tragedy that surrounded the ones who remembered felt unbearable to carry.
Rolling to my side, I vowed to try and sleep. But something caught my eye.
There, upon my dresser, was a porcelain vase. One that had not been there before. Within it, the deep white of a rose was perched, the veins crimson cracks running through each petal. My heart stuttered and I didn’t dare breathe. It had not been on my night stand when I had first entered.
Worried that it would disappear if I dared to move, I stayed still for the rest of the night. I watched that rose, wondering what it meant and pouring every ounce of hope I could towards it, as if it could reach out to her.
When my eyes finally slid shut that evening, it was with a sigh. Desperately, I hoped the rose would be there come morning.
[[Next|Chapter Eight - Belladonna/platonic]]I thought about Gabriel as I stood by the three-tiered fountain. Maybe Caliban was right. Life couldn’t stop just because it had the possibility of actually ending. I was growing to enjoy the Warden’s company. It was an odd thing to see and even odder to feel but after spending some time with him, I was realizing I didn’t necessarily hate doing so. <<if $pits == "true">> There was a part of me that revolted at the notion. It felt like a fault of my own, somehow, to begin to enjoy the company of my captor. But, since our initial meeting, he had kept his distance. I noticed how he stood a ways apart from me. Let me lead the conversations. And he actually listened. That night, the Warden was enacting his duty to the market. One, I did not agree with. But, if I separated Gabriel Caine from the responsibilities of the Warden, I was not entirely upset with what I saw.<</if>>
The other night had been the first moment where I had thought that maybe he could become something more to me. But then everything had happened with the appearance of the Harbor Master's ring and Hazel and I’s journey into the Deep. There hadn’t been time to address it again.
Looking down the burnt out alley I knew I should be heading home. But instead, my feet turned towards the station. I found myself wandering across the long limestone bridge, closing my eyes and ignoring what I knew lay down below on the beach. One day I would have to confront that place. But just not now. I walked to the front door and stepped inside. Briefly, I thought about how I should have brought food. Gabriel probably hadn’t eaten today. Gabriel wouldn’t eat for a week if someone didn’t make him.
He was standing at the front desk talking to the guard stationed there. When I came in his eyes widened a little, and he took one hasty step forward before abruptly stopping.
“$name.” The surprise coloring his voice was new and sent a bolt down my spine.
“Hey,” I said. “I made it out.”
“I can see that.” Turning back to the guard, he tapped the man's desk once. “Call off the search of the Deep, Tyrin.”
Tyrin blinked at Gabriel. “Call off the seventy-two men and women you just demanded to get out of bed to storm the very place we are not allowed to go?”
Gabriel’s eyes sharpened.
“Yes sir,” Tyrin hastily agreed. “Of course.”
With a nod, Gabriel held out his arm, gesturing for me to step in front of him and head down the hall towards his office. I could hear Tyrin mumbling under his breath, but I doubted the man would dare speak anything more.
Upon entering Gabriel’s office, I noticed the addition of a new chair. Something a bit more comfortable than the metal monstrosity I had been sitting on before. When he closed the door behind me, I sunk into the blue wing back, feeling the cushion give and my spine relax.
“Are you alright?” Gabriel asked immediately. “When I saw that Ms. Albright returned, and you had not, I grew concerned.”
“You did?”
He looked at me confused. “Of course I did. I know what the Deep contains and when the coral ran out I feared the worst had happened to you down there.”
“So you were going to storm the Deep?”
He looked a little perturbed at the phrasing, much like he had at Tyrin. “I was going to go down there and demand that Baron Kamille let us search for you, yes. You are an important part of what we are doing here, $name. I was not just going to let you suffer at the hands of things far beyond your capability.”
[[Then why did you let me go down there in the first place?]]
[[Is that all I am? An asset?]]
[[I wouldn’t want you going down there]]
[[Thank you for not intending to leave me there]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[Got to not let that bail go to waste, right?]]<</if>>
<<set $gabrielro to "true">>
<<set $relationship to "true">>I took the familiar paths back towards Hazel’s, the alleys far more silent than they had been the last time I was out. The remnants of the Lantern Festival could still be seen in the furthest corners but the jovial laughter and drunk revelry that had filled the streets was all but gone now.
I thought about Hazel as I made my way back towards the apothecary. About what we discovered down there. Malcolm was alive and stuck like she had suspected all along. The dead were trapped. Doors that should have been open for rebirth were entirely gone and the ever churning well of life had nowhere to go.
I looked around the burnt out alley and wondered how many of these spirits were trapped because of this. Or was their situation entirely different? Everyone seemed to have a different answer to the mysteries surrounding the dead but no one seemed all that intent to do anything about it. No one in the Night Market seemed intent to do much of anything really. It was a strange thing I was noticing. The people within the market loved their lives, and they lived them large. But when the time came for them to stand up for their home, where were they? The Barons hid somewhere else, high above others, either too afraid their appearance would get them killed, or too disinterested to do anything about what actually mattered. The Velvet Guard had morals they stood behind for no other reason than they were told to do so. And the people of the market were coming and going at such a rapid rate that the world was tearing like a well-used piece of cloth.
Entering through the garden gates, I sighed. My head hurt, and my body ached, and I just wanted to get back into the warmth of the apothecary. To check on Hazel and make sure she was okay. To put this day behind me.
When I opened the door I had a bundle of patchwork in my arms as Hazel flung herself at me, her arms locking around my neck tightly as she stood on tip toe to further reach me. I wrapped my own arms around her as well, sighing at the weight of her body against my own.
“You’re alive,” she breathed. Tears laced her voice. “I tried to stay down there as long as I could, but Anemone sent me back up, and I didn’t see you here, so I started thinking the worst and– Oh $name, I was so worried.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I’m okay.”
Pulling away from me, she took a deep breath. Her eyes still traced me for signs of injury. What I was sure she saw was a salt encrusted, ruined pair of clothes and shoes that look permanently soggy despite actually being dry. <<if $deepwounds == "true">> On top of that, she also had probably tracked every wound. Even the ones that Baron Kamille had healed.<</if>>
“Go change,” Hazel said softly. “I’ll get some food on.” Determination crossed her face. It was the no nonsense Hazel look that I was coming to love. The one that said if I dared question her, she would put her hands on her hips, stick out her lip, and lay into me in that very Hazel like way that was more cute than threatening. I almost argued with her just to see it again. But I was too tired and food sounded far too good.
We made our way up to the common area together and after changing, I went into the small kitchenette off to the side. Hazel stood at the stove, adding a few of her dried herbs to a pot. Behind her, I watched a block of cheese slice itself, the pieces assembling onto a fresh loaf of bread.
“It’s not much,” she called over her shoulder. “Just a bit of leftover stew and cheese sandwiches. But I want to get something in you. You look a fright.”
[[Come up behind her and rest your head on her shoulder]]
[[You really don’t have to fix food. The cheese sandwiches are fine]]
[[How did you make it out?]]
<<set $hazelro to "true">>
<<set $relationship to "true">>I took the familiar paths back towards Hazel’s, the alleys far more silent than they had been the last time I was out. The remnants of the Lantern Festival could still be seen in the furthest corners but the jovial laughter and drunk revelry that had filled the streets was all but gone now.
I thought about Milo as I came to the three-tiered fountain. I thought about what he had said before I had left for the Deep. The pain in his eyes over Hazel and I going down there on a mission he thought foolish. I knew it was more than that. I had known it was more than that from the moment it happened. The Deep was going to represent to him all the things I had a suspicion he had yet to face. He didn’t want the answers that Hazel did, because if they turned out to be true, then he would take that as a personal failure. And now, the closer we got to unveiling certain mysteries of their past, the more distant he was going to become.
Thinking back on it, how many times had he done it before? This man who was quick to love and laugh turned sour at the mention of the Gatekeeper. At the mention of Malcolm. At the mention of finding the Barons. And instead of unpacking the ugliness he had kept close all these years, he pretended like it wasn’t happening. Something that became a lot harder to do with me around.
Hazel had once told me he lived in an abandoned whiskey distillery on the outskirts of the Spice District. It was an alley that was easily missed but was marked by a stack of crates that had empty blue-green bottles sitting dusty just at the opening. I went in search of that now. Part of me knew I should go back to the apothecary, but I wanted to see him. Either before I lost my nerve, or before the next big thing greeted us and sent me spiraling off into the dark once more.
Knowing what I was looking for, the alleyway was not hard to find. It turned in two sharp juts down towards another pile of barrels and crates. I saw a stuffed animal sitting out on one of them. <<if $chapterfour == "ruins">> One he had gotten right before we had gone down to the ruins and talked to Basalt. <</if>> Other than that, there was only a flickering yellow light and a large rusted metal door.
Taking a deep breath, I banged on it loudly, the boom of my fist I imagined echoing throughout the market.
It took a moment before the door rolled back. Milo stood there, hair disheveled and face lined in tension. He was barefoot, wearing soft grey sweatpants and a white shirt. For whatever reason, that shocked me the most. <<if $milosex == "true">> I had seen the man naked and his face twisted in pleasure but for whatever reason, this was more intimate. <</if>>
“$name.” His voice cracked a bit at the end. The last thing I think he had been expecting was me.
“I’m going to say something, and you’re going to listen,” I told him. He looked startled at that but kept his mouth shut. “I know that this is hard for you. I know that what we are doing is not something that is easy for probably a ton of reasons I am not even aware of yet. But anyone that cares about you can see it. They can see that what we are doing is taking a toll. The way I figure it, things ended badly for you last time around. You lost the person you cared for when you messed around with the Barons. And here we are, doing it all over again.”
He said nothing, the pain in his eyes naked at my words.
“You lost Malcolm,” I said bluntly. He flinched away at the sound of his name, but didn’t run. “He died and there was nothing you could do about it. And I don’t think you once stopped to deal with that. I think you were so worried about Hazel and so intent on shoving aside your hurt that you let that sit. You were banking on never having to face your mistakes. And now that they’re here, you are pushing people away. You don’t want to know about Malcolm, so you push Hazel away and make her feel small. You don’t want to see the people you care for get hurt so you push and pull me any time a situation with the Barons comes up. But I’m not running away, Milo. I’m right here. I’m willing to do this with you. I’m willing to help you. To be here for you. To listen and not shy away from whatever is going on in your head. But you have to meet me halfway. You have to be the one to stop running.”
As my words guttered out, I stared at him, my breath coming in ragged pants. I could feel my heart slam against my chest and my stomach flounder as he continued to just stare at me, unblinking. The light from within the distillery haloed around him, softening his edges. But as the moments stretched on, and he refused to say a word, I felt the pit in my stomach begin to grow. I had tried. I had laid myself out there and let it all fall in a broken and ugly mess between us because I needed to know where we stood before moving forward. But he was giving me nothing. Nothing but empty silence.
Head dropping, I made to turn away. It was all the answer I supposed I needed, and I didn’t want to continue standing there like a fool.
When I felt him grab my arm, I shivered. There was no hesitation on his part. When he pulled me in and pressed his lips to mine I felt myself suck in a deep inhalation of breath, wrapping my arms around his neck and grabbing him just as close. His fingers curled against my back, into the torn edges of a shirt still caked with sand, as he slowly backed us into the distillery. The door slammed with a rolling clang, and Milo pushed me against it. I gasped as the cool metal was pressed against my back.
“Why are you like this?” he whispered, his voice broken and eyes shining with something he didn’t wish for me to see.
“Like what?” He was pressing his face into my neck, his body shaking. His skin felt fevered and tight, and I wondered what all had happened while I had been gone. “Like what, Milo?”
“Real,” he stuttered.
He didn’t give me a chance to question him as his lips were back on mine once more, tongue sweeping into my mouth in quiet search.
[[Stop him]]
[[Fade to black|Aftercare 2]]
<<if $sex == "M">>[[No fade to black|MNSFW Scene]] <<elseif $sex == "F">>[[No fade to black|FNSFW Scene]] <<elseif $sex == "TM">> [[No fade to black|TMNSFW Scene]] <<elseif $sex == "TF">> [[No fade to black|TFNSFW Scene]]<</if>>
<<set $miloro to "true">>
<<set $relationship to "true">>Coming up behind her, I wrapped my arms low around her waist and rested my head on her shoulder, breathing the scent of her in. Basil. She always smelled like fresh basil. It was comforting after the salty brine of the sea.
With one hand, she reached down, resting it on top of mine. “It was scary down there,” she whispered. I knew she didn’t know the half of it. She wasn’t the one that had walked into the dark and I didn’t ever want her to be. But, leaving the apothecary, trying to reach out to Malcolm and the moments that preceded it, was terrifying all in its own right.
“I’m sorry I had to leave you.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I- I didn’t even ask. Were you successful?”
<<if $mirror == "safe">>Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the small seashell.
Hazel twisted in my arms. “$name, that’s amazing. You did it. We didn’t even expect for you to get this when you went down there. We thought that it would be another meeting and… I should have known better,” she smiled. “Of course you were able to get it. I don’t know why we ever thought anything different.” <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> I shook my head, not quite able to look her in the eye. It felt like a failure. Far too big of a failure to be able to hold my head up high. I was tired, though and was desperately hoping that tomorrow would be different.
Hazel did not chastise me, however. Instead, she cupped my cheek, brushing her thumb just below my eye. “I know you did the best you could,” she whispered. “I am so proud of you, $name. You were so brave.” <<elseif $mirror == "none">>I shook my head, not quite able to look her in the eye. It felt like a failure. Far too big of a failure to be able to hold my head up high. I was tired, though and was desperately hoping that tomorrow would be different.
Hazel did not chastise me, however. Instead, she cupped my cheek, brushing her thumb just below my eye. “I know you did the best you could,” she whispered. “I am so proud of you, $name. You were so brave.” <</if>>
Placing the shell on the counter, I tipped my head towards hers, pressing my forehead against her own.
“I hate to say this, but can the food wait until morning? I don’t know if I have the energy in me to eat it.”
Hazel’s eyes grew wide as she immediately put down the wooden spoon she brandished. “Oh, of course. I didn’t even– I’m sorry. I should have thought about that. I–”
“Hazel,” I laughed. “Stop. It was a long day for both of us. You don’t have to take care of me. You should be taken care of too.”
She shifted against me, the burner of the stove turning off on its own. “Maybe… maybe we could take care of each other tonight?”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure what she was asking, until she was looking up at me through the thick of her lashes, her lips worrying between her teeth.
“You mean…?”
“If you want,” she said quickly.
[[Could we actually just curl up and fall asleep together?]]
[[Of course, I do]]Leaning on the counter, I looked at her tiredly. She looked a little worse for wear herself. Her eyes were ringed in deep circles, her skin ashen beneath her normally tan and vibrant skin, and I could see her hands shake.
“Hazel,” I started. “You really don’t have to fix me food. The cheese sandwiches are fine.” They were ready behind me, waiting for both of us to eat.
“I want to,” she said, looking down into the pot. “I have to do something.”
The tremor in her voice was pronounced, and I watched as she absently stirred the pot of stew. “I’m sorry I had to leave you down there,” I told her.
Her eyes went wide. "I didn't even ask you. Were you successful down there?"
<<if $mirror == "safe">>Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the small seashell.
Hazel twisted in my arms. “$name, that’s amazing. You did it. We didn’t even expect for you to get this when you went down there. We thought that it would be another meeting and… I should have known better,” she smiled. “Of course you were able to get it. I don’t know why we ever thought anything different.” <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> I shook my head, not quite able to look her in the eye. It felt like a failure. Far too big of a failure to be able to hold my head up high. I was tired, though and was desperately hoping that tomorrow would be different.
Hazel did not chastise me, however. Instead, she cupped my cheek, brushing her thumb just below my eye. “I know you did the best you could,” she whispered. “I am so proud of you, $name. You were so brave.” <<elseif $mirror == "none">>I shook my head, not quite able to look her in the eye. It felt like a failure. Far too big of a failure to be able to hold my head up high. I was tired, though and was desperately hoping that tomorrow would be different.
Hazel did not chastise me, however. Instead, she cupped my cheek, brushing her thumb just below my eye. “I know you did the best you could,” she whispered. “I am so proud of you, $name. You were so brave.” <</if>>
Placing the shell on the counter, I tipped my head towards hers, pressing my forehead against her own.
“I hate to say this, but can the food wait until morning? I don’t know if I have the energy in me to eat it.”
Hazel’s eyes grew wide as she immediately put down the wooden spoon she brandished. “Oh, of course. I didn’t even– I’m sorry. I should have thought about that. I–”
“Hazel,” I laughed. “Stop. It was a long day for both of us. You don’t have to take care of me. You should be taken care of too.”
She shifted against me, the burner of the stove turning off on its own. “Maybe… maybe we could take care of each other tonight?”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure what she was asking, until she was looking up at me through the thick of her lashes, her lips worrying between her teeth.
“You mean…?”
“If you want,” she said quickly.
[[Could we actually just curl up and fall asleep together?]]
[[Of course, I do]]Staring at her, I drank her in. There was a light that had left her. It was somewhere down below, back at Anemone’s. I knew that those moments had not been easy for her and as I looked at her, the way her hands shook and the way she tried to distract herself with the stew, I knew that she was far from over what we had seen.
“How did you make it out?” I asked her.
“Anemone. She has personal access into the market. I ended up popping out of a wishing well a few districts over.” Part of me felt a little bitter over that knowledge, knowing how long it took us to get to her when we could have just lowered ourselves down a well. “I helped her clean the shop a bit and then she insisted I head home to rest,” she continued, her voice sounding off.
“I’m sorry I had to leave you,” I whispered. I wished I could have changed so much of our journey down below.
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “I- I didn’t even ask. Were you successful?”
<<if $mirror == "safe">>Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the small seashell.
Hazel twisted in my arms. “$name, that’s amazing. You did it. We didn’t even expect for you to get this when you went down there. We thought that it would be another meeting and… I should have known better,” she smiled. “Of course you were able to get it. I don’t know why we ever thought anything different.” <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> I shook my head, not quite able to look her in the eye. It felt like a failure. Far too big of a failure to be able to hold my head up high. I was tired, though and was desperately hoping that tomorrow would be different.
Hazel did not chastise me, however. Instead, she cupped my cheek, brushing her thumb just below my eye. “I know you did the best you could,” she whispered. “I am so proud of you, $name. You were so brave.” <<elseif $mirror == "none">>I shook my head, not quite able to look her in the eye. It felt like a failure. Far too big of a failure to be able to hold my head up high. I was tired, though and was desperately hoping that tomorrow would be different.
Hazel did not chastise me, however. Instead, she cupped my cheek, brushing her thumb just below my eye. “I know you did the best you could,” she whispered. “I am so proud of you, $name. You were so brave.” <</if>>
Placing the shell on the counter, I tipped my head towards hers, pressing my forehead against her own.
“I hate to say this, but can the food wait until morning? I don’t know if I have the energy in me to eat it.”
Hazel’s eyes grew wide as she immediately put down the wooden spoon she brandished. “Oh, of course. I didn’t even– I’m sorry. I should have thought about that. I–”
“Hazel,” I laughed. “Stop. It was a long day for both of us. You don’t have to take care of me. You should be taken care of too.”
She shifted against me, the burner of the stove turning off on its own. “Maybe… maybe we could take care of each other tonight?”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure what she was asking, until she was looking up at me through the thick of her lashes, her lips worrying between her teeth.
“You mean…?”
“If you want,” she said quickly.
[[Could we actually just curl up and fall asleep together?]]
[[Of course, I do]]
[[I'm not really interested in sex]]“Could we actually just curl up and fall asleep together?” I asked. The bone weariness that was coursing through me was barely allowing me to even stay on my feet. As Hazel’s eyes ticked down my body, she seemed to realize that there may be more injuries than she could readily see.
“Come over to the couch,” she said. There was little choice in her words as she tugged me over to the living area and gently placed me down on the cushions. Slowly, she took off my boots, running her fingers up my ankles and calves. I knew she was searching for the worst of the injuries.
“Hazel,” I told her. “Tomorrow, okay? I just want to curl up and sleep.”
She looked as if she were about to argue with me, her fingers tightening on my leg. But I may have looked pathetic enough that she thought twice about pushing. With a sigh, she rose, kicking off her own shoe before crawling onto the couch. She was so small that she slotted perfectly between me and the back cushions, her head resting on my shoulder, her hair brushing against my cheek.
“I will be terribly cross if you bleed out on me,” she whispered sternly.
I laughed, curling my arm around her and tucking my head close. “You can go see Anemone and yell at me if I do.”
She was silent at that, both our minds turning to the ghost in the mirror at the mention of the hairstylist.
“Do you think it was him?” she asked once more.
“I do,” I croaked.
There was silence as the weight of that settled. Then; “Will you be here in the morning?” she asked.
I hugged her tight. “Always.”
[[Chapter Eight|Chapter Eight - Hazel]]“Of course I do,” I said. Everything had been so crazy that while the thought had been on my mind, I had never wanted to push. I just had never expected Hazel to be the one to suggest it first. But, she never ceased to surprise me.
Running her hand down my arm, she linked her fingers with mine before stepping away. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes darker than I had seen them before as she began pulling me through the small kitchen and towards her bedroom door. It was exactly how I pictured it. Plants framing the small windows, pictures of family and friends adorning the walls, and piles of fabric and herbs on every available surface. Organized chaos.
Her bed sat under an open window where the wisps swept in and out. The comforter was a soft green and orange, and the bed itself was neatly made. Sitting on the edge of it, she took both of my hands, looking up at me. The light from the wisps danced across her face.
“I need to say something,” she whispered. I nodded my head, not trusting my own voice. “I know that everything that has been presented to you this last month is a lot. I know that you must feel the weight of it on your shoulders. But when I look at you, I don’t see someone who is crushed beneath the weight of responsibility. I see someone beautiful and strong. I am so happy you came into my life, $name. I know I have only known you for a short time, but I cannot imagine my mornings without you.” She smiled softly, running her thumbs across the backs of my hands. “I get giddy when I wake and know that you are downstairs starting the fire. You are the first person I think about upon waking and the last one I want to see before bed.” Tugging me closer, she opened her legs for me to stand between them, her hands now running low across my belly, just below my navel. “I want to wake up to you tomorrow. After–” she blushed. “Well, you know. After we make ourselves incredibly tired.”
I laughed. Reaching up, I cupped her cheek in my hand, shivering as she turned her face and brushed her lips against my palm. With a heat blooming in my chest, I knew I couldn’t wait any longer.
“I’ll be here in the morning,” I promised her. “And for every morning you’ll have me after.”
“Forever then,” she said.
Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to hers, following her down onto the bed.
[[Fade to black|Chapter Eight - Hazel]]
[[NSFW Scene]]
<<set $hazelsex to "true">>How do you identify?
[[Born male and present as male|Hazel/M NSFW]]
[[Born female and present as female|Hazel/F NSFW]]
[[Born male and present as female|Hazel/TF NSFW]]
[[Born female and present as male|Hazel/TM NSFW]]
<<set $hazelsex to "true">>“Milo,” I gasped. “Milo stop.” His body went limp against mine. “Just stop for a second. What is going on?”
Hesitantly, I ran my hand up his spine, sinking my fingers in the locks of sweaty hair at the nape of his neck.
“I don’t want to talk,” he said after a long-drawn-out moment. His voice was devoid of any sort of emotion as he simply froze against me, hands curled tightly against my waist.
“You’re going to have to eventually.”
<<if $asexual == "false">>He nodded reluctantly. “Tomorrow.” He said. “Tomorrow we can talk. Tonight I– we don’t need to have sex. I just want– do you think maybe you could stay tonight?” <<elseif $asexual == "true">> He nodded reluctantly. “Tomorrow.” He said. “Tomorrow we can talk. Tonight I– fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it seem like we were going to start something. I got carried away and... fuck, $name. I'm really sorry."<</if>>
I pulled back, looking at him as I cupped his cheeks. His eyes were bright and feverish, and he looked like a man who had lost everything all over again. “I’ll stay tonight,” I told him. “Just get word to Hazel please that I’m alive.”
He nodded.
The Distillery was dark as he led me down a rickety set of metal stairs and down into what he said was the living quarters. I couldn’t see anything really. Just the faint glow from a few lights around an old sofa with some blankets tossed over it. After disappearing round the corner, presumably to contact Hazel he came back, standing awkwardly in front of me.
“Did you want to sit?” I prompted.
Scooting over, I gestured for him to join me. When he did, he pulled me against him, grabbing the blanket from the back of the beat up couch, covering us both. It was then that I felt the day begin to get to me. Wrapped up in something warm and knowing I was someplace safe finally had my body relaxing. Thoughts still swirled in my head and I couldn’t help but sink downwards into a miasma of disconnected thoughts and images.
“Thank you,” he said, cheek resting on the crown of my head.
“For what?”
But he didn’t answer. And I slipped off to sleep long before I could question it.
[[Next|Aftercare 2]]“Why did you let me go down there in the first place?” I had thought very little of it before leaving but from almost the moment I stepped foot down within those waters, it was clear I was not prepared. The danger did not just fall on me, either. Hazel never should have stepped foot down there. All of it was far too much for either of us to handle on our own.
“I regretted sending you the moment you left my side,” he confessed. “I should have followed you. I should not have even waited for the coral to run out. The guard is not permitted in the Deep and I let that rule get in my way. I do not believe I will be letting that happen again.”
Clearly my throat, I shifted a little in my seat. It was as if my feet had carried me here without a plan. And now that I was sitting before him, the adrenaline beginning to fade, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do.
“I came here for a much different reason than to just tell you what happened in the Deep,” I started, clinging to the events below rather than address my own feelings. <<if $mirror == "safe">>“Though, I did get Baron Kamille’s favor.”
A soft smile appeared over his features. The likes of which I didn’t know if I had really seen before. “I knew you would.” <<elseif $mirror == "broken">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important.” <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important. I am far more concerned with the wounds you have obviously received.”<</if>>
<<if $pits == "false">>Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “You said,” I continued, “that if anything was to happen between the two of us, we would need to be sound of mind. No drink. Just the two of us making a decision together.”
“I did.” Leaning back, he sat up straight, his eyes beginning to sweep over me hungrily. It caused me to swallow a nervous breath, my hands tapping on the side of the chair.
“Did you mean it?”
“I generally mean what I say,” he confirmed.
He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, I could see. Gabriel sat against his desk, legs firmly planted on the ground and hands resting on his knees. His posture was straight, his uniform crisp and clean, and his hair slicked back to expose the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones.
“Neither of us have drank tonight,” I tried pointing out.
“I had a ginger ale with dinner,” he said sadly.
[[Reach out and playfully smack him on the leg]]
[[Wait. What? What does that have to do with me wanting to kiss you]]
[[Can you please just make a move?]]<<elseif $pits == "true">> Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “There's something going on between us." I told him. It had been an annoyance at the base of my skull. Something that just continued to linger no matter how deplorable I thought he sometimes was.
“There is.”
“I’m not sure I understand why.”
He frowned a little, looking uncertain himself. “No. I agree. I am uncertain of it as well.”
“I don’t particularly like you still.” That was the thing. While I wasn’t repulsed by our time together, I didn’t know if I actually could like the man. The things he stood by. The rules I watched him carry out. As someone who had been on the receiving end of that, I wasn’t sure how I could sit here and consider him anything more than the enemy.
“You are a special brand of irritating I’m not sure I enjoy either,” he told me honestly.
I laughed a little at that. “Not your type, right?”
“Not my type,” he confirmed.
I nodded, letting the silence surround us for one long and agonizing moment.
[[Can you please just make a move?|Can you please just make a move pits]]
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]<</if>>
“Is that what I am? An asset?” The weight of what I had to do was settling firmly on my shoulders. I was the one talking to the Barons, making the meetings. If I messed up, it was on me. I wanted to be something more than a commodity. I wanted to be something more to him.
Gabriel, however, looked upset by my phrasing. Sitting down at the edge of the desk in front of me, he shook his head no. “You know you are so much more than that.”
“Do I?” It felt petty to ask. Or perhaps I just didn’t like the vulnerability that was coming with this moment. But I didn’t regret that the words left my lips. <<if $pits == "true">> “How am I supposed to know that, Gabriel? Because sometimes I still worry this is all a ruse and one wrong step, you’ll throw me in the pits."<</if>>
He didn’t look startled by my question. Just merely ashamed. “Let me rephrase. I had hoped you knew you mean more to me. That you are becoming so much more to me. But perhaps I am remiss in thinking so.” Leaning forward, Gabriel caught my eye. There was a finality to his gaze. One that demanded I pay attention. “$name,” he said firmly. “You are not an asset. You are a member of this team. But more importantly, I would not have stormed the Deep because I was concerned about our plight with the Barons. I would have sent the entirety of the Velvet Guard down there to find you because I could not bear the thought of you down there alone. I regretted sending you there the moment you left my side. I should have followed.”
Clearly my throat, I shifted a little in my seat. It was as if my feet had carried me here without a plan. And now that I was sitting before him, the adrenaline beginning to fade, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do.
“I came here for a much different reason than to just tell you what happened in the Deep,” I started, clinging to the events below rather than address my own feelings. <<if $mirror == "safe">>“Though, I did get Baron Kamille’s favor.”
A soft smile appeared over his features. The likes of which I didn’t know if I had really seen before. “I knew you would.” <<elseif $mirror == "broken">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important.” <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important. I am far more concerned with the wounds you have obviously received.”<</if>>
<<if $pits == "false">>Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “You said,” I continued, “that if anything was to happen between the two of us, we would need to be sound of mind. No drink. Just the two of us making a decision together.”
“I did.” Leaning back, he sat up straight, his eyes beginning to sweep over me hungrily. It caused me to swallow a nervous breath, my hands tapping on the side of the chair.
“Did you mean it?”
“I generally mean what I say,” he confirmed.
He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, I could see. Gabriel sat against his desk, legs firmly planted on the ground and hands resting on his knees. His posture was straight, his uniform crisp and clean, and his hair slicked back to expose the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones.
“Neither of us have drank tonight,” I tried pointing out.
“I had a ginger ale with dinner,” he said sadly.
[[Reach out and playfully smack him on the leg]]
[[Wait. What? What does that have to do with me wanting to kiss you]]
[[Can you please just make a move?]]<<elseif $pits == "true">> Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “There's something going on between us." I told him. It had been an annoyance at the base of my skull. Something that just continued to linger no matter how deplorable I thought he sometimes was.
“There is.”
“I’m not sure I understand why.”
He frowned a little, looking uncertain himself. “No. I agree. I am uncertain of it as well.”
“I don’t particularly like you still.” That was the thing. While I wasn’t repulsed by our time together, I didn’t know if I actually could like the man. The things he stood by. The rules I watched him carry out. As someone who had been on the receiving end of that, I wasn’t sure how I could sit here and consider him anything more than the enemy.
“You are a special brand of irritating I’m not sure I enjoy either,” he told me honestly.
I laughed a little at that. “Not your type, right?”
“Not my type,” he confirmed.
I nodded, letting the silence surround us for one long and agonizing moment.
[[Can you please just make a move?|Can you please just make a move pits]]
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]<</if>>
Shaking my head, I felt an odd sense of panic come over me. “I wouldn’t have wanted you going down there,” I told him. “It’s too dangerous.”
A wry smile crossed his face. “I think I could handle it, $name. Far better than you.” When his smile faltered into something bitter, I couldn’t turn away. “I owe you an apology. We all do, I believe. Never should I have allowed you to go down there on your own. I regretted it the second you left my sight and should have followed you. The guard is not permitted to set foot in the Deep. They have their own system of judgment in place. But I should not have allowed that rule to get in the way of me joining you.”
Clearly my throat, I shifted a little in my seat. It was as if my feet had carried me here without a plan. And now that I was sitting before him, the adrenaline beginning to fade, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do.
“I came here for a much different reason than to just tell you what happened in the Deep,” I started, clinging to the events below rather than address my own feelings. <<if $mirror == "safe">>“Though, I did get Baron Kamille’s favor.”
A soft smile appeared over his features. The likes of which I didn’t know if I had really seen before. “I knew you would.” <<elseif $mirror == "broken">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important.” <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important. I am far more concerned with the wounds you have obviously received.”<</if>>
<<if $pits == "false">>Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “You said,” I continued, “that if anything was to happen between the two of us, we would need to be sound of mind. No drink. Just the two of us making a decision together.”
“I did.” Leaning back, he sat up straight, his eyes beginning to sweep over me hungrily. It caused me to swallow a nervous breath, my hands tapping on the side of the chair.
“Did you mean it?”
“I generally mean what I say,” he confirmed.
He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, I could see. Gabriel sat against his desk, legs firmly planted on the ground and hands resting on his knees. His posture was straight, his uniform crisp and clean, and his hair slicked back to expose the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones.
“Neither of us have drank tonight,” I tried pointing out.
“I had a ginger ale with dinner,” he said sadly.
[[Reach out and playfully smack him on the leg]]
[[Wait. What? What does that have to do with me wanting to kiss you]]
[[Can you please just make a move?]]<<elseif $pits == "true">> Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “There's something going on between us." I told him. It had been an annoyance at the base of my skull. Something that just continued to linger no matter how deplorable I thought he sometimes was.
“There is.”
“I’m not sure I understand why.”
He frowned a little, looking uncertain himself. “No. I agree. I am uncertain of it as well.”
“I don’t particularly like you still.” That was the thing. While I wasn’t repulsed by our time together, I didn’t know if I actually could like the man. The things he stood by. The rules I watched him carry out. As someone who had been on the receiving end of that, I wasn’t sure how I could sit here and consider him anything more than the enemy.
“You are a special brand of irritating I’m not sure I enjoy either,” he told me honestly.
I laughed a little at that. “Not your type, right?”
“Not my type,” he confirmed.
I nodded, letting the silence surround us for one long and agonizing moment.
[[Can you please just make a move?|Can you please just make a move pits]]
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]<</if>>
“Thank you for not intending to leave me there. It actually makes me feel a bit better.” It didn’t make the experience any easier but at least going forward, I had the knowledge that I wasn’t expendable. The way the day had panned out, I think I almost believed that I was.
“I would never have left you there,” he said sharply. “$name, I regretted letting you go down there the second you were out of my sight. I should have followed you.”
“Why didn’t you?” I whispered.
“Because I am a fool who puts my job first. The guard is not permitted to set foot in the Deep. They have their own system of judgment in place. But I should not have allowed that rule to get in the way of me joining you. I no longer know if it is worth being the kind of man who does not separate his home life and work life. Not when I can see how upset you truly are.”
I sniffed, not having realized the tears that had escaped to run down my cheek. It wasn’t much more than a few unexpected drops, but they were still there. Reaching out, Gabriel caught them with the tips of his fingers.
“I am sorry that I failed you. It will not happen again.”
Clearly my throat, I shifted a little in my seat. It was as if my feet had carried me here without a plan. And now that I was sitting before him, the adrenaline beginning to fade, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do.
“I came here for a much different reason than to just tell you what happened in the Deep,” I started, clinging to the events below rather than address my own feelings. <<if $mirror == "safe">>“Though, I did get Baron Kamille’s favor.”
A soft smile appeared over his features. The likes of which I didn’t know if I had really seen before. “I knew you would.” <<elseif $mirror == "broken">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important.” <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important. I am far more concerned with the wounds you have obviously received.”<</if>>
<<if $pits == "false">>Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “You said,” I continued, “that if anything was to happen between the two of us, we would need to be sound of mind. No drink. Just the two of us making a decision together.”
“I did.” Leaning back, he sat up straight, his eyes beginning to sweep over me hungrily. It caused me to swallow a nervous breath, my hands tapping on the side of the chair.
“Did you mean it?”
“I generally mean what I say,” he confirmed.
He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, I could see. Gabriel sat against his desk, legs firmly planted on the ground and hands resting on his knees. His posture was straight, his uniform crisp and clean, and his hair slicked back to expose the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones.
“Neither of us have drank tonight,” I tried pointing out.
“I had a ginger ale with dinner,” he said sadly.
[[Reach out and playfully smack him on the leg]]
[[Wait. What? What does that have to do with me wanting to kiss you]]
[[Can you please just make a move?]]<<elseif $pits == "true">> Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “There's something going on between us." I told him. It had been an annoyance at the base of my skull. Something that just continued to linger no matter how deplorable I thought he sometimes was.
“There is.”
“I’m not sure I understand why.”
He frowned a little, looking uncertain himself. “No. I agree. I am uncertain of it as well.”
“I don’t particularly like you still.” That was the thing. While I wasn’t repulsed by our time together, I didn’t know if I actually could like the man. The things he stood by. The rules I watched him carry out. As someone who had been on the receiving end of that, I wasn’t sure how I could sit here and consider him anything more than the enemy.
“You are a special brand of irritating I’m not sure I enjoy either,” he told me honestly.
I laughed a little at that. “Not your type, right?”
“Not my type,” he confirmed.
I nodded, letting the silence surround us for one long and agonizing moment.
[[Can you please just make a move?|Can you please just make a move pits]]
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]<</if>>
Reaching out, I smacked his leg, only mock glaring at him. “Haha.” I said. He did look rather pleased with himself though. A sight that I was finding I did enjoy.
“What is it you would like, $name?” he asked softly.
“I thought I was making that incredibly clear.”
Nodding, he rolled that statement around for a moment before responding. “I would like for you to make it clearer, I think. Because, you see, I like for my partners to be completely honest with me. That way, I know, in no uncertain terms what is expected. I can then treat you as you deserve. Dedicate myself to you and pledge my service to you and you alone.”
My mouth went dry.
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]
[[Demand that he kisses me]]Ginger ale. He was talking about ginger ale.
“Wait,” I said with a frown. “What does ginger ale have to do with me wanting to kiss you?” When I looked back at him, I could see the wry smile on his lips and feel the blush that now cascaded across my cheeks and chest. “Right. You’re joking,” I said.
“I may need to work on the delivery,” he said. “But please, continue to speak to me about how you want to kiss me. I would very much like to hear more about that.”
“I didn’t realize there was more to say on that topic of conversation.”
“Oh yes,” he murmured. “There is. You see I like for my partners to be completely honest with me, $name. That way, I know, in no uncertain terms what is expected of me. I can then treat you as you deserve. Dedicate myself to you and pledge my service to you and you alone.”
My mouth went dry.
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]
[[Demand that he kisses me]]Rubbing a hand across my face, I shook my head. “As much as I love it when you actually try to joke, can you please just make a move before I throw myself at you?”
“And what if I wish for you to throw yourself at me?” he asked with a raised brow. Standing from his desk, he leaned forward, bracing both his arms on either side of the chair. I could smell the scent of his cologne, midnight and sea salt. This close it clung to me, soaking into my skin and causing my breaths to falter. “What if,” he continued, “I wish for you to make the first move. To show me exactly what you want and how you wish to be treated.”
“How I wish to be treated?” I swallowed.
He nodded, the heat from his breath brushing across my lips. “I like for my partners to be completely honest with me, $name. That way, I know, in no uncertain terms what is expected of me. I can then treat you as you deserve. Dedicate myself to you and pledge my service to you and you alone.”
My mouth went dry.
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]
[[Demand that he kisses me]]“Kiss me,” I demanded of him.
A slow smile curled against his lips as he ducked his head in a soft bow. “Anything you wish.” Kneeling in front of me, he placed his hands on my knees, running them up towards my thighs before walking them slowly towards my face. I spread my legs, giving him room to scoot forward.
A thin ring of silver surrounded his eyes, casting a faint glow from deep within. He continued to kneel in supplication as he stared up at me with an intensity that had me shivering. “I am yours,” he said softly. “I pledge myself to you and now live in service of you.”
“Gabriel…”
Pressing his lips against mine I felt a shudder break loose down my spine. I had told him to kiss me. Demanded it of him really. At that moment I became all too aware of the rules he so eagerly wished to follow.
Surging forward, he gently cradled my face in his hands, breathing me in deeply as if desperate for more. When Gabriel kissed it was all consuming. The world around us halted as he brushed his thumbs across my jaw and coaxed my mouth open to deepen his hold. Heat coiled within me and my chest ached, my eyes fluttering closed at the contact. I felt as if I were melting, my world stopping and starting just against his lips as desire crashed over me in a slow burning roll.
When he pulled away, I nearly chased him forward, only stopping myself when I felt as if I were about to tip from my chair.
“Was that sufficient?” he asked, eyes hooded as he stared at me.
[[More than sufficient]]
[[I don’t know. Maybe we should try it again]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[This is going to get complicated]]<</if>>I didn’t wait for him. It would have been so easy to tell him what to do, and I had a feeling that Gabriel followed orders beautifully, but I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to take hold of him first. To show him what I wanted. I wanted to feel the way his body responded to mine and find out first hand what it was like to kiss this enigma of a man that kneeled before me.
Gripping his face between my palms I pulled him forward, feeling how he surged upwards to greet me. His lips were soft and pliant against me, opening fully when my tongue sought out his own, wishing to gain access to the warm confines of his mouth. I felt him breathe deeply against me, an inhalation of air as if he were a man drowning. When I felt his spine loosen and his body go lax, a thrill of warm heat seeped deep within my belly. My hands now being the only thing holding him in place.
When we pulled apart, his eyes were dark, his lips wet with spit.
“Was that sufficient?” he asked.
[[More than sufficient]]
[[I don’t know. Maybe we should try it again]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[This is going to get complicated]]<</if>>Rubbing a hand across my face, I shook my head. “As much as I love this weird conversation we are having, can you please just make a move before I throw myself at you?”
“And what if I wish for you to throw yourself at me?” he asked with a raised brow. Standing from his desk, he leaned forward, bracing both his arms on either side of the chair. I could smell the scent of his cologne, midnight and sea salt. This close it clung to me, soaking into my skin and causing my breaths to falter. “What if,” he continued, “I wish for you to make the first move. To show me exactly what you want and how you wish to be treated.”
“How I wish to be treated?” I swallowed.
He nodded, the heat from his breath brushing across my lips. “I like for my partners to be completely honest with me, $name. That way, I know, in no uncertain terms what is expected of me. I can then treat you as you deserve. Dedicate myself to you and pledge my service to you and you alone.”
My mouth went dry.
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]
[[Demand that he kisses me]]“More than sufficient,” I breathed. I wanted more. I wanted to lose myself in that warmth and hear what the sound of his breathy moans would be. I wanted so much more than my body was willing to seek tonight and by the way he was looking at me, he knew it as well.
Brushing the hair away from my face, Gabriel’s gaze searched my own for a long moment, as if he had been fearful that this opportunity never would have come. “Let me take care of you tonight. Get you a fresh pair of clothes and something to eat.”
I looked down. I was still crusted in salt from the Deep and my bones ached with the amount I had walked and often times ran while down there. While I wanted to spend the rest of my time wrapped up in Gabriel, I knew he was right.
“I probably need to let Hazel know that I am back,” I told him.
“Yes. Ms. Albright was quite concerned about you. I will take care of that for you.” Standing, it amazed me at how quickly he could switch. How he suddenly seemed every inch of the Warden again as he had a task he needed to perform.
“I, Gabriel, I want to spend time with you tonight,” I told him, wishing to crack the exterior once more and call him back.
“And you will,” he assured. “But let me take care of you and make sure you are comfortable first. Then I am yours for the evening in whatever manner you see fit.”
I stared at him. The man who could barely take time off work to eat or take care of himself, and he was taking the time away from his job for me.
Rising, I reached out for his hand, feeling him take it within his. His skin was smooth and dry, without a single callous despite how often I saw him grip his sword. Raising our clasped hands, he brushed his lips across the back of my knuckles before leading me outside. I walked by him in absolute wonder. Compared to the last time he had escorted me from this building, it now was so different. Stepping outside into the chilled air, Gabriel paused, taking his cloak from his shoulder and settling it on my own. With his arm outstretched, he looked at me kindly.
“Shall we?”
<<if $pits == "false">>I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips. Linking my arm within his, with the jacket of the warden over my shoulders, we began walking through the Night Market together once more. <<elseif $pits == "true">> I rolled my eyes at him. “Cut the gentleman routine. It’s weird given that you were wiling to throw me in a pit of body parts.”
“All the more reason I should be a gentleman,” he said seriously. I didn’t question it. The statement itself feeling like the header for a new beginning. Instead, I walked with him through the Night Market, questioning what I was doing, but feeling a warm seed of anticipation begin to bloom in my stomach.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Eight - Gabriel]]“I don’t know,” I mumbled through kiss swollen lips. “We should probably test it out again.”
The soft rumble from Gabriel’s throat was perfection. Brushing my hair away from my face, he nodded. “I will gladly do as you ask. However, perhaps not here. And perhaps after we get you a change of clothes and something warm to eat.”
I looked down. I was still crusted in salt from the Deep and my bones ached with the amount I had walked and often times ran while down there. While I wanted to spend the rest of my time wrapped up in Gabriel, I knew he was right.
“I probably need to let Hazel know that I am back,” I told him.
“Yes. Ms. Albright was quite concerned about you. I will take care of that for you.” Standing, it amazed me at how quickly he could switch. How he suddenly seemed every inch of the Warden again as he had a task he needed to perform.
“I, Gabriel, I want to spend time with you tonight,” I told him, wishing to crack the exterior once more and call him back.
“And you will,” he assured. “But let me take care of you and make sure you are comfortable first. Then I am yours for the evening in whatever manner you see fit.”
I stared at him. The man who could barely take time off work to eat or take care of himself, and he was taking the time away from his job for me.
Rising, I reached out for his hand, feeling him take it within his. His skin was smooth and dry, without a single callous despite how often I saw him grip his sword. Raising our clasped hands, he brushed his lips across the back of my knuckles before leading me outside. I walked by him in absolute wonder. Compared to the last time he had escorted me from this building, it now was so different. Stepping outside into the chilled air, Gabriel paused, taking his cloak from his shoulder and settling it on my own. With his arm outstretched, he looked at me kindly.
“Shall we?”
<<if $pits == "false">>I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips. Linking my arm within his, with the jacket of the warden over my shoulders, we began walking through the Night Market together once more. <<elseif $pits == "true">> I rolled my eyes at him. “Cut the gentleman routine. It’s weird given that you were wiling to throw me in a pit of body parts.”
“All the more reason I should be a gentleman,” he said seriously. I didn’t question it. The statement itself feeling like the header for a new beginning. Instead, I walked with him through the Night Market, questioning what I was doing, but feeling a warm seed of anticipation begin to bloom in my stomach.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Eight - Gabriel]]"This is going to get complicated," I breathed. The Warden of the market. The very one that had wanted me arrested to begin with, was looking up to me with a heated gaze. I wanted so much more than my body was willing to seek tonight and by the way he was looking at me, he knew it as well.
"We do no have to go further," he assured me. "Your comfort is more important than whatever is brewing."
"No, I want to. I just..." I trailed off. I was inviting in the chaos. Throwing caution to the wind. And I found that I just didn't care.
Brushing the hair away from my face, Gabriel’s gaze searched my own for a long moment, as if he had been fearful that this opportunity never would have come. “Let me take care of you tonight. Get you a fresh pair of clothes and something to eat.”
I looked down. I was still crusted in salt from the Deep and my bones ached with the amount I had walked and often times ran while down there. While I wanted to spend the rest of my time wrapped up in Gabriel, I knew he was right.
“I probably need to let Hazel know that I am back,” I told him.
“Yes. Ms. Albright was quite concerned about you. I will take care of that for you.” Standing, it amazed me at how quickly he could switch. How he suddenly seemed every inch of the Warden again as he had a task he needed to perform.
“I, Gabriel, I want to spend time with you tonight,” I told him, wishing to crack the exterior once more and call him back.
“And you will,” he assured. “But let me take care of you and make sure you are comfortable first. Then I am yours for the evening in whatever manner you see fit.”
I stared at him. The man who could barely take time off work to eat or take care of himself, and he was taking the time away from his job for me.
Rising, I reached out for his hand, feeling him take it within his. His skin was smooth and dry, without a single callous despite how often I saw him grip his sword. Raising our clasped hands, he brushed his lips across the back of my knuckles before leading me outside. I walked by him in absolute wonder. Compared to the last time he had escorted me from this building, it now was so different. Stepping outside into the chilled air, Gabriel paused, taking his cloak from his shoulder and settling it on my own. With his arm outstretched, he looked at me kindly.
“Shall we?”
<<if $pits == "false">>I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips. Linking my arm within his, with the jacket of the warden over my shoulders, we began walking through the Night Market together once more. <<elseif $pits == "true">> I rolled my eyes at him. “Cut the gentleman routine. It’s weird given that you were wiling to throw me in a pit of body parts.”
“All the more reason I should be a gentleman,” he said seriously. I didn’t question it. The statement itself feeling like the header for a new beginning. Instead, I walked with him through the Night Market, questioning what I was doing, but feeling a warm seed of anticipation begin to bloom in my stomach.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Eight - Gabriel]]<img src="images/Ch8.png"
height="300" width="900">
It was cold. Far colder than I thought the Night Market was capable of becoming. But when I awoke, I instantly pulled the blankets up and over my nose, blinking in the predawn light of the room. We had walked two feet across the bridge and into the market for food before my feet gave out beneath me and Gabriel had instead veered us towards a small set of steps that led down to a secluded beach. There, there were at least a half a dozen bungalows. Small circular huts with thatched roofs. Gabriel told me they were communal housing. Places in which the guard could hold up if they didn’t have the time to go home. Since he was the Warden, he got one all to himself.
It was there that he guided me towards bed and went to Hazel’s, not only procuring tonics but also letting her know that I was safe within the Night Market once more. After bandaging me upon his return, and giving me whatever Hazel had bottled for him, I felt immensely better. <<if $deepwounds == "true">> It still stung when I turned just right, but I could move without the worry of cracking another rib. <</if>>
At some point, I had fallen asleep, having now wasted the day off that I knew Gabriel had taken. My eyes had not managed to stay open though, and the events of the Deep pulled me under into a slumber so far removed from the waking world that I wasn’t even sure I existed any longer.
My sleep was dreamless. I suspect that was Hazel’s doing as well. My mind wasn’t filled with the nightmares I thought it might have been. Instead, it was as if I was under a heavy blanket that kept me down for far longer than I normally slept.
When I finally came to in the chilled room, I spied Gabriel sat at the desk across the way, scribbling in a black leather-bound ledger. Even during his so-called day off, he did not seem able to keep himself from work.
Shifting on the bed, I held the blanket tight around me. He turned upon hearing me stir, setting down his pen. “Good morning,” he said softly.
“Hi.”
“How are you feeling?”
[[Physically decent. Emotionally not]]
[[Still taking it all in]]
[[I think I’m okay]]
“Physically, I’m fine,” I told him. I knew that I wouldn’t have been without Hazel’s tonics and was glad Gabriel had the foresight to get them for me and let me sleep. I shuddered to think where I would be if I had not downed them before bed. <<if $deepwounds == "true">>The bruises that littered my body, the cuts and scrapes, all of it were pronounced scars that I knew should be etching across my skin. But instead, they were only faint whispers. My mind though, my mind could see them as if they were still there. As if someone was pressing the bruises into my skin still, making them purple and mottled. Pulling the blanket tighter around me, I took a deep breath.<</if>>
“I think emotionally, this may be a bit of a different story.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to banish the images of the endless void that had surrounded me, the teeth of the angler fish, the way the silence had surrounded me like an eternal echo chamber.
“It may take a few days,” he told me gently. “We may be able to heal your physical wounds, but wounds of the mind take far longer to heal.”
Twisting the edges of the blankets between my fingers, I vaguely remembered waking up screaming. It was soft and hazy and another tonic had been given to me in the depths of night. “Did you have to give me something to help me sleep?”
He nodded. “Hazel assured me that it would help. Seeing as most of your wounds are gone, I dare say she was right.”
Flashes of scraped hands, buried in glittering glass sand, flickered behind my closed eyes. Me digging relentlessly into the earth for answers. The sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. I felt my chest squeeze in panic.
“I have more tonics if you need them,” Gabriel said. I noticed he had not moved. He was keeping his motions still and calculated, so as not to overwhelm me.
Quickly, I shook my head. “I have a headache,” I told him. Probably from the lack of sleep. “But, I- I don’t think I want any more tonics. Not for now.”
Gabriel hummed in response. It was doubtful he was going to tell me how hurt I had been. Maybe he didn’t even know.
“I want you to take your time this morning. I have already been into the office. I’ll be escorting you when you are ready to head back to Hazel’s. We’ll be meeting there to discuss the events of the Deep and how we wish to proceed going forth.”
[[Yeah, I guess we need to fill in the others]]
[[Can’t I get a day off]]
[[Is Hazel okay?]]“I’m still taking it all in,” I told him hesitantly. I knew I should be in pain. That it should be shooting through me like wildfire. The sand had blasted across my skin, cutting small slivers against me. Ones I hadn’t even noticed until I reached the open air. But I was somehow content. My limbs felt loose and at peace and while the horrors of the Deep I’m sure were ones that would stick with me, they felt oddly far away. Like they were some distant dream bubble that I had yet to pop.
What that meant about how I was handling everything? I wasn’t entirely sure. What I did know, however, was that I was alive. And that was honestly more than I thought I would have been during my darkest moments down there.
Shifting, I sat up a little on the bed, still getting used to my surroundings. The room was barren and lacked personality. Which, given the state of Gabriel’s office, truly did not surprise me. “I have a headache,” I told him. Maybe it was what was blocking out the rest of the pain.
“How severe?”
“Not terrible. More like a dull throb.”
Gabriel hummed in response. It was doubtful he was going to tell me how hurt I had been. Maybe he didn’t even know.
“I want you to take your time this morning. I have already been into the office. I’ll be escorting you when you are ready to head back to Hazel’s. We’ll be meeting there to discuss the events of the Deep and how we wish to proceed going forth.”
[[Yeah, I guess we need to fill in the others]]
[[Can’t I get a day off]]
[[Is Hazel okay?]]“I’m okay. I think. Hazel’s tonics probably did wonders.” The amount of aches that had begun to twist around my muscles after my body had come down from the adrenaline had my mind clouded in pain. I could still feel the way the water had pushed against me. As if it were a phantom hand, trying to grasp at me from the beyond. But while my body tensed for the bruising grip, it was only a memory. My body was stiff and needed to move gingerly, but the overall pain was gone. The only thing lingering now was a headache that I couldn’t quite shake.
Shifting, I sat up a little on the bed, still getting used to my surroundings. The room was barren and lacked personality. Which, given the state of Gabriel’s office, truly did not surprise me. “I have a headache,” I told him, “but other than that I’m okay. Somehow.”
Gabriel hummed in response. It was doubtful he was going to tell me how hurt I had been. Maybe he didn’t even know.
“I want you to take your time this morning. I have already been into the office. I’ll be escorting you when you are ready to head back to Hazel’s. We’ll be meeting there to discuss the events of the Deep and how we wish to proceed going forth.”
[[Yeah, I guess we need to fill in the others]]
[[Can’t I get a day off]]
[[Is Hazel okay?]]I felt the sigh leave me. While I wanted to lay in bed for the rest of the day, or at the very least curl up in front of the fire, I knew that responsibility would always take precedence. The others were waiting. The balance of the world was tipping more and more in our favor and to leave them in the dark while I slept didn’t seem right. There would be time for a break later. For now, duty still called.
Rubbing a hand across my face, I nodded in consent. “Yeah. We need to get everyone on the same page.”
“We can go as soon as you are ready,” Gabriel was saying. One leg rested on the other, large hands settled in his lap. He looked the perfect picture of calm, and it sent a small bolt of desire through me. “Perhaps, during that time, I could make you dinner. I would prefer for you not to do anything for the next few days and let me take care of you.”
I raised a brow at him. It was far more presumptuous than I had ever heard him be before. I didn’t know why or how, but it caused him to bow his head, a small smile on his lips that I had not seen before.
“That is, if you will permit it.”
[[You don’t need to be taking care of me]]
[[I would love for you to take care of me]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[Quite the change in tone for you]]<</if>>“Already? Can’t I get a day off after all of that?” Gabriel was a workaholic, but it didn’t mean I was.
“We need to debrief everyone. And then yes. I think you are deserving of a day off if that is what you wish.” Leaning back in his chair, Gabriel regarded me evenly. One leg resting on the other, large hands settled in his lap. He looked the perfect picture of calm, and it sent a small bolt of desire through me. “Perhaps, during that time, I could make you dinner. I would prefer for you not to do anything for the next few days and let me take care of you.”
I raised a brow at him. It was far more presumptuous than I had ever heard him be before. I didn’t know why or how, but it caused him to bow his head, a small smile on his lips that I had not seen before.
“That is, if you will permit it.”
[[You don’t need to be taking care of me]]
[[I would love for you to take care of me]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[Quite the change in tone for you]]<</if>>“Is Hazel okay?” The moment I left her came flashing back. The stricken look in her eyes after seeing the spirit of what may have been her brother. The way that time ticked away from us as we raced against the fade of a coral.
“She is fine,” Gabriel assured me. “When I saw her she was more relieved that you were alive than anything else.”
Part of me wanted to stay in this bed a while longer. I felt like I could sleep for a week. The other part, wanted to see Hazel with my own eyes, however. Make sure she was okay.
“We can go as soon as you are ready,” Gabriel was saying. One leg rested on the other, large hands settled in his lap. He looked the perfect picture of calm, and it sent a small bolt of desire through me. “Perhaps, during that time, I could make you dinner. I would prefer for you not to do anything for the next few days and let me take care of you.”
I raised a brow at him. It was far more presumptuous than I had ever heard him be before. I didn’t know why or how, but it caused him to bow his head, a small smile on his lips that I had not seen before.
“That is, if you will permit it.”
[[You don’t need to be taking care of me]]
[[I would love for you to take care of me]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[Quite the change in tone for you]]<</if>>
“Gabriel,” I said softly. “You don’t need to be taking care of me.”
“But what if I wish to?” he asked, eyes tipping towards mine.
It brought a warmth through me. Normally, I did things on my own. Living with Hazel the opportunity to do anything independently was often times not possible. Though, I supposed now, I was laid up in bed.
Rising from the leather chair, he walked over to the small kitchenette in the corner. A steaming stainless steel kettle sat next to two tin mugs, the likes of which Gabriel poured thick black kafe within.
I gratefully took the drink from him, wrapping my fingers around the stinging warmth. “Why is it so cold this morning?” I asked. Outside the window, the world was dark like usual. But I could see bits of frost gathering at the corners of the glass.
“I am unsure. That is not to say that the market does not get cold, but this does seem rather early for a changing of seasons. Perhaps the upheaval of the gates has caused a problem. Did you learn anything about the Gatekeeper down there?”
I took a sip of my kafe, about to answer, when he shook his head.
“Apologies. We shall wait for the debrief. We do not need to discuss business right now. What would you like for breakfast?”
“What are my options?”
“Toast.” He winced. “I’m afraid I have nothing more. Unless you would like me to go out for you.”
“No,” I assured him. “Toast is fine.”
I watched in comfortable silence as he fixed a few slices of toast, coating them in honey. Bringing the plate over, he placed them on my bedside table, sitting at the edge of the bed as well.
“$name, I do think we need to have a discussion.”
I paused, toast halfway to my mouth and hanging from my lips. “Okay.”
“What is it you intend to receive from me?”
I blinked, swallowing the sweet bread. “What do you mean?”
“Do you wish for me to take charge of a situation or do you wish for me to follow your lead?”
[[Take charge]]
[[Follow my lead]]
[[Do what makes you comfortable]]“Being pampered after all that sounds more than amazing,” I told him sincerely. He looked delighted at the opportunity. Rising from the leather chair, he walked over to the small kitchenette in the corner. A steaming stainless steel kettle sat next to two tin mugs, the likes of which Gabriel poured thick black kafe within.
I gratefully took the drink from him, wrapping my fingers around the stinging warmth. “Why is it so cold this morning?” I asked. Outside the window, the world was dark like usual. But I could see bits of frost gathering at the corners of the glass.
“I am unsure. That is not to say that the market does not get cold, but this does seem rather early for a changing of seasons. Perhaps the upheaval of the gates has caused a problem. Did you learn anything about the Gatekeeper down there?”
I took a sip of my kafe, about to answer, when he shook his head.
“Apologies. We shall wait for the debrief. We do not need to discuss business right now. What would you like for breakfast?”
“What are my options?”
“Toast.” He winced. “I’m afraid I have nothing more. Unless you would like me to go out for you.”
“No,” I assured him. “Toast is fine.”
I watched in comfortable silence as he fixed a few slices of toast, coating them in honey. Bringing the plate over, he placed them on my bedside table, sitting at the edge of the bed as well.
“$name, I do think we need to have a discussion.”
I paused, toast halfway to my mouth and hanging from my lips. “Okay.”
“What is it you intend to receive from me?”
I blinked, swallowing the sweet bread. “What do you mean?”
“Do you wish for me to take charge of a situation or do you wish for me to follow your lead?”
[[Take charge]]
[[Follow my lead]]
[[Do what makes you comfortable]]“Quite the different tone for you. Wanting to take care of me.” Rising from the leather chair, he walked over to the small kitchenette in the corner. A steaming stainless steel kettle sat next to two tin mugs, the likes of which Gabriel poured thick black kafe within.
“I told you, $name. I am unsure of what is happening between you and I. But that does not mean I do not wish to somehow try.”
I gratefully took the drink from him, wrapping my fingers around the stinging warmth. I rolled his words around in my head, unsure what to make of them. We had a cease fire now, but what would happen the first moment we disagreed on something again? I chose not to think about it too thoroughly at the moment. Not until I felt as if I could address the problem with a bit of a clearer head.
“Why is it so cold this morning?” I asked. Outside the window, the world was dark like usual. But I could see bits of frost gathering at the corners of the glass.
“I am unsure. That is not to say that the market does not get cold, but this does seem rather early for a changing of seasons. Perhaps the upheaval of the gates has caused a problem. Did you learn anything about the Gatekeeper down there?”
I took a sip of my kafe, about to answer, when he shook his head.
“Apologies. We shall wait for the debrief. We do not need to discuss business right now. What would you like for breakfast?”
“What are my options?”
“Toast.” He winced. “I’m afraid I have nothing more. Unless you would like me to go out for you.”
“No,” I assured him. “Toast is fine.”
I watched in comfortable silence as he fixed a few slices of toast, coating them in honey. Bringing the plate over, he placed them on my bedside table, sitting at the edge of the bed as well.
“$name, I do think we need to have a discussion.”
I paused, toast halfway to my mouth and hanging from my lips. “Okay.”
“What is it you intend to receive from me?”
I blinked, swallowing the sweet bread. “What do you mean?”
“Do you wish for me to take charge of a situation or do you wish for me to follow your lead?”
[[Take charge]]
[[Follow my lead]]
[[Do what makes you comfortable]]
“I think I’d prefer it if you took charge,” I told him. Curling my feet under me, I felt the world around me. It was still so foreign and new. I just wanted to be safe. To be cared for in a way that required me not to plan or think. I wanted to know that at the end of the day, he could hold me up in a way that I needed him to. <<if $pits == "true">> The very idea made my stomach knot in uncertainty. The trust I was putting in him for this was not something I had thought I would ever be able to give.<</if>>
“I can do that. Because it is what you wish,” he told me.
I frowned at the wording. “Is it not what you want?”
“I want whatever is going to make you happy. And if taking the lead and making certain decisions is that, I can do that for you. But I also need you to know, that I do find strength in following your direction.”
There was a sincerity to his tone that I had not considered. “I think life is chaos right now,” I started. “Knowing that you are taking the lead allows one more storm to calm in my mind.”
“Then I will gladly take the lead until you tell me otherwise.” There was a flash of guilt across his eyes. A wince that I knew he did not intend for me to see but was there anyway. “Perhaps if I had done that from the beginning, you never would have been in the situation you were in.”
<<if $pits == "true">> “There are probably a lot of things you could have done different in the beginning,” I pointed out to him.<</if>>
When I noticed the small frown on my face, I worried I missteped somehow. “Something’s bothering you,” I pointed out. I didn’t ask. There was no point when I already knew it to be true.
He frowned. “I do not like how we handled the situation of the Deep. How //I// handled it. I feel at fault for your wounds and lingering discontent you have.”
[[I was the one that pressed forward into danger]]
[[I do think that there could have been more planning]]
[[You all are putting a lot on me without asking me about it first]]
<<set $gabriel to "dom">>“I would prefer it if you would follow my lead,” I told him. “We can kind of talk as we go about what all of that means for us but for now, I like the idea of you deferring to me.” <<if $pits == "true">> I couldn’t imagine me holding out that same amount of trust to him. The fact that he was willing to do it for me went a long way.<</if>>
Gabriel nodded his head, swallowing thickly. I watched his throat bob up and down and felt something heat at the base of my spine. His life was full of rules and order. It was designed around leading men and women, tasking them with protecting the market. The weight of the world fell on his shoulder in an entirely different way than it did mine. There was a sort of kinship that I saw in that. But I found that I wanted to take care of him through that. That my own comfort would come through helping him relax because the man did not seem to be one who could easily do so.
When I noticed the small frown on my face, I worried I missteped somehow. “Something’s bothering you,” I pointed out. I didn’t ask. There was no point when I already knew it to be true.
He frowned. “I do not like how we handled the situation of the Deep. How //I// handled it. I feel at fault for your wounds and lingering discontent you have.”
[[I was the one that pressed forward into danger]]
[[I do think that there could have been more planning]]
[[You all are putting a lot on me without asking me about it first]]
<<set $gabriel to "sub">>“I only want you to do what makes you comfortable, Gabriel. I’m still learning so much about myself as it is. I think we just navigate this as we go.” In the end, it was more important for both of us to feel safe and do what made us happy, rather than define a set of rules that I was almost sure neither of us had the capacity to navigate at the moment. Not with everything else that was going on.
Reaching out, he took my hand, lifting it to his lips. “What makes me comfortable is your happiness and safety, $name. Nothing more.” I nearly laughed as he voiced a mirror of the words running through my head.
I smiled, running my thumb across his skin. “Thank you.” I could see it though. Something lingered in his eyes that he was continuing to try and hide. “Something is bothering you.” I pointed out.
He frowned. “I do not like how we handled the situation of the Deep. How //I// handled it. I feel at fault for your wounds and lingering discontent you have.”
[[I was the one that pressed forward into danger]]
[[I do think that there could have been more planning]]
[[You all are putting a lot on me without asking me about it first]]
<<set $gabriel to "sub">>Sitting up in bed, I set aside my cup of kafe. “Gabriel, I was the one that pressed forward into danger. I did not need to jump down that well into the darkest part of the caverns. The plan had been to contact Baron Kamille through Anemone. Something in which Hazel and I did succeed in doing. You could not predict what I did after that.”
“If you had known what awaited you, would you have made the same decision?”
“Do you even know what awaited me?” I asked. From what I could see, the Deep was an uninhabited vast expanse of nothingness where only mindless creatures and the dead roamed. It was doubtful, even Gabriel, Warden of the Night Market, knew the entirety of what was down there.
His lips twisted into a frown. “Admittedly, no.”
“Then the question is a moot point. I cannot answer it when there is no way for me to have known what I was getting into. There was no way I could have even been properly warned.”
“Still…”
<<if $gabriel == "sub">>I placed my hand on his cheek. “Stop,” I whispered. “I am safe. You are taking care of me. Please do not beat yourself up over this.”
His eyes fell shut, dark lashes brushing against his skin. “I just cannot stand the thought of you not having returned. Especially before I was given the ability to do this.”
“Do what?”
His eyes ticked down to my lips. “May I?” I nodded.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to my own, my hand still cupping the stubble of his jaw. His lips moved against me, asking permission for them to open. They were soft and supple and sent a tingle shivering down my spine. I felt my heart flop in my chest and the rest of the chill run from my skin. <<elseif $gabriel == "dom">>His eyes fell shut, dark lashes brushing against his skin. “I just cannot stand the thought of you not having returned. Especially before I was given the ability to do this.”
“Do what?”
I gasped as he pressed his lips to mine, both hands coming forward to cup my face within his wide palms. The kiss was firm, the scrape of his stubble rubbing against the line of my jaw. I felt my heart flop in my chest and the rest of the chill run from my skin.<</if>>
Pulling away, he tipped his forehead against my own. “I swear, I will not allow anything bad to happen to you, $name. Ever again.”
I sighed. The guilt was tracing across him in small lines of stress. But the situation was too new. Too fresh. We both needed time. Instead of answering him, I pressed my lips against him again, and lost myself in the newness of what I now held and the comfort it contained.
[[Next|Apothecary Gabriel]]Taking a sip of my kafe, I set it aside. “I think there could have been more planning,” I said. Before he could say anything, I held up my hand. “And that might be on all of us. I don’t know anything about the Night Market, and we all have been operating on such a rush that I think we are beginning to trip over our own feet as we tumble down a hill.”
“You should not be expected to know the dangers of this world. Most do not. But I am the Warden of this market and I should have better prepared you.”
“Then we just go forward, knowing that I need to be better prepared before entering a situation with a Baron.”
“Still….”
<<if $gabriel == "sub">>I placed my hand on his cheek. “Stop,” I whispered. “I am safe. You are taking care of me. Please do not beat yourself up over this.”
His eyes fell shut, dark lashes brushing against his skin. “I just cannot stand the thought of you not having returned. Especially before I was given the ability to do this.”
“Do what?”
His eyes ticked down to my lips. “May I?” I nodded.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to my own, my hand still cupping the stubble of his jaw. His lips moved against me, asking permission for them to open. They were soft and supple and sent a tingle shivering down my spine. I felt my heart flop in my chest and the rest of the chill run from my skin. <<elseif $gabriel == "dom">>His eyes fell shut, dark lashes brushing against his skin. “I just cannot stand the thought of you not having returned. Especially before I was given the ability to do this.”
“Do what?”
I gasped as he pressed his lips to mine, both hands coming forward to cup my face within his wide palms. The kiss was firm, the scrape of his stubble rubbing against the line of my jaw. I felt my heart flop in my chest and the rest of the chill run from my skin.<</if>>
Pulling away, he tipped his forehead against my own. “I swear, I will not allow anything bad to happen to you, $name. Ever again.”
I sighed. The guilt was tracing across him in small lines of stress. But the situation was too new. Too fresh. We both needed time. Instead of answering him, I pressed my lips against him again, and lost myself in the newness of what I now held and the comfort it contained.
[[Next|Apothecary Gabriel]]“I think you all are putting a lot on me without asking me about it first,” I said, feeling the words tumble out before I could stop myself. Or, better yet, before something could interrupt us. Putting my kafe aside, I looked up at him. “I understand that my situation within the Night Market is different. That I don’t necessarily have the ability to make all the right choices. Or even the most informed choices. But that doesn’t mean that the rest of you gets to make them for me.”
There was a flicker of horror that crossed his eyes and I was suddenly all too aware that he hadn’t realized that this was what everyone had been doing. I could see the shame written there and my words, however. The complete desolation that came with knowing he had caused me pain.
“$name, I am so sorry. I should have said something earlier. I should have taken your feelings into account and…” he trailed off, shaking his head.
“We know better going forward,” I told him. “I don’t even know if I was aware of how uncomfortable in made me until recently.”
“Still…”
<<if $gabriel == "sub">>I placed my hand on his cheek. “Stop,” I whispered. “I am safe. You are taking care of me. Please do not beat yourself up over this.”
His eyes fell shut, dark lashes brushing against his skin. “I just cannot stand the thought of you not having returned. Especially before I was given the ability to do this.”
“Do what?”
His eyes ticked down to my lips. “May I?” I nodded.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to my own, my hand still cupping the stubble of his jaw. His lips moved against me, asking permission for them to open. They were soft and supple and sent a tingle shivering down my spine. I felt my heart flop in my chest and the rest of the chill run from my skin. <<elseif $gabriel == "dom">>His eyes fell shut, dark lashes brushing against his skin. “I just cannot stand the thought of you not having returned. Especially before I was given the ability to do this.”
“Do what?”
I gasped as he pressed his lips to mine, both hands coming forward to cup my face within his wide palms. The kiss was firm, the scrape of his stubble rubbing against the line of my jaw. I felt my heart flop in my chest and the rest of the chill run from my skin.<</if>>
Pulling away, he tipped his forehead against my own. “I swear, I will not allow anything bad to happen to you, $name. Ever again.”
I sighed. The guilt was tracing across him in small lines of stress. But the situation was too new. Too fresh. We both needed time. Instead of answering him, I pressed my lips against him again, and lost myself in the newness of what I now held and the comfort it contained.
[[Next|Apothecary Gabriel]]It took some time but the two of us managed to leave the little cottage, heading towards the burnt out alley and Hazel's apothecary.
Cold air brushed against my cheeks as we entered through the front gates. The chimney was puffing out plumes of gray, iridescent smoke while the stained-glass windows of the apothecary had a warm glow pouring from inside. I held Gabriel’s hand within mine, feeling as if our fingers had frozen together. The walk to the apothecary itself had been uneventful with Gabriel checking on me quite a few times to make sure that I was still feeling okay. I wasn’t quite sure what was in those tonics but I felt almost better than I had before entering the Deep. Aside from the damn headache, that was. Even after breakfast and a hot shower, it was something that I couldn’t seem to shake.
Pushing open the front door, we entered the apothecary, the spicy scent of witch hazel and burnt sage filling our senses. I went to go call out to Hazel, not seeing the woman, but she seemed to appear from nowhere, throwing herself into my arms, causing me to stumble back into Gabriel’s broad chest.
“You’re alive,” she breathed. “Gabriel said you were, of course, but I didn’t know if I could believe him until you were actually here. And now you are and you’re alive and… oh $name, I am so sorry. Everything went so terribly wrong down in the Deep, and you never should have gone down in the first place and…”
I wrapped my arms around Hazel. “It’s okay,” I whispered to her, feeling her tears wet my shoulder. “It’s okay, Hazel. Gabriel and I talked this morning. There are a few things we need to change around when it comes to how we do things with the Barons but overall, I’m okay. Your tonics worked wonders.”
I could feel her slump a little against me, relief flooding her small form. “Just thinking of you in that awful place,” she shook her head. “I hate it.” Pulling back, she wiped at her eyes. “I have a breakfast stew on. And don’t either of you think about not eating it. I’ve been up all night with nervous energy and if one of you refuses to partake in my hospitality I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.”
From behind me, Gabriel nodded at this sentiment, sagely. “I would love whatever you have to offer, Ms. Albright.” I tossed him a thankful smile over my shoulder.
The three of us wandered over to the small eating area. A familiar place that was now becoming far more comforting than it had been the first day I had stiffly sat upon those cushions, unsure what my life entailed next. To my surprise, Milo was already there, an empty bowl of stew before him.
“Good to see you alive,” he said with a lopsided smile. His eyes were clearly checking me over for injuries and I couldn’t help but notice the dark smudges under his own amber gaze, or the way he looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week.
“I invited Belladonna over this morning,” Hazel said before I could comment on Milo’s looks. “How did that gate go this morning, Gabriel?”
I paused, turning to look at the man. He didn’t look surprised by Hazel’s words and it was only now I recalled how he excused himself earlier in the morning, to take care of a few things at work.
“Are you talking about the one outside of Renaissance Alley?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. I checked on its status before you awoke. How did you know where it opened?”
“That’s where I popped out, and I couldn’t get home until the Guard had everything under control.”
“Oh, Renaissance Alley is lovely,” Hazel said. “They have such pretty bundles of herbs there. And their soaps rival the rain markets.”
Settling down onto the sofa, I scooted over so Gabriel could sit next to me. When his hand brushed against mine I heard Hazel give a soft squeak of delight, but she made to hide it, averting her eyes in some form of privacy. “I met back up with Caliban,” I told them. “He uh- he was in the cell next to me when I first arrived at the Night Market.”
“I’m glad you had someone familiar there when you came back,” Hazel said, smiling softly. I thought about how she would have had to navigate home on her own, unsure what was going on with me or even if we had succeeded. That, and having seen her brother for the first time in years.
It loomed over us, an awkward shift in the room.
“Hazel already told me,” Milo answered. When Hazel tipped her head up towards him, it was with obvious trepidation.
[[Is that why you look like shit?]]
[[Do you believe her now?]]
[[I’m not sure we should jump to conclusions yet]]
“Is this why you look like shit?” It was a joke. I meant it as a joke. But I couldn’t help but notice how when the words left my mouth, they suddenly became all too real. Milo really didn’t look well. He looked like a man who had been on a drinking binge and hadn’t quite come down yet.
“So you believe it too, huh?” he asked with a small roll of his eyes.
“Believe what exactly?” Gabriel asked.
“We contacted Malcolm,” Hazel said eagerly. “Anemone was able to call out to him. It was brief but we know now that he is around. That he is back in the Night Market. I think this means I’ll be able to call him home.”
“You saw a woman talk in a deep voice while cutting some hair. You got no proof, Hazel,” Milo was saying.
“I would think I would know my own brother, Milo. And if you had been down there, I know you would feel the same way.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, I watched as Milo gritted his teeth. “I hate to ask it Hazel, but where are our priorities going to be then? This you bowing out?”
She frowned, startled at the question. “What? No. I would never abandon all of you. Saving the market is of course important. But Malcolm might be a part of that. If we can get him back then maybe this entire Gatekeeper thing won’t even be an issue.”
“And how do you want to get him back, Hazel?” Milo snapped. It was a crack through the room that I had not been expecting. Gabriel readied himself next to me and I stiffened slightly as I tried to understand just what he was suggesting.
The room went quiet. Not even the skittering of Mr. Billows sounded in the corners of the shop, nor the creepy shadows I normally saw slink forth during the pockets of forced hush. Milo and Hazel stared at each other, both of them unblinking as they locked themselves in a war that I knew I was not entirely privy to.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered to him.
“Where are all the birds, Hazel?” Milo asked, voice thin. Though I could see the worry glaze his eyes. “That back area near the creek used to be full of wildlife. Where are they?”
[[Hazel, what is he talking about?]]
[[Milo, leave her alone]]
[[Maybe we should table this for now]]Eyes flicking between Milo and Hazel, I asked what I was sure was heavy on everyone's mind. “Do you believe her now?”
Milo snorted, the bark of laughter escaping him mirthless. “What does it matter? It’s clear everyone else does.”
Next to me, Gabriel was frowning, still not quite in the loop. “What exactly are we discussing here?” he asked.
“We contacted Malcolm,” Hazel said eagerly. “Anemone was able to call out to him. It was brief but we know now that he is around. That he is back in the Night Market. I think this means I’ll be able to call him home.”
“You saw a woman talk in a deep voice while cutting some hair. You got no proof, Hazel,” Milo was saying.
“I would think I would know my own brother, Milo. And if you had been down there, I know you would feel the same way.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, I watched as Milo gritted his teeth. “I hate to ask it Hazel, but where are our priorities going to be then? This you bowing out?”
She frowned, startled at the question. “What? No. I would never abandon all of you. Saving the market is of course important. But Malcolm might be a part of that. If we can get him back then maybe this entire Gatekeeper thing won’t even be an issue.”
“And how do you want to get him back, Hazel?” Milo snapped. It was a crack through the room that I had not been expecting. Gabriel readied himself next to me and I stiffened slightly as I tried to understand just what he was suggesting.
The room went quiet. Not even the skittering of Mr. Billows sounded in the corners of the shop, nor the creepy shadows I normally saw slink forth during the pockets of forced hush. Milo and Hazel stared at each other, both of them unblinking as they locked themselves in a war that I knew I was not entirely privy to.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered to him.
“Where are all the birds, Hazel?” Milo asked, voice thin. Though I could see the worry glaze his eyes. “That back area near the creek used to be full of wildlife. Where are they?”
[[Hazel, what is he talking about?]]
[[Milo, leave her alone]]
[[Maybe we should table this for now]]I was hesitant to agree with either of them. On one hand, I knew that we had contacted someone. But in the end, I didn’t know Malcolm like they did. I didn’t feel comfortable making any sort of definitive conclusions until the man himself told me his name. “Maybe we should hold off on deciding whether that was him,” I suggested carefully. “We still aren’t a hundred percent certain with what we saw.”
“I am,” Hazel said. “It was him. I know it was him.”
Next to me, Gabriel was frowning, still not quite in the loop. “What exactly are we discussing here?” he asked.
“We contacted Malcolm,” Hazel said eagerly. “Anemone was able to call out to him. It was brief but we know now that he is around. That he is back in the Night Market. I think this means I’ll be able to call him home.”
“You saw a woman talk in a deep voice while cutting some hair. You got no proof, Hazel,” Milo was saying.
“I would think I would know my own brother, Milo. And if you had been down there, I know you would feel the same way.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, I watched as Milo gritted his teeth. “I hate to ask it Hazel, but where are our priorities going to be then? This you bowing out?”
She frowned, startled at the question. “What? No. I would never abandon all of you. Saving the market is of course important. But Malcolm might be a part of that. If we can get him back then maybe this entire Gatekeeper thing won’t even be an issue.”
“And how do you want to get him back, Hazel?” Milo snapped. It was a crack through the room that I had not been expecting. Gabriel readied himself next to me and I stiffened slightly as I tried to understand just what he was suggesting.
The room went quiet. Not even the skittering of Mr. Billows sounded in the corners of the shop, nor the creepy shadows I normally saw slink forth during the pockets of forced hush. Milo and Hazel stared at each other, both of them unblinking as they locked themselves in a war that I knew I was not entirely privy to.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered to him.
“Where are all the birds, Hazel?” Milo asked, voice thin. Though I could see the worry glaze his eyes. “That back area near the creek used to be full of wildlife. Where are they?”
[[Hazel, what is he talking about?]]
[[Milo, leave her alone]]
[[Maybe we should table this for now]]“Hazel,” I started slowly. “What is he talking about?”
Hazel’s eyes flicked away while Milo’s still laid trained on hers. I could see a weight of horror settled across him at that. It was a confirmation that now lay across his shoulders and the sight of it sent my stomach twisting into something awful.
“Perhaps now is not the time,” Gabriel said, proverbially stepping between the two of them. Milo’s eyes fell as Hazel wrapped her arms around herself. “$name, what is the status of Baron Kamille’s favor? We should start with that.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Belladonna before getting into everything that happened?” Hazel asked, her voice small.
“Not necessary,” Gabriel said. “Somehow, I am sure Ms. Malady already knows.”
<<if $mirror == "broken">> “I didn’t get it,” I said, feeling my stomach churn at the admittance of failure. “I mean, I found what she had asked for but it was broken. For some reason that was my fault.”
“No. Oh, $name, no. That couldn’t have been your fault,” Hazel assured me. She was gathering herself, piecing her own thoughts back together after whatever that was between her and Milo. “Maybe we should just speak to Baron Kamille again. Make her understand what is truly going on.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be receptive to that,” I told them.
Clearing his throat, Milo looked between us all. “Any back up plans then? Because I thought this entire namekeeper thing hinged on every Baron giving us their favor.”
When none of us responded, I felt my stomach clench. It had always been something I was aware of but suddenly, saying it out loud, made it all the more true. There was a big possibility we had already failed. <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">> “I didn’t get it,” I said, feeling my stomach churn at the admittance of failure. “The entirety of that underground area was so endless that I don’t know how I even could. The- the Night Market apparently saved me? That’s what the Baron said, at least. Doesn’t negate the fact that I’m empty-handed though.”
“No. Oh, $name, no. That couldn’t have been your fault,” Hazel assured me. She was gathering herself, piecing her own thoughts back together after whatever that was between her and Milo. “Maybe we should just speak to Baron Kamille again. Make her understand what is truly going on.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be receptive to that,” I told them.
Clearing his throat, Milo looked between us all. “Any back up plans then? Because I thought this entire namekeeper thing hinged on every Baron giving us their favor.”
When none of us responded, I felt my stomach clench. It had always been something I was aware of but suddenly, saying it out loud, made it all the more true. There was a big possibility we had already failed. <<elseif $mirror == "safe">> “I got the favor,” I told him. “Somehow. But,” I turned to the rest of them. “I can’t be going into each Baron situation that blind. I could have died down there. Gotten lost. I still don’t understand how there was conveniently a way out just as I needed it” I shuddered to think how I would be without some of Hazel’s tonics.
“I think your request for a bit more preparation is valid,” Gabriel agreed. “And perhaps we all need to take things a bit more cautiously than we have been.”
Milo snorted. “I think at this point, expecting the unexpected when it comes to $name should be the new norm.”
Gabriel hummed in a murmured response but said nothing more to it.
“Gabriel, would you like breakfast?” Hazel asked. “I made plenty.” <</if>>
Outside, the windows darkened and the fluttering of wings sounded muffled behind the glass. When Belladonna entered, it was with a flurry of darkness. Her hair was pinned high off her neck, a simple black gown draped across her form. Much more modest than I was used to seeing her. Her eyes immediately found the four of us, her blood-red heels clicking as she made her way across the floor.
“I have news,” she said. It was not like Belladonna to not conduct her pleasantries. There was an urgency in her voice that I found unsettling and the way her face looked strained was not something I was used to.
“Belladonna, are you alright?” Hazel asked, concerned. “Do you need to sit? Have some tea?”
The relief that crossed the vampire was one that shocked me more than I thought it would. “Tea would be lovely, Hazel darling.”
Hazel bustled about the breakfast table, grabbing one of the fancier teacups and filling it from a steaming kettle. Only briefly did it register that the teacup was filled with Belladonna’s favorite blend, despite Hazel adding nothing.
When Belladonna took it, she sipped it, eyes closing in a momentary breath of silence.
“Never a good sign when a vampire's hands shake,” Milo said.
Belladonna set her teacup and saucer down, clearing her throat. “When all of this started, I wrote to each of the Barons. I figured transparency was best in our efforts to meeting with them, but there were some I thought would perhaps be a bit more difficult than others. However, everything does seem to be moving at a faster clip than I had thought.”
“We were just discussing that,” Gabriel started. But Belladonna’s eyes were locked with my own.
“$name, I know you just go back from the Deep, but there is a Baron who would like to meet with you. Tonight.”
“Who?”
I watched her spine stiffen. “The Dollmaker.”
[[Why does everyone look like I’m about to walk into the bowels of hell?]]
[[We will have to reschedule. I need time to recover]]
<<if $mirror == "broken">> [[It doesn’t matter. We didn’t get Kamille’s favor]]
<<elseif $deepwounds == "true">> [[It doesn’t matter. We didn’t get Kamille’s favor]]<</if>>“Milo, leave her alone,” I told him. Hazel was shrinking before our eyes and while he was not yelling at her, he might as well have. Her eyes were flicking away, her feet carrying her a few steps away. Meanwhile, Milo was still staring at her, jaw tight. But there was something else there. A slow weight of horror that was settling against him.
I swallowed thickly at the sight of it. But when my eyes flicked back towards Hazel, she had turned away.
“Perhaps now is not the time,” Gabriel said, proverbially stepping between the two of them. Milo’s eyes fell as Hazel wrapped her arms around herself. “$name, what is the status of Baron Kamille’s favor? We should start with that.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Belladonna before getting into everything that happened?” Hazel asked, her voice small.
“Not necessary,” Gabriel said. “Somehow, I am sure Ms. Malady already knows.”
<<if $mirror == "broken">> “I didn’t get it,” I said, feeling my stomach churn at the admittance of failure. “I mean, I found what she had asked for but it was broken. For some reason that was my fault.”
“No. Oh, $name, no. That couldn’t have been your fault,” Hazel assured me. She was gathering herself, piecing her own thoughts back together after whatever that was between her and Milo. “Maybe we should just speak to Baron Kamille again. Make her understand what is truly going on.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be receptive to that,” I told them.
Clearing his throat, Milo looked between us all. “Any back up plans then? Because I thought this entire namekeeper thing hinged on every Baron giving us their favor.”
When none of us responded, I felt my stomach clench. It had always been something I was aware of but suddenly, saying it out loud, made it all the more true. There was a big possibility we had already failed. <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">> “I didn’t get it,” I said, feeling my stomach churn at the admittance of failure. “The entirety of that underground area was so endless that I don’t know how I even could. The- the Night Market apparently saved me? That’s what the Baron said, at least. Doesn’t negate the fact that I’m empty-handed though.”
“No. Oh, $name, no. That couldn’t have been your fault,” Hazel assured me. She was gathering herself, piecing her own thoughts back together after whatever that was between her and Milo. “Maybe we should just speak to Baron Kamille again. Make her understand what is truly going on.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be receptive to that,” I told them.
Clearing his throat, Milo looked between us all. “Any back up plans then? Because I thought this entire namekeeper thing hinged on every Baron giving us their favor.”
When none of us responded, I felt my stomach clench. It had always been something I was aware of but suddenly, saying it out loud, made it all the more true. There was a big possibility we had already failed. <<elseif $mirror == "safe">> “I got the favor,” I told him. “Somehow. But,” I turned to the rest of them. “I can’t be going into each Baron situation that blind. I could have died down there. Gotten lost. I still don’t understand how there was conveniently a way out just as I needed it” I shuddered to think how I would be without some of Hazel’s tonics.
“I think your request for a bit more preparation is valid,” Gabriel agreed. “And perhaps we all need to take things a bit more cautiously than we have been.”
Milo snorted. “I think at this point, expecting the unexpected when it comes to $name should be the new norm.”
Gabriel hummed in a murmured response but said nothing more to it.
“Gabriel, would you like breakfast?” Hazel asked. “I made plenty.” <</if>>
Outside, the windows darkened and the fluttering of wings sounded muffled behind the glass. When Belladonna entered, it was with a flurry of darkness. Her hair was pinned high off her neck, a simple black gown draped across her form. Much more modest than I was used to seeing her. Her eyes immediately found the four of us, her blood-red heels clicking as she made her way across the floor.
“I have news,” she said. It was not like Belladonna to not conduct her pleasantries. There was an urgency in her voice that I found unsettling and the way her face looked strained was not something I was used to.
“Belladonna, are you alright?” Hazel asked, concerned. “Do you need to sit? Have some tea?”
The relief that crossed the vampire was one that shocked me more than I thought it would. “Tea would be lovely, Hazel darling.”
Hazel bustled about the breakfast table, grabbing one of the fancier teacups and filling it from a steaming kettle. Only briefly did it register that the teacup was filled with Belladonna’s favorite blend, despite Hazel adding nothing.
When Belladonna took it, she sipped it, eyes closing in a momentary breath of silence.
“Never a good sign when a vampire's hands shake,” Milo said.
Belladonna set her teacup and saucer down, clearing her throat. “When all of this started, I wrote to each of the Barons. I figured transparency was best in our efforts to meeting with them, but there were some I thought would perhaps be a bit more difficult than others. However, everything does seem to be moving at a faster clip than I had thought.”
“We were just discussing that,” Gabriel started. But Belladonna’s eyes were locked with my own.
“$name, I know you just go back from the Deep, but there is a Baron who would like to meet with you. Tonight.”
“Who?”
I watched her spine stiffen. “The Dollmaker.”
[[Why does everyone look like I’m about to walk into the bowels of hell?]]
[[We will have to reschedule. I need time to recover]]
<<if $mirror == "broken">> [[It doesn’t matter. We didn’t get Kamille’s favor]]
<<elseif $deepwounds == "true">> [[It doesn’t matter. We didn’t get Kamille’s favor]]<</if>>Hazel’s eyes flicked away while Milo’s still laid trained on hers. I could see a weight of horror settled across him at that. It was a confirmation that now lay across his shoulders and the sight of it sent my stomach twisting into something awful.
“Maybe we should table this for now,” I suggested softly. The subject of Malcolm could wait. For now, it may have been best that it did, given how the two of them reacted the second he was brought up.
“I agree,” Gabriel said. “The status of the Barons is a far more pressing manor and one we all need to be on the same page about.” turning to me, I knew he was giving a lifeline, helping me navigate the situation into an entirely different direction. “What is the status of Baron Kamille’s favor?”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Belladonna before getting into everything that happened?” Hazel asked, her voice small.
“Not necessary,” Gabriel said. “Somehow, I am sure Ms. Malady already knows.”
<<if $mirror == "broken">> “I didn’t get it,” I said, feeling my stomach churn at the admittance of failure. “I mean, I found what she had asked for but it was broken. For some reason that was my fault.”
“No. Oh, $name, no. That couldn’t have been your fault,” Hazel assured me. She was gathering herself, piecing her own thoughts back together after whatever that was between her and Milo. “Maybe we should just speak to Baron Kamille again. Make her understand what is truly going on.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be receptive to that,” I told them.
Clearing his throat, Milo looked between us all. “Any back up plans then? Because I thought this entire namekeeper thing hinged on every Baron giving us their favor.”
When none of us responded, I felt my stomach clench. It had always been something I was aware of but suddenly, saying it out loud, made it all the more true. There was a big possibility we had already failed. <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">> “I didn’t get it,” I said, feeling my stomach churn at the admittance of failure. “The entirety of that underground area was so endless that I don’t know how I even could. The- the Night Market apparently saved me? That’s what the Baron said, at least. Doesn’t negate the fact that I’m empty-handed though.”
“No. Oh, $name, no. That couldn’t have been your fault,” Hazel assured me. She was gathering herself, piecing her own thoughts back together after whatever that was between her and Milo. “Maybe we should just speak to Baron Kamille again. Make her understand what is truly going on.”
“I don’t think she’s going to be receptive to that,” I told them.
Clearing his throat, Milo looked between us all. “Any back up plans then? Because I thought this entire namekeeper thing hinged on every Baron giving us their favor.”
When none of us responded, I felt my stomach clench. It had always been something I was aware of but suddenly, saying it out loud, made it all the more true. There was a big possibility we had already failed. <<elseif $mirror == "safe">> “I got the favor,” I told him. “Somehow. But,” I turned to the rest of them. “I can’t be going into each Baron situation that blind. I could have died down there. Gotten lost. I still don’t understand how there was conveniently a way out just as I needed it” I shuddered to think how I would be without some of Hazel’s tonics.
“I think your request for a bit more preparation is valid,” Gabriel agreed. “And perhaps we all need to take things a bit more cautiously than we have been.”
Milo snorted. “I think at this point, expecting the unexpected when it comes to $name should be the new norm.”
Gabriel hummed in a murmured response but said nothing more to it.
“Gabriel, would you like breakfast?” Hazel asked. “I made plenty.” <</if>>
Outside, the windows darkened and the fluttering of wings sounded muffled behind the glass. When Belladonna entered, it was with a flurry of darkness. Her hair was pinned high off her neck, a simple black gown draped across her form. Much more modest than I was used to seeing her. Her eyes immediately found the four of us, her blood-red heels clicking as she made her way across the floor.
“I have news,” she said. It was not like Belladonna to not conduct her pleasantries. There was an urgency in her voice that I found unsettling and the way her face looked strained was not something I was used to.
“Belladonna, are you alright?” Hazel asked, concerned. “Do you need to sit? Have some tea?”
The relief that crossed the vampire was one that shocked me more than I thought it would. “Tea would be lovely, Hazel darling.”
Hazel bustled about the breakfast table, grabbing one of the fancier teacups and filling it from a steaming kettle. Only briefly did it register that the teacup was filled with Belladonna’s favorite blend, despite Hazel adding nothing.
When Belladonna took it, she sipped it, eyes closing in a momentary breath of silence.
“Never a good sign when a vampire's hands shake,” Milo said.
Belladonna set her teacup and saucer down, clearing her throat. “When all of this started, I wrote to each of the Barons. I figured transparency was best in our efforts to meeting with them, but there were some I thought would perhaps be a bit more difficult than others. However, everything does seem to be moving at a faster clip than I had thought.”
“We were just discussing that,” Gabriel started. But Belladonna’s eyes were locked with my own.
“$name, I know you just go back from the Deep, but there is a Baron who would like to meet with you. Tonight.”
“Who?”
I watched her spine stiffen. “The Dollmaker.”
[[Why does everyone look like I’m about to walk into the bowels of hell?]]
[[We will have to reschedule. I need time to recover]]
<<if $mirror == "broken">> [[It doesn’t matter. We didn’t get Kamille’s favor]]
<<elseif $deepwounds == "true">> [[It doesn’t matter. We didn’t get Kamille’s favor]]<</if>>
There was never elation over one of my meetings with the Barons. Or, at least there hadn’t been with the last two that I had met. But I couldn’t say that any of them had greeted the situation with such naked fear in their eyes.
“Why does everyone look like I’m about to walk into the bowels of hell?” I tried to make light of it. They all four looked sick. As if they were ready to run for the hills by mere proximity of the name.
Milo shook his head, being the first to speak. “You all knew we would have to deal with him eventually when we started down this path,” he muttered. Though, even Milo looked surprised that we had gotten to this point.
“Elias,” Gabriel said. “His name is Elias. He rules over a district on the upper side of the eternal staircase. He values propriety over anything else and is often times viewed as a bit of a difficult man to commune with.”
“Because he’s two screws loose and a bag of lost marbles,” Milo said. Turning to me, he shook his head, dirty blond hair hanging limp around his face. “The Dollmaker is exactly how he sounds. He likes perfection. He likes things to be clean and pretty. And if you are not either of those things, he will make you into one.”
I felt a shudder roll down my spine. Perfection. Something the night Market was decidedly not.
Belladonna cleared her throat. “He insinuated in his letter that he is more than willing to give us the favor that we need almost immediately.”
“Well that’s something,” Hazel said. “We could get in and out. He’s not prone to hurting anyone that is just visiting. From what I understand he tries to sell his way of life more than forces the perfection upon you.”
“Yeah,” Milo snorted. “and he brainwashes you into thinking that your life is better under the umbrella of perfection. You really think a choice is given in all that?”
Belladonna looked as if she were barely keeping herself in check as she ignored Milo’s protests. Yet, I couldn’t help but recall how Milo had been the one who said we shouldn’t be going down to the Deep. He had been right. Was he right about this as well?
“He wishes to have dinner with you, $name,” Belladonna continued. “He expressed how he finds what we are doing as– intriguing. But he does have one condition.” Slowly, she turned to Gabriel. “He wishes for you to join the two of them for this evening's meal.”
Gabriel’s jaw twitched, his eyes darkening at the mention of it. I saw how his hand curled at his side, and his expression go blank. He stared just over our heads towards the back wall.
“Gabriel,” Belladonna shook her head, her voice softening. “I’ll find another way. I’ll–”
“No. It is fine.”
“I could write him. Say that’s non-negotiable. I am sure I have something he wants. Information, perhaps. New recruits. I’ll let him know that you couldn’t possibly be dragged away tonight and–”
“It is fine, Belladonna.” It came out a harsh clip that had her snapping her mouth shut. The sound of it echoed through the room and not even the wisps outside dared to break the silence. “If you’ll excuse me,” Gabriel said tightly.
He left through the back door, leaving the rest of us sitting. Belladonna had her head bowed, hands wringing in her lap. “Fuck,” she whispered. The expletive startled me. “I shouldn’t have even told him. I knew I should have just taken care of it myself.”
[[Does he know this Baron?]]
[[How much danger am I in?]]
[[Belladonna, you look concerned]]I shook my head, aware of the tension in the room but finding that I couldn’t bring myself to care. “No,” I said. “I just got back. I still don’t feel like I’ve slept. My wounds have just healed. There’s no way I can meet with another Baron tonight.”
“I am afraid that is not a choice we are being given,” Belladonna said, resigned.
“I don’t care,” I told her. “I’m not doing it.”
“But, $name,” Hazel started softly. “The Baron’s favor…”
“We walked into the last Baron blind and unprepared. I don’t want to make the same mistake again. We will just reschedule.” When I looked between the four of them, it was clear that none of them knew what to do. It wasn’t so much that they disagreed with my sentiment, but that they didn’t know what other option they could give me.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I took a deep breath, trying to quell the slight tendrils of anger that were weaving through me. Not even twenty-four hours later and we were back to the very start of a situation I promised we would not run head first towards.
“Who even is this Dollmaker?” I asked, feeling myself irritated that I was even entertaining this.
“Elias,” Gabriel said. “His name is Elias. He rules over a district on the upper side of the eternal staircase. He values propriety over anything else and is often times viewed as a bit of a difficult man to commune with.”
“Because he’s two screws loose and a bag of lost marbles,” Milo said. Turning to me, he shook his head, dirty blond hair hanging limp around his face. “The Dollmaker is exactly how he sounds. He likes perfection. He likes things to be clean and pretty. And if you are not either of those things, he will make you into one.”
I felt a shudder roll down my spine. Perfection. Something the night Market was decidedly not.
Belladonna cleared her throat. “He insinuated in his letter that he is more than willing to give us the favor that we need almost immediately.”
“Well that’s something,” Hazel said. “We could get in and out. He’s not prone to hurting anyone that is just visiting. From what I understand he tries to sell his way of life more than forces the perfection upon you.”
“Yeah,” Milo snorted. “and he brainwashes you into thinking that your life is better under the umbrella of perfection. You really think a choice is given in all that?”
Belladonna looked as if she were barely keeping herself in check as she ignored Milo’s protests. Yet, I couldn’t help but recall how Milo had been the one who said we shouldn’t be going down to the Deep. He had been right. Was he right about this as well?
“He wishes to have dinner with you, $name,” Belladonna continued. “He expressed how he finds what we are doing as– intriguing. But he does have one condition.” Slowly, she turned to Gabriel. “He wishes for you to join the two of them for this evening's meal.”
Gabriel’s jaw twitched, his eyes darkening at the mention of it. I saw how his hand curled at his side, and his expression go blank. He stared just over our heads towards the back wall.
“Gabriel,” Belladonna shook her head, her voice softening. “I’ll find another way. I’ll–”
“No. It is fine.”
“I could write him. Say that’s non-negotiable. I am sure I have something he wants. Information, perhaps. New recruits. I’ll let him know that you couldn’t possibly be dragged away tonight and–”
“It is fine, Belladonna.” It came out a harsh clip that had her snapping her mouth shut. The sound of it echoed through the room and not even the wisps outside dared to break the silence. “If you’ll excuse me,” Gabriel said tightly.
He left through the back door, leaving the rest of us sitting. Belladonna had her head bowed, hands wringing in her lap. “Fuck,” she whispered. The expletive startled me. “I shouldn’t have even told him. I knew I should have just taken care of it myself.”
[[Does he know this Baron?]]
[[How much danger am I in?]]
[[Belladonna, you look concerned]]The tension in the room jumped up several notches at the mention of his name. It didn’t sound pleasant but at the same time, I was starting to wonder if it even mattered. Like Milo had said. Our plan hinged on gaining the Barons favors and I had already failed.
“I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor,” I told Belladonna. Her eyes fell shut at the news but she composed herself quickly. “Should I even be going?”
“Stay the course,” she said. “We can sort out Kamille later. No one ever said this would be easy and it may take several attempts. We have merely been lucky thus far and have grown lax.”
“I mean,” Milo said. “Here’s the thing. If ?they already struggled with getting the Baron of the Deeps favor, you really think the Dollmaker is going to be any easier?”
I frowned, looking between the four of them. “Who even is this Dollmaker?”
“Elias,” Gabriel said. “His name is Elias. He rules over a district on the upper side of the eternal staircase. He values propriety over anything else and is often times viewed as a bit of a difficult man to commune with.”
“Because he’s two screws loose and a bag of lost marbles,” Milo said. Turning to me, he shook his head, dirty blond hair hanging limp around his face. “The Dollmaker is exactly how he sounds. He likes perfection. He likes things to be clean and pretty. And if you are not either of those things, he will make you into one.”
I felt a shudder roll down my spine. Perfection. Something the night Market was decidedly not.
Belladonna cleared her throat. “He insinuated in his letter that he is more than willing to give us the favor that we need almost immediately.”
“Well that’s something,” Hazel said. “We could get in and out. He’s not prone to hurting anyone that is just visiting. From what I understand he tries to sell his way of life more than forces the perfection upon you.”
“Yeah,” Milo snorted. “and he brainwashes you into thinking that your life is better under the umbrella of perfection. You really think a choice is given in all that?”
Belladonna looked as if she were barely keeping herself in check as she ignored Milo’s protests. Yet, I couldn’t help but recall how Milo had been the one who said we shouldn’t be going down to the Deep. He had been right. Was he right about this as well?
“He wishes to have dinner with you, $name,” Belladonna continued. “He expressed how he finds what we are doing as– intriguing. But he does have one condition.” Slowly, she turned to Gabriel. “He wishes for you to join the two of them for this evening's meal.”
Gabriel’s jaw twitched, his eyes darkening at the mention of it. I saw how his hand curled at his side, and his expression go blank. He stared just over our heads towards the back wall.
“Gabriel,” Belladonna shook her head, her voice softening. “I’ll find another way. I’ll–”
“No. It is fine.”
“I could write him. Say that’s non-negotiable. I am sure I have something he wants. Information, perhaps. New recruits. I’ll let him know that you couldn’t possibly be dragged away tonight and–”
“It is fine, Belladonna.” It came out a harsh clip that had her snapping her mouth shut. The sound of it echoed through the room and not even the wisps outside dared to break the silence. “If you’ll excuse me,” Gabriel said tightly.
He left through the back door, leaving the rest of us sitting. Belladonna had her head bowed, hands wringing in her lap. “Fuck,” she whispered. The expletive startled me. “I shouldn’t have even told him. I knew I should have just taken care of it myself.”
[[Does he know this Baron?]]
[[How much danger am I in?]]
[[Belladonna, you look concerned]]“Does he know this Baron?”
“Elias was – is,” Belladonna huffed out a breath, pausing to gather her words. “Elias was one of the first people Gabriel met within the market. He is an unofficial father of sorts. Helped raise him within the city and made sure that despite the fall, Gabriel did not succumb to the madness.”
“Oh fuck,” Milo groaned. “I didn’t know that.”
“Poor Gabriel,” Hazel sighed.
“The madness?” I asked.
“Celestial’s are not meant to live outside the Knowing,” Belladonna explained. “A fun little caveat that those beings have in order to keep everyone under control. When a celestial is cast out, it is done with the intention that they will not survive. They succumb to the horrors they are not supposed to be privy to and lose their minds to the process.”
My eyes ticked towards where Gabriel had disappeared. “But he has not?”
“He has been lucky,” Belladonna said diplomatically. “Luck that came only because he met Elias and one other.”
“But something happened, I take it.” It was clear there was not a happy ending to whatever this story was.
“I wouldn’t presume to tell that tale,” Belladonna said. “It’s–” her eyes ticked towards the door Gabriel had disappeared within. “It’s personal and should be his choice to share. Suffice to say, however, this will be no easy task for him. Elias and him do not see eye to eye any longer and Gabriel– well. No matter.” Rising, she looked as if she were going to go after him but stopped herself.
Hazel was the first to do something about the awkward silence. She had a knack for being able to read the room and see the cracks that needed immediately filled. “You said you have reached out to all the Barons. Have any others contacted you?”
A lock of red hair fell from the updo Belladonna had it in, slashing across her pale face and falling against her neck like an open wound. “Taliesin Hynsin and the Baron of the Fates have refuted my efforts,” she said slowly. “Mainly because I do not know how to contact the Baron of the Fates. And as for Hynsin, he is far more concerned about courtly balls than answering any sort of correspondence.”
“What is he the Baron of?” I hadn’t heard of this Baron yet. Admittedly, I had been operating thus far on a need to know basis.
“Gems,” Belladonna said.
“And the others?” I asked.
“The Iron Baron seems to be somewhat amenable to meeting with us, though I have yet to hear when. And the Baron of the Mists is being… difficult.”
“Bitch,” Milo muttered.
Belladonna looked at him with a tight smile. “For once, dear Next, I would agree with you.” Grabbing at her tea, she leaned back into the soft cushions, sipping at it. With the cold, her cheeks somehow looked even paler than normal.
“I think she is someone we can all agree needs to be gutted,” Milo said gruesomely. Though, I noticed Hazel didn’t even flinch. “What if we just went and killed her. Stole her power.” There was entirely too much eagerness in his tone for what was normal, nor did Hazel even admonish him for saying such a thing.
“Then, dear Milo,” Belladonna said patiently. Though I watched the way her eyes ticked curiously over the rim of her cup. “You become a Baron yourself. And I think you and I both know that’s not something we should entertain.”
Hazel began pouring everyone their own mugs of tea as the room dropped a few more degrees. “We will need to be careful when we do meet with her,” she said. “Given that she tricked us years ago, killed Malcolm, I doubt she’s going to treat any meeting with us without suspicion.”
“That is her modus operandi.” When Belladonna sipped her tea next, there was a tinge of bitterness to her actions. “When the time comes I will come with you to that meeting, $name. Kavati is very much someone that will sooner screw you over before doing anything out of the goodness of her heart. I’ll be by your side, however, to curb that impulse of hers. Besides, she owes me.”
[[Next|Chapter Eight 1]]
The fire crackled in the hearth, a pop and hiss that would have been comforting during this cool morning. Instead, it punctuated the silence in the room.
“How much danger am I in?” I asked bluntly.
“None,” Belladonna assured. “Not with Gabriel there. Elias will be so thrilled to see him that he would not make a move towards you.”
When she didn’t lift her head to speak to me though, I felt a shiver roll through my spine. Often, I suspected that Belladonna was able to manipulate words to her own truth, but not even here was she able to spin them in any sort of assurance. In the end, it was Milo that called her on it.
“While that may be Gabe’s intention, you and I both know that that fucker is sick and twisted,” he said.
Belladonna’s lips thinned as she held back her words. “Yes, well, if you have another option for this even, Milo, I would love to hear it. Otherwise, you are speaking once more without purpose.”
“Hey,” he said. “Don’t take this shitty situation out on me.”
For once, I watched as Belladonna winced. “You’re right,” she said, swallowing her pride and looking at him sincerely. “I’m sorry, Milo.” He looked startled at her apology but nodded his head in acceptance.
“I take it this Baron and Gabriel know each other?” I asked.
“Elias helped Gabriel when he first came to the market. Before he was a Baron.” There was a finality to her sentence. One that brooked absolutely no more conversation on the matter. Not from her at least.
Hazel was the first to do something about the awkward silence. She had a knack for being able to read the room and see the cracks that needed immediately filled. “You said you have reached out to all the Barons. Have any others contacted you?”
A lock of red hair fell from the updo Belladonna had it in, slashing across her pale face and falling against her neck like an open wound. “Taliesin Hynsin and the Baron of the Fates have refuted my efforts,” she said slowly. “Mainly because I do not know how to contact the Baron of the Fates. And as for Hynsin, he is far more concerned about courtly balls than answering any sort of correspondence.”
“What is he the Baron of?” I hadn’t heard of this Baron yet. Admittedly, I had been operating thus far on a need to know basis.
“Gems,” Belladonna said.
“And the others?” I asked.
“The Iron Baron seems to be somewhat amenable to meeting with us, though I have yet to hear when. And the Baron of the Mists is being… difficult.”
“Bitch,” Milo muttered.
Belladonna looked at him with a tight smile. “For once, dear Next, I would agree with you.” Grabbing at her tea, she leaned back into the soft cushions, sipping at it. With the cold, her cheeks somehow looked even paler than normal.
“I think she is someone we can all agree needs to be gutted,” Milo said gruesomely. Though, I noticed Hazel didn’t even flinch. “What if we just went and killed her. Stole her power.” There was entirely too much eagerness in his tone for what was normal, nor did Hazel even admonish him for saying such a thing.
“Then, dear Milo,” Belladonna said patiently. Though I watched the way her eyes ticked curiously over the rim of her cup. “You become a Baron yourself. And I think you and I both know that’s not something we should entertain.”
Hazel began pouring everyone their own mugs of tea as the room dropped a few more degrees. “We will need to be careful when we do meet with her,” she said. “Given that she tricked us years ago, killed Malcolm, I doubt she’s going to treat any meeting with us without suspicion.”
“That is her modus operandi.” When Belladonna sipped her tea next, there was a tinge of bitterness to her actions. “When the time comes I will come with you to that meeting, $name. Kavati is very much someone that will sooner screw you over before doing anything out of the goodness of her heart. I’ll be by your side, however, to curb that impulse of hers. Besides, she owes me.”
[[Next|Chapter Eight 1]]
The fire crackled in the hearth, a pop and hiss that would have been comforting during this cool morning. Instead, it punctuated the silence in the room.
“Belladonna,” I started. “You look concerned.” It went without saying that she never looked concerned. And as the silence stretched on and she said nothing in the way of correcting me, I felt another burst of fear roll across my skin.
“I knew a meeting with Elias was inevitable,” she stated with a whisper, “I had merely hoped that we would have some sort of plan in place to deal with him. Though, I do not know why I’m surprised. He’s never been one to wait around. Especially when it involves Gabriel.”
“So they know each other,” I stated.
“Elias helped Gabriel when he first came to the market. Before he was a Baron.” There was a finality to her sentence. One that brooked absolutely no more conversation on the matter. Not from her at least.
Hazel was the first to do something about the awkward silence. She had a knack for being able to read the room and see the cracks that needed immediately filled. “You said you have reached out to all the Barons. Have any others contacted you?”
A lock of red hair fell from the updo Belladonna had it in, slashing across her pale face and falling against her neck like an open wound. “Taliesin Hynsin and the Baron of the Fates have refuted my efforts,” she said slowly. “Mainly because I do not know how to contact the Baron of the Fates. And as for Hynsin, he is far more concerned about courtly balls than answering any sort of correspondence.”
“What is he the Baron of?” I hadn’t heard of this Baron yet. Admittedly, I had been operating thus far on a need to know basis.
“Gems,” Belladonna said.
“And the others?” I asked.
“The Iron Baron seems to be somewhat amenable to meeting with us, though I have yet to hear when. And the Baron of the Mists is being… difficult.”
“Bitch,” Milo muttered.
Belladonna looked at him with a tight smile. “For once, dear Next, I would agree with you.” Grabbing at her tea, she leaned back into the soft cushions, sipping at it. With the cold, her cheeks somehow looked even paler than normal.
“I think she is someone we can all agree needs to be gutted,” Milo said gruesomely. Though, I noticed Hazel didn’t even flinch. “What if we just went and killed her. Stole her power.” There was entirely too much eagerness in his tone for what was normal, nor did Hazel even admonish him for saying such a thing.
“Then, dear Milo,” Belladonna said patiently. Though I watched the way her eyes ticked curiously over the rim of her cup. “You become a Baron yourself. And I think you and I both know that’s not something we should entertain.”
Hazel began pouring everyone their own mugs of tea as the room dropped a few more degrees. “We will need to be careful when we do meet with her,” she said. “Given that she tricked us years ago, killed Malcolm, I doubt she’s going to treat any meeting with us without suspicion.”
“That is her modus operandi.” When Belladonna sipped her tea next, there was a tinge of bitterness to her actions. “When the time comes I will come with you to that meeting, $name. Kavati is very much someone that will sooner screw you over before doing anything out of the goodness of her heart. I’ll be by your side, however, to curb that impulse of hers. Besides, she owes me.”
[[Next|Chapter Eight 1]]
Upon setting everyone's tea down, Hazel began to serve up steaming bowls of breakfast stew. It had at least warmed the room a fraction while it had been bubbling in the cauldron and smelled of soft comforts on what was quickly shaping up to be a stressful morning.
“None for me sweetling,” Belladonna said. “I just ate.” Hazel nodded her head, but her nose wrinkled a bit at the implication. When we had all settled, I couldn’t help but notice how Gabriel had yet to come back in.
<<if $gabrielro =="true">>My eyes ticked furtively to the door, wondering if he had left the garden entirely. Or if he was simply sitting out there on his own. Everything in me said I should go to him, but Belladonna’s words kept me pinned down, along with Hazel shoved a steaming bowl of stew right under my nose.<</if>>
“Dear heart, I believe it is high time you begin to understand a few of the overarching rules of the Barons. They may come in handy while dealing with them. Or at the very least, they may help you navigate the conversations in a less questioning matter.” The small bronze teaspoon Belladonna held clicked against the edge of her teacup. I had yet to see Hazel refresh her tea and yet somehow the cup kept filling.
“First off, the Barons are not allowed to have contact with each other outside their monthly meeting. While I am almost certain we have told you this before, it might bear repeating given that we are about to enter negotiations with Elias. While their contact is forbidden, it is quite common, if they need to have dealings with one another, to send runners to do so. An antiquated way of messaging that they all abide by so as not to trace magical signatures back to one another. As for the magic, each of them have it. An abundance of it, one would argue. Whether it is innate to them like the Baron of the Books, or something they have amassed like Lady Kamille, isn’t really discussed. But they do have an amount and type of magic that certainly could topple this world if they so desired. Hence, them not allowed to work together.”
“It’s almost like the dumb rules are in place just to keep the megalomaniacs under control,” Milo said. “Charming.” He was shoveling his stew into his mouth, his third bowl from what I could tell, and pretending not to listen. Though, the fact that he hadn’t left yet was telling all on its own.
“Due to these Barons not really having a lot of contact with each other, it is expressly forbidden for a Baron to fall in love with another Baron.”
At that, I frowned. I got the other rule. It actually felt like a safety measure that I could get behind, in fact, but this one seemed a tad too specific to make a generalized rule for the betterment of society. “Seems a bit odd. You can’t really help who you fall in love with.”
“You cannot,” she agreed. “It’s just a nicer way of saying ‘don’t shack up with each other’. Fraternization in the workplace is frowned upon with the likes of them.”
“And I’m assuming that rule was put in place for a reason?” I asked.
“It was,” she said with a slow sip of her tea. But she offered nothing more in the way of explanation. “Now, let's see. The only other thing is of course the rule that I am sure everyone in this room is acutely aware of. Power is only transferred through the death of a Baron. The one who kills them is the one who receives the title and thus becomes one of the nine of the market.”
[[Who even put these rules together]]
[[So every Baron I met has blood on their hands]]
[[Except in the case of the current Gatekeeper]]
<<set $dollmaker to "true">>“I don’t understand. Who even put these rules together to begin with? Is this something all the Barons sit down and discuss or is there some strange little welcome packet you receive upon becoming a Baron that labels out all the dos and don’ts.”
Next to me, Milo snorted into his stew.
Belladonna ignored him. “The rules have been around for so long, sweetling that it is hard to tell. But they are there and they are very real and I doubt at this point in time, many wish to test them. Not when they have all the other perks that come with being a Baron.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I leaned back in my seat. “Alright, then this Dollmaker. Am I walking into something unknown like I was with Baron Kamille or is this going to be straight forward given who he is to Gabriel.”
“Unfortunately, with Elias, you do not know what you are going to get. He very well could be in a good mood tonight since he is seeing Gabriel again. Or, he could be in one of his downward spirals.”
“And if he is?”
“Then may the Knowing help you.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>Milo shook his head. “I don’t like this. Send Gabriel. $name doesn’t need to go to this meeting. It is far too dangerous.” His eyes ticked to me. “Besides, if you haven’t smelled it yet, ?they bled pretty thoroughly recently.”
“How hurt?” Belladonna sniffed the air. “I do not smell blood.”
“Hazel healed me with tonics,” I explained. That, and Milo was exaggerating.
“No internal bleeding at least. People that have internal bleeding smell slightly sour. Keeps us vampires from snacking on you. And you smell positively delectable.”<</if>>
“We’re getting off track. $name shouldn’t go. Gabriel can deal with this on his own.”
Hazel shuffled her feet. “But if we are putting $name out there as the person who is supposed be the namekeeper, shouldn’t ?they be the one to gather the favors?”
“Dear Hazel has a point there, Milo,” Belladonna said with a sigh. “$name is the one who is going to have to obtain the favors. They will have to be willingly given to ?them. Gabriel can help facilitate the meeting, just as I can when it comes to Kavati. But we cannot be the one to receive these gifts.” <<if $hazelro == "true">> Hazel was standing nervously by the hearth, biting at the skin of her thumb. “I’m not sure how comfortable I feel about sending $name to the Dollmaker. Especially so soon after the Deep.”
I smiled warmly at her. I had wanted nothing more than to stay in the comfort of our upstairs apartment together. In the safe bubble she had created. Since setting foot downstairs again, everything had begun to spiral.
“As I have previously stated,” Belladonna said gently. “If there is another way, I would gladly listen to it. But the rules of the namekeeper are pretty clear. $name will have to be the one to receive the favor physically. None of us can.”<</if>>
“These rules are bullshit,” Milo said, staring at her. “You know they are.”
“Yes. Well. I do not believe the Night Market cares whether these arbitrary rules make sense. Only that they are being followed.”
“And what happens if they aren’t?” I asked. I looked at each of them in turn but no one seemed to have an answer for me. “Has anyone tried to break them?” I couldn’t imagine it. Someone, somewhere, had to have pushed back. It was not within the nature of an individual to just blindly follow what they were told. Not everyone, at least.
“I’m afraid that is just something we do not know,” Belladonna said quietly. “Access to a Baron is not something that is lightly done. And while I did have it for a time…” she trailed off. “I will admit it was a fault. I should have been gathering information. I was too angry for the foresight though.”
Hazel nodded. “And Milo and I didn’t even know about Malcolm. He kept everything as secret as possible, so we wouldn’t be used as a target for anything.”
“And I bet you anything, given Gabe’s position as a Warden, the last thing he is doing is going up to his absentee dad and looking really close at his dealings.” Leaning back in his chair, he shook his head. “Fuck.”
“Fuck indeed,” Belladonna said. Rising, she tucked the stray strand of hair behind her ears. “If you will excuse me, I will be going to go check on our Warden. See how he would like to handle this situation we are all about to enter into.”
[[Stay with Hazel and Milo]]
[[Follow Belladonna and Gabriel]]“So each and every Baron I am dealing with has blood on their hands.”
“Far more than you probably are aware of. Yes.” Belladonna smiled primly. “Now I am sure that there have been accidental transfers of power. One Baron accidentally being killed for this and that but it is not common. And it is doubtful that these so called ‘accidental’ Barons are going to last long in their role. It takes great strength and a cunning nature to hold your position of Baronhood.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I leaned back in my seat. “Alright, then this Dollmaker. Am I walking into something unknown like I was with Baron Kamille or is this going to be straight forward given who he is to Gabriel.”
“Unfortunately, with Elias, you do not know what you are going to get. He very well could be in a good mood tonight since he is seeing Gabriel again. Or, he could be in one of his downward spirals.”
“And if he is?”
“Then may the Knowing help you.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>Milo shook his head. “I don’t like this. Send Gabriel. $name doesn’t need to go to this meeting. It is far too dangerous.” His eyes ticked to me. “Besides, if you haven’t smelled it yet, ?they bled pretty thoroughly recently.”
“How hurt?” Belladonna sniffed the air. “I do not smell blood.”
“Hazel healed me with tonics,” I explained. That, and Milo was exaggerating.
“No internal bleeding at least. People that have internal bleeding smell slightly sour. Keeps us vampires from snacking on you. And you smell positively delectable.”<</if>>
“We’re getting off track. $name shouldn’t go. Gabriel can deal with this on his own.”
Hazel shuffled her feet. “But if we are putting $name out there as the person who is supposed be the namekeeper, shouldn’t ?they be the one to gather the favors?”
“Dear Hazel has a point there, Milo,” Belladonna said with a sigh. “$name is the one who is going to have to obtain the favors. They will have to be willingly given to ?them. Gabriel can help facilitate the meeting, just as I can when it comes to Kavati. But we cannot be the one to receive these gifts.” <<if $hazelro == "true">> Hazel was standing nervously by the hearth, biting at the skin of her thumb. “I’m not sure how comfortable I feel about sending $name to the Dollmaker. Especially so soon after the Deep.”
I smiled warmly at her. I had wanted nothing more than to stay in the comfort of our upstairs apartment together. In the safe bubble she had created. Since setting foot downstairs again, everything had begun to spiral.
“As I have previously stated,” Belladonna said gently. “If there is another way, I would gladly listen to it. But the rules of the namekeeper are pretty clear. $name will have to be the one to receive the favor physically. None of us can.”<</if>>
“These rules are bullshit,” Milo said, staring at her. “You know they are.”
“Yes. Well. I do not believe the Night Market cares whether these arbitrary rules make sense. Only that they are being followed.”
“And what happens if they aren’t?” I asked. I looked at each of them in turn but no one seemed to have an answer for me. “Has anyone tried to break them?” I couldn’t imagine it. Someone, somewhere, had to have pushed back. It was not within the nature of an individual to just blindly follow what they were told. Not everyone, at least.
“I’m afraid that is just something we do not know,” Belladonna said quietly. “Access to a Baron is not something that is lightly done. And while I did have it for a time…” she trailed off. “I will admit it was a fault. I should have been gathering information. I was too angry for the foresight though.”
Hazel nodded. “And Milo and I didn’t even know about Malcolm. He kept everything as secret as possible, so we wouldn’t be used as a target for anything.”
“And I bet you anything, given Gabe’s position as a Warden, the last thing he is doing is going up to his absentee dad and looking really close at his dealings.” Leaning back in his chair, he shook his head. “Fuck.”
“Fuck indeed,” Belladonna said. Rising, she tucked the stray strand of hair behind her ears. “If you will excuse me, I will be going to go check on our Warden. See how he would like to handle this situation we are all about to enter into.”
[[Stay with Hazel and Milo]]
[[Follow Belladonna and Gabriel]]“Except in the case of whoever the current Gatekeeper is,” I said, already knowing that the Baron of the Mists didn’t get extra power just for delivering the final blow.
“About that,” she said, eyes lighting up with curiosity. “I have been considering that situation for quite some time. While it makes sense that the power never went to Kavatti, it did have to go somewhere. Logically, I would say it would be with the one who was with him when he died. The closest person to him when he took his last breath.”
Milo looked at her. “That would be me,” he said.
“Would it?”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating Belladonna, but if I could magically open doors, you really think I would be sitting back, doing the entire Baron song and dance with all of you? I’d shut the gates completely to keep this world from tearing in two.”
Belladonna sipped her tea. “Too bad you didn’t gain his power then.”
“Yeah,” he said, voice choked. “Too bad.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I leaned back in my seat. “Alright, then this Dollmaker. Am I walking into something unknown like I was with Baron Kamille or is this going to be straight forward given who he is to Gabriel.”
“Unfortunately, with Elias, you do not know what you are going to get. He very well could be in a good mood tonight since he is seeing Gabriel again. Or, he could be in one of his downward spirals.”
“And if he is?”
“Then may the Knowing help you.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>Milo shook his head. “I don’t like this. Send Gabriel. $name doesn’t need to go to this meeting. It is far too dangerous.” His eyes ticked to me. “Besides, if you haven’t smelled it yet, ?they bled pretty thoroughly recently.”
“How hurt?” Belladonna sniffed the air. “I do not smell blood.”
“Hazel healed me with tonics,” I explained. That, and Milo was exaggerating.
“No internal bleeding at least. People that have internal bleeding smell slightly sour. Keeps us vampires from snacking on you. And you smell positively delectable.”<</if>>
“We’re getting off track. $name shouldn’t go. Gabriel can deal with this on his own.”
Hazel shuffled her feet. “But if we are putting $name out there as the person who is supposed be the namekeeper, shouldn’t ?they be the one to gather the favors?”
“Dear Hazel has a point there, Milo,” Belladonna said with a sigh. “$name is the one who is going to have to obtain the favors. They will have to be willingly given to ?them. Gabriel can help facilitate the meeting, just as I can when it comes to Kavati. But we cannot be the one to receive these gifts.” <<if $hazelro == "true">> Hazel was standing nervously by the hearth, biting at the skin of her thumb. “I’m not sure how comfortable I feel about sending $name to the Dollmaker. Especially so soon after the Deep.”
I smiled warmly at her. I had wanted nothing more than to stay in the comfort of our upstairs apartment together. In the safe bubble she had created. Since setting foot downstairs again, everything had begun to spiral.
“As I have previously stated,” Belladonna said gently. “If there is another way, I would gladly listen to it. But the rules of the namekeeper are pretty clear. $name will have to be the one to receive the favor physically. None of us can.”<</if>>
“These rules are bullshit,” Milo said, staring at her. “You know they are.”
“Yes. Well. I do not believe the Night Market cares whether these arbitrary rules make sense. Only that they are being followed.”
“And what happens if they aren’t?” I asked. I looked at each of them in turn but no one seemed to have an answer for me. “Has anyone tried to break them?” I couldn’t imagine it. Someone, somewhere, had to have pushed back. It was not within the nature of an individual to just blindly follow what they were told. Not everyone, at least.
“I’m afraid that is just something we do not know,” Belladonna said quietly. “Access to a Baron is not something that is lightly done. And while I did have it for a time…” she trailed off. “I will admit it was a fault. I should have been gathering information. I was too angry for the foresight though.”
Hazel nodded. “And Milo and I didn’t even know about Malcolm. He kept everything as secret as possible, so we wouldn’t be used as a target for anything.”
“And I bet you anything, given Gabe’s position as a Warden, the last thing he is doing is going up to his absentee dad and looking really close at his dealings.” Leaning back in his chair, he shook his head. “Fuck.”
“Fuck indeed,” Belladonna said. Rising, she tucked the stray strand of hair behind her ears. “If you will excuse me, I will be going to go check on our Warden. See how he would like to handle this situation we are all about to enter into.”
[[Stay with Hazel and Milo]]
[[Follow Belladonna and Gabriel]]
The door fell shut with a resounding click and for a moment, the three of us were quiet. There was a part of me that was listening in for the inevitable argument. While the other part was oddly curious about what it was those two even had to say to each other. Or why.
“Always a good time with those two,” Milo muttered, continuing to eat some of his stew. From his side, Hazel sighed.
“Leave them alone, Milo. I’m sure this isn’t the most comfortable situation for them to be in but they really are trying.”
“Are they?” he laughed.
“I think they are. I mean, both of them are high-powered people within the market. They could send anyone in their proxy but they are choosing to show up here and work together. That really does say something. We’ll just have to excuse them if they get a bit snippy.”
When Hazel began gathering the bowls, I could see something more on her face. Maybe she was trying to convince herself, or maybe she was distracting Milo from whatever their earlier moment had been. Without a doubt, she was about to disappear into the back for a bit, letting the dust settle out here in the lobby. I supposed we really should open for work too. We were closing down the apothecary more and more as of late to deal with the Barons.
But Milo, was not done.
“Hazel.” His tone dropped a near octave as he stared down into his empty bowl. Hazel froze not too far from us. “Come sit down.”
She glanced nervously at him and then back at me. I stood still though, shaking my head to try and let her know that I didn’t have any part in what Milo was about to say. This was not a planned intervention at least.
When Hazel sat down across from him, setting the bowls aside, a long and uncomfortable silence pressed between them. Milo was gathering his own words, hands clasped tightly together as he hunched forward, resting his forearms on his bent knees. When he tipped his head upwards, I startled. The sheer allegation he leveled towards her was uncomfortable at best.
“What happened to the wildlife, Hazel?” he asked again, words barely a whisper.
“Milo, just leave it alone. Please. It doesn’t involve you.”
“No. You have wanted me to give a shit about Malcolm coming back for the last decade. So here I am. I’m giving a shit.”
When her head snapped up, I watched as her eyes flashed black. “Not in the right way.”
He raised a brow towards her, sitting back in his seat. “Wasn’t aware there was a right or wrong way to this one. Kind of just thought concern for your family in general was the way to go.”
“Concern?” she laughed. “Malcolm died and you ran. Don’t pretend like you’re concerned.”
[[Listen to the two of them]]
[[Maybe this isn’t the time to do this]]It didn’t take me long to stand with the intention of following them. It was Hazel who questioned it, stepping forward hesitantly as if to stop me. “Maybe you should give them a minute.”
“Those two can barely say two kind words to each other,” I pointed out. That, and Gabriel had been outside for quite some time. It didn’t sit right with me.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>“Did you two start something last night?”
I paused. “Not in the way you think.” We had slept near each other. Shared a few tender moments and had something warm to drink when the cold threatened to consume us both. But the intention was there. And it showed on my face.
Milo let out a low whistle.
“I’m not judging,” Hazel said quickly. “I just think… well…” her eyes ticked nervously towards the door.<</if>> “I worry how those two are going to be in the upcoming days. This is the most they have worked together since she promoted him to Warden.”
“What?” Milo did a double take. “Belladonna promoted him to Warden?”
I looked at Hazel evenly. “What do you know?”
“I know nothing,” she said quickly. “Only rumors. That’s all. Brief, terrible rumors that were circling at the time and oh my gosh would you look at that? Better go get some more wood from the storage. Fire’s about to go out on the hearth.”
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>Milo laughed a little as Hazel scurried away. “Coward,” he called out after her. Then, to me. “Go. Snuggle your man or whatever it is that young love does.”
“You’re not that old, Milo.”
“Eh? What was that you said youngin’? Can’t hear you…” <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> Milo laughed a little as Hazel scurried away. “Coward,” he called out after her. Then, to me. “Go. Snuggle your woman.”
“I don’t think Belladonna is exactly a snuggler,” I told him.
He seemed to think of that for a moment, tossing the possibility around in his head. “Oh, I don’t know. Bet you could get her snuggling. Just got to find what makes her gooey.”
“I’m not telling you when I do, if that’s what you’re after.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re cruel, $name. Very cruel.”<</if>>
Shaking my head, I made my way out back, mentally preparing myself for whatever I was about to walk into.
The wind was biting. It was a chill that I barely felt though after the Deep. I could see the frost beginning to creep over Hazel’s plants, white fingers of bitter cold clawing their way across the ground. The sound of birds and the scurry of chipmunks were strangely absent.
“I’ll go in your stead,” Belladonna was saying.
“We wish to gain Elias’s favor, Ms. Malady, not drive him over the edge.”
“Would you stop with the Ms. Malady bullshit? You know as well as I do that you should not be going there tonight.”
Gabriel arched a brow at her. “And why is that? I see Elias every month at the meetings. I have had far more contact with him than you have.” There was something slightly cruel about his expression. Belladonna brushed it off, however as she continued.
“And Reese? When Elias begins to cry again will you be able to…”
The door shut behind me and the two of them dropped their gazes from one another. Gabriel turned to me while Belladonna looked down at the ground, a silent curse falling from her lips.
[[Sorry for interrupting]]
[[How bad is this dinner going to be tonight?]]
[[Is there anything I can do to help with whatever this situation is?]]
“Sorry,” I said almost immediately. “I don’t want to interrupt.” Although, there was a part of me that did. I wasn’t aware of how toxic things could become between the two of them but I was almost certain that we couldn’t afford a drawn out argument.
“No,” Belladonna said, eyes locked on Gabriel once more. “Do not apologize. It perhaps is best we get this all out in the open anyway. Seeing as Gabriel is intent on walking in there tonight.”
“As you have so aptly pointed out before,” he said through gritted teeth. “Show me another choice and I will take it.”
Her lips thinned, arms wrapping around herself in a tight hold as her fingers made half moon marks into her pale arms. “You can excuse me if the thought of you walking into that hellhole upsets me.”
“I don’t see why it possibly would,” he snapped back. “Elias will behave tonight.”
She tipped her head back in frustration. “Elias is not notorious for behaving at all. If one wrong thing is said, he is prone to start a bloodbath and you very well know it.”
[[Side with Gabriel. I believe that you have this handled]]
[[Side with Belladonna. This Elias does seem to be a bit more than you are letting on]]
[[I was not prepared for the Deep. If I’m going to do this, I need to be prepared]]Stepping towards the two of them, I tried to defuse the tension. I wasn’t sure if Gabriel was being stubborn because this was Belladonna or if the situation was actually far more terrifying than he let on. As for Belladonna, I had little to no basis of what any of this meant. I was starting to see a side of her I never had before.
“Just how bad is this dinner going to be?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
“It will be fine,” Gabriel said tightly.
Belladonna looked and him incredulously. “Truly. You are going to stand here and say that after the ordeal ?they went through in the Deep?”
“Elias will behave,” he bit out.
She tipped her head back in frustration. “Elias is not notorious for behaving at all. If one wrong thing is said, he is prone to start a bloodbath and you very well know it.”
[[Side with Gabriel. I believe that you have this handled]]
[[Side with Belladonna. This Elias does seem to be a bit more than you are letting on]]
[[I was not prepared for the Deep. If I’m going to do this, I need to be prepared]]I stepped towards the two of them. “I'm not really going to pretend like I know what is going on with this situation,” I told them. “But how can I help?”
The surprise that shook the surrounding air was one that shone on Gabriel’s face. Whereas Belladonna looked slightly relieved. If she was being refuted in every other avenue, this may have been the only direction she could go. It was a look that didn’t last long as Gabriel spoke once more.
“Elias will behave tonight,” Gabriel intoned. “But I do thank you for the sentiment.”
She tipped her head back in frustration. “Elias is not notorious for behaving at all. If one wrong thing is said, he is prone to start a bloodbath and you very well know it.”
[[Side with Gabriel. I believe that you have this handled]]
[[Side with Belladonna. This Elias does seem to be a bit more than you are letting on]]
[[I was not prepared for the Deep. If I’m going to do this, I need to be prepared]]“Belladonna, I’m sure that Gabriel would not bring me into a dangerous situation,” I told her. “He is tasked to protect the Night Market. I am included in that.”
Belladonna’s eyes went wide as she stepped between us, looking at him with an expression I could not see. “Do not do this,” she pleaded. “Do not let ?them go into this situation blinded. You know what tonight will entail. It is cruel to pretend that it will be anything different.”
While I could not see Belladonna’s face, I could see Gabriel’s. He looked as if he were about to argue, his jaw tight with anger. But her words struck something within him. An ancient chord that was long ago buried.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep inhalation of breath, stepping past Belladonna.
“Do not speak of love,” Gabriel said. The words were so out of the blue that they took me off guard. “He will try to get you on the topic. Steer away from it each time.”
Belladonna nodded in agreement, a sigh of relief crossing her eyes. “Elias loves to talk about propriety. If you can convince him that you also think the Night Market is a hedonistic cesspool, he will appreciate it.”
“She is not wrong.” There was something taking place that I didn’t dare call forward. For the first time, I watched as Belladonna and Gabriel drew from the same resources. The two of them quickly relaying the information to me in near tandem. “Elias is like me,” Gabriel said. “A fallen angel. Though, we have taken very separate paths in our lives. He became a Baron long after he came to the Night Market. The process that got him there did not leave him unmarred.”
“The power that the role of a Baron provides him, is keeping him alive,” Belladonna said. “But he is certainly not someone that should have ever been gifted with such potential. Because of this, he is childlike in nature. It is an image that is unsettling but do not let it sway you into being caught off guard.”
[[Were you Warden when he became the Baron?]]
[[Did you know him before he fell?]]
[[Belladonna said he was one of the first that you knew in the market]]
“Gabriel, with how everyone is acting, I am concerned that this Elias is a bit more than you are letting on. Belladonna is just trying to prepare me. A point that I do appreciate given what has just happened when I walked into a situation unprepared.”
For a moment, I thought Gabriel was going to protest. To continue to pretend like a situation he was clearly upset over, was one we should walk towards with our heads held high. I saw his gaze flick towards me and towards Belladonna however, and his shoulders slump.
“Do not speak of love,” Gabriel said. The words were so out of the blue that they took me off guard. “He will try to get you on the topic. Steer away from it each time.”
Belladonna nodded in agreement, a sigh of relief crossing her eyes. “Elias loves to talk about propriety. If you can convince him that you also think the Night Market is a hedonistic cesspool, he will appreciate it.”
“She is not wrong.” There was something taking place that I didn’t dare call forward. For the first time, I watched as Belladonna and Gabriel drew from the same resources. The two of them quickly relaying the information to me in near tandem. “Elias is like me,” Gabriel said. “A fallen angel. Though, we have taken very separate paths in our lives. He became a Baron long after he came to the Night Market. The process that got him there did not leave him unmarred.”
“The power that the role of a Baron provides him, is keeping him alive,” Belladonna said. “But he is certainly not someone that should have ever been gifted with such potential. Because of this, he is childlike in nature. It is an image that is unsettling but do not let it sway you into being caught off guard.”
[[Were you Warden when he became the Baron?]]
[[Did you know him before he fell?]]
[[Belladonna said he was one of the first that you knew in the market]]
“I walked into the Deep, entirely unprepared for what I was to face. I heard the warnings given, but I can almost guarantee you they were nothing at the time. We are all operating on separate pages here, and it's becoming a detriment to me. I was hurt last night. I do not want to go into this dinner and become hurt again.”
Gabriel sighed, looking irritated, but at the same time, coming to the same conclusion I was. I could not continue to waltz into a lion's den and expect to come out unscathed.
“Do not speak of love,” Gabriel said. The words were so out of the blue that they took me off guard. “He will try to get you on the topic. Steer away from it each time.”
Belladonna nodded in agreement, a sigh of relief crossing her eyes. “Elias loves to talk about propriety. If you can convince him that you also think the Night Market is a hedonistic cesspool, he will appreciate it.”
“She is not wrong.” There was something taking place that I didn’t dare call forward. For the first time, I watched as Belladonna and Gabriel drew from the same resources. The two of them quickly relaying the information to me in near tandem. “Elias is like me,” Gabriel said. “A fallen angel. Though, we have taken very separate paths in our lives. He became a Baron long after he came to the Night Market. The process that got him there did not leave him unmarred.”
“The power that the role of a Baron provides him, is keeping him alive,” Belladonna said. “But he is certainly not someone that should have ever been gifted with such potential. Because of this, he is childlike in nature. It is an image that is unsettling but do not let it sway you into being caught off guard.”
[[Were you Warden when he became the Baron?]]
[[Did you know him before he fell?]]
[[Belladonna said he was one of the first that you knew in the market]]
“Were you the Warden at the time?”
“I was not. I did not become the Warden for another few years. When Elias did become a Baron however, the transfer within the Night Market was great. It was our last big upheaval.”
“Aside from when Malcolm died,” Belladonna said softly. Her eyes were grazing over the frostbitten ground, watching as the cold continued to seep forward.
“So if he is the Baron of the doll’s, what does that mean?”
“Perfection,” Belladonna said.
Gabriel nodded. “You must understand, $name, the Knowing is a beautiful place. It is one filled with starlight and song. Of all the wonders of the cosmos. Some would say it is perfection itself.”
“Some would disagree,” Belladonna intoned.
“Elias became obsessed with this after becoming a Baron. He always had a touch of it but when he became a Baron, there were certain events that transpired that did not allow him to stay the course. He became consumed with perfection. Of creating his own Knowing. He never forces people to be a part of his district but the people that are there are all living dolls.”
I nearly reeled back at how casual he sounded. I could tell he was frustrated but at the same time, it was clear that he perhaps did not grasp what all he was saying. “That is not something you just say, Gabriel. Living dolls sounds horrendous.”
“It is.” Belladonna said. “Though I suppose there is not a lot of judgement that can be passed seeing as it is all consensual. Somehow.”
It didn’t make me feel any better. Consensual or not, the horror show I was about to walk into felt entirely too one-sided for me to feel safe or comfortable. Especially so soon after the Deep. My only consolation seemed to be that it was taking place in the market itself, and that I would not be alone. Not this time.
Sighing, I tried to prepare myself for whatever would come. “What time is dinner?” I asked. Around me, the garden hardened into frosted glass.
[[To the Dollmaker|Elias Converge]]
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Stay and talk with Belladonna]]<</if>>“Did you know him before he fell?” I asked. Gabriel rarely spoke of the Knowing, or what it was even like before he came to the Night Market. I had little to no context of even what the Knowing truly was.
“The Knowing is much larger than the market,” Gabriel explained. “But we were always tasked with our own duties. It would be rare for Elias and I to have crossed paths, given what each of our goals were.”
Belladonna was nodding absently, as if she already knew this, looking around the garden.
“So if he is the Baron of the doll’s, what does that mean?”
“Perfection,” Belladonna said.
Gabriel nodded. “You must understand, $name, the Knowing is a beautiful place. It is one filled with starlight and song. Of all the wonders of the cosmos. Some would say it is perfection itself.”
“Some would disagree,” Belladonna intoned.
“Elias became obsessed with this after becoming a Baron. He always had a touch of it but when he became a Baron, there were certain events that transpired that did not allow him to stay the course. He became consumed with perfection. Of creating his own Knowing. He never forces people to be a part of his district but the people that are there are all living dolls.”
I nearly reeled back at how casual he sounded. I could tell he was frustrated but at the same time, it was clear that he perhaps did not grasp what all he was saying. “That is not something you just say, Gabriel. Living dolls sounds horrendous.”
“It is.” Belladonna said. “Though I suppose there is not a lot of judgement that can be passed seeing as it is all consensual. Somehow.”
It didn’t make me feel any better. Consensual or not, the horror show I was about to walk into felt entirely too one-sided for me to feel safe or comfortable. Especially so soon after the Deep. My only consolation seemed to be that it was taking place in the market itself, and that I would not be alone. Not this time.
Sighing, I tried to prepare myself for whatever would come. “What time is dinner?” I asked. Around me, the garden hardened into frosted glass.
[[To the Dollmaker|Elias Converge]]
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Stay and talk with Belladonna]]<</if>>“Belladonna said he was one of the first who you came in contact with in the Night Market,” I said hesitantly, my eyes flicking towards Belladonna, worried that I had overstepped. Gabriel didn’t look phased by it though and I wondered if his relation with Elias was common knowledge.
“He was. Given that we were both of similar origins, it was a blessing that he found me. I do not think I would have survived the madness without him. I did not have the foresight to know what was going on with me. But Elias did.”
There were so many questions that I had. What all did this madness? Why did Gabriel fall? Did he retain his celestial standing and if he didn’t, could he get it back? But now was not the time.
Next to us, Belladonna was nodding at what Gabriel was saying, already having known the tale, I took it. I noticed how her eyes were grazing over the frostbitten ground, watching as the cold continued to seep forward. “I didn’t notice it getting cold. Is the change of seasons upon us already?”
“Something that has been kickstarted, yes,” Gabriel said. “We are looking into it.”
“So if he is the Baron of the dolls, what does that mean?”
“Perfection,” Belladonna said.
Gabriel nodded. “You must understand, $name, the Knowing is a beautiful place. It is one filled with starlight and song. Of all the wonders of the cosmos. Some would say it is perfection itself.”
“Some would disagree,” Belladonna intoned.
“Elias became obsessed with this after becoming a Baron. He always had a touch of it but when he became a Baron, there were certain events that transpired that did not allow him to stay the course. He became consumed with perfection. Of creating his own Knowing. He never forces people to be a part of his district but the people that are there are all living dolls.”
I nearly reeled back at how casual he sounded. I could tell he was frustrated but at the same time, it was clear that he perhaps did not grasp what all he was saying. “That is not something you just say, Gabriel. Living dolls sounds horrendous.”
“It is.” Belladonna said. “Though I suppose there is not a lot of judgement that can be passed seeing as it is all consensual. Somehow.”
It didn’t make me feel any better. Consensual or not, the horror show I was about to walk into felt entirely too one-sided for me to feel safe or comfortable. Especially so soon after the Deep. My only consolation seemed to be that it was taking place in the market itself, and that I would not be alone. Not this time.
Sighing, I tried to prepare myself for whatever would come. “What time is dinner?” I asked. Around me, the garden hardened into frosted glass.
[[To the Dollmaker|Elias Converge]]
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Stay and talk with Belladonna]]<</if>>The afternoon had passed in relative quiet. After lunch, I had taken another of Hazel’s tonics, feeling the last remnants of the headache that had been lingering finally ebb away. Gabriel had stepped out for the afternoon to check on a few things at the station, along with keeping an eye on the new gate. Belladonna had left entirely, claiming work, and while Milo had stuck around, he had napped just as much as I had. Hazel had ended up closing the apothecary for the rest of the day.
Gabriel and I set out early evening, navigating through the busy streets of the market and walking the eternal staircase until we came to a passage lined with lush green grass. Neither of us spoke until we came to the end of it, an air of tension passing between us.
The gates were white, stretching in long tall lines up to a bowed arch painted in gold. Beyond, there was nothing that I could see other than a bright and blinding light. It blocked out the rest of the world beyond.
A series of clocks wove their way around the gates, right where the handles should have been. They spun in echoing clicks, working in tandem with each other. Gold cogs with bronze colored arrows tick tick ticked next to each other, clipping against each other in a distant melody.
Gabriel reached forward, turning three of the cogs two ticks to the right. The distant song suddenly sung in a harmonious choir as the gates swung open. Light poured out. So much so that I had to shield my eyes. I felt my feet step through and immediately, the heat hit me. My skin felt as if it were beginning to melt as sweat beaded my brow immediately. Through squinted eyes I turned to look at Gabriel. His face was twisted in discomfort but he did not seem to be surprised.
“Here.”
There was a small freestanding closet right by the gate, containing fans and lace umbrellas.
[[Take a fan]]
[[Take a parasol]]
[[Decline taking anything]]I grabbed a fan, immediately waving the folded paper before my face in hopes of cooling the sweat that was already gathering.
The concrete expanse before us was a winding coil that wove its way all the way up to a white marble house. The stone work that surrounded us was shining and clean, glittering in the bright lights overhead. Glancing upwards, I frowned.
“Is that sun?” The perpetual night had become something I was so accustomed to that now the idea of a day seemed strange. I had heard people in the market reminisce about the days they had basked in the warm light but until now, I had thought nothing about its absence. But now that it was here, it felt too hot. Too bright.
“Sunlamps,” Gabriel said. “Not the real thing. Only made to mimic the day. Elias never did like the night.”
A man approached, his movement jerking and uneven, a click sounded from each joint as he moved. “Gabriel. Baron Elias looks forward to your dinner. Come along.”
With three clicks of its arm, he pointed towards a carriage. Two horses were tied to the front, their hips bronze gears and their muzzle metal strips that rolled together on a ball joint. With a glance around, I saw more of the creatures, grazing in the field, despite the fact that they were clearly not flesh and blood. From a distance, they gave the illusion though, painted ponies that were free beneath the afternoon rays.
Motioning for me to climb inside the sleek white carriage, Gabriel helped me step up. The inside was white leather and smelled sterile. There was not a blemish on the entirety of the interior and I recalled the idea of perfection they had discussed with me earlier. Paradise.
As the horses began to trot up the drive I hadn’t even realized they were moving. Their journey up to the mansion before us was so fluid that it was as if we were gliding through air. Looking out the windows, I spied statues that lined the white drive. Various humanoid figures that moved in sync. It was with some surprise that I realized that these, unlike the horses, were very much real. Sitting back in my seat, I stared ahead, no longer wishing to observe my surroundings.
The mansion was far bigger up close than I had originally thought it to be. Made of pristine white stone with gold trim and a black slate roof. Curved windows lined the front of the manor, equidistant from each other and the front doors that opened upon our arrival were solid black glass, gleaming in the sunlamps.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 2]]
Immediately I took the parasol, situating it over my head. It did nothing to block the heat and only diffused the light into lace patterns at our feet.
The concrete expanse before us was a winding coil that wove its way all the way up to a white marble house. The stone work that surrounded us was shining and clean, glittering in the bright lights overhead. Glancing upwards, I frowned.
“Is that sun?” The perpetual night had become something I was so accustomed to that now the idea of a day seemed strange. I had heard people in the market reminisce about the days they had basked in the warm light but until now, I had thought nothing about its absence. But now that it was here, it felt too hot. Too bright.
“Sunlamps,” Gabriel said. “Not the real thing. Only made to mimic the day. Elias never did like the night.”
A man approached, his movement jerking and uneven, a click sounded from each joint as he moved. “Gabriel. Baron Elias looks forward to your dinner. Come along.”
With three clicks of its arm, he pointed towards a carriage. Two horses were tied to the front, their hips bronze gears and their muzzle metal strips that rolled together on a ball joint. With a glance around, I saw more of the creatures, grazing in the field, despite the fact that they were clearly not flesh and blood. From a distance, they gave the illusion though, painted ponies that were free beneath the afternoon rays.
Motioning for me to climb inside the sleek white carriage, Gabriel helped me step up. The inside was white leather and smelled sterile. There was not a blemish on the entirety of the interior and I recalled the idea of perfection they had discussed with me earlier. Paradise.
As the horses began to trot up the drive I hadn’t even realized they were moving. Their journey up to the mansion before us was so fluid that it was as if we were gliding through air. Looking out the windows, I spied statues that lined the white drive. Various humanoid figures that moved in sync. It was with some surprise that I realized that these, unlike the horses, were very much real. Sitting back in my seat, I stared ahead, no longer wishing to observe my surroundings.
The mansion was far bigger up close than I had originally thought it to be. Made of pristine white stone with gold trim and a black slate roof. Curved windows lined the front of the manor, equidistant from each other and the front doors that opened upon our arrival were solid black glass, gleaming in the sunlamps.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 2]]
I shook my head, declining to take either. While the light was hot and blaring over my head, I wanted my hands free.
The concrete expanse before us was a winding coil that wove its way all the way up to a white marble house. The stone work that surrounded us was shining and clean, glittering in the bright lights overhead. Glancing upwards, I frowned.
“Is that sun?” The perpetual night had become something I was so accustomed to that now the idea of a day seemed strange. I had heard people in the market reminisce about the days they had basked in the warm light but until now, I had thought nothing about its absence. But now that it was here, it felt too hot. Too bright.
“Sunlamps,” Gabriel said. “Not the real thing. Only made to mimic the day. Elias never did like the night.”
A man approached, his movement jerking and uneven, a click sounded from each joint as he moved. “Gabriel. Baron Elias looks forward to your dinner. Come along.”
With three clicks of its arm, he pointed towards a carriage. Two horses were tied to the front, their hips bronze gears and their muzzle metal strips that rolled together on a ball joint. With a glance around, I saw more of the creatures, grazing in the field, despite the fact that they were clearly not flesh and blood. From a distance, they gave the illusion though, painted ponies that were free beneath the afternoon rays.
Motioning for me to climb inside the sleek white carriage, Gabriel helped me step up. The inside was white leather and smelled sterile. There was not a blemish on the entirety of the interior and I recalled the idea of perfection they had discussed with me earlier. Paradise.
As the horses began to trot up the drive I hadn’t even realized they were moving. Their journey up to the mansion before us was so fluid that it was as if we were gliding through air. Looking out the windows, I spied statues that lined the white drive. Various humanoid figures that moved in sync. It was with some surprise that I realized that these, unlike the horses, were very much real. Sitting back in my seat, I stared ahead, no longer wishing to observe my surroundings.
The mansion was far bigger up close than I had originally thought it to be. Made of pristine white stone with gold trim and a black slate roof. Curved windows lined the front of the manor, equidistant from each other and the front doors that opened upon our arrival were solid black glass, gleaming in the sunlamps.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 2]]
I followed Gabriel as we stepped inside, stopping in the foyer beneath a shifting ceiling. The sun and moon circled each other in an eternal dance, stars twisting around the two as if they were players in a lover's game. A door opened to our side, a young man stepping out. Blond curls bounced boyishly around a soft chin, his skin smooth and unblemished.
“Gabriel,” he sighed. His voice was breathy and lilting. Blood stained his hands. “Oh, I am so embarrassed. You are early. I thought I would have time to clean up.”
A doll walked over to him, joint and ball appendages moving as if they were on strings. I struggled to think of them in any other way. Their clothes were fresh and crisp and the smile on their face was unmoving. Handing him a white kerchief, they bowed, bending at the waist as if they were attached by strings. They waited while the man wiped at his hands. The blood came away cleanly, staining the kerchief crimson.
“Burn it,” the young man, who I assumed was Elias, said casually. Taking the soiled fabric, the doll spun almost comically on their heel before dancing away.
Sauntering up to Gabriel, Elias popped up on the tips of his shiny black shoes with pastel lavender bows. Gabriel leaned down to hug him awkwardly, while Elias snuggled in exuberant, Gabriel looked stiff and uncomfortable.
“You’ve grown so tall, son. How do you continue to grow so tall? One day I will see you and you will be as big as a house.”
“It is good to see you too, Elias. May I introduce a dear friend of mine, $name.”
[[It is a pleasure to meet you]]
[[Gabriel has told me so much about you]]
[[Hello. Thank you so much for inviting us to dinner]]“It is a pleasure to meet you Baron Elias.” I tried to keep my tone polite and my face neutral. “From what I have seen of your grounds, they are lovely. So different from the Night Market itself.”
“Oh you noticed.” He turned lavender eyes towards me, they were wide and lacked pupils. His smile was a thin stretch across the face, the lips itself smooth and uncracked. “The Night Market is an abysmal little place, isn’t it? Dirty and full of disease. I mean, I should decontaminate you for even walking through those gates.” Elias’s laugh was loud and scraped against the walls. Around him, the other dolls joined in.
I glanced at Gabriel, his face remaining calm and unreadable. “Elias. You said you wished to have dinner. Is it ready?”
“Why of course not? Silly Gabriel. I need to take you two for a tour. It’s been so long since you’ve been here. I’ve applied so many changes. Come. Come along.”
He clapped his hands and the dolls around scattered in several clicking directions. When Elias tapped his feet on the marble floor, he looked at Gabriel admiringly. “I am just so proud of you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “The tour, Elias.”
“That Gabriel,” Elias laughed. “So funny. Never called me dad ever. Though I get it. I get it. He does look a bit older than me. Gabriel, I could take care of those wrinkles for you. It would just be a little nip and a tuck with my little needle, and you would be as good as new.”
“No, thank you.”
Elias tittered, tears coming to his eyes, as if this were all some sort of funny family joke between them.
We began walking, past the grand staircase and towards the back rooms that opened into a beautiful garden. The grass was green with a long water feature embedded right down the center. Small platforms stood in the middle where men and women stood, holding full vases of water that they poured, as if they were the fountain themselves. Surrounding them were bushes of perfect flowers. All in bloom. All in the softest blush pink I had ever seen. The garden smelled sweetly and the birds that sang whistled a tune perfectly in line with each other.
Elias sighed dreamily. “It took some time to get them all to know their part but I think they are doing quite nicely, don’t you? Take Madam Tarone over there. She came to me, nothing more than a pile of rags. And now look at her. She is stunning.”
The woman in question had the smoothest skin I had ever seen with painted lines along her jaw. Her hair was curled and piled high upon her head and the joints of her elbows and knees were stitched with gold threading. It was her eyes though. The eyes got me. They were bright and glassy and devoid of any sort of pupil.
“It is a little hot out here, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was not looking at any of the dolls, pointedly keeping his expression as far off as possible. I realized now it was deniability. If he didn’t see it, he didn’t have to report it.
“You noticed that, did you?” Elias smiled at him conspiratorially. “I had those turned up years ago. Had to keep those pesky vampires out, right son?”
Despite the laughter that rang through the entirety of the estate, Gabriel was not laughing. His jaw was clenched tight, and his hands straight at his side.
[[It is a little too hot out here. Could we go back inside?]]
[[Baron Elias, I would love to see more]]
[[Say nothing and take Gabriel’s hand in comfort]]“Gabriel has told me so much about you,” I told him, keeping my tone polite and face neutral.
“Has he?” Elias turned lavender eyes towards me, they were wide and lacked pupils. His smile was a thin stretch across the face, the lips itself smooth and uncracked. There was such excitement contained within his face that I couldn’t help but think of a child. “Oh, Gabriel, knowing that I am on your mind is always so wonderful to hear.”
I glanced at Gabriel, his face remaining calm and unreadable. “Elias. You said you wished to have dinner. Is it ready?”
“Why of course not? Silly Gabriel. I need to take you two for a tour. It’s been so long since you’ve been here. I’ve applied so many changes. Come. Come along.”
He clapped his hands and the dolls around scattered in several clicking directions. When Elias tapped his feet on the marble floor, he looked at Gabriel admiringly. “I am just so proud of you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “The tour, Elias.”
“That Gabriel,” Elias laughed. “So funny. Never called me dad ever. Though I get it. I get it. He does look a bit older than me. Gabriel, I could take care of those wrinkles for you. It would just be a little nip and a tuck with my little needle, and you would be as good as new.”
“No, thank you.”
Elias tittered, tears coming to his eyes, as if this were all some sort of funny family joke between them.
We began walking, past the grand staircase and towards the back rooms that opened into a beautiful garden. The grass was green with a long water feature embedded right down the center. Small platforms stood in the middle where men and women stood, holding full vases of water that they poured, as if they were the fountain themselves. Surrounding them were bushes of perfect flowers. All in bloom. All in the softest blush pink I had ever seen. The garden smelled sweetly and the birds that sang whistled a tune perfectly in line with each other.
Elias sighed dreamily. “It took some time to get them all to know their part but I think they are doing quite nicely, don’t you? Take Madam Tarone over there. She came to me, nothing more than a pile of rags. And now look at her. She is stunning.”
The woman in question had the smoothest skin I had ever seen with painted lines along her jaw. Her hair was curled and piled high upon her head and the joints of her elbows and knees were stitched with gold threading. It was her eyes though. The eyes got me. They were bright and glassy and devoid of any sort of pupil.
“It is a little hot out here, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was not looking at any of the dolls, pointedly keeping his expression as far off as possible. I realized now it was deniability. If he didn’t see it, he didn’t have to report it.
“You noticed that, did you?” Elias smiled at him conspiratorially. “I had those turned up years ago. Had to keep those pesky vampires out, right son?”
Despite the laughter that rang through the entirety of the estate, Gabriel was not laughing. His jaw was clenched tight, and his hands straight at his side.
[[It is a little too hot out here. Could we go back inside?]]
[[Baron Elias, I would love to see more]]
[[Say nothing and take Gabriel’s hand in comfort]]“Hello,” I said politely, keeping my face and tone as even as possible. “Thank you so much for inviting us to dinner. I have been looking forward to it.”
“Why, Gabriel. Such manners from this one. Much better than the usual company you keep.” He turned lavender eyes towards me, they were wide and lacked pupils. His smile was a thin stretch across the face, the lips itself smooth and uncracked. “The Night Market is an abysmal little place, isn’t it? Dirty and full of disease. I mean, I should decontaminate you for even walking through those gates.” Elias’s laugh was loud and scraped against the walls. Around him, the other dolls joined in.
I glanced at Gabriel, his face remaining calm and unreadable. “Elias. You said you wished to have dinner. Is it ready?”
“Why of course not? Silly Gabriel. I need to take you two for a tour. It’s been so long since you’ve been here. I’ve applied so many changes. Come. Come along.”
He clapped his hands and the dolls around scattered in several clicking directions. When Elias tapped his feet on the marble floor, he looked at Gabriel admiringly. “I am just so proud of you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “The tour, Elias.”
“That Gabriel,” Elias laughed. “So funny. Never called me dad ever. Though I get it. I get it. He does look a bit older than me. Gabriel, I could take care of those wrinkles for you. It would just be a little nip and a tuck with my little needle, and you would be as good as new.”
“No, thank you.”
Elias tittered, tears coming to his eyes, as if this were all some sort of funny family joke between them.
We began walking, past the grand staircase and towards the back rooms that opened into a beautiful garden. The grass was green with a long water feature embedded right down the center. Small platforms stood in the middle where men and women stood, holding full vases of water that they poured, as if they were the fountain themselves. Surrounding them were bushes of perfect flowers. All in bloom. All in the softest blush pink I had ever seen. The garden smelled sweetly and the birds that sang whistled a tune perfectly in line with each other.
Elias sighed dreamily. “It took some time to get them all to know their part but I think they are doing quite nicely, don’t you? Take Madam Tarone over there. She came to me, nothing more than a pile of rags. And now look at her. She is stunning.”
The woman in question had the smoothest skin I had ever seen with painted lines along her jaw. Her hair was curled and piled high upon her head and the joints of her elbows and knees were stitched with gold threading. It was her eyes though. The eyes got me. They were bright and glassy and devoid of any sort of pupil.
“It is a little hot out here, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was not looking at any of the dolls, pointedly keeping his expression as far off as possible. I realized now it was deniability. If he didn’t see it, he didn’t have to report it.
“You noticed that, did you?” Elias smiled at him conspiratorially. “I had those turned up years ago. Had to keep those pesky vampires out, right son?”
Despite the laughter that rang through the entirety of the estate, Gabriel was not laughing. His jaw was clenched tight, and his hands straight at his side.
[[It is a little too hot out here. Could we go back inside?]]
[[Baron Elias, I would love to see more]]
[[Say nothing and take Gabriel’s hand in comfort]]Before Gabriel could respond, I began to fan myself, clearing my throat loudly. “You know, it is a little too hot out for me. Baron Elias, would you mind terribly if we went back inside? I’m afraid the way the Night Market has been does not set me up for such beauty.”
“Of course,” he cried. “Of course.” When he clapped his hands together he jumped up and down in glee. “Oh, son, I do love this one so. Wonderful choice. Just wonderful.”
Elias stepped ahead of us and back into the villa. <<if $gabrielro == "true">>Reaching out, I took Gabriel’s hand and squeezed.<</if>>
We continued to wander the estate passing similar incidents of living statues and doll-like wanderers, all presenting perfectly and as if on cue.
Elias decorated his home with people. Living statues clicked across the estate, holding flowers, beautiful paintings, or contorting their own body into art. A few walked freely, all of them with the same smooth skin no matter the tone. Perfectly painted on lips and stitches across each joint, threaded in shimmering gold. They all smiled at Elias, though it did not seem like they had a choice. There was not a person without the painted grin.
“We will eat dinner in here,” Elias said.
A white linen table stretched out before us with a beautiful blush rose and mint green centerpiece of perfectly plucked flora. The table was set with gold plates for nearly a dozen people, gold orbs of sunlight hovering above the dining sets. Gabriel was looking beyond the table though, towards a mural on the back wall. It stretched upwards, from floor to ceiling, one of the only true paintings I had seen within the estate itself.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 3]]
Before Gabriel had the chance to respond, I stepped forward. “Baron Elias, I would love to see more of your estate. It is entirely intriguing.”
“Of course,” he cried. “Of course.” When he clapped his hands together he jumped up and down in glee. “Oh, son, I do love this one so. Wonderful choice. Just wonderful.”
Elias stepped ahead of us and back into the villa. <<if $gabrielro == "true">>Reaching out, I took Gabriel’s hand and squeezed.<</if>>
We continued to wander the estate passing similar incidents of living statues and doll-like wanderers, all presenting perfectly and as if on cue.
Elias decorated his home with people. Living statues clicked across the estate, holding flowers, beautiful paintings, or contorting their own body into art. A few walked freely, all of them with the same smooth skin no matter the tone. Perfectly painted on lips and stitches across each joint, threaded in shimmering gold. They all smiled at Elias, though it did not seem like they had a choice. There was not a person without the painted grin.
“We will eat dinner in here,” Elias said.
A white linen table stretched out before us with a beautiful blush rose and mint green centerpiece of perfectly plucked flora. The table was set with gold plates for nearly a dozen people, gold orbs of sunlight hovering above the dining sets. Gabriel was looking beyond the table though, towards a mural on the back wall. It stretched upwards, from floor to ceiling, one of the only true paintings I had seen within the estate itself.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 3]]
Reaching out, I brushed my fingers against Gabriel’s clenched fists. They did not uncurl but he did look towards me, focusing on my eyes rather than what lay beyond. I tried the best I could to convey to him that it would be okay. That we would get through this together.
“Elias,” he said, still keeping his eyes on me. “I would like to go back inside now. It was a long walk.”
“Of course,” Elias cried out, as if he was horrified he had not thought of our journey. “Yes. Yes. Come inside. Son, I am so sorry. I think I got too excited and far too ahead of myself.”
Gabriel smiled thinly at him as he turned to head back inside, leading us out of the bright lights of the lamps.
We continued to wander the estate passing similar incidents of living statues and doll-like wanderers, all presenting perfectly and as if on cue.
Elias decorated his home with people. Living statues clicked across the estate, holding flowers, beautiful paintings, or contorting their own body into art. A few walked freely, all of them with the same smooth skin no matter the tone. Perfectly painted on lips and stitches across each joint, threaded in shimmering gold. They all smiled at Elias, though it did not seem like they had a choice. There was not a person without the painted grin.
“We will eat dinner in here,” Elias said.
A white linen table stretched out before us with a beautiful blush rose and mint green centerpiece of perfectly plucked flora. The table was set with gold plates for nearly a dozen people, gold orbs of sunlight hovering above the dining sets. Gabriel was looking beyond the table though, towards a mural on the back wall. It stretched upwards, from floor to ceiling, one of the only true paintings I had seen within the estate itself.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 3]]
It was of a dark man, dressed in armor that shimmered as my eyes were drawn across him. His arms were bare with cracks of deep purple light arcing across his skin. They wove upwards, outstretched from his hands to paint a stormy sky, circling a panther that loomed above. The claws of the creature ripped at the fissure that loomed above. The deep, cloying scent of smoke and electricity wafted from the painting itself.
“Do you like it?” Elias asked, voice calm and in awe. “It took years for the artist to gain his likeness. When I look at it, I can almost imagine he is here.” Reaching out, he clasped Gabriel’s hand within his own. “I still have dinner with him every night. Like we used to. Do you remember that Gabriel?”
Gabriel said nothing as he stared at the painting, his expression a mixture of sorrow and abject pain.
I stared at it, the two men framed by the sheer size of what was before us. I knew nothing of the man whose likeness was portrayed but I felt my chest ache at the sight of him. At the love that had to have gone into creating something like this in his honor. I was about to turn away from it, giving Gabriel and Elias some privacy, when the painting twitched. A deep inhalation of breath echoed through the room.
Horrified, I stared at the painting with wide eyes. “Is it moving?”
Elias sighed, cocking his head to the side. “Yes. Unfortunately they all do need to breathe.”
People. The mural was made of people all contorted in just such a way, the paint of the mural upon their naked skin. <<if $pits == "true">>I could feel the slick of their bodies as if it was my own. Wet skin rubbing against me. The pungeant smell of both salt and sweat in the air.<</if>>
“Elias,” Gabriel said, staring at the painting. “I do not think I can eat in here.”
Elias turned to him, stamping his feet. “Gabriel, that is your father. You will respect him.”
[[How could you think such a thing is okay?]]
[[Who is this?]]
[[(lie) Elias, the pain, I think, is too much. It is too fresh]]I turned away from the painting, not able to stomach it any longer. Not after knowing what it was. Looking at Elias, I let the mask of neutrality slip. I knew the second it did because something off ticked across his eyes. “How could you think this is okay?” I asked. “Those are people. They aren’t your entertainment.”
Elias laughed, though this time, it didn’t reach his eyes as it became a more nervous titter than anything else. “Entertainment?” he asked confused. “Why no, dear. They are of course not entertainment. This is their job. Their life.”
Before things could progress much further, Gabriel turned away from the painting as well, taking me by the arm. “We will not be eating in here, Elias. Choose a different room.”
Again, Elias looked at us, confusion clearly shining behind his lavender orbs as he tried to figure out what he did wrong. “Of course, son. Of course,” he cooed. “The pain is probably too raw for people who were not there.”
I didn’t ask for clarification as we moved from the room. Instead, I stuck close to Gabriel, trying to regain control of my emotions.
We moved into another room. Something smaller and more intimate. The walls were still gilded in gold and silver filigree. The table was draped in pure white and the plates were made of shining porcelain. The room itself felt so bright that I nearly had to shield my eyes, my headache returning to a full throb by the sheer luminosity of the room itself.
Gabriel pulled the chair out for me and I lowered myself to the cushioned seat. Elias of course sat at the head of the table, hands clasped in his lap as he smiled brightly out at us. His puffed sleeves looked comical on what I could see was a very thin wrist. The round boyish face was cherubic in nature and with each horror that had been revealed, his grin looked as if it was stretching across him in a manic crack.
“Tell me, Gabriel. Catch me up on your life. It has been so long.”
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>Gabriel took his own seat next to me, hand within reach.<</if>> “I have been working, Elias. You do know this.”
Elias tittered in laughter. “As the Warden. Yes. Such a wonderful title. Though I do not understand how you manage in such a filthy district. You are trying to clean it up, correct?”
“Yes,” Gabriel intoned. Though I got the distinct feeling his version of cleaning things up, and Elias’s were starkly different.
“If there is anything I can do to help you, Gabriel, you know that I will. I was down at the flesh pits the other day and I have to say that the shipment there is abhorrent. At least Solia knows to keep a few of those prisoners off to the side for me. That is rather kind of her. I offered to help her with her aesthetic, get rid of those terrible pockmarks, but she just did not wish to listen.”
“She did what?” Gabriel’s tone finally snapped. It had been firm before but the anger he had been keeping tight control of was suddenly fully present.
Elias, however, apparently did not hear it. “Who did what?”
“She saved body parts for you?”
“Well,” Elias said with a small sigh. “They were whole bodies. In the end, I saved them. I didn’t chop them up like the flesh traders did. I ended up giving them new life here. They are our wait staff tonight.”
On cue, the french doors off to the side opened. Men and woman came toddling in, smiles plastered to their faces, cheeks painted with a rosy hue. They were dressed similar to Elias, puffy sleeves and wide hooped skirts, pants that billowed out and tailored into patent leather shiny black shoes. They carried platters of food and as if dancing, bent over at once, placing the food on the table with a bow.
Elias cooed at them. “Aren’t they lovely? I’ve been using a new thread. Keeps the scarring to a minimum.”
[[I think I am uncertain with what exactly you do here]]
[[The food looks lovely]]
[[So how did Gabriel and you meet?]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[You take part in the flesh trade?]]<</if>>
<<set $defyelias to "true">>I couldn’t turn away from the painting. Now that I knew what I was looking at, I could see the twitch of a finger. The blink of an eye. Movement that I was sure was not supposed to be there but clearly could not be controlled.
Tipping my face upwards, I stared up at the lined face of the man above. His jaw was set in a harsh slash across dark skin, his gaze piercing as it stared up into the torn sky. “Who is this?” My voice came out cracked, my careful mask of neutrality slipping.
“Reese,” Elias breathed. “My one true love. Gabriel’s other father. He died years ago. Just as I became the Baron.” Hand stretching outwards, he looked as if he wished to run his fingers down the vision of the man. “I miss him something fierce. He was the light of my life.”
Gabriel turned away from the painting, as well as the soft words Elias just spoke. “We will not be eating in here, Elias. Choose a different room.”
Elias looked at us, confusion clearly shining behind his lavender orbs as he tried to figure out what he did wrong. “Of course, son. Of course,” he cooed. “The pain is probably too raw for people who were not there.”
I didn’t ask for clarification as we moved from the room. Instead, I stuck close to Gabriel, trying to regain control of my emotions.
We moved into another room. Something smaller and more intimate. The walls were still gilded in gold and silver filigree. The table was draped in pure white and the plates were made of shining porcelain. The room itself felt so bright that I nearly had to shield my eyes, my headache returning to a full throb by the sheer luminosity of the room itself.
Gabriel pulled the chair out for me and I lowered myself to the cushioned seat. Elias of course sat at the head of the table, hands clasped in his lap as he smiled brightly out at us. His puffed sleeves looked comical on what I could see was a very thin wrist. The round boyish face was cherubic in nature and with each horror that had been revealed, his grin looked as if it was stretching across him in a manic crack.
“Tell me, Gabriel. Catch me up on your life. It has been so long.”
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>Gabriel took his own seat next to me, hand within reach.<</if>> “I have been working, Elias. You do know this.”
Elias tittered in laughter. “As the Warden. Yes. Such a wonderful title. Though I do not understand how you manage in such a filthy district. You are trying to clean it up, correct?”
“Yes,” Gabriel intoned. Though I got the distinct feeling his version of cleaning things up, and Elias’s were starkly different.
“If there is anything I can do to help you, Gabriel, you know that I will. I was down at the flesh pits the other day and I have to say that the shipment there is abhorrent. At least Solia knows to keep a few of those prisoners off to the side for me. That is rather kind of her. I offered to help her with her aesthetic, get rid of those terrible pockmarks, but she just did not wish to listen.”
“She did what?” Gabriel’s tone finally snapped. It had been firm before but the anger he had been keeping tight control of was suddenly fully present.
Elias, however, apparently did not hear it. “Who did what?”
“She saved body parts for you?”
“Well,” Elias said with a small sigh. “They were whole bodies. In the end, I saved them. I didn’t chop them up like the flesh traders did. I ended up giving them new life here. They are our wait staff tonight.”
On cue, the french doors off to the side opened. Men and woman came toddling in, smiles plastered to their faces, cheeks painted with a rosy hue. They were dressed similar to Elias, puffy sleeves and wide hooped skirts, pants that billowed out and tailored into patent leather shiny black shoes. They carried platters of food and as if dancing, bent over at once, placing the food on the table with a bow.
Elias cooed at them. “Aren’t they lovely? I’ve been using a new thread. Keeps the scarring to a minimum.”
[[I think I am uncertain with what exactly you do here]]
[[The food looks lovely]]
[[So how did Gabriel and you meet?]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[You take part in the flesh trade?]]<</if>>I felt horror roll through me as I turned away from the sight. I plastered a smile onto my face, looking down at the smaller man. “Elias, I think what Gabriel is trying to say is that the pain is still too fresh for him. He wants to enjoy this dinner with you. Not be clouded by the sadness.”
“Oh,” Elias turned towards Gabriel. “Oh, son. Oh, I understand.” I watched as Gabriel flinched at being called ‘son’. Elias said it like it was something special. A title that he held for Gabriel alone. Though I couldn’t hear love within it. It felt as if it were said with nothing more than a possessive nature. Elias’s son. His perfect boy.
It made me sick.
We moved into another room. Something smaller and more intimate. The walls were still gilded in gold and silver filigree. The table was draped in pure white and the plates were made of shining porcelain. The room itself felt so bright that I nearly had to shield my eyes, my headache returning to a full throb by the sheer luminosity of the room itself.
Gabriel pulled the chair out for me and I lowered myself to the cushioned seat. Elias of course sat at the head of the table, hands clasped in his lap as he smiled brightly out at us. His puffed sleeves looked comical on what I could see was a very thin wrist. The round boyish face was cherubic in nature and with each horror that had been revealed, his grin looked as if it was stretching across him in a manic crack.
“Tell me, Gabriel. Catch me up on your life. It has been so long.”
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>Gabriel took his own seat next to me, hand within reach.<</if>> “I have been working, Elias. You do know this.”
Elias tittered in laughter. “As the Warden. Yes. Such a wonderful title. Though I do not understand how you manage in such a filthy district. You are trying to clean it up, correct?”
“Yes,” Gabriel intoned. Though I got the distinct feeling his version of cleaning things up, and Elias’s were starkly different.
“If there is anything I can do to help you, Gabriel, you know that I will. I was down at the flesh pits the other day and I have to say that the shipment there is abhorrent. At least Solia knows to keep a few of those prisoners off to the side for me. That is rather kind of her. I offered to help her with her aesthetic, get rid of those terrible pockmarks, but she just did not wish to listen.”
“She did what?” Gabriel’s tone finally snapped. It had been firm before but the anger he had been keeping tight control of was suddenly fully present.
Elias, however, apparently did not hear it. “Who did what?”
“She saved body parts for you?”
“Well,” Elias said with a small sigh. “They were whole bodies. In the end, I saved them. I didn’t chop them up like the flesh traders did. I ended up giving them new life here. They are our wait staff tonight.”
On cue, the french doors off to the side opened. Men and woman came toddling in, smiles plastered to their faces, cheeks painted with a rosy hue. They were dressed similar to Elias, puffy sleeves and wide hooped skirts, pants that billowed out and tailored into patent leather shiny black shoes. They carried platters of food and as if dancing, bent over at once, placing the food on the table with a bow.
Elias cooed at them. “Aren’t they lovely? I’ve been using a new thread. Keeps the scarring to a minimum.”
[[I think I am uncertain with what exactly you do here]]
[[The food looks lovely]]
[[So how did Gabriel and you meet?]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[You take part in the flesh trade?]]<</if>>“I uh- I think I’m a little out of the loop,” I said softly, a tremor lacing my voice. “What exactly is it that you do here?”
“I am in the business of bettering people,” he said. One of the dolls sauntered over, loading up his plate. “They come to me because they know the Night Market can offer them so very little. These are people who are ascended, who know that there is a higher purpose, I get them as close to the Knowing as possible.”
“How?”
“By erasing their flaws. By teaching them about devotion and sacrifice. The more they practice giving themselves over to the divine, the closer to the endless joy they will become.”
“So you believe that physical perfection equates to the Knowings love?”
“You can only find the Knowings love through perfection,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. I had nothing left to give, but a strained smile as food was loaded on my plate as well.
“Now, this is not to say they will ever go to the heavenly cosmos,” Elias continued. “I do not believe anyone from the Night Market will be able to make it there. Hedonistic as this place is. But I do provide as close to that paradise as possible.”
“So does everyone live here?”
“Yes. They live and serve on the grounds. I provide them with everything they need.”
“And what do you get in return?”
“Nothing. I only received the knowledge that I am making the world in which we exist upon, a better place.”
I glanced over at Gabriel. His face was tight, and his fingers gripped his fork. There was a slight bend in the silverware. I couldn’t imagine how this man was ever considered his father. What had happened to keep Gabriel from the insanity that clearly shown behind those lavender eyes? Nothing in me believed that this man could have had any sort of positive influence on Gabriel. Their point of connection ended strictly with the fact that they had both fallen from an unknown world that felt surreal and untouchable at this point.
When a gasp struck through the room, I startled, looking over to where a maid was quickly trying to wipe away the water upon Gabriel’s coat. She had moved forward to refill his glass and had tripped, tipping the carafe across his forearm. It was barely damp, from what I could see. She had caught herself in time despite her shoes looking too small, her feet squished into ballet like slippers that were tinged in blood.
“I am so sorry, Sir Warden,” she said. Her smile was still in place.
“It is nothing,” Gabriel said, grabbing at one of his napkins. At the head of the table though, I heard something pop.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 4]]
“The food looks lovely.” I wanted out of here. I wanted this meal to end and for us to go home. No longer did I care about the favor we were supposed to retrieve. I doubted anyone would fault us if we returned without it.
“It is made here on site, of course,” Elias said. “I have some of the best chefs in the Night Market working for me. Their talent was wasted out there. But here they thrive.”
I didn’t even look down at the food that was being put on my plate. Almost certain that it would be human as well. Cast off parts from the dolls he made.
“So does everyone live here?”
“Yes. They live and serve on the grounds. I provide them with everything they need.”
“And what do you get in return?”
“Nothing. I only received the knowledge that I am making the world in which we exist upon, a better place.”
I glanced over at Gabriel. His face was tight, and his fingers gripped his fork. There was a slight bend in the silverware. I couldn’t imagine how this man was ever considered his father. What had happened to keep Gabriel from the insanity that clearly shown behind those lavender eyes? Nothing in me believed that this man could have had any sort of positive influence on Gabriel. Their point of connection ended strictly with the fact that they had both fallen from an unknown world that felt surreal and untouchable at this point.
When a gasp struck through the room, I startled, looking over to where a maid was quickly trying to wipe away the water upon Gabriel’s coat. She had moved forward to refill his glass and had tripped, tipping the carafe across his forearm. It was barely damp, from what I could see. She had caught herself in time despite her shoes looking too small, her feet squished into ballet like slippers that were tinged in blood.
“I am so sorry, Sir Warden,” she said. Her smile was still in place.
“It is nothing,” Gabriel said, grabbing at one of his napkins. At the head of the table though, I heard something pop.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 4]]
“So,” I started. “How did you and Gabriel meet? He has told me the basics but I would love to hear your take.” I was trying to listen. Trying to keep my mind present and focused and not on the dolls that were clicking around the room as if controlled by shiny gears and invisible strings.
“Reese is the one who found him,” Elias said. “Alone and naked in the rain. He knew the signs of course so he brought him home. I don’t think you had been cast out for too long at that point, had you Gabriel?”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “I am afraid I do not remember much of that time.”
Elias nodded sagely. “Yes. Those first days can be confusing. Why, when I was first cast out, I fell into a contaminated ocean. Ironically enough, Reese fished me out there as well. Saved me. Saved both of us really.”
Gabriel knocked his foot against mine and suddenly I remember how I wasn’t to speak of love. Quickly, I changed the subject.
“So does everyone live here?”
“Yes. They live and serve on the grounds. I provide them with everything they need.”
“And what do you get in return?”
“Nothing. I only received the knowledge that I am making the world in which we exist upon, a better place.”
I glanced over at Gabriel. His face was tight, and his fingers gripped his fork. There was a slight bend in the silverware. I couldn’t imagine how this man was ever considered his father. What had happened to keep Gabriel from the insanity that clearly shown behind those lavender eyes? Nothing in me believed that this man could have had any sort of positive influence on Gabriel. Their point of connection ended strictly with the fact that they had both fallen from an unknown world that felt surreal and untouchable at this point.
When a gasp struck through the room, I startled, looking over to where a maid was quickly trying to wipe away the water upon Gabriel’s coat. She had moved forward to refill his glass and had tripped, tipping the carafe across his forearm. It was barely damp, from what I could see. She had caught herself in time despite her shoes looking too small, her feet squished into ballet like slippers that were tinged in blood.
“I am so sorry, Sir Warden,” she said. Her smile was still in place.
“It is nothing,” Gabriel said, grabbing at one of his napkins. At the head of the table though, I heard something pop.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 4]]
“You take part in the flesh trade?”
Elias. I remembered the name. The face. The way he had smiled as he picked out his wares.
“I do,” he said gleefully, sharing a secret with me. “Not for the chopping of body parts, however. Such barbarity to something vile like that. No. I prefer to get the down on their luck and fix them up tip-top. Offer them another life. A better life.”
I thought of all the people we had seen as we walked through the estate. The “perfection” that was stitched across skin. How many of them had been dragged from that pit, covered in sand and bodily fluids, wishing for death. This was not a life that the Dollmaker was giving them. This was another version of their nightmares. Made so much worse because he convinced them all that this is what they wanted.
My stomach rolled. Next to me, Gabriel was tensing.
[[Say nothing|Chapter Eight Say nothing]]
[[How lovely]]
[[I was a part of that trade]]
<<set $defyelias to "true">>“How dare you.” Elias’s voice was high-pitched and containing more rage than possible through such a dulcet tone. His head was tipped to the side, his eyes bright and furious, and his smile, still in place. “How dare you treat my son in such a way.”
“Elias, it was only water,” Gabriel said. “There is no reason–”
“Attend,” Elias snapped. The woman walked over to him. Around us, the rest of the dolls had gone limp, their eyes averted from what was taking place at the head of the table. The woman stood before him, her head bowed in supplication.
“You filth,” Elias hissed.
“I am so sorry, Master Elias.”
“You degenerate, useless stain upon this world. I invite you into my home and this is how you repay me?”
“It’s my feet,” the girl said, a sob threading through her voice. “They hurt after the last procedure. I tripped.”
“Lies,” he shrieked. The glass upon the table shattered with the sound of it, causing me to jump back from where I sat before shards could be embedded into my skin. “How dare you act in such a way.” I could see him reaching for the knife. A dull butter knife that glinted in the overhead chandelier. The girl was outright crying now, her smile still plastered to her face. “How dare you disrespect the children of the Knowing.”
When his hand lifted in the air the woman screamed in horror. Just as Gabriel stood as well.
“Elias!”
His voice boomed across the room, putting a halt to everything. The girl stood softly weeping while Elias loomed over her, suddenly having grown a few inches, the side of his cheek split, black seams popping with stuffing falling like snow to the table.
“That is enough,” Gabriel gritted out.
[[Go to the woman. Check and see if she is okay]]
[[To Elias "What is wrong with you? This is your perfection?"]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[To Gabriel "Tell me again how this system works so well"]]<</if>>
The streets were dusted with melting ice as we walked away from the Dollhouse and away from the bright sunlamps. The world felt darker suddenly, now that we were in the absence of light. I didn’t know where we were going. Gabriel’s eyes were set straight forward, his jaw in a hard line as he stared ahead. A few times, I tried to say something, anything to help with whatever had transpired, but nothing felt adequate. <<if $pits == "true">> I couldn't tell if I should be angry at Gabriel, Elias or the Knowing. Or if I should just pity them for be indoctrinated into such a belief.<</if>> So I simply walked with him. A silent presence, ready to be there for him if he needed it.
We wound through the alleys for a half hour, breathing the life of the Night Market back into us. I had a feeling Gabriel needed to see the world he protected. To lay eyes upon children running in the dirty streets, hear their laughter. Smell the food of the Spice Distract and feel the heat of the steam on his face. Watch as men and women strolled together under amber lights. Happy. Content. He needed something to wash away the screams that still haunted our thoughts.
“He wasn’t always like that,” Gabriel said, his voice flat. “When I had first come to the market, Elias was not this way.”
I felt my words choke in my throat. What had to happen to a man that made them become such a thing as we just saw?
“Celestials are raised in the love of the Knowing. They live in perfection. Their purpose is to serve others. To be kind and selfless. And in return, we are wrapped in love and protection. You must understand, $name, if you have only ever known the languid comfort of that embrace, to suddenly be cut off from it is jarring. Most celestials do not recover if they fall. Their mind is riddled with madness, and they succumb to horrors that are hard to ever truly understand. Most do it in the name of the Knowing. Sometimes as penance. Sometimes as a way to get back there. Elias…” Gabriel swallowed. “He just lost his way.”
[[That was a little more than losing his way]]
[[What he did was abhorrent]]
[[I am so sorry that this has happened to you]]“That was a little more than losing your way, Gabriel,” I said softly. He knew my words to be true. It didn’t make them any less painful to hear. He was the Warden. He was supposed to protect people from the likes of Elias. But he had yet to come to terms with the fact that the man who had clearly meant so much to him, was now the monster lurking in the blinding lights he had once called home.
The alleyway turned quiet, the cobblestones beneath our feet cleaner. I almost wished for the dirt and the soot of the market. They were all now signs of life. Little reminders that people lived in this world and that life was dirty and messy but always prevailed.
“Is that what could happen to you?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t know how I would handle if the light went out in Gabriel’s eyes like that.
Gabriel shook his head. “No. No I don’t believe the madness has a hold on me.” Reaching into his pocket, he took out the glowing shard that he sometimes fiddled with. “A celestials grace is what keeps them from going mad. Elias was able to conserve his for quite some time when he first came to the Night Market. It still hurt to be cut off from the Knowing, but he could manage due to what he had. But then I fell and he wished to heal me. He did not handle my suffering well. Grace for a Fallen is finite. He used too much of it and the madness took hold.”
“Is that his?”
“No.” Gabriel rolled the stone around in his hand thoughtfully. “It’s not mine either. It is a shard that was gifted to me by a Graceling.”
“Graceling?”
“Someone so devout to the Knowing that they are gifted a shard of grace. Graceling’s are rare. Often times they are hunted. Celestial grace is a commodity, I’m afraid. This shard was given to me and I was able to graft to it as if it were my own. It’s the only thing that keeps the madness away.”
“So you should never lose that.”
He laughed a bit at that, and the relief it brought me was palpable. “Yes. I suppose I never should.”
[[Next|Chapter Eight Gabriel 2]]
“Gabriel, what he did, what he is doing, is abhorrent. You know that right?”
He said nothing, but it was clear he did not disagree.
“You can’t let that continue,” I told him. “You just can’t.”
But again, he said nothing. He was the Warden. He was supposed to protect people from the likes of Elias. But he had yet to come to terms with the fact that the man who had clearly meant so much to him, was now the monster lurking in the blinding lights he had once called home.
The alleyway turned quiet, the cobblestones beneath our feet cleaner. I almost wished for the dirt and the soot of the market. They were all now signs of life. Little reminders that people lived in this world and that life was dirty and messy but still prevailed.
“Is that what could happen to you?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t know how I would handle if the light went out in Gabriel’s eyes like that.
Gabriel shook his head. “No. No I don’t believe the madness has a hold on me.” Reaching into his pocket, he took out the glowing shard that he sometimes fiddled with. “A celestials grace is what keeps them from going mad. Elias was able to conserve his for quite some time when he first came to the Night Market. It still hurt to be cut off from the Knowing, but he could manage due to what he had. But then I fell and he wished to heal me. He did not handle my suffering well. Grace for a Fallen is finite. He used too much of it and the madness took hold.”
“Is that his?”
“No.” Gabriel rolled the stone around in his hand thoughtfully. “It’s not mine either. It is a shard that was gifted to me by a Graceling.”
“Graceling?”
“Someone so devout to the Knowing that they are gifted a shard of grace. Graceling’s are rare. Often times they are hunted. Celestial grace is a commodity, I’m afraid. This shard was given to me and I was able to graft to it as if it were my own. It’s the only thing that keeps the madness away.”
“So you should never lose that.”
He laughed a bit at that, and the relief it brought me was palpable. “Yes. I suppose I never should.”
[[Next|Chapter Eight Gabriel 2]]
Reaching out, I took his hand, holding it within mine. I could feel his fingers twitch, as if they were unused to the affection and comfort in the action.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to him. “I can’t even imagine how all of that must have made you feel.”
I watched as he swallowed thickly, saying nothing to me. But when he squeezed my hand a bit tighter, I gripped him back, refusing to let him go now that he was in my hold.
The alleyway turned quiet, the cobblestones beneath our feet cleaner. I almost wished for the dirt and the soot of the market. They were all now signs of life. Little reminders that people lived in this world and that life was dirty and messy but still prevailed.
“Is that what could happen to you?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t know how I would handle if the light went out in Gabriel’s eyes like that.
Gabriel shook his head. “No. No I don’t believe the madness has a hold on me.” Reaching into his pocket, he took out the glowing shard that he sometimes fiddled with. “A celestial's grace is what keeps them from going mad. Elias was able to conserve his for quite some time when he first came to the Night Market. It still hurt to be cut off from the Knowing, but he could manage due to what he had. But then I fell and he wished to heal me. He did not handle my suffering well. Grace for a Fallen is finite. He used too much of it and the madness took hold.”
“Is that his?”
“No.” Gabriel rolled the stone around in his hand thoughtfully. “It’s not mine either. It is a shard that was gifted to me by a Graceling.”
“Graceling?”
“Someone so devout to the Knowing that they are gifted a shard of grace. Graceling’s are rare. Often times they are hunted. Celestial grace is a commodity, I’m afraid. This shard was given to me and I was able to graft to it as if it were my own. It’s the only thing that keeps the madness away.”
“So you should never lose that.”
He laughed a bit at that, and the relief it brought me was palpable. “Yes. I suppose I never should.”
[[Next|Chapter Eight Gabriel 2]]
Turning a corner I blinked at the unfamiliar sight. Nondescript doors lined the street. The walls were not as tall here and I could see small homes built into the sides of them. Occasionally, one of the doors contained a wreath, or a potted plant on the stoop. Something to denote it from all the other ones that stretched out in an endless line. Gabriel walked up to one of these nondescript doors, pausing outside of it. “I’m afraid I was not expecting company tonight. I can always take you back to Ms. Albright’s. I think my feet just carried me here.”
“Is this your home?”
“Yes.”
His tone sounded so despondent I didn’t think I could in good faith leave him alone tonight. Or at least not for the next few hours. “I would love to come inside.”
Bending towards me, he kissed me softly on the lips, hovering there for quite some time. Despite not having seen him cry, I could still taste the salt on his lips. <<if $pits == "true">> The action itself startled me. I was not used to softness when it came to Gabriel and I felt a small part of the icey opinion I had of him, melt a bit further.<</if>>
When he opened the door, I expected darkness. Instead, the room was lit up. A minimalistic living space, just as I expected, decorated in deep blues and blacks. Balls of light hovered in the corners, containing swirling cosmos and lighting the room in a soft grey. As if dawn was permanently rising.
A man stood in the middle of the living room. His skin dark and his appearance ragged. Torn pants made of canvas and dirty from a hard day's work, were the only significant amount of clothing on him other than his coat. His chest was laid bare, only concealed by the folds of an open dark leather jacket. Scars crisscrossed against his skin in a methodical pattern, as if they were tattoos laid against him and scarred over.
Gabriel was frozen by my side as the man stepped forward, more into the light. Grey speckled the darkness of his temple, his scruff nearly a week old.
“Reese. What are you doing here?” Gabriel asked.
“A bat told me you were headed out to see Elias.” The voice was a smooth drawl. But I would have known him before he even spoke.
Stepping forward, Reese looked at him, a broken glint to his face. “I’m so sorry, son.” Without saying anything, he pulled Gabriel into a one-armed hug, tugging him forward and dragging his head down, so Gabriel’s forehead rested upon his shoulder. I watched Gabriel, his body stiff and unmoving, much like it had been when Elias had first hugged him.
But then, his broad frame sagged. Slowly, as if they were weighted down, Gabriel’s own arms came up to encircle Reese in a return embrace.
“He is so lost.” I heard him whisper.
“He is not the man that loved you,” Reese said fiercely, his grip tightening on his son. I watched Gabriel nod against his shoulder.
When Gabriel pulled away, I watched him walk forward, keeping his back to me as he regained himself. Reese looked at me though with a crooked grin. “So you’re the one I’m hearin’ all about.” Holding out his hand, he grabbed mine in a firm shake. “You takin’ care of my boy?”
[[Absolutely I am]]
[[(joke)He makes it difficult but I like a challenge]]
[[We take care of each other]]
<<if $pits == "true">>[[(joke)Only when he's not trying to throw me in a pit]]<</if>>“Absolutely, I am,” I told the man. I had a feeling that if I didn’t at this point, this man would have no qualms of removing me from the home all together.
“Knew I could count on you,” he said with a grin. The sharp edges of his teeth glinted in the light. “Now, what do you all say to drinking.”
“No drinking in my home,” Gabriel said. “You break things when you do.”
“Aw, come on. I’m an old man. Shouldn’t you be more lenient by now?”
“No.”
I watched as the two of them stood there, Gabriel getting out a bottle of wine, Reese demanding whiskey, the room being filled with a familial warmth. It was a different side to Gabriel but one that I was finding he slipped into with ease once the shroud of the Warden was gone.
“Alright, you two look like you’ve been through it tonight so I’ll cook. My treat. Plus, I fucking hate Gabriel’s cooking. Don’t let him cook for you, $name. Not worth it. Not even in the slightest.” Gabriel shook his head but the smile that was upon him at the ribbing was priceless. As Reese rolled up the sleeves of his coat, heading to Gabriel’s kitchen, I spied the black ink, faded upon his arm.
It was of an anchor, lightening cracking above and through the twisted iron. The same sigil that was on the ring Billows had given us already.
“$name,” Gabriel said, drawing my eyes to him. “Would you like to sit with me on the sofa while we make Reese actually do something with his life?” There was a half smile there, waiting for me. I glanced at Reese’s tattoo once more, but decided to keep my mouth shut.
“Yes,” I told him. “Just take a break, okay? No matter what he does, just sit with me.”
Stepping forward, Gabriel folded me into his arms, breathing in the scent of me. I held him tightly, feeling myself melt against him as well, my heart matching with the beat buried beneath his own chest.
In the kitchen, Reese began to bang pots and pans, demanding whiskey once more. But Gabriel didn’t move. Instead, he stayed, curled against my warmth, as the two of us banished the horrors of the day with the comfort and love that filled his home. It was the only way I wanted to end my day.
[[Interlude - Continue to talk to Gabriel]]
or
[[Chapter Nine]]“He makes it nearly impossible to,” I teased. “But I like a challenge.”
Reese’s bark of laughter in response was one that filled me with warmth. “Oh, you got a spine. I like it. Now, what do you all say to drinking.”
“No drinking in my home,” Gabriel said. “You break things when you do.”
“Aw, come on. I’m an old man. Shouldn’t you be more lenient by now?”
“No.”
I watched as the two of them stood there, Gabriel getting out a bottle of wine, Reese demanding whiskey, the room being filled with a familial warmth. It was a different side to Gabriel but one that I was finding he slipped into with ease once the shroud of the Warden was gone.
“Alright, you two look like you’ve been through it tonight so I’ll cook. My treat. Plus, I fucking hate Gabriel’s cooking. Don’t let him cook for you, $name. Not worth it. Not even in the slightest.” Gabriel shook his head but the smile that was upon him at the ribbing was priceless. As Reese rolled up the sleeves of his coat, heading to Gabriel’s kitchen, I spied the black ink, faded upon his arm.
It was of an anchor, lightening cracking above and through the twisted iron. The same sigil that was on the ring Billows had given us already.
“$name,” Gabriel said, drawing my eyes to him. “Would you like to sit with me on the sofa while we make Reese actually do something with his life?” There was a half smile there, waiting for me. I glanced at Reese’s tattoo once more, but decided to keep my mouth shut.
“Yes,” I told him. “Just take a break, okay? No matter what he does, just sit with me.”
Stepping forward, Gabriel folded me into his arms, breathing in the scent of me. I held him tightly, feeling myself melt against him as well, my heart matching with the beat buried beneath his own chest.
In the kitchen, Reese began to bang pots and pans, demanding whiskey once more. But Gabriel didn’t move. Instead, he stayed, curled against my warmth, as the two of us banished the horrors of the day with the comfort and love that filled his home. It was the only way I wanted to end my day.
[[Interlude - Continue to talk to Gabriel]]
or
[[Chapter Nine]]“We take care of each other,” I said sincerely. Reese rolled his eyes at the words but winked at me all the same.
“A sap then. Just like you,” he told Gabriel. “I’ll take it. Now what do you all say to drinking.”
“No drinking in my home,” Gabriel said. “You break things when you do.”
“Aw, come on. I’m an old man. Shouldn’t you be more lenient by now?”
“No.”
I watched as the two of them stood there, Gabriel getting out a bottle of wine, Reese demanding whiskey, the room being filled with a familial warmth. It was a different side to Gabriel but one that I was finding he slipped into with ease once the shroud of the Warden was gone.
“Alright, you two look like you’ve been through it tonight so I’ll cook. My treat. Plus, I fucking hate Gabriel’s cooking. Don’t let him cook for you, $name. Not worth it. Not even in the slightest.” Gabriel shook his head but the smile that was upon him at the ribbing was priceless. As Reese rolled up the sleeves of his coat, heading to Gabriel’s kitchen, I spied the black ink, faded upon his arm.
It was of an anchor, lightening cracking above and through the twisted iron. The same sigil that was on the ring Billows had given us already.
“$name,” Gabriel said, drawing my eyes to him. “Would you like to sit with me on the sofa while we make Reese actually do something with his life?” There was a half smile there, waiting for me. I glanced at Reese’s tattoo once more, but decided to keep my mouth shut.
“Yes,” I told him. “Just take a break, okay? No matter what he does, just sit with me.”
Stepping forward, Gabriel folded me into his arms, breathing in the scent of me. I held him tightly, feeling myself melt against him as well, my heart matching with the beat buried beneath his own chest.
In the kitchen, Reese began to bang pots and pans, demanding whiskey once more. But Gabriel didn’t move. Instead, he stayed, curled against my warmth, as the two of us banished the horrors of the day with the comfort and love that filled his home. It was the only way I wanted to end my day.
[[Interlude - Continue to talk to Gabriel]]
or
[[Chapter Nine]]
<<set $harbormaster to "true">><img src="images/Ch8.png"
height="300" width="900">
I woke up the next morning with a slow blink, alone in my bed. <<if $belladonnaro == "true">>The rose was still on my dresser, in full bloom, smelling sweetly of a distant garden and burnt sugar.<</if>> Outside, the bows of the tree that shadowed my window were covered in frost and despite the quilts that I had piled upon me, it was unusually cold. Frowning, I wrapped the blanket tighter around my shoulders as I shimmied over to the window, looking out into the herb garden below. I could see Hazel. She was picking some of the mint. Frost covered the ground and the wisps looked as if they were shaking off little bits of snow.
“Huh,” I breathed. I hadn’t even been aware the Night Market could change seasons or what that would mean for the realm. I shivered, considering going to the fashion district at some point today to pick up another coat. Or, I could just stay in bed.
Flopping back down onto my pillows, I winced. Hazel had come into my room late last night and roused me, forcing me to drink a few tonics that took care of the aches and pains that shot through me. Any wounds I may have obtained in the Deep were now distant memories. I was surprised that nightmares of that dark and desolate place did not haunt me during my rest. Although, I wouldn’t have put it past Hazel to have slipped something in her tonics to make me sleep peacefully.
Downstairs, I could hear the back door open and close, signalling Hazel coming inside. I could hear her rummaging and knew I should get down there too. The others needed to be called. I needed to tell them what had happened down below. We had to keep pressing forward.
But my head hurt and I only wanted to sleep. That, and I was kind of done barreling headlong into danger when it came to the Barons. Going forward, I couldn’t do this any longer. I couldn’t just keep walking into the lion's den and hoping for a different result.
When the distant chime of the apothecaries front door chimed, I groaned into my pillow. Either it was a customer or Milo, like it was most mornings. Either way, it was enough to prompt me to get up and get dressed. There would be time for sleep eventually.
I hoped.
Getting dressed, I took my time. My muscles protested a bit as I slid on my clothes, donning extra layers in hopes of staving off some of the cold. Some mornings, I would go downstairs, my feet still bare. I was pulling on an extra pair of socks this morning though, before pulling on my boots as well.
As I began to walk downstairs, I could hear muffled conversation. Two low voices, caught in a heated discussion. I frowned as I pushed open the door. Hazel and Milo stood close together, heads ducked low as they kept their tones quiet.
[[Next|Chapter Eight B\P]]
“You’re not seriously going to do this, are you?” Milo was looking at Hazel incredulously, the two of them gathered around the small table off to the right. A breakfast stew was bubbling on the hearth and bowls were set out for more than just the three of us. I was almost certain Hazel would have already called Belladonna and Gabriel here.
“It was him, Milo. I know it was,” she whispered.
“No, you know what a seer told you. You don’t know anything for sure, Hazel. You may be willing to take the word of a stranger but I am not.”
Hazel looked irritated, matching Milo’s scowl, but she was trying to keep her voice calm. “I know what I saw, Milo. And the fact that you won’t believe me is starting to hurt far more than it ever did in the beginning when we truly did have nothing to go on.”
“This is far bigger than whether or not I believe you,” he hissed. “You know that.”
“What is that even supposed to mean? You either believe me or you do not but for you to sit here and constantly accuse me–”
“Where are all the birds, Hazel?” Milo asked. “That back area near the creek used to be full of wildlife. Where are they?” She froze at his question, her eyes staring at him as he challenged her. The two of them refusing to even breathe.
When the front door dinged, I jumped. Gabriel stepped through, dressed in a heavier cloak to beat back the cold, his hair slicked back and eyes piercing like normal. When they fell upon Hazel and Milo, he merely nodded to them. It was me, hovering near the back of the shop, that gave him pause.
“Good morning,” he said in greeting. Both Milo and Hazel followed his gaze and stepped apart. Though I could tell that the conversation was far from over. “I heard from Caliban that you made it safely out of the Deep. It was an odd discussion though I am happy to hear that you are for the most part okay.” He frowned as he looked at the few bruises and cuts still littering my skin. “Though I suppose his definition of okay and mine are a tad different.”
Normally, I would have responded to that, but with what I had just walked in on, I didn’t think I could. Hazel moved as if she were going to go stir the stew, but Milo’s eyes were following her, his fists twitching at his side.
“Did I interrupt something,” Gabriel asked, clearly reading the room.
I swallowed. “We may have made contact with Malcolm in the Deep,” I answered for them. It was probably better that it was all out on the table now.
“You can’t know that,” Milo said frustrated. Normally, Hazel would stay quiet but whatever had happened in the Deep had lit a renewed fire in her when it came to her brother. Now, she whirled on Milo instead.
“And you can’t know that we are even wrong,” she snapped.
“Right or wrong isn’t really the issue here,” he told her. “It’s what you are doing that bothers me far more.”
[[Hazel, what is he talking about?]]
[[Milo, leave her alone]]
[[Maybe we should table this for now]]
I made myself scarce, not able to leave the room entirely but also not interrupting whatever it was they had to say. Maybe it was time. An argument had been brewing between them for a few weeks and now, it looked as if it were about to tip over the edge.
“You really think I’m not concerned?” Milo asked, voice flat. “After the amount of times I watched you slice open your own hand, trying to call him home, you think I don’t have concern?”
“For where he is?” she challenged. “No.”
The empty bowl of stew shattered across the shop as Milo picked it up and threw it. “I don’t give a fuck about Malcolm. He made his fucking choice in all of this. What I do give a shit about though, is you.”
Hazel did not cower. She did not run like I thought she would in the face of his anger. Instead, she slowly rose, eyes tipping into a storm, as she looked at him. “If you care so deeply about me then you would have helped me all these years. You would have been by my side to get him back.”
“I was!” he shouted. “I was here, Hazel. But I’m not about to let you dive headfirst into the same bullshit your mother used to do for a man that didn’t even bother to tell us he was the fucking Gatekeeper. And have you ever thought about that? Have you ever for one second stopped to think about why he didn’t say a word to you? Because I can guarantee you it wasn’t just so he had a fun little secret or so he could follow some bullshit Baron rules. He knew what you were capable of and the last thing he wanted was for you to be doing your black magic shit in relation to him at all.”
“Well he doesn’t really get a choice in that, does he?” Hazel said. Something shifted in her tone. An echo of sorts pounded through her words as the apothecary began to creak around us. My eyes flicked down towards the flooring as sickening green light shown through the cracks. “And it doesn’t matter, Milo. Whether it is his wishes or not, I will be getting him back.”
“And what if he doesn’t want to, huh? You go around playing the martyr card. Look how loving and devoted you are. You’d do anything to get your brother home. Yet, I seem to be the only fucking one following his wishes. He didn’t like any of this shit. And he certainly didn’t like you using it. You think he’d be happy knowing you're using your mother's books to try and find him? He is at peace, Hazel. Leave him the fuck alone.”
Behind the counter, the tonics that were lined so prettily burst. They exploded into the air and then froze, an array of shattered glass floating weightless within the dark confines of the shop. Hazel’s eyes were made of pitch now, tears of black streaming down her cheeks. I could see her hands shake at her side, the same light from beneath the floorboards dripping from her fingertips.
[[Hazel, you need to calm down]]
[[Milo, you need to calm down]]
[[Both of you need to knock this off now]]
[[Please, we don't have time for this]]The two of them were beginning to concern me. The dark threads wrapping around Hazel’s eyes and the dip to Milo’s voice were all foreign. I didn’t like them when placed on their own but when directed towards each other, it put me on edge.
“Maybe this isn’t the time to do this,” I suggested. “The Dollmaker sounds like something that needs to be taken care of far sooner than later and I would like to maybe go over that a bit.”
But neither of them were listening to me. As far as I could tell, they didn’t even hear me.
“You really think I’m not concerned?” Milo asked, voice flat. “After the amount of times I watched you slice open your own hand, trying to call him home, you think I don’t have concern?”
“For where he is?” she challenged. “No.”
The empty bowl of stew shattered across the shop as Milo picked it up and threw it. “I don’t give a fuck about Malcolm. He made his fucking choice in all of this. What I do give a shit about though, is you.”
Hazel did not cower. She did not run like I thought she would in the face of his anger. Instead, she slowly rose, eyes tipping into a storm, as she looked at him. “If you care so deeply about me then you would have helped me all these years. You would have been by my side to get him back.”
“I was!” he shouted. “I was here, Hazel. But I’m not about to let you dive headfirst into the same bullshit your mother used to do for a man that didn’t even bother to tell us he was the fucking Gatekeeper. And have you ever thought about that? Have you ever for one second stopped to think about why he didn’t say a word to you? Because I can guarantee you it wasn’t just so he had a fun little secret or so he could follow some bullshit Baron rules. He knew what you were capable of and the last thing he wanted was for you to be doing your black magic shit in relation to him at all.”
“Well he doesn’t really get a choice in that, does he?” Hazel said. Something shifted in her tone. An echo of sorts pounded through her words as the apothecary began to creak around us. My eyes flicked down towards the flooring as sickening green light shown through the cracks. “And it doesn’t matter, Milo. Whether it is his wishes or not, I will be getting him back.”
“And what if he doesn’t want to, huh? You go around playing the martyr card. Look how loving and devoted you are. You’d do anything to get your brother home. Yet, I seem to be the only fucking one following his wishes. He didn’t like any of this shit. And he certainly didn’t like you using it. You think he’d be happy knowing you're using your mother's books to try and find him? He is at peace, Hazel. Leave him the fuck alone.”
Behind the counter, the tonics that were lined so prettily burst. They exploded into the air and then froze, an array of shattered glass floating weightless within the dark confines of the shop. Hazel’s eyes were made of pitch now, tears of black streaming down her cheeks. I could see her hands shake at her side, the same light from beneath the floorboards dripping from her fingertips.
[[Hazel, you need to calm down]]
[[Milo, you need to calm down]]
[[Both of you need to knock this off now]]
[[Please, we don't have time for this]]“Hazel.” Tentatively, I stepped forward, my hand out. “You need to calm down, okay?” There was nothing of the woman I knew behind her eyes. They were dark, and her face was contorted in a fury I didn’t know she was capable of. The bog witch at the end of the burnt out alley. That’s who I was seeing now. The one who was whispered about throughout the market.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>But I didn’t want it to be her. I wanted Hazel back. My Hazel. “Come on, honey,” I called out to her. “Just focus on me. We can talk about this.”<</if>>
I positioned my body between her and Milo, trying to cut off her field of view. Shards of glass were swirling around her head, a storm colliding behind her. The distant moans of something unseen sounded in the distance and I knew, unless we got her under control, we would have an entirely different set of problems on our hands.
“Hazel, I need you to come down from this,” I implored. “We can talk about all of this. Just you and I, if you want. But right now, I need you.” Swallowing, I reached out for her, not touching, not yet. My hand just hovering. “Hazel, I have to go to another Baron tonight. I need your support. Please. I need to know that you’re okay. That you’ll be here when I get back.”
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Something flickered in her eyes. A familiarity of sorts. “Sweetheart,” I said softly, “I need you right now. We are in this fight together, remember? I need you to come back to me.”<</if>>
Behind her, the glass fell. It shattered to the ground in a burst of finely ground sand while the shadows receded once more with a hiss. Hazel slumped a little, head dipping down as she panted, trying to catch her breath. When she looked back up at me, I could see the confusion in her eyes. And then the horror. She began looking around the shop, taking in the broken bits of flooring that had split during the chaos. The way Milo stood on the other side, eyes closed as he breathed tiredly through the come down. And me, standing in the midst of it all.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>I didn’t wait. Rushing towards her, I pulled her in my arms, feeling as she cried against my shoulder. She clung to me, her body trembling as I soothingly ran a hand down her back, shushing her.<</if>>
The shop was filled with the sound of her soft cries and from the counter, I could see Mr. Billows peek out, mewing softly at the sight of her in distress.
When Milo laid a hand on her back, I shot him a warning look. He shook his head though and I doubted he wanted this any more than I did.
“Haze,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I–” he swallowed thickly. “We’ll talk about this, yeah? Civilly. We’ll… we’ll figure out how to get him back together, maybe?” His words sounded hollow to my ears but they were what she needed so I didn’t call him out on it. The fact was, we had bigger problems at hand and while I wanted to hold her for the rest of the day, evening was looming.
“Let’s get $name prepared for tonight,” Milo said, his hand still on her back. “After that, you and I will drink and talk.”
She turned her head so it rolled against my chest, eyeing him cautiously. “You mean it?”
“Never lie, do I?” The smile he gave her was watery but I felt her sag in my arms.
[[Next|Chapter Eight M\H]]“Milo,” I turned to him, knowing that if I didn’t intervene, this could get far worse than it already was. “You need to calm her down,” I told him. When his eyes flicked to me, I tried to pour every ounce of desperation I felt into my eyes. “She needs you to understand her right now, Milo. Not be her enemy.”
“I’m not the fucking bad guy here!” he shouted. “I am trying to do what’s right. I am trying to make sure that we get out of this alive. And I can’t do that if she is back here, bleeding the damn animals dry in an attempt to get her brother back. Do you know what that’s doing, $name? The tears and the instability that is within the market proper, you think this doesn’t have an effect on it?”
“I don’t know what it does, Milo. But I know right now that this is not our Hazel.” The crackling of magic that bounced between her fingers, the way her gaze bore into him and her chest rose and fell with anguished breath. That wasn’t the girl with the soft spun smile and the beautiful soul. But I knew I wasn’t going to be the one to reach her. Milo was the only one who could.
“Help her,” I urged.
“I–” he looked wildly about and for one moment I saw the storm that flickered around him. It was an oncoming cloud of darkness that hovered over his head, the echoes of his own scream rolling like thunder through the bleak. Milo looked small and afraid and the world was suddenly morphing and twisting into darkness and he couldn’t find it in himself to claw his way out. But he had to. As he looked at me, he knew he had to.
Stepping forward, Milo hardened his gaze and grabbed Hazel by the shoulders, tipping his forehead against her.
“No more,” he told her sharply. “This isn’t us. It’s always been you and I, Hazel. The two of us against the world. I’m not going to let you slip into your mother's insanity.” His voice dipped down towards grief. “I promised Malcolm I’d take care of you,” he said, voice cracking. “Just let me take care of you.”
For a moment, the world felt frozen. The shards of glass that were hovering in the air crystallized and the shadows that had been looming in each corner were nothing but black smudges across the walls. The glass shattered to the ground in a finely ground sheen of dust and the magic bolting across Hazel’s fingertips guttered out.
The sob that burst from her throat was ragged as she slumped against him and Milo gathered her close. From where I stood, I breathed a sigh of relief, closing my eyes as I listened to him gently shush her while she continued to cry into his shoulder.
I didn’t know how long we sat there in the aftermath. I could see Billows pacing nervously, mewing insistently at Hazel to see if she was okay. When Hazel and Milo finally did separate, it was to whispered words and a promise to talk a bit later. Hazel couldn’t quite meet my eye and Milo kept a firm hand around her, not forcing her to.
When they settled down across from me, it was with a tired sigh.
I blinked at them, knowing that I was going to have to leave before this was wholly resolved and that I needed to put this moment aside for now. As much as I wanted to stay and help, I had a dinner to attend and it was not one that was destined to be kind.
“Tell me what you both know about the Dollmaker,” I said tiredly. I wanted to say no to the dinner. To stay with the two of them in a soft moment of quiet and make sure they were alright. But time did not allow that luxury.
[[Next|Chapter Eight M\H]]“Both of you need to knock this off right now,” I shouted.
For a moment, the world felt frozen. The shards of glass that were hovering in the air crystallized and the shadows that had been looming in each corner were nothing but black smudges across the walls. Hazel was panting heavily and Milo was looking at her with a cloud of rage thudding loudly against his chest.
But as I spoke, my words penetrating their own, something happened. The world around us gave one brief pulse, and then it fell.
The glass shattered to the ground in a finely ground sheen of dust and the magic bolting across Hazel’s fingertips guttered out. Milo turned away. The surrounding air became breathable once more. And silence, prevailed.
I stared between the two of them, my eyes wide. “I understand that this situation is a lot more for you two than it is anyone else. And I have been more than supportive from the beginning. I have listened to you two. I have wanted to help. But this,” I motioned between them. “This is not going to be happening. In a few hours, I have to walk into some place called the Dollmakers. I have to do that. Me. So have your argument and destroy the shop then but until then, you two either need to help me prepare for what's about to happen, or go your separate ways so I can find someone that can.”
A soft cry fell from Hazel’s throat as she looked at me, her hand covering her lips. Her eyes were the gold green that I was used to now and as she looked at me, shaking her head, I heard the intake of breath that rattled her lungs as she looked around the shop to see what she had done.
And as for Milo, his head was bowed, his gaze adverted.
“This is a dangerous game we are all playing,” I told the two of them. “I understand that Malcolm is important, but he isn’t here. I am. And if the two of you keep up the way you are, then what happened ten years ago to him, is probably going to happen to me.”
Milo was the first to speak. His voice sounded tired and I was unsure if he was drained or simply ashamed for his actions.
“Sit,” he told me. “We can fill you in on what we know.” When his eyes ticked up towards Hazel, I watched the pain fill his gaze. Walking over, he took her hand, tugging her close.
[[Next|Chapter Eight M\H]]“Please,” I begged. “We don’t have time for this.” The market was splitting. The world and the people in it were going to cease to exist if we did not attend to the situation with the Barons. And the more we all sat and fought with each other, whether it be Hazel or Milo, or Gabriel and Belladonna, the more the likelihood was that we were going to fail. “We have to work together,” I continued. “I need you both.”
It was a sentiment that snapped something sharp through the room. As if they had both forgotten I had been there and my desperate pleading with them was echoing across a foggy expanse. But it was reaching them. I could tell they were both beginning to listen.
I stared between the two of them, my eyes wide. “I understand that this situation is a lot more for you two than it is anyone else. And I have been more than supportive from the beginning. I have listened to you two. I have wanted to help. But this,” I motioned between them. “This will end up killing us.”
The glass shattered to the ground in a finely ground sheen of dust and the magic bolting across Hazel’s fingertips guttered out. Milo turned away. The air around us became breathable once more. And silence, prevailed.
A soft cry fell from Hazel’s throat as she looked at me, her hand covering her lips. Her eyes were the gold green that I was used to now and as she looked at me, shaking her head, I heard the intake of breath that rattled her lungs as she looked around the shop to see what she had done.
And as for Milo, his head was bowed, his gaze adverted.
“I almost died down in the Deep,” I told the two of them. “I understand that Malcolm is important, but he isn’t here. I am. And if the two of you keep up the way you are, then what happened ten years ago to him, is probably going to happen to me.”
Milo was the first to speak. His voice sounded tired and I was unsure if he was drained or simply ashamed for his actions.
“Sit,” he told me. “We can fill you in on what we know.” When his eyes ticked up towards Hazel, I watched the pain fill his gaze. Walking over, he took her hand, tugging her close.
[[Next|Chapter Eight M\H]]Collectively, what they knew, was not a lot. Belladonna had come back in after the air had settled, and filled us in on as much as she could.
The Dollmaker was a fallen angel. Something similar to what Gabriel was, in fact. He was a Baron that the other Barons kept at arms length. He valued the idea of perfection above all else. Under no circumstances were we supposed to talk about love in his presence, or call attention to anything flawed we may see. While Belladonna was understanding over the issue of obviously not wanting to agree with a mad man, she cautioned me to become adept at turning the other cheek. Or flat out lying. The goal here was to gain his favor. All we had to do was show up, have dinner, and leave.
This, unfortunately, was going to fall on Gabriel much more than it was going to fall on me. A fact that only made me feel marginally better.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> When Belladonna left, Milo excused himself, giving both Hazel and I a moment. We sat on the couch in the otherwise quiet apothecary, Mr. Billows curled next to Hazel, purring.
“Are you alright?” I asked. Her head was tipped to my shoulder, her eyes half shut and still red and puffy from crying.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
I reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t need you to apologize. I just think I might need a little bit more of an explanation,” I said. Everything that had happened was going to take a while for me to sort through, but seeing her like that was not something I was bound to forget any time soon.
“I lost control,” she whispered. “It doesn’t happen often but when Milo threw that bowl, I saw red.”
There were so many questions I wanted to ask. Not just to find out if she was okay but to understand what exactly was going on. Because I knew it was far greater than what I could understand, but at the same time, Hazel was still shaking at my side. Still vulnerable. The last thing I wanted was for her to sink further into pain.
“Will you be okay if I leave to take care of the Baron situation?”
It took her a moment, but she did nod. “Milo and I need to speak,” she said. “We probably should have spoken a long time ago. But, can you…” she trailed off.
“Can I what?” I gently prodded.
Tipping her head up to me, she swallowed nervously. “Can you just hold me for a while? I don’t want the shop to feel empty just yet. It always does when you’re not here.”
Without hesitation, I pulled her close, firmly wrapping myself around her. If I held her too tight, she didn’t say a word. Instead, she buried herself against me, still trembling, while I looked out over the mess that lay in wake of her destruction. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> When Belladonna left, Hazel excused herself. She left to go look at the frost gathering in the back garden, leaving both Milo and I sitting on the sofas in the ruins of the argument that had happened. Glass still littered the floor. Tonics were completely destroyed. And the breakfast bowl that Milo had thrown, still lay in ruin across the shop.
“What happened?” I asked him quietly.
He had his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples. “I lost it,” he said. “I’ve just been seeing the signs for weeks but I had hoped she was pulling herself out of it. But today, when we came here and I didn’t hear a damn bird I just…” Flopping back into the sofa, he shook his head, almost disbelieving. “Her mother was powerful. And terrifying. Mal used to tell me shit Lucinda would do all the time and he did everything he could to keep Hazel from it. If he knew what she was doing now…” he trailed off. It didn’t need to be said. The fact that he was even sharing it was more than I had gotten from him before.
Reaching out, I took his hand in mine, squeezing it tightly. “Are you alright?”
He laughed bitterly. “No. No I am decidedly not. Hazel is doing shit she shouldn’t. My ex lover might be hovering in the fucking ether out there. Gates are opening randomly. The market is dying and you…” he flinched. “You are going to be walking into the Dollmaker’s estate.”
Curling myself against him, I felt as he wrapped an arm around me, holding me close. “I’ll come home,” I told him.
He nodded tightly. “You better.”
Much like we had that morning, we sat in the silence. The two of us holding each other, desperately trying to keep the other from flying apart in the wake of the chaos.<</if>>
[[Next|Elias Converge]]Gabriel ran a hand across his face, the dread suddenly much clearer than it had been when standing in the apothecary. “If you’ll both excuse me, I wish to go take care of a few things before this evening.” Turning to me, he bowed his head slightly. “I will be back to accompany you tonight, $name. Please get some rest before then.”
I tried to give him an encouraging smile before he went but felt my stomach clench a little at the blankness that had washed over his face. I watched as he left the garden, exiting through the moss covered arches and down the burnt out alley. Belladonna made no move to leave and instead, stood among Hazel’s herb patch, looking at the garden with a frown.
“Well, this isn’t aesthetically pleasing,” she kicked at the overgrown mint plant, stepping away from it like it might bite. When her face turned to mine, it was a hardened mask, devoid of the emotion that had been there before and much more akin to the woman who had walked away from me the previous night. “What can I do for you, dear heart?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I was honestly coming out here to check on you.”
“Did you already forget about our conversation last night? Unless you have coin in hand or have a specific question about how you should be handling this evening, we have nothing to say to each other.”
[[You do not have to be cruel]]
[[I wasn’t aware we now couldn’t be friends]]
[[Is being a bitch the way you drive away everyone you love?]]“I heard you last night, Belladonna,” I said evenly. Her words stung all the same, despite knowing where she stood. “It does not mean you need to be cruel.”
“Cruel?” she narrowed her eyes. “You think this is cruel? Oh, dearie, you have no idea what cruel can actually mean when it comes from me. Don’t test me.”
She should have walked away. Or maybe she was hoping I would. But I felt my feet rooted to the ground as I just continued to stare at her, refusing to hide. I wouldn’t do what she continued to do.
I saw the moment that it hit her. That I wasn’t going to move. I could see anger flash behind her eyes and the words that were biting and unkind, ready like poison on her lips.
“Why are you pushing me away?” I asked before she could speak. It cut her off. Her mouth opened and then closed quietly. Her eyes ticked away.
“I liked you better when you didn’t test me,” she said after a long moment.
[[Stay silent. You pushed her enough]]
[[No you didn’t]]
[[So you would rather me be demure? Or you would rather me lie?]]I held my ground with her, refusing to walk away like I knew she wanted me to do. Something was becoming clear the more I spent time around Belladonna. If something made her uncomfortable, she shoved it away. There was no room in her life for discomfort. There was no room for things and people who made her have to sort through the muck that was life. She was denoting my feelings to such things as well.
“I wasn’t aware we couldn’t be friends,” I told her. Her position was clear. So was mine. But I didn’t believe that it meant we couldn’t still be around each other.
“Friends?” she laughed. “Oh, dearie. Is that what you want now? Can’t have me so you choose instead for the paltry offerings of my presence?”
I shifted on my feet at her twist on the situation. I knew very well what she was doing and why. It still didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. “Stop pushing me away. I’ve done nothing to deserve that,” I told her.
The fight bled from her then, falling from her shoulders in one long line or irritation. For once, her cheeks were red with exertion, her chest heaving with her words. Looking at me out of the corner of her eye, she crossed her arms in front of her. “I liked you better when you didn’t challenge me.”
[[Stay silent. You pushed her enough]]
[[No you didn’t]]
[[So you would rather me be demure? Or you would rather me lie?]]I cocked my head to the side, thinking of the rose that was still up in my room, perched upon my dresser. “Tell me,” I said. “Is being a bitch the way you drive away the people you love?”
Her eyes flashed red. A deep burgundy that was the color of old and rusted blood. When her lips twisted into a smile I knew it was not a kind one. “You get one, dear heart. But do not test me again. You will find you do not like it when I lose my control.”
“I would love to see you try. At least then you’d be honest.”
“I have been nothing but honest with you,” she hissed. “How dare you.”
“Who sent me the rose then?”
She froze, eyes narrowing. “I do not know what you are talking about and if you’ll excuse me, I have far better things to do with my time.”
I could feel my own blood boiling at her words. Maybe it was due to the rejection the night before, or perhaps I was reeling from the blatant flip from her concern to the cold hard lines of the courtesan. “You were the one who came here,” I pointed it.
“I did. You know what, you’re right. I did. You should be thanking me. I do not have to be contacting the Barons on your behalf. I do not have to come to this burnt out husk of the world and work with people who would rather spend their time wallowing in their own pain. But I did. And this is the thanks I get.”
“Why’d you do it then?” I asked. “If we are such an inconvenience to you, why did you come here?”
She snorted in laughter, crossing her arms against her chest. “Because I am a fool who has very obviously not learned from her mistakes.” The fight bled from her then, falling from her shoulders in one long line or irritation. For once, her cheeks were red with exertion, her chest heaving with her words. Looking at me out of the corner of her eye, she crossed her arms in front of her. “I liked you better when you didn’t challenge me.”
[[Stay silent. You pushed her enough]]
[[No you didn’t]]
[[So you would rather me be demure? Or you would rather me lie?]]I didn’t respond. I had pushed her enough and I was worried that much more would send her down the alley and away from me for the foreseeable future. Instead, I stayed silent, choosing to wait her out. While I knew Belladonna could easily ice me out, I was also clinging to the very fact that she had not. Not yet.
“Do you want to talk about what happened in there?” I asked her. Whoever this Baron was, the emotions surrounding him were far more charged than any of us had considered. And despite Belladonna being someone who prided herself on not being affected but trivialities of the heart, this was one that still hit closer to home.
“About Elias?” she rolled her eyes. “Not particularly. I try very hard not to think of that child unless I can catch him wandering alone somewhere in the market. Then I will snatch him up and snap his pretty little neck.”
I raised my brow at her. “That’s a bit harsh.”
“You will not think so after you meet him.”
I nodded. It was a sentiment I was almost sure not to look forward to. “You mentioned that you knew the Baron of the Mists. There’s more to that story too, isn’t there.”
“There’s always more to those kinds of stories.”
Looking down at the icy garden, I reached out, running my hand across a frozen leaf. It melted under my touch, the plant shivering a little as it curled in on itself. I made a mental note to tell Hazel that they were cold.
“Look, Belladonna, I know I may have made things awkward last night but I really am here to listen. Besides, aren’t you the one who always claims the more you know, the better?”
She was looking more irritated by the moment, though I figured it was simply because her own teachings were starting to bite her in the ass. A small part of me that I kept protected and locked away, was a little proud of that fact.
“Kavatti was the one who turned me,” she said after a long stretch of time. “I asked her to, in fact. She was sick. Emaciated. Shriveled. Needed blood in order to gain any sort of purchase. We struck a mutual deal with each other. I would let her drain me, and in return, she would help elevate me to Baron. I was not confident in my ability to take one down myself.”
My eyes grew wide. “What? You wanted to become a Baron?”
“I wasn’t well off in the Night Market, $name. I was living on the streets. I barely could do anything to survive. I had not yet turned to the life of a courtesan and I was hungry. She had a belief that my blood could help her gain control over her illness, I knew I would probably not survive the next year. So if I was going to die, I wanted to choose how I was going to go. So I chose the cold kiss of death.” Her face twisted in pain, her fingers tightening against her own arms. “But the bitch betrayed me in the end and took the Baron title from me. Snatched it away from me. Due to her being my maker, and me being ever so young, I was forced to work for her for years.”
[[So not a lot of love for her then]]
[[I am so sorry|Chapter eight I am so sorry]]
[[I don’t think I can imagine you being taken advantage of]]“No you didn’t,” I said.
There was a small chair at the edge of the herb patch. Mr. Billows normally sat on it. Tonight, I took his place.
“Do you want to talk about what happened in there?” I asked her. Whoever this Baron was, the emotions surrounding him were far more charged than any of us had considered. And despite Belladonna being someone who prided herself on not being affected but trivialities of the heart, this was one that still hit closer to home.
“About Elias?” she rolled her eyes. “Not particularly. I try very hard not to think of that child unless I can catch him wandering alone somewhere in the market. Then I will snatch him up and snap his pretty little neck.”
I raised my brow at her. “That’s a bit harsh.”
“You will not think so after you meet him.”
I nodded. It was a sentiment I was almost sure not to look forward to. “You mentioned that you knew the Baron of the Mists. There’s more to that story too, isn’t there.”
“There’s always more to those kinds of stories.”
Looking down at the icy garden, I reached out, running my hand across a frozen leaf. It melted under my touch, the plant shivering a little as it curled in on itself. I made a mental note to tell Hazel that they were cold.
“Look, Belladonna, I know I may have made things awkward last night but I really am here to listen. Besides, aren’t you the one who always claims the more you know, the better?”
She was looking more irritated by the moment, though I figured it was simply because her own teachings were starting to bite her in the ass. A small part of me that I kept protected and locked away, was a little proud of that fact.
“Kavatti was the one who turned me,” she said after a long stretch of time. “I asked her to, in fact. She was sick. Emaciated. Shriveled. Needed blood in order to gain any sort of purchase. We struck a mutual deal with each other. I would let her drain me, and in return, she would help elevate me to Baron. I was not confident in my ability to take one down myself.”
My eyes grew wide. “What? You wanted to become a Baron?”
“I wasn’t well off in the Night Market, $name. I was living on the streets. I barely could do anything to survive. I had not yet turned to the life of a courtesan and I was hungry. She had a belief that my blood could help her gain control over her illness, I knew I would probably not survive the next year. So if I was going to die, I wanted to choose how I was going to go. So I chose the cold kiss of death.” Her face twisted in pain, her fingers tightening against her own arms. “But the bitch betrayed me in the end and took the Baron title from me. Snatched it away from me. Due to her being my maker, and me being ever so young, I was forced to work for her for years.”
[[So not a lot of love for her then]]
[[I am so sorry|Chapter eight I am so sorry]]
[[I don’t think I can imagine you being taken advantage of]]“What do you want, Belladonna? Do you want me to be wilting and demure in this scenario or would you rather me lie and pretend to be someone I’m not.”
Her eyes narrowed. I knew she hated both. She didn’t like weakness and abhorred liars. Her words were designed to hurt and nothing more.
“Be whatever you want, dear heart,” she said with a cruel twist. “I don’t care who it is you enjoy being. It has very little effect on me.”
I looked her up and down. “Clearly.” She was going to dig her heels in, it seemed. “Do you want to talk about what happened in there?” I asked her. Whoever this Baron was, the emotions surrounding him were far more charged than any of us had considered. And despite Belladonna being someone who prided herself on not being affected but trivialities of the heart, this was one that still hit closer to home.
“About Elias?” she rolled her eyes. “Not particularly. I try very hard not to think of that child unless I can catch him wandering alone somewhere in the market. Then I will snatch him up and snap his pretty little neck.”
I raised my brow at her. “That’s a bit harsh.”
“You will not think so after you meet him.”
I nodded. It was a sentiment I was almost sure not to look forward to. “You mentioned that you knew the Baron of the Mists. There’s more to that story too, isn’t there.”
“There’s always more to those kinds of stories.”
Looking down at the icy garden, I reached out, running my hand across a frozen leaf. It melted under my touch, the plant shivering a little as it curled in on itself. I made a mental note to tell Hazel that they were cold.
“Look, Belladonna, I know I may have made things awkward last night but I really am here to listen. Besides, aren’t you the one who always claims the more you know, the better?”
She was looking more irritated by the moment, though I figured it was simply because her own teachings were starting to bite her in the ass. A small part of me that I kept protected and locked away, was a little proud of that fact.
“Kavatti was the one who turned me,” she said after a long stretch of time. “I asked her to, in fact. She was sick. Emaciated. Shriveled. Needed blood in order to gain any sort of purchase. We struck a mutual deal with each other. I would let her drain me, and in return, she would help elevate me to Baron. I was not confident in my ability to take one down myself.”
My eyes grew wide. “What? You wanted to become a Baron?”
“I wasn’t well off in the Night Market, $name. I was living on the streets. I barely could do anything to survive. I had not yet turned to the life of a courtesan and I was hungry. She had a belief that my blood could help her gain control over her illness, I knew I would probably not survive the next year. So if I was going to die, I wanted to choose how I was going to go. So I chose the cold kiss of death.” Her face twisted in pain, her fingers tightening against her own arms. “But the bitch betrayed me in the end and took the Baron title from me. Snatched it away from me. Due to her being my maker, and me being ever so young, I was forced to work for her for years.”
[[So not a lot of love for her then]]
[[I am so sorry|Chapter eight I am so sorry]]
[[I don’t think I can imagine you being taken advantage of]]“So not a lot of love for her then.”
“Very little of it, in fact.” Sighing, she looked up towards the paper moon and the fabric stretched sky. “Not that it matters. Everything worked out in the end, I suppose. What is that saying that humans sometimes have? Everything happens for a reason?”
I stayed silent. There was really nothing I could say. The more I learned about the woman before me, the more I felt my heart ache for her.
Gathering herself, Belladonna approached me. With one long nail, she tipped my head upwards, forcing my $eyecolor eyes to meet her own. “Come and see me when you are done with Elias. I want to make sure you are untouched.”
And with a blink of the eye, she was gone.
[[Next|Elias Converge]]The more light that was shed upon her past, the more I was aware of just how little I knew of the woman who stood before me. “It’s hard to image you being taken advantage of like that,” I told her. She was strong. She was unmovable. Belladonna was the type of woman who you did not cross out of fear alone. To think of her as anything less felt sinful.
“I was a woman far before I was a vampire,” she said. “We are taken advantage of quite frequently. By men. By the rich and entitled. And by women who wish to tear out each other spines rather than turn their ire on the true enemy.”
The bitterness that was there was so present that I felt it land at my feet as some sort of cast of shroud. One she so desperately wished to rid herself of. Yet, no matter how hard she struggled, it seemed as if it always crept back to her, settling upon her shoulders, heavier than it was before.
Gathering herself, Belladonna approached me. With one long nail, she tipped my head upwards, forcing my $eyecolor eyes to meet her own. “Come and see me when you are done with Elias. I want to make sure you are untouched.”
And with that, she was gone.
[[Next|Elias Converge]]I couldn’t imagine it. The things she described felt like an entirely different woman. One who was clearly lost within the memories of the Night Market. To know that she had once existed, and was now hidden so deep behind the cold mask of the courtesan, made my chest ache. “I am so sorry,” I told her.
“Don’t be,” she said, an odd clip to her tone. “It was not you who made the decisions to lead to that. You did not have a blind heart that trusted far too easily.”
Gathering herself, Belladonna approached me. With one long nail, she tipped my head upwards, forcing my $eyecolor eyes to meet her own. “Come and see me when you are done with Elias. I want to make sure you are untouched.”
And with that, she was gone.
[[Next|Elias Converge]]<img src="images/Ch8.png"
height="300" width="900">
The dim light of the distillery did nothing to chase away the shadows. A few small candles were placed on the nightstand, flickering across stone walls and rusted ducts. A giant whiskey vat loomed nearby, broken pipes reaching up towards the ceiling where I could see a small rectangular window, letting in the soft light of the lanterns far beyond. Blinking, I shifted onto my side, feeling the sting that raced through me and the way my muscles pulled. Milo had patched me up late last night in the flicker of candlelight. It was a shoddy job at best and one that I knew would need much more attention later. But both of us were far too tired to care. We had fallen asleep together, after that, me facing him as he told me a story. Something ridiculous about buttons and the eyes in which they came from. I had fallen asleep with a smile on my face. But now he wasn’t here.
Sitting up, I looked around, truly taking in my surroundings. The distillery in which he lived in was huge. Far bigger than the small corner he had tucked most of his personal belongings within. Despite him having lived here for quite a few years, according to Hazel, the place looked oddly sparse. The mattress in which I sat on was littered with worn blankets. There was an old dresser shoved to the side, every drawer open with shirts and pants falling from the depths. A few pictures were scattered along the top of it. None of them in frames. And next to me was a nightstand where the candles were lit. I could see a few empty bottles of liquor nearby as well.
Standing, I wrapped the sheet tight against me to move out into the living room. My clothes were destroyed and after the Deep, I wasn't sure I really wanted to try and save them. They were in a pile near a chair that was covered with a jacket and a few bags of random paraphernalia.
Moving into the ‘living room’, I took stock of the giant sectional sofa he had placed around a pieced together coffee table. The table itself was made of old half barrels with a reclaimed piece of wood balanced on top. Broken cigarettes and more bottles were scattered across it. The cigarettes were unlit, but the bottles were empty.
The door above rolled with a screech, the rumble echoing throughout the abandoned distillery. Milo entered, a bag in hand. He stamped his feet at the entrance as if to shake loose dirt or rain. His hair was slightly damp. He looked down at me from the cat walk, freezing for a moment as he spotted me. We stared at each other for a long stretch of time before he gave me a small smile, heading down the metal stairs.
“Hey,” he greeted, setting down a bag. “I got you a few things. Clothes, mostly. And Hazel sent over some tonics. Had to beat her off in order to keep her at the apothecary itself,” he joked. In reality, we both knew that Hazel wouldn’t be able to handle another venture out into the market. It was best for her to stick close to home for a while. To what was familiar.
“Uh, here,” he handed me a bag. One in which Hazel had obviously packed. <<if $deepwounds == "true">>“Everything is loose so as not to hurt any of your wounds.”<</if>>
“Thanks,” I said, taking the bag.
[[Go behind the screen to dress]]
[[Change in front of him]]
Grabbing the bag, I slipped back into the bedroom. A small changing screen separated the two area’s of the distillery, giving me enough privacy to change into what Milo had brought. He was right. They were loose and warm. It helped to take some of the chill from my skin. Stepping back around, I smiled at him gratefully, setting the bag aside.
Milo himself was dressed differently than I had seen him. His normal brown trousers were in place but he wore a cream cable knit sweater that had a small burn hole near the collar. His boots were heavier than normal and I noticed a hat tucked into his back pocket.
“Bit different for you,” I said, gesturing to his own clothes.
“Yeah. The market’s getting cold. I went out and got something to warm you up though.” Two large cups of what smelled like kafe sat off to the side. He handed me one, taking the other for himself. “Take those tonics,” he said. “It’ll help keep you on your feet.”
I didn’t hesitate as I pulled out the familiar looking bottles from Hazel’s shelf. They went down with a grimace but I could feel some of the ache beginning to dull almost immediately. Feeling a bit more put together, I sat down next to him on the sofa.
“It’s dark in here,” I commented.
Milo looked around, as if he didn’t even notice it anymore. “I have lanterns,” he said. “I just haven’t been lighting them. Couple mimic early morning light. I didn’t know how you would be doing this morning though and wanted to keep things dark until you woke. Looked like you might have needed your rest.” The mess I must have looked when I showed up was something else. I couldn’t help but notice that Milo didn’t look much better. Maybe not as salt encrusted, but still sporting dark circles under his eyes and a paler complexion than I was used to.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.
I frowned, taking stock of myself. Now that Hazel’s tonic was in me, I could feel the sharp pain of my side receding. The muscles that ached last night were now dull throbs that while still present, were not keeping me from moving.
“My head hurts,” I told him. “Probably the stress of everything that’s happened.”
“What did happen?” he asked. We hadn’t talked about it last night. It was the last thing I had wanted to discuss and even though I wished to avoid it this morning, I doubted I could shove it off for too much longer. “I thought you were just going down to see a shopkeep. Hazel came back though and said that you ran off to the Baron and then no one could get word to Kamille. Belladonna sent messages and they all got returned without answer.”
<<if $mirror == "safe">>“I got the favor. Just barely but I got it.” I tried to relay to him everything that had happened as best I could. For his part, Milo sat, in rapt attention. When I was done, he looked at me, his eyes seeming much more tired than before. <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> “I didn’t get the Baron’s favor. I tried but the damn mirror she wanted was broken,” I said bitterly. “So apparently it doesn’t matter that I technically did as she asked, I just didn’t do it to her liking.”
Milo was looking at me, seemingly much more tired than he had been before. I could see it in his eyes. The mild irritation and the fear. I doubted anything I had to say would make it better. <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">> “I didn’t get the Baron’s favor. She wanted me to get a mirror and I just never even got the chance. According to her, I’m lucky I even survived.”
Milo was looking at me, seemingly much more tired than he had been before. I could see it in his eyes. The mild irritation and the fear. I doubted anything I had to say would make it better.<</if>>
“I knew you shouldn’t have gone down there,” he muttered, almost to himself. He was right. I knew he was right. “You shouldn’t have taken Hazel there either.”
[[I know. I shouldn’t have let her go]]
[[The important thing is that we are safe]]
[[Hazel is an adult who can make her own decisions]]Digging into the bag, I grabbed at my clothes, dropping the sheet and slipping them on. I shook my head in a soft grin as Milo tilted his own head to the side, eyeing my bare skin.
“Really?” I asked.
He laughed, turning away at that point. “Can you blame me?”
Milo himself was dressed differently than I had seen him. His normal brown trousers were in place but he wore a cream cable knit sweater that had a small burn hole near the collar. His boots were heavier than normal and I noticed a hat tucked into his back pocket.
“Bit different for you,” I said, gesturing to his own clothes.
“Yeah. The market’s getting cold. I went out and got something to warm you up though.” Two large cups of what smelled like kafe sat off to the side. He handed me one, taking the other for himself. “Take those tonics,” he said. “It’ll help keep you on your feet.”
I didn’t hesitate as I pulled out the familiar looking bottles from Hazel’s shelf. They went down with a grimace but I could feel some of the ache beginning to dull almost immediately. Feeling a bit more put together, I sat down next to him on the sofa.
“It’s dark in here,” I commented.
Milo looked around, as if he didn’t even notice it anymore. “I have lanterns,” he said. “I just haven’t been lighting them. Couple mimic early morning light. I didn’t know how you would be doing this morning though and wanted to keep things dark until you woke. Looked like you might have needed your rest.” The mess I must have looked when I showed up was something else. I couldn’t help but notice that Milo didn’t look much better. Maybe not as salt encrusted, but still sporting dark circles under his eyes and a paler complexion than I was used to.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.
I frowned, taking stock of myself. Now that Hazel’s tonic was in me, I could feel the sharp pain of my side receding. The muscles that ached last night were now dull throbs that while still present, were not keeping me from moving.
“My head hurts,” I told him. “Probably the stress of everything that’s happened.”
“What did happen?” he asked. We hadn’t talked about it last night. It was the last thing I had wanted to discuss and even though I wished to avoid it this morning, I doubted I could shove it off for too much longer. “I thought you were just going down to see a shopkeep. Hazel came back though and said that you ran off to the Baron and then no one could get word to Kamille. Belladonna sent messages and they all got returned without answer.”
<<if $mirror == "safe">>“I got the favor. Just barely but I got it.” I tried to relay to him everything that had happened as best I could. For his part, Milo sat, in rapt attention. When I was done, he looked at me, his eyes seeming much more tired than before. <<elseif $mirror == "broken">> “I didn’t get the Baron’s favor. I tried but the damn mirror she wanted was broken,” I said bitterly. “So apparently it doesn’t matter that I technically did as she asked, I just didn’t do it to her liking.”
Milo was looking at me, seemingly much more tired than he had been before. I could see it in his eyes. The mild irritation and the fear. I doubted anything I had to say would make it better. <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">> “I didn’t get the Baron’s favor. She wanted me to get a mirror and I just never even got the chance. According to her, I’m lucky I even survived.”
Milo was looking at me, seemingly much more tired than he had been before. I could see it in his eyes. The mild irritation and the fear. I doubted anything I had to say would make it better.<</if>>
“I knew you shouldn’t have gone down there,” he muttered, almost to himself. He was right. I knew he was right. “You shouldn’t have taken Hazel there either.”
[[I know. I shouldn’t have let her go]]
[[The important thing is that we are safe]]
[[Hazel is an adult who can make her own decisions]]I winced a little at the anger behind his words. It was born of fear. This much I knew. But I didn’t like hearing it all the same. Knowing something could have happened to Hazel didn’t sit well with me either. She was the best of us. She deserved more safety than what we had given her.
“I know,” I said. “I should have sided with you on that. At the very least I should have supported you when you told her not to go.”
“And you. Are you forgetting you in this situation? You also never should have been down there.”
The dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than ever, along with the tremor of his hands. “Milo,” I said gently. “What other choice did I have?”
“You could just stop,” he said. There was a manic need that was consuming him. As he took a step towards me, I saw how wild his eyes were. “You could stop all of this now.”
“And what? Just let the world die?”
He swallowed thickly. “The world won’t die,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. “It won’t. It will get fixed. But it is not your responsibility to save it.”
“Then whose responsibility is it?”
He picked at the sleeve to his kafe, tearing at the cardboard that was wrapped around it. How quickly his emotions had changed from anger to concern to scared little boy. “I don’t know. But it shouldn’t be yours. You never should have gotten involved in this. I- I’m sorry you don’t feel like you have another choice.”
“I have a choice Milo. I am choosing to help.”
He shook his head. I didn’t know if it was in denial or to something else. Maybe Milo didn’t know either.
Reaching out, I took his hand in mine, tugging him forward. He stumbled into my arms without complaint, the downturn of his lips still prominent. “Help me,” I whispered to him. “Stop fighting me on this Baron front. You have been on the fence about it from the beginning and I know this is going to bring up a lot of bad memories for you but please, just help me. This is dangerous and this is scary and I want you by my side.”
I didn’t want to do this alone. One thing had become abundantly clear as I was stuck in the dark depths below the market. I did not want to go through this journey alone. And I knew I had friends. I knew that Belladonna and Gabriel and Hazel were by my side. But I wanted Milo. At the end of the day I wanted to take comfort in this man before me and I wanted to do it without question or fear.
But when I stared at him, I watched his eyes fill. Clearing his throat, he turned his face away, nodding. “I’ll be with you,” he said softly, squeezing my hand. “‘Till the end.”
Leaning forward, I kissed him. Something soft and sweet and more reassuring than anything else.
We rested like that for a while, existing in one another space, sharing the quiet. Shifting so my legs were tucked beneath me, I took a sip of my kafe. It burned as it went down, settling in my chest full and warm. Milo’s arm was wrapped around my shoulder, his thumb tracing small circles against the fabric of my shirt. He was lost in thought, somewhere far away, but unconsciously trying to keep me close.
“Milo,” I started slowly. “We do need to talk about what happened before I went to the Barons though. There’s some things you might need to know.”
He frowned at that. Setting his own kafe aside, he nodded. “Alright,” he started slowly.
[[Tell him that you think you met Malcolm]]
[[Malcolm is alive]]“I understand that you are upset. I get that you never wanted the two of us going down there and with how it all ended, I’m not disagreeing with your sentiment. But, Milo, we are safe.”
“You look like you had a run in with a cheese grater,” he said, eyes wide and tone incredulous. “That’s safe to you?”
“We had no other choice, Milo. We had to go down there. We had to speak to the Baron. What else are we supposedto be doing?"
“You could just stop,” he said. There was a manic need that was consuming him. As he took a step towards me, I saw how wild his eyes were. “You could stop all of this now.”
“And what? Just let the world die?”
He swallowed thickly. “The world won’t die,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. “It won’t. It will get fixed. But it is not your responsibility to save it.”
“Then whose responsibility is it?”
He picked at the sleeve to his kafe, tearing at the cardboard that was wrapped around it. How quickly his emotions had changed from anger to concern to scared little boy. “I don’t know. But it shouldn’t be yours. You never should have gotten involved in this. I- I’m sorry you don’t feel like you have another choice.”
“I have a choice Milo. I am choosing to help.”
He shook his head. I didn’t know if it was in denial or to something else. Maybe Milo didn’t know either.
Reaching out, I took his hand in mine, tugging him forward. He stumbled into my arms without complaint, the downturn of his lips still prominent. “Help me,” I whispered to him. “Stop fighting me on this Baron front. You have been on the fence about it from the beginning and I know this is going to bring up a lot of bad memories for you but please, just help me. This is dangerous and this is scary and I want you by my side.”
I didn’t want to do this alone. One thing had become abundantly clear as I was stuck in the dark depths below the market. I did not want to go through this journey alone. And I knew I had friends. I knew that Belladonna and Gabriel and Hazel were by my side. But I wanted Milo. At the end of the day I wanted to take comfort in this man before me and I wanted to do it without question or fear.
But when I stared at him, I watched his eyes fill. Clearing his throat, he turned his face away, nodding. “I’ll be with you,” he said softly, squeezing my hand. “‘Till the end.”
Leaning forward, I kissed him. Something soft and sweet and more reassuring than anything else.
We rested like that for a while, existing in one another space, sharing the quiet. Shifting so my legs were tucked beneath me, I took a sip of my kafe. It burned as it went down, settling in my chest full and warm. Milo’s arm was wrapped around my shoulder, his thumb tracing small circles against the fabric of my shirt. He was lost in thought, somewhere far away, but unconsciously trying to keep me close.
“Milo,” I started slowly. “We do need to talk about what happened before I went to the Barons though. There’s some things you might need to know.”
He frowned at that. Setting his own kafe aside, he nodded. “Alright,” he started slowly.
[[Tell him that you think you met Malcolm]]
[[Malcolm is alive]]“Hazel was safe, Milo. She is also, if you haven’t noticed, an adult who can make her own decisions. And despite all that, she was not in danger. Nothing actually attacked us until I stupidly jumped down a dark well. That one is on me.”
“You should have been prepared more.”
“Yeah, you know what? I should have. I absolutely should have. But I wasn’t and going forward, that might be something we should all look at a bit more because I didn’t know what waited me down there. And yes, you tried to tell me but what other options do we really have here.”
“You could just stop,” he said. There was a manic need that was consuming him. As he took a step towards me, I saw how wild his eyes were. “You could stop all of this now.”
“And what? Just let the world die?”
He swallowed thickly. “The world won’t die,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. “It won’t. It will get fixed. But it is not your responsibility to save it.”
“Then whose responsibility is it?”
He picked at the sleeve to his kafe, tearing at the cardboard that was wrapped around it. How quickly his emotions had changed from anger to concern to scared little boy. “I don’t know. But it shouldn’t be yours. You never should have gotten involved in this. I- I’m sorry you don’t feel like you have another choice.”
“I have a choice Milo. I am choosing to help.”
He shook his head. I didn’t know if it was in denial or to something else. Maybe Milo didn’t know either.
Reaching out, I took his hand in mine, tugging him forward. He stumbled into my arms without complaint, the downturn of his lips still prominent. “Help me,” I whispered to him. “Stop fighting me on this Baron front. You have been on the fence about it from the beginning and I know this is going to bring up a lot of bad memories for you but please, just help me. This is dangerous and this is scary and I want you by my side.”
I didn’t want to do this alone. One thing had become abundantly clear as I was stuck in the dark depths below the market. I did not want to go through this journey alone. And I knew I had friends. I knew that Belladonna and Gabriel and Hazel were by my side. But I wanted Milo. At the end of the day I wanted to take comfort in this man before me and I wanted to do it without question or fear.
But when I stared at him, I watched his eyes fill. Clearing his throat, he turned his face away, nodding. “I’ll be with you,” he said softly, squeezing my hand. “‘Till the end.”
Leaning forward, I kissed him. Something soft and sweet and more reassuring than anything else.
We rested like that for a while, existing in one another space, sharing the quiet. Shifting so my legs were tucked beneath me, I took a sip of my kafe. It burned as it went down, settling in my chest full and warm. Milo’s arm was wrapped around my shoulder, his thumb tracing small circles against the fabric of my shirt. He was lost in thought, somewhere far away, but unconsciously trying to keep me close.
“Milo,” I started slowly. “We do need to talk about what happened before I went to the Barons though. There’s some things you might need to know.”
He frowned at that. Setting his own kafe aside, he nodded. “Alright,” he started slowly.
[[Tell him that you think you met Malcolm]]
[[Malcolm is alive]]I looked at him. The lack of sleep that was apparent on his face. The way that I knew this would affect him. I was glad I was given the opportunity to tell him before the others. Before Hazel. I didn’t want his reaction hurting her, but the subject of Malcolm looked as if it was slowly pulling the two of them apart.
“We found the medium Belladonna sent us too,” I started slowly. “And we were able to make contact with something.”
I expected the roll of his eyes almost immediately and had already prepared myself for the fact that this was going to be a fight. “Mediums make money off this shit, $name. Of course, you made contact with something.”
“I know that. I thought that same thing. But Milo, we didn’t pay her. There was no reason for her to fabricate anything.”
“Except that her entire reputation depends on it and she wouldn’t want it getting out that she was a fraud.”
“Will you just listen?” I asked. “I don’t think this was false. We made contact with someone. I spoke to someone. It wasn’t Anemone. It was someone else entirely. They’re lost, Milo. They don’t know who they were or what they were doing. They sounded almost like they were in a dream.”
I could feel the way his arm tightened around me. “And what? You think it’s him?”
[[(firm) Yes I can|I think it was Malcolm]]
[[I cannot confirm that it is Malcolm, but we can’t count that out either]]
I looked at him. The lack of sleep that was apparent on his face. The way that I knew this would affect him. I was glad I was given the opportunity to tell him before the others. Before Hazel. I didn’t want his reaction hurting her, but the subject of Malcolm looked as if it was slowly pulling the two of them apart.
“We found the medium Belladonna sent us too,” I started slowly. “And we were able to make contact with Malcolm.”
I expected the roll of his eyes almost immediately and had already prepared myself for the fact that this was going to be a fight. “Mediums make money off this shit, $name. Of course, you made contact with something.”
"Look, I could sugar coat this for you but I don't think that will do you any favors. It was him, Milo. Malcolm is alive."
“No," he started, the muscle in his jaw twitching. "That is what Hazel has brainwashed you to believe."
“Will you just listen?” I asked, growing irritated. “This isn't about what Hazel believes. This is about what I saw. We made contact with someone. I spoke to someone. It wasn’t Anemone. It was someone else entirely. They’re lost, Milo. They don’t know who they were or what they were doing. They sounded almost like they were in a dream.”
I could feel the way his arm tightened around me. “You can't just proclaim that to be him though!”
[[(firm) Yes I can|I think it was Malcolm]]
[[I cannot confirm that it is Malcolm, but we can’t count that out either]]
“I think it was Malcolm,” I said slowly. I watched as his jaw twitched and he tried to control the immediate flare of emotions.
“Because you know him so well?” I could hear the anger in his voice. The way he snapped at me.
“I mentioned you and Hazel and he reacted,” I told him as clinically as possible. “I don’t know why else he would.” The candles had burst, and the spirit left the room in a rush. Anemone had fallen to the ground. The world had gone quiet. And the look in Hazel’s eyes had been filled with so much hope. There was very little doubt that who we had made contact with was Malcolm Albright. I just didn’t know how to make Milo believe it too.
“Milo,” I started slowly. “I get it, okay? Malcolm has been stuck. But that isn’t your fault.”
Eyes flashing to mine, he untangled himself from me, jaw tight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I looked at him helplessly. “You have been proclaiming him dead for years and I think you’ve been doing it because it was how you learned to cope. Knowing that he isn’t dead is a gut punch. I can see that. Hazel can see that. Why can’t you admit it?”
“Because he’s dead!” he shouted, whirling on me. Then, with a voice cracked through with anguish, he featured wildly around us, grasping for an explanation that someone would believe. “He needs to be dead.”
“Why?” I asked quickly.
Eyes flicking left and right he tried to search for the answer. Nothing was coming, though. I could see the moment it slotted into his head. Not outright acceptance but something different. Something more.
Failure.
[[Ask him what he needs from you]]
[[Hold him]]
[[You don't get to go silent on this. You need to talk to me]]“I don’t really know if there is any way that I can confirm it,” I told him slowly. “But I don’t think we can rule out that we came in contact with him. I mentioned you and Hazel and whatever spirit we were speaking to, reacted.” The candles had burst, and the spirit had left the room in a rush. Anemone had fallen to the ground. The world had gone quiet. And the look in Hazel’s eyes had been filled with some much hope. I didn’t know Malcolm Albright, however. And until the man said so himself, I wasn’t sure it was fair of me to make a declaration.
Despite that, I did think it was time that Milo realize that the possibility he had been trying so hard to shove away, could be knocking at his door.
“Milo,” I started slowly. “I get it, okay? Malcolm has been stuck. But that isn’t your fault.”
Eyes flashing to mine, he untangled himself from me, jaw tight. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I looked at him helplessly. “You have been proclaiming him dead for years and I think you’ve been doing it because it was how you learned to cope. Knowing that he isn’t dead is a gut punch. I can see that. Hazel can see that. Why can’t you admit it?”
“Because he’s dead!” he shouted, whirling on me. Then, with a voice cracked through with anguish, he featured wildly around us, grasping for an explanation that someone would believe. “He needs to be dead.”
“Why?” I asked quickly.
Eyes flicking left and right he tried to search for the answer. Nothing was coming, though. I could see the moment it slotted into his head. Not outright acceptance but something different. Something more.
Failure.
[[Ask him what he needs from you]]
[[Hold him]]
[[You don't get to go silent on this. You need to talk to me]]I could see the blank stare on his face as he slowly began to shut down. Twisting to face him, I caught his eyes, dragging them to mine. “What do you need from me?” I asked.
He almost looked startled at the question. He had been fighting everything for so long, that he had forgotten that there were others that did care. “I just need time,” he said slowly, as if he were coming to the realization himself. “All of it is wrapped up in other complications and with everything going on right now, I don’t feel like I can face it.”
“I can give you time,” I assured him. “Just don’t shut me out either.
Sitting up, Milo ran a ragged hand through his hair as he took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know if I believe that you contacted him. I don’t really know what I believe with everything that happened down there. But I do know that Hazel is going to believe it. So, first and foremost, I need to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“What do you mean?” It wasn’t what I had expected him to say. I had been sure this was going to end with an outright denial on his part. Or, an argument of some sort.
“Hazel would do anything to get her brother back,” Milo said. “In those first years, the amount of things I had to keep her from… this is just going to bring it all back. If she thinks he is just out of reach, nothing is going to stop her from trying to get to him. And that might not really help with the save the market campaign we have going.”
“Would Hazel really jeopardize the market?” It didn’t seem like Hazel. Not the Hazel I knew, at least. The one with soft smiles and the offering of a warm bowl of food at each turn.
“You do stupid things for the people you love,” Milo said with a sigh. “And Mal–” he stuttered on the name. “He was her world, $name. The only reason she did not turn out like her mother is because of him. And since he’s been gone, she’s lost a good amount of herself. Maybe we both did. But I was set up in this world for disappointment. Hazel was not.”
“Neither of you deserved what happened,” I told him firmly. “And while I didn’t know him, I can almost certainly say Malcolm didn’t deserve to die. If there is a way to fix that, a safe way, we should at least try.”
Milo looked undecided, his gaze far off. Suddenly, I really didn’t like the idea of him sitting alone in this place. In the dark with nothing but his memories and the demons that haunted him. The empty bottles felt significant and I wondered how long it took him to go through them. If they were the cause of his red rimmed eyes.
“Let’s just get you back to Hazel’s,” he said after a moment “Can you walk okay?”
[[I can walk just fine]]
[[No. Carry me]]
[[Can we spend a few more minutes together?]]
Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I pulled him towards me, feeling him sag against my side.
“I’m sorry,” I told him.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, voice muffled against me. “The entire situation with him and the Baron of the Mists is just… sometimes it doesn’t feel real. Like I still expect to wake up from it sometimes.”
Pulling away, he ran a ragged hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know if I believe that you contacted him. I don’t really know what I believe with everything that happened down there. But I do know that Hazel is going to believe it. So, first and foremost, I need to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“What do you mean?” It wasn’t what I had expected him to say. I had been sure this was going to end with an outright denial on his part. Or, an argument of some sort.
“Hazel would do anything to get her brother back,” Milo said. “In those first years, the amount of things I had to keep her from… this is just going to bring it all back. If she thinks he is just out of reach, nothing is going to stop her from trying to get to him. And that might not really help with the save the market campaign we have going.”
“Would Hazel really jeopardize the market?” It didn’t seem like Hazel. Not the Hazel I knew, at least. The one with soft smiles and the offering of a warm bowl of food at each turn.
“You do stupid things for the people you love,” Milo said with a sigh. “And Mal–” he stuttered on the name. “He was her world, $name. The only reason she did not turn out like her mother is because of him. And since he’s been gone, she’s lost a good amount of herself. Maybe we both did. But I was set up in this world for disappointment. Hazel was not.”
“Neither of you deserved what happened,” I told him firmly. “And while I didn’t know him, I can almost certainly say Malcolm didn’t deserve to die. If there is a way to fix that, a safe way, we should at least try.”
Milo looked undecided, his gaze far off. Suddenly, I really didn’t like the idea of him sitting alone in this place. In the dark with nothing but his memories and the demons that haunted him. The empty bottles felt significant and I wondered how long it took him to go through them. If they were the cause of his red rimmed eyes.
“Let’s just get you back to Hazel’s,” he said after a moment “Can you walk okay?”
[[I can walk just fine]]
[[No. Carry me]]
[[Can we spend a few more minutes together?]]
I could see the blank stare on his face as he slowly began to shut down. Twisting to face him, I caught his eyes, dragging them to mine. “No,” I said firmly. “You don’t get to go silent on this one. You need to talk to me. I’m here, willing to help, Milo.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” he said bitterly. “And believe me, $name. This is not what I need help with. Everyone thinks I’m sitting around, not dealing with this but I have. I promise you, I have.”
“Then why does he need to be dead?” I asked, gentling my voice.
Milo sighed, the fight leaving him in messy waves. “Death in the market is complicated. I know it is. //He// knew it was. And given who his mother was, death was a fear that had him tied up in knots. Whether Hazel can bring him back or not shouldn’t be a question. He deserves to have peace.”
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to press for so much more. But I could see it in the way he was beginning to shut down. His eyes growing distant.
“Milo,” I tried again.
Sitting up, Milo ran a ragged hand through his hair as he took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know if I believe that you contacted him. I don’t really know what I believe with everything that happened down there. But I do know that Hazel is going to believe it. So, first and foremost, I need to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“What do you mean?” It wasn’t what I had expected him to say. I had been sure this was going to end with an outright denial on his part. Or, an argument of some sort.
“Hazel would do anything to get her brother back,” Milo said. “In those first years, the amount of things I had to keep her from… this is just going to bring it all back. If she thinks he is just out of reach, nothing is going to stop her from trying to get to him. And that might not really help with the save the market campaign we have going.”
“Would Hazel really jeopardize the market?” It didn’t seem like Hazel. Not the Hazel I knew, at least. The one with soft smiles and the offering of a warm bowl of food at each turn.
“You do stupid things for the people you love,” Milo said with a sigh. “And Mal–” he stuttered on the name. “He was her world, $name. The only reason she did not turn out like her mother is because of him. And since he’s been gone, she’s lost a good amount of herself. Maybe we both did. But I was set up in this world for disappointment. Hazel was not.”
“Neither of you deserved what happened,” I told him firmly. “And while I didn’t know him, I can almost certainly say Malcolm didn’t deserve to die. If there is a way to fix that, a safe way, we should at least try.”
Milo looked undecided, his gaze far off. Suddenly, I really didn’t like the idea of him sitting alone in this place. In the dark with nothing but his memories and the demons that haunted him. The empty bottles felt significant and I wondered how long it took him to go through them. If they were the cause of his red rimmed eyes.
“Let’s just get you back to Hazel’s,” he said after a moment “Can you walk okay?”
[[I can walk just fine]]
[[No. Carry me]]
[[Can we spend a few more minutes together?]]
“I can walk just fine,” I told him. I had a headache but I was sure that would go away with time. Besides, stretching my legs was probably going to be good for me if I wanted to keep the soreness from settling in.
“I don’t know,” he said, a small glint in his eyes. “You look helpless. Like I should take care of you.” I watched as he shifted and before he could get his hands on me, I rolled from the couch.
“Stay where you are,” I told him. “You’ve done enough to this poor body of mine.”
A bark of laughter escaped him and rattled through around the room. “I’ve done enough? Excuse me but who jumped who last night?”
“Technically, you started it.”
“How was I not supposed to when you showed up at my door, all demanding and angry. It was hot.”
“Alright, calm it down,” I laughed at his leer. When he started walking towards me, I backed away even further. When he lunged for me, grabbing me softly but still somehow maneuvering me, I let out a shriek of laughter. Before I knew it, I was slung up on his back, thighs bracketing his waist, arms wrapped around his neck.
“You cannot possibly carry me all the way to Hazel’s like this,” I said against his ear.
“I love a challenge, darlin’. You’re only egging me on more here.” His grip tightened on my legs and with very little effort, he began marching up the rickety metal stairs.
[[Next|Chapter Eight M]]
“No,” I said sarcastically. “Carry me.”
I wasn’t expecting the grin that stretched across his face, but the second I saw it, I realized how much I missed it.
“You think I won’t?” he teased. I could tell it was with some effort but if there was one thing I had learned about Milo, it was that he hated to sit in his melancholy if there was fun to be had.
“I think you need to stay on the other side of the room, Milo Next,” I said, popping up from the sofa. “You’ve done enough to this poor body of mine.”
A bark of laughter escaped him and rattled through around the room. “I’ve done enough? Excuse me but who jumped who last night?”
“Technically, you started it.”
“How was I not supposed to when you showed up at my door, all demanding and angry. It was hot.”
“Alright, calm it down,” I laughed at his leer. When he started walking towards me, I backed away even further. When he lunged for me, grabbing me softly but still somehow maneuvering me, I let out a shriek of laughter. Before I knew it, I was slung up on his back, thighs bracketing his waist, arms wrapped around his neck.
“You cannot possibly carry me all the way to Hazel’s like this,” I said against his ear.
“I love a challenge, darlin’. You’re only egging me on more here.” His grip tightened on my legs and with very little effort, he began marching up the rickety metal stairs.
[[Next|Chapter Eight M]]
<<set $cary to "true">>The walk to Hazel’s was not far, but it didn’t mean it was something I wanted to do. From where I sat, I spied the window. It was fogged over with a bitter chill. Milo’s bed was comfortable, covered in mounds of blankets, and was far more appealing than whatever was awaiting us out there.
“Do you think we could spend a few more minutes together?” I asked hopefully.
When he looked at me, there was a pain to his eyes. One that spoke of just how long it had been since anyone had actually //wanted// him. It made my heart hurt. This man who was so full of life, had slowly been dying through the years, starved for not touch, but for someone to just want him for who he was alone.
“Yeah,” he said, voice cracked. “I would actually really like that.”
With his kafe, he kicked off his shoes and got on the bed. The two of us curled under a large orange comforter, leaning side to side. Milo’s arm wrapped around my shoulders as he pressed a kiss to my neck.
“You’re freezing,” I told him.
“So are you. Drink your kafe to warm up.”
I sipped at the bitter liquid, feeling it penetrate my bones as it always did. I had been in a few different situations with Milo now. Our lives twining together in ways that were loud and public. I think I liked this best though. When we were tucked away together. He felt far more real.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked, voice whiskey soft and eyes half closed.
“Just didn’t expect you to be like this. The thief and the dancer,” I snorted. “Now look at you. Snuggling in bed with me. Drinking kafe.”
“Fucking domesticated is what you’ve made me.”
“I doubt I made you that.”
He nuzzled against me, laying his head on my chest. A position, I was finding, he liked the best. “You’ve ruined me, $name. There will not be another one quite like you.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Milo. Not that I know of at least.”
Lifting my hand, he kissed my knuckles. “I hope not. I really really hope not.”
[[Next|Chapter Eight M]]
Cold air brushed against my cheeks as we entered through the front gates. <<if $cary == "true">>Milo had dropped me about four alleys back and I had refused to let him touch anything but my hand from that point forward. He apologized profusely but the fact that there was still amusement at the corners of his lips let me know he didn’t feel all that sorry. I vowed to repay him for his slight when he least expected it. <</if>>
The chimney of the apothecary was puffing out plumes of grey, iridescent smoke while the stained-glass windows had a warm glow pouring from inside. I held Milo’s hand within mine, feeling as if our fingers had frozen together. The air was unnaturally cold. Much colder than when I had left for the deep. It did nothing to lessen the headache throbbing behind my eyes.
“You ready for today?” he asked.
I turned my head to him, looking him up and down with a pointed look. “You look far worse than I do,” I commented.
“Ouch. But fair.”
“Take a tonic,” I told him.
“You take a tonic,” he mumbled. When he tugged at my wrist though, smiling, I rolled my eyes.
The burst of warmth that hit us when we came through the door wrapped around us in a familiar hug. Milo was immediately stripping his sweater off, revealing the open shirt I normally saw and the chains of his necklace. I went to call out to Hazel but had her in my arms before I could get her name out.
“You’re alive,” she breathed. “Milo said you were of course but I didn’t know if I could believe him until you were actually here but you’re here now and you’re alive and… oh $name, I am so sorry. Everything went so terribly wrong and you never should have gone down in the first place and…”
I wrapped my arms around Hazel. “It’s okay,” I whispered to her, feeling her tears wet my shoulder. “It’s okay, Hazel. We know better going forward. We can talk and figure out a way to make all this safer.”
“Just thinking of you in that awful place,” Hazel shook her head. “I hate it.” Pulling back, she wiped at her eyes. “I have a breakfast stew on. And don’t either of you think about not eating it. I’ve been up all night and...”
Milo wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She melted into his embrace and I could see a certain amount of nerves bleed from her shoulders. “I’m starving,” he whispered.
[[Next|Chapter Eight M part 2]]<img src="images/Ch8.png"
height="300" width="900">
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>The bed bounced as Hazel jumped onto it, jostling me awake. She snuggled under the covers quickly, pressing her cold feet to mine. I hissed at the sudden intrusion but she held me tight, surprisingly strong for such a tiny woman.
“Good morning,” she said, peppering my face with kisses. I laughed, twisting around in her hold so I could wrap an arm around her waist. She rolled on top of me, legs falling to either side of my hips, the blanket pulled up over both our shoulders.
“You’re cold,” I told her.
“It’s cold outside,” she said. “I already went out and chopped the wood for the morning. It’s nearly freezing out there. The garden has a dusting of frost suddenly.”
“I didn’t even know it got cold in the Night Market.”
“Oh yes. We have seasons,” she said. “It’s supposed to get chillier and the nights longer but it feels like it might be a bit earlier this year.” Pressing herself downwards, she kissed me on the lips, her tongue sneaking out to tease me.
“You are happy this morning,” I said with a grin as she pulled away.
“I am happy,” she smiled. Her hair was down, her eyes soft and the color on her cheeks drawn from the full happiness that was now consuming her. “Are you happy?” she asked.
<<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>The couch bounced as Hazel jumped onto it, jostling me awake. I had fallen asleep before the fire late last night, with her in my arms. But in typical Hazel fashion, she got up far earlier than me and had already started her day. Clambering on top of me, she shoved her cold feet to mine. I hissed at the sudden intrusion but she held me tight, surprisingly strong for such a tiny woman.
“Good morning,” she said, peppering my face with kisses. I laughed, twisting around in her hold so I could wrap an arm around her waist. She rolled on top of me, wiggling until the blankets were pulled up over our shoulders.
“You’re cold,” I told her.
“It’s cold outside,” she said. “I already went out and chopped the wood for the morning. It’s nearly freezing out there. The garden has a dusting of frost suddenly.”
“I didn’t even know it got cold in the Night Market.”
“Oh yes. We have seasons,” she said. “It’s supposed to get chillier and the nights longer but it feels like it might be a bit earlier this year.” Pressing herself downwards, she burried her cold nose into the nap of my neck, trying to drive away the chill.
“You are happy this morning,” I said with a grin as she pulled away.
“I am happy,” she smiled. Her hair was down, her eyes soft and the color on her cheeks drawn from the full happiness that was now consuming her. “Are you happy?” she asked, suddenly hesitant. Our relationship had taken a turn last night and it was clear that Hazel was more than ready to accept us as something more.<</if>>
[[Never been happier]]
[[I’ll be happier when the Baron’s are dealt with]]
[[I'll be happier if you tell me we get to stay here all day]]
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>“I’ve never been happier,” I told her softly. I ran my fingers across her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose, circling around to run down the curve of her spine. She was beautiful. In the full light of the wisps, she stole my breath from me.
“Good,” she whispered, leaning forward to nip at my lips. At the edge of the bed, I felt something stir, a low thrum of purring echoing in the room.
Peering over her shoulder, I watched Mr. Billows kneading at the pile of blankets we had wrapped ourselves in. Rolling off me, Hazel made sure to keep the blankets close to our bodies, trapping in our body heat. Reaching out with her foot, she scratched at Billows mane before pulling her bare foot back in.
“Last night was unexpected,” she said, resting it against my shoulder. She tipped her eyes up towards me. “I wanted to plan something better for you but I– after everything that happened I just didn’t want to waste another moment.” <<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>“I’ve never been happier,” I told her softly. I ran my fingers across her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose, circling around to run down the curve of her spine. She was beautiful.
“Good,” she whispered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against my lips. At the edge of the sofa, I felt something stir, a low thrum of purring echoing in the room.
Peering over her shoulder, I watched Mr. Billows kneading at the pile of blankets we had wrapped ourselves in. Rolling off me, Hazel made sure to keep the blankets close to our bodies, trapping in our heat. Reaching out with her foot, she scratched at Billows mane before pulling her bare foot back in.
“Last night was unexpected,” she said, resting it against my shoulder. She tipped her eyes up towards me. “I'm- I'm almost glad we didn't... well, you know," she blushed. "I had planned to eventually but last night might not have been the right time and... not that I need that, mind you, I just--" she rolled her lips into her mouth. "I'm babbling."<</if>>
[[You were planning this?]]
[[I think it ended up perfect. I enjoy spontaneity]]
[[It doesn’t matter what happened. I'm just happy you were here]]
I wanted to be. I wanted to sit in this moment with her and let it overwhelm me. But at the back of my mind, the Barons still lingered. They were a looming force that was covering the good moments of my life with a sort of darkness that I did not want.
“I’m happy,” I told her. “I’ll be happier when the Barons are dealt with though.”
She frowned a little as she brushed her fingers across the crown of my hair. “They will be,” she said firmly. “You are not doing this alone.” I closed my eyes, leaning into her touch. It was the strength that I would need to get me through.
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>Down by our feet, the bed shifted. Peering over her shoulder, I watched Mr. Billows kneading at the pile of blankets we had wrapped ourselves in. Rolling off me, Hazel made sure to keep the blankets close to our bodies, trapping in our body heat. Reaching out with her foot, she scratched at Billows mane before pulling her bare foot back in.
“Last night was unexpected,” she said, resting it against my shoulder. She tipped her eyes up towards me. “I wanted to plan something better for you but I– after everything that happened I just didn’t want to waste another moment.” <<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>Down by our feet, the sofa shifted. Peering over her shoulder, I watched Mr. Billows kneading at the pile of blankets we had wrapped ourselves in. Rolling off me, Hazel made sure to keep the blankets close to our bodies, trapping in our heat. Reaching out with her foot, she scratched at Billows mane before pulling her bare foot back in.
“Last night was unexpected,” she said, resting it against my shoulder. She tipped her eyes up towards me. “I'm- I'm almost glad we didn't... well, you know," she blushed. "I had planned to eventually but last night might not have been the right time and... not that I need that, mind you, I just--" she rolled her lips into her mouth. "I'm babbling."<</if>>
[[You were planning this?]]
[[I think it ended up perfect. I enjoy spontaneity]]
[[It doesn’t matter what happened. I'm just happy you were here]]
“I’ll be happier if you tell me I get to stay here all day.” I didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to curl up in the safety of this room and not have to worry about meeting Barons or wandering through the market.
“I hope you do,” she whispered, leaning down to nip at my lips. <<if $hazelsex == "true">> I moaned into her touch, arching my body towards her own. I could feel her smile against my skin, the curve of her breast brushing against me. I wanted her back in bed. Naked and smiling at me as our hips danced together. I wanted nothing more than to stay within her embrace forever.<</if>>
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>Down by our feet, the bed shifted. Peering over her shoulder, I watched Mr. Billows kneading at the pile of blankets we had wrapped ourselves in. Rolling off me, Hazel made sure to keep the blankets close to our bodies, trapping in our body heat. Reaching out with her foot, she scratched at Billows mane before pulling her bare foot back in.
“Last night was unexpected,” she said, resting it against my shoulder. She tipped her eyes up towards me. “I wanted to plan something better for you but I– after everything that happened I just didn’t want to waste another moment.” <<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>Down by our feet, the sofa shifted. Peering over her shoulder, I watched Mr. Billows kneading at the pile of blankets we had wrapped ourselves in. Rolling off me, Hazel made sure to keep the blankets close to our bodies, trapping in our heat. Reaching out with her foot, she scratched at Billows mane before pulling her bare foot back in.
“Last night was unexpected,” she said, resting it against my shoulder. She tipped her eyes up towards me. “I'm- I'm almost glad we didn't... well, you know," she blushed. "I had planned to eventually but last night might not have been the right time and... not that I need that, mind you, I just--" she rolled her lips into her mouth. "I'm babbling."<</if>>
[[You were planning this?]]
[[I think it ended up perfect. I enjoy spontaneity]]
[[It doesn’t matter what happened. I'm just happy you were here]]
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>An amused smile passed my face as I cocked my head down towards her. “You were planning this?” I asked coyly.
The blush that crossed her cheeks was instantaneous. “I mean– no. No. Not in that way. Well, I imagined. But it wasn’t like I was going out to the market and gathering nice smelling candles and incense and picking out new sheets.” It took the span of one blink towards her for her to squeak and bury her head in my shoulder.
I laughed loudly, holding her close. “You are cute when you get like this,” I told her.
“I’m mortified.”
“Cutely mortified?” I suggested.
She slapped my arm and then immediately wiggled over to kiss the offending spot. We laid like that for a bit, too cold to go out into the world and far too comfortable to even contemplate moving. In the soft light of her room, I felt myself sink down into her mattress, our morning passing in a dull haze. My wounds still pulled at me occasionally when I shifted, but Hazel had given me more tonics than I could count last night, while simultaneously erasing all traces of the Deep from my skin.
“We really should get up,” she whispered as the two of us were beginning to doze.<<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>An amused smile passed my face as I cocked my head down towards her. “You were planning this?” I asked coyly.
The blush that crossed her cheeks was instantaneous. “I mean– no. No. Not in that way. Well, I imagined. But it wasn’t like I was going out to the market and gathering nice smelling candles and incense and picking out new sheets.” It took the span of one blink towards her for her to squeak and bury her head in my shoulder. "I just wanted you to be comfortable last night and so I had thought a nice evening where I took care of you would be... good?"
I laughed loudly, holding her close. “You are cute when you get like this,” I told her.
“I’m mortified.”
“Cutely mortified?” I suggested.
She slapped my arm and then immediately wiggled over to kiss the offending spot. We laid like that for a bit, too cold to go out into the world and far too comfortable to even contemplate moving. In the soft light of the living room, I felt myself sink down into sofa, our morning passing in a dull haze. My wounds still pulled at me occasionally when I shifted, but Hazel had given me more tonics than I could count last night, while simultaneously erasing all traces of the Deep from my skin.
“We really should get up,” she whispered as the two of us were beginning to doze. <</if>>
[[We should take the day off]]
[[You're right. We need to call the others here]]
[[Why do I suspect they are all going to come here whether we invite them or not]]<<if $hazelsex == "true">>I curled our bodies close to each other, not allowing an inch of space to come between the two of us. Hazel was all soft curves and supple skin. I found my hands wandering more than once, squeezing at sinful areas of skin that I wanted to massage and feel. “I think it ended up perfect,” I told her, hand running down her belly and dipping towards her navel. “I enjoy the spontaneity.”
She giggled a bit, skin a big redder on the apples of her cheeks. “I noticed.” She wiggled against me, rubbing herself against my body until we were both a mess of giggles and soft kisses once more.
We laid like that for a bit, too cold to go out into the world and far too comfortable to even contemplate moving. In the soft light of her room, I felt myself sink down into her mattress, our morning passing in a dull haze. My wounds still pulled at me occasionally when I shifted, but Hazel had given me more tonics than I could count last night, while simultaneously erasing all traces of the Deep from my skin.
“We really should get up,” she whispered as the two of us were beginning to doze.
<<elseif $hazelsex == "false">> I curled our bodies close to each other, not allowing an inch of space to come between the two of us. Hazel was all soft curves and layers of patchwork skirts. Last night she had been my savior. Shushing me when the nightmares got too much and taking care of me when the chill of the Deep did not leave my skin. “I think it ended up perfect,” I told her. “I enjoyed the spontaneity of curling up in front of the fire.”
We laid like that for a bit, too cold to go out into the world and far too comfortable to even contemplate moving. In the soft light of her living room, I felt myself sink down into her sofa, our morning passing in a dull haze. My wounds still pulled at me occasionally when I shifted, but Hazel had given me more tonics than I could count last night, while simultaneously erasing all traces of the Deep from my skin.
“We really should get up,” she whispered as the two of us were beginning to doze. <</if>>
[[We should take the day off]]
[[You're right. We need to call the others here]]
[[Why do I suspect they are all going to come here whether we invite them or not]]<<if $hazelsex == "true">>Running my fingers against the base of her neck, I looked at her. There was something about her that had me captivated. That kept me coming back to her. I couldn’t, nor did I want to tear my gaze from her. “I don’t care how it happened,” I told her seriously. “I’m just incredibly happy that it did and that you were here."
Leaning down, she pressed her lips against mine, brushing against them sweetly as her hands wandered my body, pressing every bit of love she had into the dips of my skin.
We laid like that for a bit, too cold to go out into the world and far too comfortable to even contemplate moving. In the soft light of her room, I felt myself sink down into her mattress, our morning passing in a dull haze. My wounds still pulled at me occasionally when I shifted, but Hazel had given me more tonics than I could count last night, while simultaneously erasing all traces of the Deep from my skin.
“We really should get up,” she whispered as the two of us were beginning to doze.
<<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>Running my fingers against the base of her neck, I looked at her. There was something about her that had me captivated. That kept me coming back to her. I couldn’t, nor did I want to tear my gaze from her. “I don’t care what happened last night,” I told her seriously. “I’m just incredibly happy that you were here with me."
Leaning down, she pressed her lips against mine, brushing against them sweetly. A soft promise that she would never leave.
We laid like that for a bit, too cold to go out into the world and far too comfortable to even contemplate moving. In the soft light of her living room, I felt myself sink down into her sofa, our morning passing in a dull haze. My wounds still pulled at me occasionally when I shifted, but Hazel had given me more tonics than I could count last night, while simultaneously erasing all traces of the Deep from my skin.
“We really should get up,” she whispered as the two of us were beginning to doze. <</if>>
[[We should take the day off]]
[[You're right. We need to call the others here]]
[[Why do I suspect they are all going to come here whether we invite them or not]]<<if $hazelsex == "true">>“Let’s take the day off,” I whispered against her. My head was now pillowed on her chest as I drifted between wakefulness and beautiful Hazel filled dreams.
“You know as well as I do that even if I agreed to that, someone would be here to ruin our fun,” she giggled.
“Lock the doors,” I mumbled.
She shifted, tickling her fingers up and down my arm. “$name, we need to get up.” Her words floated to me in a breathy sing-song voice that felt more like a lullaby that had me drifting even further into the folds of the bed.
“Milo probably will be here in a few hours no matter what,” she said. “He was worried when I showed up, and you didn’t.”
“He didn’t really seem worried about me yesterday.”
She frowned. “It’s the Malcolm thing. I just know it is. He’s not usually this caustic.”
Rolling to my side, I propped myself up on my elbow, staring at her. It was with an effort to rouse myself from the bliss that I had been sliding towards. But I knew she was right. “About the Malcolm thing,” I started. <<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>“Let’s take the day off,” I whispered languidly, feeling sleep pull at every corner of my mind.
“You know as well as I do that even if I agreed to that, someone would be here to ruin our fun,” she giggled.
“Lock the doors,” I mumbled.
She shifted, tickling her fingers up and down my arm. “$name, we need to get up.” Her words floated to me in a breathy sing-song voice that felt more like a lullaby that had me drifting even further into the folds of the comforters around us.
“Milo probably will be here in a few hours no matter what,” she said. “He was worried when I showed up, and you didn’t.”
“He didn’t really seem worried about me yesterday.”
She frowned. “It’s the Malcolm thing. I just know it is. He’s not usually this caustic.”
It was with an effort to rouse myself from the bliss that I had been sliding towards. But I knew she was right. “About the Malcolm thing,” I started.<</if>>
[[How do you want to tell Milo we saw Malcolm?]]
[[How do you want to go about getting Malcolm out?]]
[[Are you positive that was him?]]
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>I groaned. I knew she was right, but the warmth of the bed was calling, and leaving it was quite honestly the last thing I wanted to do. Staying beneath the patch worked quilts in a tangle of limbs, felt far more pleasant than facing the world today. But the Barons were still an issue. The Deep was still something to contend with, and going forward, we needed a far better plan that what we had in place.
“We need to get the others here,” I told her.
“Milo probably will be here in a few hours no matter what,” she said. “He was worried when I showed up, and you didn’t.”
“He didn’t really seem worried about me yesterday.”
She frowned. “It’s the Malcolm thing. I just know it is. He’s not usually this caustic.”
Rolling to my side, I propped myself up on my elbow, staring at her. “About the Malcolm thing,” I started. <<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>I groaned. I knew she was right, but the warmth of another long stretch of sleep was calling. Staying beneath the patch worked quilts, felt far more pleasant than facing the world today. But the Barons were still an issue. The Deep was still something to contend with, and going forward, we needed a far better plan that what we had in place.
“We need to get the others here,” I told her.
“Milo probably will be here in a few hours no matter what,” she said. “He was worried when I showed up, and you didn’t.”
“He didn’t really seem worried about me yesterday.”
She frowned. “It’s the Malcolm thing. I just know it is. He’s not usually this caustic.”
I hesitated. It was the one situation that I felt loomed heavily on the horizon. “About the Malcolm thing,” I started. <</if>>
[[How do you want to tell Milo we saw Malcolm?]]
[[How do you want to go about getting Malcolm out?]]
[[Are you positive that was him?]]
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>“I have a deep suspicion they are all going to show up whether we want them to or not,” I whispered to her. My head was now pillowed on her chest as I drifted between wakefulness and beautiful Hazel filled dreams.
“Gabriel will have enough respect not to barge through my door. But I am not sure about Milo or Belladonna.” Her fingers danced across my arms. A soothing motion and one I clung to in hopes that it would drive everyone else away. “$name, we need to get up.” Her words floated to me in a breathy sing-song voice that felt more like a lullaby that had me drifting even further into the folds of the bed.
“Milo probably will be here in a few hours no matter what,” she said. “He was worried when I showed up, and you didn’t.”
“He didn’t really seem worried about me yesterday.”
She frowned. “It’s the Malcolm thing. I just know it is. He’s not usually this caustic.”
Rolling to my side, I propped myself up on my elbow, staring at her. It was with an effort to rouse myself from the bliss that I had been sliding towards. But I knew she was right. “About the Malcolm thing,” I started. <<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>“Let’s take the day off,” I whispered languidly, feeling sleep pull at every corner of my mind.
“You know as well as I do that even if I agreed to that, someone would be here to ruin our fun,” she giggled.
“Lock the doors,” I mumbled.
She shifted, tickling her fingers up and down my arm. “$name, we need to get up.” Her words floated to me in a breathy sing-song voice that felt more like a lullaby that had me drifting even further into the folds of the comforters around us.
“Milo probably will be here in a few hours no matter what,” she said. “He was worried when I showed up, and you didn’t.”
“He didn’t really seem worried about me yesterday.”
She frowned. “It’s the Malcolm thing. I just know it is. He’s not usually this caustic.”
It was with an effort to rouse myself from the bliss that I had been sliding towards. But I knew she was right. “About the Malcolm thing,” I started.<</if>>
[[How do you want to tell Milo we saw Malcolm?]]
[[How do you want to go about getting Malcolm out?]]
[[Are you positive that was him?]]
“You’re going to have to tell Milo what happened,” I said.
Her eyes ticked away nervously. Milo was the wild card in all this. While I wasn’t positive what all his relationship with Malcolm had entailed, it was clear that they had been close. Hazel said they were in love, Milo avoided even saying the man's name. Whether he was alive or not was not something either of them had agreed on from the get go. And now that Hazel had confirmation, I wondered if he would believe her. Or if he would wash this away as another false hope as well.
“I thought he would be happier about all this,” she said softly. “That’s what I really don’t understand. I mean, I got it in the beginning. He didn’t want to have hope. Milo doesn’t do good with grief. But now? We’ve had so many times when signs have since pointed that Malcolm is alive. That he could return to us. And he just shoves them all away."
I shook my head. I wasn’t one to pretend to know the inner workings of Milo Next. But I did agree with her. Something else entirely was going on. “Maybe it is still the hope thing. Maybe he is someone that won’t believe it until Malcolm is standing right in front of him.”
Hazel smiled sadly at that. “It will be good for Milo to have someone again.”
“You really think they’ll get back together? After all this time?”
“I really do,” Hazel said. “I’m not saying they were the love to end all love. They hid it most of the time. But, I think they understood each other in ways that I never could. They were good for each other.”
Downstairs, the door banged open. Both our eyes ticked towards the door as Mr. Billows hopped to the floor and pawed open the wood door to head down to the apothecary.
“I bet that’s Milo,” Hazel said, slipping out from under the comforter. She handed me some clothes. Fresh ones from my room as opposed to the unsalvageable ones that I had come home in. “We’ll talk about how we can get Malcolm back later. We need to probably fill everyone else in first. Let them know that you are okay.”
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>I looked at her longingly. There would be a day that the world wasn’t in peril. There would be a time when we could spend long and languid days in bed. When we wouldn’t have to get up until the lanterns dimmed. Where we could eat good food and not worry about the world that was passing by.
A crash sounded downstairs.
“Yup,” Hazel said. “Definitely Milo.” She tossed a smile over her shoulder as she slipped out the door. Before shutting it, she gave me a coy look. “Take your time, okay? You’ve had a long night.” Winking, she shut the door behind her. <<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>Sighing, I took the clothes from her, looking down at the salt crusted ones I was still in. "You really should have made me change last night," I told her.
"You looked so comfy in front of the fire I didn't want to move you."
A crash sounded downstairs.
“Yup,” Hazel said. “Definitely Milo. I better get down there before he destroys whatever it is he is destroying."<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Eight H]]<<if $hazelsex == "true">>“How are we going to go about getting him out of there?” I asked her. Now that we knew it was him, I wasn’t going to sit by and let that man suffer. Hazel had spent years trying to retrieve her brother from wherever he was at and now that we had something to go off of, I didn’t think it was possible for me to sit back and let her do it alone.
Hazel shifted, looking nervous. “You sure you want to be involved in this? You have so much more going on.”
Cupping her face, I stared into her eyes. The ones that had seen and lost so much already. “You’re not alone in this,” I told her. “He’s been gone far too long. It’s time to bring him home.”
Tears spilled across my fingers as she blinked at me, her own hand coming up to cup my cheek. For so long, Hazel had sat in this, adrift from the rest of the world. It was her alone that contained the belief that Malcolm was alive. That he was not beyond the ability to save. But it had beaten her down over the years and I could see how tired it had made her become.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Leaning down, I kissed her softly, breathing the sweet smell of her in and feeling her shift softly against me.
When we pulled apart, she bit her lip, looking at me hesitantly. “I- I might have a way. I would need to do a little more research but I’ve tried bringing him home a few times before. But because I didn’t have a location for him, it was hard to latch on to his essence. I always figured it was because the Night Market hadn’t dragged him home yet but now I know it’s because he didn’t quite know who he was. It’s hard to call out to someone who has forgotten who they are.”
“Since we know he’s in the Deep, could you use that location as a starting point to find him?”
“Kind of. It would work best if I had something that tied him back here but I don’t know what that is yet. But if I can triangulate his location down there, I might not need it at all.”
“What do you need from me?”
Downstairs, the door banged open. Both our eyes ticked towards the bedroom door as Mr. Billows hopped off the bed and pawed open the wood door to head down to the apothecary.
“I bet that’s Milo,” Hazel said, slipping out from under the comforter. She handed me some clothes. Fresh ones from my room as opposed to the unsalvageable ones that I had come home in. “We’ll talk about how we can get Malcolm back later. We need to probably fill everyone else in first. Let them know that you are okay.”
I looked at her longingly. There would be a day that the world wasn’t in peril. There would be a time when we could spend long and languid days in bed. When we wouldn’t have to get up until the lanterns dimmed. Where we could eat good food and not worry about the world that was passing by.
A crash sounded downstairs.
“Yup,” Hazel said. “Definitely Milo.” She tossed a smile over her shoulder as she slipped out the door. Before shutting it, she gave me a coy smile. “Take your time, okay? You’ve had a long night.” Winking, she shut the door behind her.
<<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>“How are we going to go about getting him out of there?” I asked her. Now that we knew it was him, I wasn’t going to sit by and let that man suffer. Hazel had spent years trying to retrieve him from wherever he was at and now that we had something to go off of, I didn’t think it was possible for me to sit back and let her do it alone.
Hazel shifted, looking nervous. “You sure you want to be involved in this? You have so much more going on.”
Cupping her face, I stared into her eyes. The ones that had seen and lost so much already. “You’re not alone in this,” I told her. “He’s been gone far too long. It’s time to bring him home.”
Tears spilled across my fingers as she blinked at me, her own hand coming up to cup my cheek. For so long, Hazel had sat in this, adrift from the rest of the world. It was her alone that contained the belief that Malcolm was alive. That he was not beyond the ability to save. But it had beaten her down over the years and I could see how tired it had made her become.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Leaning down, I kissed her softly, breathing the sweet smell of her in and feeling her shift softly against me.
When we pulled apart, she bit her lip, looking at me hesitantly. “I- I might have a way. I would need to do a little more research but I’ve tried bringing him home a few times before. But because I didn’t have a location for him, it was hard to latch on to his essence. I always figured it was because the Night Market hadn’t dragged him home yet but now I know it’s because he didn’t quite know who he was. It’s hard to call out to someone who has forgotten who they are.”
“Since we know he’s in the Deep, could you use that location as a starting point to find him?”
“Kind of. It would work best if I had something that tied him back here but I don’t know what that is yet. But if I can triangulate his location down there, I might not need it at all.”
“What do you need from me?”
Downstairs, the door banged open. Both our eyes ticked towards the bedroom door as Mr. Billows hopped off the bed and pawed open the wood door to head down to the apothecary.
“I bet that’s Milo,” Hazel said, slipping out from under the comforter. She handed me some clothes. Fresh ones from my room as opposed to the unsalvageable ones that I had come home in. “We’ll talk about how we can get Malcolm back later. We need to probably fill everyone else in first. Let them know that you are okay.”
Sighing, I took the clothes from her, looking down at the salt crusted ones I was still in. "You really should have made me change last night," I told her.
"You looked so comfy in front of the fire I didn't want to move you."
A crash sounded downstairs.
“Yup,” Hazel said. “Definitely Milo. I better get down there before he destroys whatever it is he is destroying."<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Eight H]]I looked at her hesitantly. After last night, the very last thing I ever wanted to do was upset her. But I had to ask. “Are you positive that was him?” I didn’t know Malcolm. I didn’t know what he looked like. What he sounded like. What his traits might be. But Hazel grew up with him. Had known him her entire life. If she said that was him, I was hard-pressed to believe otherwise.
“It is,” she said firmly. “I think he is struggling to remember himself. That’s why I haven’t been able to call him home. He can’t answer if he doesn’t even know who he is.”
“How do you //know// though? I want to believe you but I want to make sure that you aren’t heartbroken at the end of all this is we end up being wrong.”
“I can’t give you a definitive,” she said. “I wish I could but I just can’t. But I know him. I know my brother better than I know myself and that was him. I swear it was.”
Steadily, I looked at her. I didn’t see an ounce of hesitation on her face. The man who spoke with us through Anemone was Malcolm Albright. And I was not going to say otherwise.
Leaning forward, I kissed her. “Then, it looks like we need to get him home,” I whispered against her lips. When I felt her smile against me, a shaky sigh of relief coursing through her, I knew I had said the right thing. Hazel needed someone to believe in her and I wanted to be that person more than anything.
Downstairs, the door banged open. Both our eyes ticked towards the bedroom door as Mr. Billows hopped off the bed and pawed open the wood door to head down to the apothecary.
“I bet that’s Milo,” Hazel said, slipping out from under the comforter. She handed me some clothes. Fresh ones from my room as opposed to the unsalvageable ones that I had come home in. “We’ll talk about how we can get Malcolm back later. We need to probably fill everyone else in first. Let them know that you are okay.”
<<if $hazelsex == "true">>I looked at her longingly. There would be a day that the world wasn’t in peril. There would be a time when we could spend long and languid days in bed. When we wouldn’t have to get up until the lanterns dimmed. Where we could eat good food and not worry about the world that was passing by.
A crash sounded downstairs.
“Yup,” Hazel said. “Definitely Milo.” She tossed a smile over her shoulder as she slipped out the door. Before shutting it, she gave me a coy smile. “Take your time, okay? You’ve had a long night.” Winking, she shut the door behind her. <<elseif $hazelsex == "false">>Sighing, I took the clothes from her, looking down at the salt crusted ones I was still in. "You really should have made me change last night," I told her.
"You looked so comfy in front of the fire I didn't want to move you."
A crash sounded downstairs.
“Yup,” Hazel said. “Definitely Milo. I better get down there before he destroys whatever it is he is destroying."<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Eight H]]Getting dressed, I took my time, still hovering in the moment with Hazel. A soft smile was on my face at the thought of her. Knowing that at the end of the night, I was allowed to reach out to her. To kiss her if I wished. To hold her. It was a boost to the darkness that I hadn’t known I needed. The thought of her smile and the care that she gave me was one that I held dearly. A secret that was mine and mine alone. I wanted nothing more than to return to the soft little bubble her and I had created and exist within it in any way she would have me.
But when I came downstairs, I had a feeling that bubble was about to be popped. There was a charge to the air that hadn’t been there before. As if something heavy was looming and threatening to fall upon all of us, crushing us beneath its weight.
“You’re not seriously going to do this, are you?” Milo was looking at Hazel incredulously, the two of them gathered around the small table off to the right. A breakfast stew was bubbling on the hearth and bowls were set out for more than just the three of us. I was almost certain Hazel would have already called Belladonna and Gabriel here.
“It was him, Milo. I know it was,” she whispered.
“No, you know what a seer told you. You don’t know anything for sure, Hazel. You may be willing to take the word of a stranger but I am not.”
Hazel looked irritated, matching Milo’s scowl, but she was trying to keep her voice calm. “I know what I saw, Milo. And the fact that you won’t believe me is starting to hurt far more than it ever did in the beginning when we truly did have nothing to go on.”
“This is far bigger than whether or not I believe you,” he hissed. “You know that.”
“What is that even supposed to mean? You either believe me or you do not but for you to sit here and constantly accuse me–”
“Where are all the birds, Hazel?” Milo asked. “That back area near the creek used to be full of wildlife. Where are they?” She froze at his question, her eyes staring at him as he challenged her. The two of them refusing to even breathe.
When the front door dinged, I jumped. Gabriel stepped through, dressed in a heavier cloak to beat back the cold, his hair slicked back and eyes piercing like normal. When they fell upon Hazel and Milo, he merely nodded to them. It was me, hovering near the back of the shop, that gave him pause.
“Good morning,” he said in greeting. Both Milo and Hazel followed his gaze and stepped apart. Though I could tell that the conversation was far from over. “I heard from Caliban that you made it safely out of the Deep. It was an odd discussion though I am happy to hear that you are for the most part okay.” He frowned as he looked at the few bruises and cuts still littering my skin. “Though I suppose his definition of okay and mine are a tad different.”
Normally, I would have responded to that, but with what I had just walked in on, I didn’t think I could. Hazel moved as if she were going to go stir the stew, but Milo’s eyes were following her, his fists twitching at his side.
“Did I interrupt something,” Gabriel asked, clearly reading the room.
I swallowed. “We may have made contact with Malcolm in the Deep,” I answered for them. It was probably better that it was all out on the table now.
“You can’t know that,” Milo said frustrated. Normally, Hazel would stay quiet but whatever had happened in the Deep had lit a renewed fire in her when it came to her brother. Now, she whirled on Milo instead.
“And you can’t know that we are even wrong,” she snapped.
“Right or wrong isn’t really the issue here,” he told her. “It’s what you are doing that bothers me far more.”
[[Hazel, what is he talking about?]]
[[Milo, leave her alone]]
[[Maybe we should table this for now]]
The streets were dusted with melting ice as we walked away from the Dollhouse and away from the bright sunlamps. The world felt darker suddenly, now that we were in the absence of light. I didn’t know where we were going. Gabriel’s eyes were set straight forward, his jaw in a hard line as he stared ahead. A few times, I tried to say something, anything to help with whatever had transpired, but nothing felt adequate. So I simply walked with him. A silent presence, ready to be there for him if he needed it.
He dropped me off at the three-tiered fountain. When he didn’t escort me all the way down the burnt out alley I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he knew. He knew where I would end my night tonight and I didn’t know whether I should feel guilty for leaving him to go to her, or if I just felt sad for a side of him that had been so thoroughly exposed. He didn’t give me an opportunity to question either though as he turned and walked away, disappearing beneath the lantern lights beyond, headed, I hoped, so some sort of comfort.
Turning from the fountain and from the burnt out alley, I headed towards the pink hued lights in the distance. My feet carried me towards her, just as she had asked. My arms wrapping around myself in a soft squeeze in a vain attempt to distract myself from the images that had danced about the overly bright and lavish estate.
The Pleasure District was empty when I stepped through the arches. The burnt sugary scent of ambrosia was gone from the air and the palace that was always bursting with life and song, had its doors closed, windows shut, and was still for the night.
Belladonna stood at a fountain. She looked up at the statue of two lovers intertwined together, hands grasping at thick thighs, heads arched back in passion. She didn’t turn as I walked towards her. Her hands were clasped behind her back and her eyes cast forward in gentle contemplation.
“So,” she started. “Now you know.”
I came to stand at her side. “I’m not exactly sure what I know,” I told her.
It was quiet, the rippling of the water a soothing balm after the burn from the heat lamps. “Are you alright?” she whispered to me.
[[No. That place was horrible]]
[[I hate him]]
[[I feel horrible for Gabriel]]“That place was horrible,” I said, my voice equally as low. “I know you tried to prepare me, you all did really, but, I don’t know if you can prepare anyone for what is being done in there. Was that really all by choice? Did those people actually choose to do that? To follow him?”
Belladonna looked just as uncomfortable with the notion, but she did nod. “It is easy to manipulate people who already feel lost. These are people who did not see the value in their lives or perhaps even themselves. They weren’t able to find the help that they needed, $name. They could not find it in them to love themselves and maybe they had no one around to remind them that they were deserving of so much more.” Tipping her head back, I could see that it painted her. That the people that were wandering that estate, the dolls, were not ones that sat right with her. “I don’t presume to know what went through the minds of those who walked through those gates, saw what Elias offered, and did not immediately turn around. And long ago I stopped felling pity for them. Only anger that they couldn’t be better. Or perhaps anger that the world couldn’t have helped them be better.”
Red hair fell in front of Belladonna’s face as she wiped discreetly at her cheeks. “I sent Reese to Gabriel. He’ll help him tonight.”
I frowned. “Reese? As in…?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “He’s alive.”
The man in the painting. The living, breathing painting, made from the distorted figures of the dolls. Elias had looked at the wall hanging with such love. Gabriel with such horror. “Elias thinks him dead.”
“And it must stay that way, $name.” Belladonna turned to me, a sudden urgency lacing her voice. “Promise me it will stay that way. I beg of you.” Suddenly, I could believe in the girl she spoke of. The one that had been lost and alone. Who had been betrayed. Who had traveled the market with such sorrow. I could believe she had existed because for the first time, Belladonna looked vulnerably human
I stuttered. “Of course. I– you can trust me. Why does Elias think him dead though?”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly and I wondered if she had meant to tell me of Reese. Or if she had for the first time, slipped up. “We thought it would be better that way. There are many times when I became unsure if we did the right thing but….” she stepped away from the fountain. “No matter. It was a lifetime ago. Too far gone for us to do anything but mourn.”
Walking, she sat down on a bench, scooting to the side so I could sit next to her. I followed, the two of us staring out over the quiet district.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“I closed the district for the night. I didn’t wish to witness such revelry.”
“You can do that?”
“Obviously.”
Kicking my feet back and forth, I observed the district. Without the half naked bodies and the ambrosia filling the air, the entire district looked almost normal.
“May I ask you something?” Belladonna intoned.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to answer.” But I desperately hoped I would be able to.
Gaze soft and young, she looked contemplatively out at the district that she had controlled with a flick of her wrist. The lengths she must have gone to get here were not ones I envied. “Do you believe in redemption?” she asked.
[[Yes|Chapter Eight B yes]]
[[No|Chapter Eight B no]]
[[Depends on the circumstance]]“I hate him,” I said without hesitation. “I hate everything about that Baron. More so than anything I have encountered in the Night Market. I know you warned me that this would not be an easy path but, Belladonna, the horrors that I witnessed there? How can it exist in such abundance? How can we just sit back and allow it?”
“It is easy to cower in the face of power,” she said softly.
“But there are others who have power that surly could do something,” I insisted.
“You cannot arrest a Baron,” she said sadly. “Not matter how horrendous their deeds are. They are above it all, sweetling. Only the Night Market itself can change the way our world works.”
And there it was, once again. The Barons. These nine that were set so high above others, built on the foundation of the ones who actually mattered in this world. They wouldn’t topple without brute force. Everyone was held at the whims of their actions and when they did stand up, it didn’t seem like it ended in anything but tragedy.
“And the other Barons. Is there not a morally good one among them?” Was this done under the noses of eight others that just didn’t care. It was doubtful that someone like Elias was not flaunting his proclivities.
“Barons do not get involved with other Barons,” Belladonna repeated. “They all stay out of each other's business and their ways. It’s how it has existed for years.” She paused for a moment. “Perhaps the stars are changing though. Perhaps this will not be the case for much longer.”
I contemplated what she meant by that and wondered if what we were doing would have far-flung consequences that would shift how the market itself conducted business. If it would topple the rule of the Barons. Maybe, by stealing bits of their power, we could do something in the end. When the dust settled on the notion of the world ceasing to exist.
Red hair fell in front of Belladonna’s face as she wiped discreetly at her cheeks. “I sent Reese to Gabriel. He’ll help him tonight.”
I frowned. “Reese? As in…?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “He’s alive.”
The man in the painting. The living, breathing painting, made from the distorted figures of the dolls. Elias had looked at the wall hanging with such love. Gabriel with such horror. “Elias thinks him dead.”
“And it must stay that way, $name.” Belladonna turned to me, a sudden urgency lacing her voice. “Promise me it will stay that way. I beg of you.” Suddenly, I could believe in the girl she spoke of. The one that had been lost and alone. Who had been betrayed. Who had traveled the market with such sorrow. I could believe she had existed because for the first time, Belladonna looked vulnerably human
I stuttered. “Of course. I– you can trust me. Why does Elias think him dead though?”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly and I wondered if she had meant to tell me of Reese. Or if she had for the first time, slipped up. “We thought it would be better that way. There are many times when I became unsure if we did the right thing but….” she stepped away from the fountain. “No matter. It was a lifetime ago. Too far gone for us to do anything but mourn.”
Walking, she sat down on a bench, scooting to the side so I could sit next to her. I followed, the two of us staring out over the quiet district.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“I closed the district for the night. I didn’t wish to witness such revelry.”
“You can do that?”
“Obviously.”
Kicking my feet back and forth, I observed the district. Without the half naked bodies and the ambrosia filling the air, the entire district looked almost normal.
“May I ask you something?” Belladonna intoned.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to answer.” But I desperately hoped I would be able to.
Gaze soft and young, she looked contemplatively out at the district that she had controlled with a flick of her wrist. The lengths she must have gone to get here were not ones I envied. “Do you believe in redemption?” she asked.
[[Yes|Chapter Eight B yes]]
[[No|Chapter Eight B no]]
[[Depends on the circumstance]]“I’m not physically hurt.” Mentally, I was unsure. I was unaware if what I had seen was truly real. It all felt a distant dream that thrummed at the back of m eyes. I was glad there was no sunlight within the market proper. I suddenly didn’t think I could stomach it. “I feel horrible for Gabriel,” I said after a long moment. Remembering the loss of hope I had seen cross his face after we had left the estate. The way Elias had clung to him, screaming. No one should have to go through that. Especially when it came to someone they cared about.
Next to me, Belladonna kept her eyes forward, but I could hear the pain in her own voice as well. “How is he?”
“I don’t know. He was quiet after we left. It got messy. The Baron… a woman spilled water on Gabriel and I thought the Baron would kill her.”
Belladonna didn’t look surprised by this. Not even in the slightest. I didn’t know if that meant she had been through this with the Baron before. Or perhaps the Dollmakers antic far preceded him. Either way, I could see her eyes grow wet, red tears gathering at the corners of her soft gaze.
“Did Gabriel stop him?”
“Yes. Barely. But yes.” But there was so much more he had turned a blind eye to. Things that I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to put down within the market itself. He had turned his cheek to all of them, denying their very existence until it had spiraled out of control. “I know this is supposed to be his father or something but shouldn’t he arrest him for that?”
“You cannot arrest a Baron,” she said sadly. “Not matter how horrendous their deeds are. They are above it all, sweetling. Only the Night Market itself can change the way our world works.”
And there it was, once again. The Barons. These nine that were set so high above others, built on the foundation of the ones who actually mattered in this world. They wouldn’t topple without brute force. Everyone was held at the whims of their actions and when they did stand up, it didn’t seem like it ended in anything but tragedy.
Red hair fell in front of Belladonna’s face as she wiped discreetly at her cheeks. “I sent Reese to Gabriel. He’ll help him tonight.”
I frowned. “Reese? As in…?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “He’s alive.”
The man in the painting. The living, breathing painting, made from the distorted figures of the dolls. Elias had looked at the wall hanging with such love. Gabriel with such horror. “Elias thinks him dead.”
“And it must stay that way, $name.” Belladonna turned to me, a sudden urgency lacing her voice. “Promise me it will stay that way. I beg of you.” Suddenly, I could believe in the girl she spoke of. The one that had been lost and alone. Who had been betrayed. Who had traveled the market with such sorrow. I could believe she had existed because for the first time, Belladonna looked vulnerably human
I stuttered. “Of course. I– you can trust me. Why does Elias think him dead though?”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly and I wondered if she had meant to tell me of Reese. Or if she had for the first time, slipped up. “We thought it would be better that way. There are many times when I became unsure if we did the right thing but….” she stepped away from the fountain. “No matter. It was a lifetime ago. Too far gone for us to do anything but mourn.”
Walking, she sat down on a bench, scooting to the side so I could sit next to her. I followed, the two of us staring out over the quiet district.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“I closed the district for the night. I didn’t wish to witness such revelry.”
“You can do that?”
“Obviously.”
Kicking my feet back and forth, I observed the district. Without the half naked bodies and the ambrosia filling the air, the entire district looked almost normal.
“May I ask you something?” Belladonna intoned.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to answer.” But I desperately hoped I would be able to.
Gaze soft and young, she looked contemplatively out at the district that she had controlled with a flick of her wrist. The lengths she must have gone to get here were not ones I envied. “Do you believe in redemption?” she asked.
[[Yes|Chapter Eight B yes]]
[[No|Chapter Eight B no]]
[[Depends on the circumstance]]It was an odd question but one I could tell was weighing heavy against her. There was something Belladonna was struggling with that she didn’t know how to voice just yet. I thought for a moment before answering. Not out of the desire to get this right, but out of respect for her. I wanted to believe what I was saying as well.
“Yes,” I finally said. “I believe we are all deserving of forgiveness. Especially if we show guilt over our actions.”
She had no reaction to my words, only mulling them about inside the depths of the quiet night. “I sometimes wonder if we hand out forgiveness and redemption based on how much we care for a person. We obviously would give forgiveness to a person we loved or had once loved, over a stranger. But why are people closer to us more deserving of second chances? I do not know if those should only come based on how well liked a person may be.” Standing, Belladonna sighed. Smoothing out her dress, she looked up towards the blush colored lanterns. “Something to ponder in the upcoming days, perhaps.”
I frowned. “Belladonna, do you know something?”
“Perhaps.” The doors to the main hall opened and the burnt scent of sugar began to waft through the air. “The world is growing cold, little muse,” she said. “Go home and get in a warm bath.”
The flutter of wings sounded steadily through the night. I tipped my chin up, looking towards the lantern filled sky for their source. But as always, nothing. Instead, when I turned back, Belladonna was gone once more. Leaving me alone like she always did.
I sighed. “One day you’re not going to be able to run,” I whispered.
I heard her laughter on the wind. “But today is not that day, dear heart.”
The district began to fill again, courtesans and their clients coming out from small tents I had not noticed before. Before they could resume whatever their previous activities had been, I slipped beneath the arched gates to head back to the apothecary. Doing what Belladonna asked.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]It was an odd question but one I could tell was weighing heavy against her. There was something Belladonna was struggling with that she didn’t know how to voice just yet. I thought for a moment before answering. Not out of the desire to get this right, but out of respect for her. I wanted to believe what I was saying as well.
“No,” I finally said. “I know it sounds harsh, but there are people out there that I don’t believe deserve forgiveness. And I think if you give it to them, they only repeat their crimes over and over again.”
She had no reaction to my words, only mulling them about inside the depths of the quiet night. “I sometimes wonder if we hand out forgiveness and redemption based on how much we care for a person. We obviously would give forgiveness to a person we loved or had once loved, over a stranger. But why are people closer to us more deserving of second chances? I do not know if those should only come based on how well liked a person may be.” Standing, Belladonna sighed. Smoothing out her dress, she looked up towards the blush colored lanterns. “Something to ponder in the upcoming days, perhaps.”
I frowned. “Belladonna, do you know something?”
“Perhaps.” The doors to the main hall opened and the burnt scent of sugar began to waft through the air. “The world is growing cold, little muse,” she said. “Go home and get in a warm bath.”
The flutter of wings sounded steadily through the night. I tipped my chin up, looking towards the lantern filled sky for their source. But as always, nothing. Instead, when I turned back, Belladonna was gone once more. Leaving me alone like she always did.
I sighed. “One day you’re not going to be able to run,” I whispered.
I heard her laughter on the wind. “But today is not that day, dear heart.”
The district began to fill again, courtesans and their clients coming out from small tents I had not noticed before. Before they could resume whatever their previous activities had been, I slipped beneath the arched gates to head back to the apothecary. Doing what Belladonna asked.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]It was an odd question but one I could tell was weighing heavy against her. There was something Belladonna was struggling with that she didn’t know how to voice just yet. “I guess it depends. I’m almost certain you are talking about something specific but I won’t ask because I doubt you’ll tell me.”
“Astute”
I thought for a moment before answering. Not out of the desire to get this right, but out of respect for her. I wanted to believe what I was saying as well. “I believe redemption is circumstantial. Does the person who is seeking forgiveness feel truly remorseful for what they have done, or are they only seeking redemption because they don’t like someone being angry at them.”
She had no reaction to my words, only mulling them about inside the depths of the quiet night. “I sometimes wonder if we hand out forgiveness and redemption based on how much we care for a person. We obviously would give forgiveness to a person we loved or had once loved, over a stranger. But why are people closer to us more deserving of second chances? I do not know if those should only come based on how well liked a person may be.” Standing, Belladonna sighed. Smoothing out her dress, she looked up towards the blush colored lanterns. “Something to ponder in the upcoming days, perhaps.”
I frowned. “Belladonna, do you know something?”
“Perhaps.” The doors to the main hall opened and the burnt scent of sugar began to waft through the air. “The world is growing cold, little muse,” she said. “Go home and get in a warm bath.”
The flutter of wings sounded steadily through the night. I tipped my chin up, looking towards the lantern filled sky for their source. But as always, nothing. Instead, when I turned back, Belladonna was gone once more. Leaving me alone like she always did.
I sighed. “One day you’re not going to be able to run,” I whispered.
I heard her laughter on the wind. “But today is not that day, dear heart.”
The district began to fill again, courtesans and their clients coming out from small tents I had not noticed before. Before they could resume whatever their previous activities had been, I slipped beneath the arched gates to head back to the apothecary. Doing what Belladonna asked.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]The streets were dusted with melting ice as we walked away from the Dollhouse and away from the bright sunlamps. The world felt darker suddenly, now that we were in the absence of light. I didn’t know where we were going. Gabriel’s eyes were set straight forward, his jaw in a hard line as he stared ahead. A few times, I tried to say something, anything to help with whatever had transpired, but nothing felt adequate. So I simply walked with him. A silent presence, ready to be there for him if he needed it.
He dropped me off outside the apothecary. When I asked if he wanted to come inside, he said nothing. The sound of his boot steps echoed down the burnt out alley as he walked away from me then. I could only hope that he had some sort of comfort to go home to. We both needed something after tonight. I sent a silent prayer to a Knowing I didn’t believe in, that he would be okay.
The fire was blazing inside the hearth when I stepped inside the apothecary. Milo leaned forward, adding another log to it, brushing his hands upon his pants. Hazel was curled up on one of the patched couches, a mug of tea in her hand, a blanket over her lap. They both turned as the bell above the door rang.
Milo blinked. “That bad, huh?”
I knew it showed on my face. I knew more than anything that what I had seen today was an insight into Gabriel’s life that he had not wanted me to see. That he didn’t want anyone to see. The stitched smiles and the doll like blank gazes would haunt me well into the night.
With a sigh, Hazel held up her mug. “Whiskey?”
With heavy feet, I stumbled down towards where they had gathered, flopping down on one of the sofas. Hazel was curled up on the sofa across from me, a blanket wrapped around her, her cheeks flushed with drink.
“Is that really whiskey in there?” I asked Hazel, peering at her through slitted eyes. She just handed me her mug. I could smell the alcohol even before I took a sip. It burned as it went down but I knew I would need at least three more glasses of this to even attempt at forgetting what I saw. “We got the favor,” I told the two of them, digging the black string from my pocket.
Hazel took it from me, holding it up to the light. It was grey and tarnished, glittering with the light of what I now knew was tainted grace.
“Billows, can you put it with the others?” Mr. Billows chirped at her in a rolling mew, grasping it between his teeth and sauntering off. Not before he rubbed up against my ankles though. I felt slightly warm at the contact.
“Can I sleep for a week after this?” I asked.
Hazel groaned at the possibility. “All the sleep and Mr. Billows in the world,” she said with a sigh. “I say we make this happen.”
Milo snorted. “I say you’re drunk.” Grabbing an amber bottle, he poured some into his own cup, before grabbing another one for Hazel and topping off my own.
We sat, listening to the fire crackle and the beginnings of a storm rage outside. Milo looked up towards the ceiling as the branches began battering the room, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
“I don’t know why I think I’ll be able to sleep after the last few days,” I muttered. “Between the Deep and the Dollmaker, I may be due for a mental breakdown.”
“Mental breakdowns are overrated,” Milo said. “Drinking yourself into oblivion is far superior.”
“Maybe we could play a game?” Hazel suggested.
[[Yeah, lets play a game]]
[[No, drinking ourselves into oblivion is the far better option]]
Hazel was perking up at the possibility, bouncing a bit in her seat. Milo was right. She was drunk. Which meant that we would at least be able to beat her in the game of choice tonight. Otherwise, we rarely stood a chance during our weekly game nights.
“Yeah,” Milo said, seeming to come to the same conclusion I was. “You know, game night doesn’t sound bad. I’d be up for that.”
Sitting up, I nodded as well. “Yeah. Game night. That actually sounds kind of normal. I could use normal.”
Beneath the sofas were thin baskets filled with cards and different games. Hazel set them all out. I couldn’t remember how we chose which game to play, or even why, but what I do remember is laughing. Disappearing from the horrors of the mind for a few moments at a time until they finally stretched out into long moments where I didn’t remember stitched smiles or the angler fish swimming through the frigid depths.
Hazel passed out first, head in my lap. She was warm against my skin and setting me into a drowsy state. Across the way, I could see Milo in much the same predicament.
“I love her,” he said softly. “I’d do anything for her.”
“She’s your sister,” I told him. “I know.”
“I’m glad you understand that. Not many people do.” Taking a sipped, he tipped his head at me, gesturing for me to drink more.
I snorted, drink sloshing. Thankfully, it didn’t hit Hazel. “Milo, I don’t understand a damn thing about this world. But, I for some reason, get love. Stupid as that sounds. I’m glad you and Hazel have found each other. That you remained family.”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
I frowned, tilting my face towards him. “Are you alright?” I asked.
He smiled thinly at me. “Just don’t like seeing Hazel wrapped up in all this. Don’t like any of us wrapped up in all this.”
“It won’t be forever,” I told him.
“Yeah.” Though I got the distinct impression, he didn’t believe me.
Leaning forward, I poured the rest of my drink in his cup. “Gonna fall asleep now,” I slurred.
Outside, the storm surged and the wisps scattered. But inside it was warm, the fire still popping, the board game scattered across the table. I smiled when Mr. Billows hoped up and Milo tried to give him some of his drink.
I didn’t keep my eyes open long enough to find out if Billows took it.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shook my head. “I hate that I’m about to say this but drinking sounds so much better than anything else right now.”
“Hell yeah.” Hopping up, Milo went behind the apothecary counter and brought out a few jugs.
“Milo, moonshine is not the answer,” Hazel snorted.
“Moonshine is the answer.” I saw her make no protest as Milo began pouring fresh mugs filled with sweet smelling liquid. It was obviously homemade and obviously from Hazel’s hands. It also felt like the perfect answer to the end of such a horrid day. The alcohol burned as it went down, causing my face to twist and my eyes to water. Next to me, Hazel was coughing, acting in much the same way. I didn’t know if I needed to be concerned that Milo was drinking it like it was water.
Hazel passed out first, head in my lap. She was warm against my skin and setting me into a drowsy state. Across the way, I could see Milo in much the same predicament.
“I love her,” he said softly. “I’d do anything for her.”
“She’s your sister,” I told him. “I know.”
“I’m glad you understand that. Not many people do.” Taking a sipped, he tipped his head at me, gesturing for me to drink more.
I snorted, drink sloshing. Thankfully, it didn’t hit Hazel. “Milo, I don’t understand a damn thing about this world. But, I for some reason, get love. Stupid as that sounds. I’m glad you and Hazel have found each other. That you remained family.”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
I frowned, tilting my face towards him. “Are you alright?” I asked.
He smiled thinly at me. “Just don’t like seeing Hazel wrapped up in all this. Don’t like any of us wrapped up in all this.”
“It won’t be forever,” I told him.
“Yeah.” Though I got the distinct impression, he didn’t believe me.
Leaning forward, I poured the rest of my drink in his cup. “Gonna fall asleep now,” I slurred.
Outside, the storm surged and the wisps scattered. But inside it was warm, the fire still popping, the board game scattered across the table. I smiled when Mr. Billows hoped up and Milo tried to give him some of his drink.
I didn’t keep my eyes open long enough to find out if Billows took it.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]The streets were dusted with melting ice as we walked away from the Dollhouse and away from the bright sunlamps. The world felt darker suddenly, now that we were in the absence of light. I didn’t know where we were going. Gabriel’s eyes were set straight forward, his jaw in a hard line as he stared ahead. A few times, I tried to say something, anything to help with whatever had transpired, but nothing felt adequate. So I simply walked with him. A silent presence, ready to be there for him if he needed it.
He dropped me off outside the apothecary. When I asked if he wanted to come inside, he said nothing. The sound of his boot steps echoed down the burnt out alley as he walked away from me then. I could only hope that he had some sort of comfort to go home to. We both needed something after tonight. I sent a silent prayer to a Knowing I didn’t believe in, that he would be okay.
The fire was blazing inside the hearth when I stepped inside the apothecary. Milo leaned forward, adding another log to it, brushing his hands upon his pants. Hazel was curled up on one of the patched couches, a mug of tea in her hand, a blanket over her lap. They both turned as the bell above the door rang.
Milo blinked. “That bad, huh?”
I knew it showed on my face. I knew more than anything that what I had seen today was an insight into Gabriel’s life that he had not wanted me to see. That he didn’t want anyone to see. The stitched smiles and the doll like blank gazes would haunt me well into the night.
With a sigh, Hazel held up her mug. “Whiskey?”
With heavy feet, I stumbled down towards where they had gathered, flopping down on one of the sofas. Milo didn’t hesitate as he stepped forward. He gathered me against him, so my head rested heavily in his lap.
“What can I do?” he asked softly.
[[Help me forget]]
[[Hold me]]
[[Burn Elias and everything he stands for to the ground]]Turning my face into him, I felt myself shudder. The twisted smile of the dolls danced just at the edge of my vision. They peeked out of the darkness, bowing to me in falling succession until they were all bent and broken at my feet. Elias lingered in the background, ready to stitch them whole once more.
“Help me forget,” I whispered into Milo’s shirt. His fingers were cool against my skin, trying to soothe away the hurt in my mind.
“Whiskey will do that,” he said. I knew if I needed it though, he would take me away from this.
“Is that really whiskey in there?” I asked Hazel, peering at her through slitted eyes. She just handed me her mug. I could smell the alcohol even before I took a sip. It burned as it went down but I knew I would need at least three more glasses of this to even attempt at forgetting what I saw. “We got the favor,” I told the two of them, digging the black string from my pocket.
Hazel took it from me, holding it up to the light. It was grey and tarnished, glittering with the light of what I now knew was tainted grace.
“Billows, can you put it with the others?” Mr. Billows chirped at her in a rolling mew, grasping it between his teeth and sauntering off. Not before he rubbed up against my ankles though. I felt slightly warm at the contact.
“Can I sleep for a week after this?” I asked.
Milo ran his hand up and down my arm, applying just the right amount of pressure. “I think that would be nice for all of us, actually. It’s been a fucking crazy few days.” Grabbing an amber bottle, he poured some into his own cup, before grabbing another one for Hazel and topping off my own.
We sat, listening to the fire crackle and the beginnings of a storm rage outside. Milo looked up towards the ceiling as the branches began battering the room, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
“I don’t know why I think I’ll be able to sleep after the last few days,” I muttered. “Between the Deep and the Dollmaker, I may be due for a mental breakdown.”
“Mental breakdowns are overrated,” Milo said. “Drinking yourself into oblivion is far superior.”
“Maybe we could play a game?” Hazel suggested.
[[A game sounds perfect]]
[[I just want to drink]]
[[I think I’ll just head to bed]]
Turning my face into him, I felt myself shudder. The twisted smile of the dolls danced just at the edge of my vision. They peeked out of the darkness, bowing to me in falling succession until they were all bent and broken at my feet. Elias lingered in the background, ready to stitch them whole once more.
“Hold me,” I asked. Arms tightened around me as he bent practically over my body, sheltering me from the rest of the world. I cracked open one eye, peeking up at him. I could see his honeyed gaze lit softly underneath the curtain of shaggy hair.
“Like this?” he asked with a grin. I batted him away until the two of us laid more comfortably. Beside us, Hazel was giggling.
“Is that really whiskey in there?” I asked Hazel, peering at her through slitted eyes. She just handed me her mug. I could smell the alcohol even before I took a sip. It burned as it went down but I knew I would need at least three more glasses of this to even attempt at forgetting what I saw. “We got the favor,” I told the two of them, digging the black string from my pocket.
Hazel took it from me, holding it up to the light. It was grey and tarnished, glittering with the light of what I now knew was tainted grace.
“Billows, can you put it with the others?” Mr. Billows chirped at her in a rolling mew, grasping it between his teeth and sauntering off. Not before he rubbed up against my ankles though. I felt slightly warm at the contact.
“Can I sleep for a week after this?” I asked.
Milo ran his hand up and down my arm, applying just the right amount of pressure. “I think that would be nice for all of us, actually. It’s been a fucking crazy few days.” Grabbing an amber bottle, he poured some into his own cup, before grabbing another one for Hazel and topping off my own.
We sat, listening to the fire crackle and the beginnings of a storm rage outside. Milo looked up towards the ceiling as the branches began battering the room, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
“I don’t know why I think I’ll be able to sleep after the last few days,” I muttered. “Between the Deep and the Dollmaker, I may be due for a mental breakdown.”
“Mental breakdowns are overrated,” Milo said. “Drinking yourself into oblivion is far superior.”
“Maybe we could play a game?” Hazel suggested.
[[A game sounds perfect]]
[[I just want to drink]]
[[I think I’ll just head to bed]]
Turning my face into him, I felt myself shudder. The twisted smile of the dolls danced just at the edge of my vision. They peeked out of the darkness, bowing to me in falling succession until they were all bent and broken at my feet. Elias lingered in the background, ready to stitch them whole once more.
“Destroy Elias and everything he stands for,” I told Milo.
Milo looked as if he were contemplating this, nodding his head. “I could maybe swing something. Call in a few favors. Though, I do have to ask if you are okay with me becoming a Baron. Because if I kill him, well, you know…”
Hazel giggled from our side. “You being a Baron would be a scary day within the Night Market, Milo.” When she nearly toppled off her couch, I couldn’t help but turn my attention to her.
“Is that really whiskey in there?” I asked Hazel, peering at her through slitted eyes. She just handed me her mug. I could smell the alcohol even before I took a sip. It burned as it went down but I knew I would need at least three more glasses of this to even attempt at forgetting what I saw. “We got the favor,” I told the two of them, digging the black string from my pocket.
Hazel took it from me, holding it up to the light. It was grey and tarnished, glittering with the light of what I now knew was tainted grace.
“Billows, can you put it with the others?” Mr. Billows chirped at her in a rolling mew, grasping it between his teeth and sauntering off. Not before he rubbed up against my ankles though. I felt slightly warm at the contact.
“Can I sleep for a week after this?” I asked.
Milo ran his hand up and down my arm, applying just the right amount of pressure. “I think that would be nice for all of us, actually. It’s been a fucking crazy few days.” Grabbing an amber bottle, he poured some into his own cup, before grabbing another one for Hazel and topping off my own.
We sat, listening to the fire crackle and the beginnings of a storm rage outside. Milo looked up towards the ceiling as the branches began battering the room, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
“I don’t know why I think I’ll be able to sleep after the last few days,” I muttered. “Between the Deep and the Dollmaker, I may be due for a mental breakdown.”
“Mental breakdowns are overrated,” Milo said. “Drinking yourself into oblivion is far superior.”
“Maybe we could play a game?” Hazel suggested.
[[A game sounds perfect]]
[[I just want to drink]]
[[I think I’ll just head to bed]]
Milo and I exchanged a look. The idea itself felt out of place given what I had just seen. High emotion and barely concealed fear had shaken me apart before placing me back together with haphazard cracks against my skin. I should have just slept. Drank like Milo said, maybe. Then again, the last thing I wanted, was to be alone.
“Yeah,” Milo said. “You know, game night doesn’t sound bad. I’d be up for that.”
Sitting up, I nodded as well. “Yeah. Game night. That actually sounds kind of normal. I could use normal.”
Beneath the sofas were thin baskets filled with cards and different games. Hazel set them all out. I couldn’t remember how we chose which game to play, or even why, but what I do remember is laughing. Disappearing from the horrors of the mind for a few moments at a time until they finally stretched out into long moments where I didn’t remember stitched smiles or the angler fish swimming through the frigid depths.
Hazel passed out first, head in my lap. I had tipped mine towards Milo’s, resting it on his shoulder.
“I love her,” he said softly. “I’d do anything for her.”
“She’s your sister,” I told him. “I know.”
“I’m glad you understand that. Not many people do.”
I snorted, drink sloshing. Thankfully, it didn’t hit Hazel. “Milo, I don’t understand a damn thing about this world. But, I for some reason, get love. Stupid as that sounds. And you two are family.”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
I frowned, tilting my face towards him. “Are you alright?” I asked. “You seem a little off today.”
He smiled thinly at me. “Just glad you’re safe,” he whispered.
Curling up against him, I poured the rest of my drink in his cup. “Gonna fall asleep now,” I slurred. He rested his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, Hazel still rest against us. Outside, the storm surged and the wisps scattered. But inside it was warm, the fire still popping, the board game scattered across the table. I smiled when Mr. Billows hoped up and Milo tried to give him some of his drink.
I didn’t keep my eyes open long enough to find out if Billows took it.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shook my head. “I hate that I’m about to say this but drinking sounds so much better than anything else right now.”
“Hell yeah.” Hopping up, Milo went behind the apothecary counter and brought out a few jugs.
“Milo, moonshine is not the answer,” Hazel snorted.
“Moonshine is the answer.” I saw her make no protest as Milo began pouring fresh mugs filled with sweet smelling liquid. It was obviously homemade and obviously from Hazel’s hands. It also felt like the perfect answer to the end of such a horrid day. The alcohol burned as it went down, causing my face to twist and my eyes to water. Next to me, Hazel was coughing, acting in much the same way. I didn’t know if I needed to be concerned that Milo was drinking it like it was water.
Hazel passed out first, head in my lap. I had tipped mine towards Milo’s, resting it on his shoulder.
“I love her,” he said softly. “I’d do anything for her.”
“She’s your sister,” I told him. “I know.”
“I’m glad you understand that. Not many people do.”
I snorted, drink sloshing. Thankfully, it didn’t hit Hazel. “Milo, I don’t understand a damn thing about this world. But, I for some reason, get love. Stupid as that sounds. And you two are family.”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
I frowned, tilting my face towards him. “Are you alright?” I asked. “You seem a little off today.”
He smiled thinly at me. “Just glad you’re safe,” he whispered.
Curling up against him, I poured the rest of my drink in his cup. “Gonna fall asleep now,” I slurred. He rested his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, Hazel still rest against us. Outside, the storm surged and the wisps scattered. But inside it was warm, the fire still popping, the board game scattered across the table. I smiled when Mr. Billows hoped up and Milo tried to give him some of his drink.
I didn’t keep my eyes open long enough to find out if Billows took it.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]Shaking my head, I rose from the sofa, looking at the two of them regretfully. I knew they had been waiting for me. That neither of them, despite their earlier disagreement, were going to be able to leave without seeing that I was okay. But I didn’t think I could do it tonight. I didn’t think I could socialize. I just wanted to put the day behind me and to find peace.
“I think I’m just going to go to bed,” I told them. Milo’s hand was around my wrist and as I looked down at him, even he seemed surprised by his actions. I raised a brow to him, looking pointedly at my wrist.
“Sorry,” he said, frowning and letting his hand drop. “Reaction. But uh- would you like to sleep down here? I know my lap might not be very comfortable but it’s available if you’d like it.” His eyes were clouded with a bit of drink, red rimmed and eager to make the day different somehow. Across the way, Hazel was quiet, letting him handle this on his own.
I thought back to the soft and sleepy look he had late last night. Just before his eyes began to tip over into exhaustion. I missed seeing it this morning when we woke. And not curling up alone sounded like a far better option than waking in the middle of the night, worried dolls were lingering in each corner.
Without saying anything, I settled back down, placing my head in Milo’s lap again. He shifted beneath me, tense at first but slowly relaxing his body, his arm resting across me as a heavy and secure weight.
“I’ll put on some tea,” Hazel whispered. I’m not sure if Milo acknowledged her. Instead, he tucked my hair behind my ears and settled back.
“Headache still here?” he asked after a minute.
“Yeah.”
He began rubbing my temples gently, applying a bit more pressure at each pass. “Close your eyes, $name. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Curling my hand against his knee, I didn’t close my eyes. Not right away. Instead, I stared into the crackling fire and tried to let my mind empty. Above me, Milo continued to sit in constant vigil, running his fingers gently across my face in slow, trance like movements. Hazel set a steaming mug in front of me at some point, one in which Milo coaxed me to drink, but as the fire began to dim and she excused herself for the remainder of the night, Milo and I didn’t move.
“Milo?” I asked quietly, into the darkening shop.
“Yeah.”
But I didn’t know what to say. In the end, I just wanted to make sure that he was still there. That he wasn’t leaving. Because something, deep in the pit of my stomach, said that there was going to come a day when this could not happen any longer. And the two of us were becoming acutely aware of that.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]The streets were dusted with melting ice as we walked away from the Dollhouse and away from the bright sunlamps. The world felt darker suddenly, now that we were in the absence of light. I didn’t know where we were going. Gabriel’s eyes were set straight forward, his jaw in a hard line as he stared ahead. A few times, I tried to say something, anything to help with whatever had transpired, but nothing felt adequate. So I simply walked with him. A silent presence, ready to be there for him if he needed it.
He dropped me off outside the apothecary. When I asked if he wanted to come inside, he said nothing. The sound of his boot steps echoed down the burnt out alley as he walked away from me then. I could only hope that he had some sort of comfort to go home to. We both needed something after tonight. I sent a silent prayer to a Knowing I didn’t believe in, that he would be okay.
The fire was blazing inside the hearth when I stepped inside the apothecary. Milo leaned forward, adding another log to it, brushing his hands upon his pants. Hazel was curled up on one of the patched couches, a mug of tea in her hand, a blanket over her lap. They both turned as the bell above the door rang.
Milo blinked. “That bad, huh?”
I knew it showed on my face. I knew more than anything that what I had seen today was an insight into Gabriel’s life that he had not wanted me to see. That he didn’t want anyone to see. The stitched smiles and the doll like blank gazes would haunt me well into the night.
With a sigh, Hazel held up her mug. “Whiskey?”
With heavy feet, I stumbled down towards where they had gathered, flopping down on one of the sofas. Hazel scooted towards me then, situating herself so she was behind me on the couch, spooning against my back.
“Gross,” Milo snorted.
Hazel ignored him. “How can I help?”
[[I just want to forget about today]]
[[Hold me tonight]]
[[Use one of your curses to hex Elias and everything he loves]]
Turning my face into the cushions, I felt myself shudder. The twisted smile of the dolls danced just at the edge of my vision. They peeked out of the darkness, bowing to me in falling succession until they were all bent and broken at my feet. Elias lingered in the background, ready to stitch them whole once more.
“I just want to forget about today,” I told her.
“I have a tea for that,” she said hesitantly. I’m sure she did. The implication itself was something that was nearly terrifying to contemplate. I chose, instead, not to answer her.
“Is that really whiskey in there?” I asked Hazel, peering at her through slitted eyes. She just handed me her mug. I could smell the alcohol even before I took a sip. It burned as it went down but I knew I would need at least three more glasses of this to even attempt at forgetting what I saw. “We got the favor,” I told the two of them, digging the black string from my pocket.
Hazel took it from me, holding it up to the light. It was grey and tarnished, glittering with the light of what I now knew was tainted grace.
“Billows, can you put it with the others?” Mr. Billows chirped at her in a rolling mew, grasping it between his teeth and sauntering off. Not before he rubbed up against my ankles though. I felt slightly warm at the contact.
“Can I sleep for a week after this?” I asked.
Hazel ran her hand through my hair, scratching at my scalp and humming against the shell of my ear. “All the sleep and snuggles in the world,” she said with a sigh. “I say we make this happen.”
Milo snorted. “I say you’re drunk.” Grabbing an amber bottle, he poured some into his own cup, before grabbing another one for Hazel and topping off my own.
We sat, listening to the fire crackle and the beginnings of a storm rage outside. Milo looked up towards the ceiling as the branches began battering the room, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
“I don’t know why I think I’ll be able to sleep after the last few days,” I muttered. “Between the Deep and the Dollmaker, I may be due for a mental breakdown.”
“Mental breakdowns are overrated,” Milo said. “Drinking yourself into oblivion is far superior.”
“Maybe we could play a game?” Hazel suggested. I could feel her shift at my back, bouncing in that way that she did when she was excited.
[[Yeah, a game sounds good]]
[[No. I think Milo is right. Drinking into oblivion is the right plan]]
[[I just want to sleep]]
Turning my face into the cushions, I felt myself shudder. The twisted smile of the dolls danced just at the edge of my vision. They peeked out of the darkness, bowing to me in falling succession until they were all bent and broken at my feet. Elias lingered in the background, ready to stitch them whole once more.
“Hold me,” I whispered to her. “As tight as you can.” She tightened her hold on me, burying her own face between my shoulder blades and placing a gentle kiss there.
“Always,” she whispered to me. The liquid in the cup she still had clutched, now against my belly, sloshed a little over the side.
“Is that really whiskey in there?” I asked Hazel, peering at her through slitted eyes. She just handed me her mug. I could smell the alcohol even before I took a sip. It burned as it went down but I knew I would need at least three more glasses of this to even attempt at forgetting what I saw. “We got the favor,” I told the two of them, digging the black string from my pocket.
Hazel took it from me, holding it up to the light. It was grey and tarnished, glittering with the light of what I now knew was tainted grace.
“Billows, can you put it with the others?” Mr. Billows chirped at her in a rolling mew, grasping it between his teeth and sauntering off. Not before he rubbed up against my ankles though. I felt slightly warm at the contact.
“Can I sleep for a week after this?” I asked.
Hazel ran her hand through my hair, scratching at my scalp and humming against the shell of my ear. “All the sleep and snuggles in the world,” she said with a sigh. “I say we make this happen.”
Milo snorted. “I say you’re drunk.” Grabbing an amber bottle, he poured some into his own cup, before grabbing another one for Hazel and topping off my own.
We sat, listening to the fire crackle and the beginnings of a storm rage outside. Milo looked up towards the ceiling as the branches began battering the room, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
“I don’t know why I think I’ll be able to sleep after the last few days,” I muttered. “Between the Deep and the Dollmaker, I may be due for a mental breakdown.”
“Mental breakdowns are overrated,” Milo said. “Drinking yourself into oblivion is far superior.”
“Maybe we could play a game?” Hazel suggested. I could feel her shift at my back, bouncing in that way that she did when she was excited.
[[Yeah, a game sounds good]]
[[No. I think Milo is right. Drinking into oblivion is the right plan]]
[[I just want to sleep]]
Turning my face into the cushions, I felt myself shudder. The twisted smile of the dolls danced just at the edge of my vision. They peeked out of the darkness, bowing to me in falling succession until they were all bent and broken at my feet. Elias lingered in the background, ready to stitch them whole once more.
“I want you to hex him,” I said. “I want you to be able to curse Elias and everything he loves. Ruin his sense of perfection.”
Across the way, Milo raised his brow to me, looking shocked. Then, he raised his mug in solidarity, apparently behind what I had to say. Hazel, however, only pressed small and soothing kisses to my back.
“I think we’ll wait a few days before we think about something like that,” she murmured. The mug she clutched, sloshed a little as she shifted, getting more comfortable. My nose wrinkled at the scent of it.
“Is that really whiskey in there?” I asked Hazel, peering at her through slitted eyes. She just handed me her mug. I could smell the alcohol even before I took a sip. It burned as it went down but I knew I would need at least three more glasses of this to even attempt at forgetting what I saw. “We got the favor,” I told the two of them, digging the black string from my pocket.
Hazel took it from me, holding it up to the light. It was grey and tarnished, glittering with the light of what I now knew was tainted grace.
“Billows, can you put it with the others?” Mr. Billows chirped at her in a rolling mew, grasping it between his teeth and sauntering off. Not before he rubbed up against my ankles though. I felt slightly warm at the contact.
“Can I sleep for a week after this?” I asked.
Hazel ran her hand through my hair, scratching at my scalp and humming against the shell of my ear. “All the sleep and snuggles in the world,” she said with a sigh. “I say we make this happen.”
Milo snorted. “I say you’re drunk.” Grabbing an amber bottle, he poured some into his own cup, before grabbing another one for Hazel and topping off my own.
We sat, listening to the fire crackle and the beginnings of a storm rage outside. Milo looked up towards the ceiling as the branches began battering the room, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
“I don’t know why I think I’ll be able to sleep after the last few days,” I muttered. “Between the Deep and the Dollmaker, I may be due for a mental breakdown.”
“Mental breakdowns are overrated,” Milo said. “Drinking yourself into oblivion is far superior.”
“Maybe we could play a game?” Hazel suggested. I could feel her shift at my back, bouncing in that way that she did when she was excited.
[[Yeah, a game sounds good]]
[[No. I think Milo is right. Drinking into oblivion is the right plan]]
[[I just want to sleep]]
Craning my head to look behind me, I had to laugh. She had that goofy grin on her face and her eyes were slightly glazed over. Milo was right. She was drunk. Which meant that we would at least be able to beat her in the game of choice tonight. Otherwise, we rarely stood a chance during our weekly game nights.
“Yeah,” Milo said, seeming to come to the same conclusion I was. “You know, game night doesn’t sound bad. I’d be up for that.”
Sitting up, I nodded as well. “Yeah. Game night. That actually sounds kind of normal. I could use normal.”
Beneath the sofas were thin baskets filled with cards and different games. Hazel set them all out. I couldn’t remember how we chose which game to play, or even why, but what I do remember is laughing. Disappearing from the horrors of the mind for a few moments at a time until they finally stretched out into long moments where I didn’t remember stitched smiles or the angler fish swimming through the frigid depths.
Hazel passed out first, head in my lap. She was warm against my skin and setting me into a drowsy state. Across the way, I could see Milo in much the same predicament.
“I love her,” he said softly. “I’d do anything for her.”
“She’s your sister,” I told him. “I know.”
“I’m glad you understand that. Not many people do.” Taking a sip, he tipped his head towards me. “That being said, things are about to get nasty, $name. You sure you want to be doing all this? I’m not saying it will but what if something happens to you. It’d break her heart.”
I snorted, drink sloshing. Thankfully, it didn’t hit Hazel. “Milo, I don’t understand a damn thing about this world. But, I for some reason, get love. Stupid as that sounds. And I know, when you love someone, it doesn’t matter if you plan for the future or not. You can’t avoid heartache. You can’t avoid pain. But what you can do, is enjoy the good times while they are here.”
He stared at me contemplatively, a confused expression on his face. It was like he was trying to figure me out. Discover just how we all even got here, sitting in the apothecary, playing games. In the end, I don’t know what answer he found, but he shifted in his seat, taking another sip of his whiskey. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am.”
Holding Hazel close, I leaned forward so I could pour the rest of my drink into his cup. “Gonna fall asleep now,” I slurred. In my lap, Hazel stirred, her hand coming out to curl across my heart. I didn’t know if Milo responded, or if he just continued drinking. My eyes were too heavy to tell.
Outside, the storm surged and the wisps scattered. But inside it was warm, the fire still popping, the board game scattered across the table. I smiled when Mr. Billows hopped up and Milo tried to give him some of his drink.
I didn’t keep my eyes open long enough to find out if Billows took it.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]“I really hate saying this but I think Milo is right. Drinking ourselves into oblivion feels like the right option after today.”
“Hell yeah.” Hopping up, Milo went behind the apothecary counter and brought out a few jugs.
“Milo, moonshine is not the answer,” Hazel snorted.
“Moonshine is the answer.” I saw her make no protest as Milo began pouring fresh mugs filled with sweet smelling liquid. It was obviously homemade and obviously from Hazel’s hands. It also felt like the perfect answer to the end of such a horrid day. The alcohol burned as it went down, causing my face to twist and my eyes to water. Next to me, Hazel was coughing, acting in much the same way. I didn’t know if I needed to be concerned that Milo was drinking it like it was water.
Hazel passed out first, head in my lap. She was warm against my skin and setting me into a drowsy state. Across the way, I could see Milo in much the same predicament.
“I love her,” he said softly. “I’d do anything for her.”
“She’s your sister,” I told him. “I know.”
“I’m glad you understand that. Not many people do.” Taking a sip, he tipped his head towards me. “That being said, things are about to get nasty, $name. You sure you want to be doing all this? I’m not saying it will but what if something happens to you. It’d break her heart.”
I snorted, drink sloshing. Thankfully, it didn’t hit Hazel. “Milo, I don’t understand a damn thing about this world. But, I for some reason, get love. Stupid as that sounds. And I know, when you love someone, it doesn’t matter if you plan for the future or not. You can’t avoid heartache. You can’t avoid pain. But what you can do, is enjoy the good times while they are here.”
He stared at me contemplatively, a confused expression on his face. It was like he was trying to figure me out. Discover just how we all even got here, sitting in the apothecary, playing games. In the end, I don’t know what answer he found, but he shifted in his seat, taking another sip of his whiskey. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am.”
Holding Hazel close, I leaned forward so I could pour the rest of my drink into his cup. “Gonna fall asleep now,” I slurred. In my lap, Hazel stirred, her hand coming out to curl across my heart. I didn’t know if Milo responded, or if he just continued drinking. My eyes were too heavy to tell.
Outside, the storm surged and the wisps scattered. But inside it was warm, the fire still popping, empty cups scattered across the table. I smiled when Mr. Billows hopped up and Milo tried to give him some of his drink.
I didn’t keep my eyes open long enough to find out if Billows took it.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]“I just want to sleep,” I said tiredly. “I just want to go to bed and wake up with this entire day behind me.” I rose from the sofa, setting aside the whiskey and looking at them apologetically.
“$name,” Hazel said softly. “Will you at least consider some tea before bed? To help?”
I rubbed my eyes tiredly. I just wanted to curl up beneath a comforter. I wanted to be warm and safe and to forget about the dolls that were now lurking in the corner of my mind. Everything about today, from the second I came downstairs, felt out of control once more, despite us having taken the effort to be prepared this time. But maybe I couldn’t prepare myself for the Barons. Maybe it wasn’t possible.
A warm blanket wrapped around me as I was led back to the sofa. Hazel positioned me so I curled close to her, facing the warmth of the fire. “How about a compromise,” she said. “Sit down here. Milo and I will finish our drinks, I’ll hold you. You’ll be close. Afterwards, I’ll help you get up to bed.”
My eyes were already drooping as her body wrapped around me, warm and reassuring. I lost myself to the sight of the fire and Hazel’s gentle ministrations. I could hear soft murmurs through the room as Milo and her talked and the fire crackled within the stone hearth. There was a cauldron of soup bubbling above the coals. One that I knew had not been there when I first arrived. I smiled at how sneaky Hazel was. And how she was using it for things like soup.
Outside, a storm began to surge but I was only briefly aware of it. After a day like today, I had thought I would lose myself to the terror of our situation. But instead, I had Hazel. Her soft words. Her touch. Her caring nature. And that was all I would need to get through the upcoming days.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]<img src="images/Ch9.png"
height="300" width="900">
The next week went by with relative calm. The crackle of gates did not echo through the market. The Barons all kept to their corners and life resumed. Though, the darkest corners of the market looked as if they were starting to peel. Cracking and pulling away before drifting off to nowhere in a flutter of torn pieces. For reasons that baffled most of the market, the chill came early this year. It swept through the market proper and began spiraling outwards into the outskirts of the realm. Little bits of frost clung to the cobblestones, making them slick, while dew dripped from the lanterns in long lines of frozen rain. Hazel had explained to me that this was common within the market and often times came on suddenly. But the same expression of confusion was passed around each time someone commented on the weather. The cold was far too early this year.
I paid little attention to the oddity seeing as it was my first year within the market proper. The apothecary was oddly active that week and so I ended up busying myself with orders and cleaning up when inevitably, something Hazel was brewing in the late hours of the evening, exploded across the hardwood floors. <<if $gabrielro == "true">> At night, I would seek out Gabriel. Oftentimes at the office or on patrol, bringing him small baskets of food. With the market being in a state of relative calm, I was actually able to wander with him. The two of us strolling under the frostbitten lamplight, getting to know each other far better. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> At night, I would find Milo. Most evenings were spent drinking and dancing, before we wound up here to spend the evening playing board games. A few times we sat by the fire but it was clear that Milo could not sit still for long. Some nights I ended up at his place and in his bed. Other nights, he bid me farewell before he walked the rest of his nervous energy off in the market streets. <<elseif $hazelro == "true">> At night, after the shop was closed, Hazel and I would cook dinner together. Side by side we would cram ourselves into her little kitchenette upstairs, chopping the vegetables and herbs from the garden and filling the little space with the smell of fresh baked bread. Some evenings, Milo would join us downstairs for a board game. Other evenings, her and I would wind up together upstairs, listening to the fire crackle and talking late into the night. <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> Most nights were spent playing board games with Hazel and Milo, cooking something upstairs, or just generally relaxing. I thought of Belladonna often but hadn’t attempted to see her and she returned the sentiment. The woman remained as elusive as the night and there wasn’t much I could do about it but wait until either my feelings changed, or hers did. <<elseif $platonic == "true">> Most nights were spent playing board games with Hazel and Milo, cooking something upstairs, or just generally relaxing. There was a period of calm we had entered and I was relishing in each moment of it before the storm began to swirl yet again.<</if>>
It was one cold morning when the breeze was barreling through the cracks in the floor, that I had to wander out to make a delivery for Hazel. It was one of her full moon orders for a wolf that lived across town. Wolfsbane and hollyhock to help with the change and to give him a bit of sentience as he ran through the wild. I tucked it close, grabbing something warm to wrap around me, and made my way out into the market. The burnt alley was not so terrifying with a dusting of frost and the ghosts even seemed a bit more subdued during the colder weather.
Making my way across the three-tiered-fountain and towards the small, smoke lit huts that passed the Renaissance district, the walk was actually nice compared to some of the others I had had. It was with a small bit of shock that I realized, I was integrating myself into life in the Night Market, almost seamlessly. I didn’t know if this should bother me or if I should ultimately feel proud for my ability to adapt. I supposed my other option would have been to curl up in a corner somewhere in fear, waiting for my chance to crawl home.
Home.
It was such a foreign concept when what I remembered about it was next to nothing. Sensory imprints that wrapped around me in soft edged truths. I didn’t know if they were real. I had very little answers compared to when I first came here and as the days ticked by, other, more pressing matters were beginning to take place. It wasn’t that I wished to forget about wherever I came from. Or my pursuit in finding who I had been before dropping into the Night Market.
[[Next|Nine 1]]
The hut in question was in the midst of a boggy field. Several others lined the waterways where snake grass and cat tails bloomed from the watery edges. Grey smoke curled from the chimney, coating the air in a cloud of dull fog. The sound of wood being split filled the surroundings along with the early morning caw from a raven. Glancing down at the paper at hand, I looked around, following Hazel’s instructions. She said the man in question lived in the smallest log house in the far field, where the old peach tree grew. It was fairly easy to spot now that I was here. The peach tree was large and looming in the fog, the fruit hanging from low branches while a few had fallen to the ground, rotting in the light of the overhanging lamps. It made the air smell a bit sweet along with the chilling bite. Overall, not an unpleasant experience, but with the cold and the headache that I had not seemed to be able to shake for the last week, I was looking forward to heading home soon.
There was a man beneath the peach tree, chopping wood on a large oak block. I could see a small pile of split wood beside him, the chunks of log smashing the ripe peaches into the ground.
“Hello?” I called out to him, letting him know I was coming.
He paused in his chopping, looking up at me. He wore a wool coat pulled tight to him and a long scarf wrapped around his neck. Small bells hung from frayed threading, jingling with each move from the man. Fingerless gloves gripped the wood axe, twirling it around to rest over his shoulder as he turned to look at me.
The man was not large per se. He was of average height and build, his skin a russet tone, slashed through with a puckered white scar through his left eye. The eye itself was milky and unseeing while the other was crystal blue.
“Hello.” His smile was wide and welcoming, a huff of breath coming out from the cool air.
“Are you Mr…” I trailed off to look down at my paper.
“Just call me Tallard. I assure you, whatever last name is on that paper is either my mother's or my father’s. Or perhaps my brother’s,” he laughed. “I got a big family and am not partial to any of them.”
I smiled a bit, putting the paper away. “I have a delivery for you.”
His eyes went wide, dancing with delight. I had expected relief but I wondered if being out here was lonely. He seemed far more excited to see me than the delivery. “I wasn’t expecting you. Not until tonight. And I much thought it would be that runner of Ms. Albright’s. Milo, isn’t it?”
I bobbed my head. The deliveries to the more questionable parts of the market, Milo always took. He wouldn’t dream of letting Hazel do it and since I barely knew the market, it had never been called into question. But, Milo didn’t stop by like he normally did each morning. The visits he did pay Hazel were less frequent and shorter in time. And the delivery had been urgent. So Hazel had sent me instead. “Milo is usually the one that takes these but we heard you might need things a bit earlier?”
“I do. I do. Feeling it more in my bones today than anything else. Might just be the weather but you never can be too careful.”
Pulling the satchel out of my bag, I held it up. “Here it is. I hope this helps.”
Setting the ax aside, he wiped his hands on his legs, approaching me. When he reached out for it, I noticed the twisted fingers on his right hand. The way they curled inwards, nails yellowed and overgrown. “Thank you,” he said. The ax leaned against the oak block behind him, the head of it rusty and flaking red onto the pristine patches of snow. “Are you going to come in and fix the tea?”
“Fix the tea?” I tried to shake it off. The tendril of paranoia that I had creeping in me. Then again, I notoriously had not done well on my own within the market so I supposed it was actually warranted.
“Milo always does. It’s the hand, you see.” Tallard held up the twisted form of his hand. I could see shiny points across the skin, as if it had long since healed from a nasty burn. “I can’t quite brew it properly.”
[[I don’t know how to brew the tea]]
[[Of course. I can help you]]
[[What do you do when someone isn’t here to help you]]“I don’t know how to brew the tea,” I told him. I was assuming something special had to be done to it. It couldn’t possibly be that you just dunked some herbs in water and the beast within the man was suddenly quelled for the moon.
But upon his laugh, it seemed like that was exactly what you had to do. “It is no different from a cup of chamomile. The herbs and spell Ms. Albright provides does the real work. I really just struggle to pour it all.”
I was being ridiculous. But the Deep had stuck with me in a way that I couldn’t shake. Much like the cold, the scars of that night were lingering. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “I got a little time. I’ll come help.”
Inside, the hut was much warmer than the boggy air outside. A fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with the scent of pine and the popping of sap. Tallard hobbled in, limping his way into the kitchen. The room was small but filled with the remnants of life. Wool coats were hung over chairs and boots were warming by the fire. I frowned a little. They looked far too big for the man that was before me.
“Does someone else live here?” I asked curiously.
He looked over his shoulder. “Not that I know of. Though my ears aren’t what they used to be,” he laughed. “Perhaps someone is leeching off my good nature.”
I smiled wanly at him. The tea kettle was on the stove, already half full. The water was frigid though and I lit the burner as Tallard lowered himself onto a wooden chair, stretching his legs out before him.
“My old bones don’t quite like this weather,” he admitted. “I’m sorry that I need your help like this.”
[[I’m sorry if I seemed a bit off about you asking. It’s been a long week]]
[[Man like you shouldn’t be living alone]]
[[It’s no bother]]“Of course I can help you,” I told him immediately. The scars of the Deep were lingering. They had wrapped around me in a sense of paranoia that let me believe every moment that veered slightly from what I had planned, warranted me balancing on a knifes edge. It was clear though, I couldn’t continue to do that.
I tried to give Tallard a smile as he bobbed his head gratefully back at me. “I won’t be keeping you long. Just enough for that water to boil.”
Inside, the hut was much warmer than the boggy air outside. A fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with the scent of pine and the popping of sap. Tallard hobbled in, limping his way into the kitchen. The room was small but filled with the remnants of life. Wool coats were hung over chairs and boots were warming by the fire. I frowned a little. They looked far too big for the man that was before me.
“Does someone else live here?” I asked curiously.
He looked over his shoulder. “Not that I know of. Though my ears aren’t what they used to be,” he laughed. “Perhaps someone is leeching off my good nature.”
I smiled wanly at him. The tea kettle was on the stove, already half full. The water was frigid though and I lit the burner as Tallard lowered himself onto a wooden chair, stretching his legs out before him.
“My old bones don’t quite like this weather,” he admitted. “I’m sorry that I need your help like this.”
[[I’m sorry if I seemed a bit off about you asking. It’s been a long week]]
[[Man like you shouldn’t be living alone]]
[[It’s no bother]]“What do you do when someone isn’t here to help you?” I asked. I suddenly had visions of that man spilling even more hot tea over his burned hand.
“I have good neighbors,” Tallard said. “I just don’t like to bother them. But really, if you need to go, it’s alright. I can see if one of them is available tonight. It’s just a bit of water I need to boil.”
“No, it’s okay,” I told him. Who was I if I couldn’t boil some water for this man?
Inside, the hut was much warmer than the boggy air outside. A fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with the scent of pine and the popping of sap. Tallard hobbled in, limping his way into the kitchen. The room was small but filled with the remnants of life. Wool coats were hung over chairs and boots were warming by the fire. I frowned a little. They looked far too big for the man that was before me.
“Does someone else live here?” I asked curiously.
He looked over his shoulder. “Not that I know of. Though my ears aren’t what they used to be,” he laughed. “Perhaps someone is leeching off my good nature.”
I smiled wanly at him. The tea kettle was on the stove, already half full. The water was frigid though and I lit the burner as Tallard lowered himself onto a wooden chair, stretching his legs out before him.
“My old bones don’t quite like this weather,” he admitted. “I’m sorry that I need your help like this.”
[[I’m sorry if I seemed a bit off about you asking. It’s been a long week]]
[[Man like you shouldn’t be living alone]]
[[It’s no bother]]I felt a little bad. The request was simple enough and the man in front of me was obviously in need of help. He shouldn’t have even had to ask. “I’m sorry if I seemed a bit off just then. It’s been a long week.” A long few weeks, really. This was the first one that I had had in some time where I felt like I could breathe.
Tallard waved me off, unconcerned by it. “Long weeks happen and you are allowed to feel them.” Stretching his bad leg out before him, he groaned, rubbing at the skin to bring life back into the apendage. “You’re new to the market, are you not?” I looked at him over my shoulder, feeling my spine straighten at the question. He smiled kindly at m though, chuckling a bit. “Apologies. That probably seemed equal parts rude and equal parts stalkerish. It’s the nose, you see. I can smell when we have a new soul wandering our streets. Old soul smell far more like spice and graveyard dirt.”
“Oh,” I stated. It wasn’t exactly the weirdest thing someone had told me. “I guess I’m new. My origins are still a bit up for debate.”
“Lost memories, did you?”
I frowned. “How’d you know?”
Tallard sighed a bit, drumming his fingers on the table. There was a thick ring of coffee stains that littered the wood. “Odd things are happening in the market lately. I hear this is one of them. Though, I am unsure how much stock I wish to put in it all. You hear things, you know? You wouldn’t think you would living out here but my do travelers talk.”
“What kinds of things do you hear?”
He grinned, the bells on his jacket chiming as he shifted. “What kinds of things are you looking for? I’m almost positive that whatever you are curious about has been a topic of conversation in this boggy little farmland. Not much else to do here but gossip.”
I looked down at the kettle, wondering just what I should ask. If it was worth it to trust such a stranger. But, that was what I had been doing from the moment I arrived in the Night Market.
[[Any rumors circling on the Gatekeeper?]]
[[Any news about a veil ripping?]]
[[How about you tell me the most interesting bit of news you’ve heard]]
I frowned a little. “Man like you shouldn’t be living alone,” I told him. I almost wished there was signs of someone else here. It felt wrong that a man who had difficulty boiling water was out here on his own. Then again, it might just be the full moon. I knew next to nothing about the wolven folk and for all I knew, things just got a bit harder for him during this time.
“Ack,” he spat. “I like the solitude. Gives me time to think and dream. There is something to be said about silence. The things you learn when you pay attention, the distractions of life cut from your side. It is truly amazing.” Stretching his leg out before him, he began to rub at the apendage.
"Are you in much pain? We have tonics for that?"
He grinned at me. "Quite the little salesperson you are. But it is fine. These bones are just getting old." Tipping his head, he looked at me curiously. “You’re new to the market, are you not?” I looked at him over my shoulder, feeling my spine straighten at the question. He smiled kindly at m though, chuckling a bit. “Apologies. That probably seemed equal parts rude and equal parts stalkerish. It’s the nose, you see. I can smell when we have a new soul wandering our streets. Old soul smell far more like spice and graveyard dirt.”
“Oh,” I stated. It wasn’t exactly the weirdest thing someone had told me. “I guess I’m new. My origins are still a bit up for debate.”
“Lost memories, did you?”
I frowned. “How’d you know?”
Tallard sighed a bit, drumming his fingers on the table. There was a thick ring of coffee stains that littered the wood. “Odd things are happening in the market lately. I hear this is one of them. Though, I am unsure how much stock I wish to put in it all. You hear things, you know? You wouldn’t think you would living out here but my do travelers talk.”
“What kinds of things do you hear?”
He grinned, the bells on his jacket chiming as he shifted. “What kinds of things are you looking for? I’m almost positive that whatever you are curious about has been a topic of conversation in this boggy little farmland. Not much else to do here but gossip.”
I looked down at the kettle, wondering just what I should ask. If it was worth it to trust such a stranger. But, that was what I had been doing from the moment I arrived in the Night Market.
[[Any rumors circling on the Gatekeeper?]]
[[Any news about a veil ripping?]]
[[How about you tell me the most interesting bit of news you’ve heard]]
“It’s really not a bother,” I told him. “Brewing tea is something I should make more time for. The woman I live with does it religiously and she is one of the sweetest people I know. Maybe there’s a secret in all that.”
“Oh, I like that outlook. Take a moment for the smaller things,” Tallard said. “What a fascinating thing for you to say.”
The phrasing was odd but I shrugged it off. The man seemed a bit eccentric, but harmless nonetheless.
“You’re new to the market, are you not?” I looked at him over my shoulder, feeling my spine straighten at the question. He smiled kindly at m though, chuckling a bit. “Apologies. That probably seemed equal parts rude and equal parts stalkerish. It’s the nose, you see. I can smell when we have a new soul wandering our streets. Old soul smell far more like spice and graveyard dirt.”
“Oh,” I stated. It wasn’t exactly the weirdest thing someone had told me. “I guess I’m new. My origins are still a bit up for debate.”
“Lost memories, did you?”
I frowned. “How’d you know?”
Tallard sighed a bit, drumming his fingers on the table. There was a thick ring of coffee stains that littered the wood. “Odd things are happening in the market lately. I hear this is one of them. Though, I am unsure how much stock I wish to put in it all. You hear things, you know? You wouldn’t think you would living out here but my do travelers talk.”
“What kinds of things do you hear?”
He grinned, the bells on his jacket chiming as he shifted. “What kinds of things are you looking for? I’m almost positive that whatever you are curious about has been a topic of conversation in this boggy little farmland. Not much else to do here but gossip.”
I looked down at the kettle, wondering just what I should ask. If it was worth it to trust such a stranger. But, that was what I had been doing from the moment I arrived in the Night Market.
[[Any rumors circling on the Gatekeeper?]]
[[Any news about a veil ripping?]]
[[How about you tell me the most interesting bit of news you’ve heard]]
“Does Milo sit and talk to you often?” Honestly, it sounded like Milo. He was always chatting with people, whether he knew them or not. Said he liked knowing how people worked, what made them tick. The idea that he would have struck up a conversation with someone he was supposed to be delivering tea to, sounded right.
“Often enough,” Tallard said. “More so than s general acquaintance but I wouldn’t say we are friends. He is an excellent conversationalist though. Always makes time for my tired old bones. At one point I thought we would be good business partners together but too many complications, probably.”
“Complications?”
“I can’t travel that far or often. Leaves all our meetings together as clandestine affairs,” he chuckled. “That much secrecy is just not sustainable. Especially on a boy who is already so wracked with guilt. He once came here, must have been after a long week, and was babbling incoherently about all the things he had done wrong. Was so worried about him, I said to hell with the rules and walked him back to the market proper. I was rightly concerned about him. Though, he seems to pull himself together well. Probably a good thing, given I shouldn’t be out and about on the full moon.”
“That was nice of you to do,” I said, not sure how I was supposed to respond to this information.
“You didn’t see the boy. Was in a right awful state.” Taking a sip of his tea, he made a satisfying hum. Apparently, I had at least brewed that right. “Think he may keep some things close to chest. Though, I think the real way to tell if he’s not doing well, aside from his sleeping, is his drinking. Means he’s getting stressed.”
Something must have shown on my face because Tallard paused in his drink, lowering his mug. “Which one is it?” he asked.
“Both.”
There was an awkward silence that passed between us at my confession. It was one my mind instantly tried to play away. Milo didn’t over drink. He just had fun. And his lack of sleep was something everyone went through occasionally. Especially during high stress moments. <<if $miloro == "true">> But I remembered how his place looked. The empty bottles and the bags under his eyes. It was more than that. I knew it was more than that.<</if>>
“Maybe I’m wrong. I mean, I’m just an old man out beneath a peach tree most days. See that Milo once a month really. What do I really know about him? I’m sure you know so much more.”
“Yeah.” I watched as the man drank half his tea. Suddenly, I didn’t think I should be here anymore. “I should be going.”
“Oh, of course. Thank you so much for the tea. It helps the transformation immensely. Let me show you to the door.” Hoisting himself up out of his chair he began walking me to the front door. There was a faint smell of something rotting beneath the crackling fire in the hearth. My eyes ticked towards the open bedroom door next to it. I saw claw marks running up and down the outside of it and wondered just what a werewolf ate near the full moon.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Tallard told me, leaning on the door frame heavily. “Would love to dance with you one day.”
“Dance?” I asked.
He clacked his walking stick to the ground. “You have no idea what these old bones can do.” Laughing, he shut the door behind him, leaving me to the outside world.
Leaving the house, I tilted my head up towards the sky. The lanterns looked like grey clouds, wispy tendrils of snow drifting off of them to coat the ground. It was odd how light this area of the market now looked. The shimmering light above reflected off the dusting of ice, giving the world around me a soft glow. It was both peaceful and eerie all at once.
[[Go check on Milo]]
“What do you mean by interpersonal drama?” I asked.
Tallard took the mug of tea, sipping at it. “It’s that lack of sleep thing. Boy always gets a bit shaky when he doesn’t sleep. Something about the nightmares from his dad. Poor boy sounds like he was beaten within an inch of his life when he was young.”
I stared at him in horror, not having known this about Milo. Tallard stared at me, shivering slightly as he drank from his mug.
“Oh. Oh you didn’t know that. I- I thought… I’m sorry for saying all that. Just forget it.”
“No. No it’s not your fault. I’m glad he’s confided in you before.” Although, it seemed a bit odd. This man in the middle of nowhere. The one Milo was delivering tea to monthly. Then again, Milo chose his friends and confidants in odd ways.
Tallard chuckled lowly at that. “Don’t think he meant to, to be honest. He came here once, maybe about a year ago. Tired as hell and just babbling on. After he fixed me some tea I actually walked him back to the market I was so concerned about him.”
“Isn’t that dangerous with the full moon?” I asked.
“You didn’t see the boy. Was in a right awful state.” Taking a sip of his tea, he made a satisfying hum. Apparently, I had at least brewed that right. “Think he may keep some things close to chest. Though, I think the real way to tell if he’s not doing well, aside from his sleeping, is his drinking. Means he’s getting stressed.”
Something must have shown on my face because Tallard paused in his drink, lowering his mug. “Which one is it?” he asked.
“Both.”
There was an awkward silence that passed between us at my confession. It was one my mind instantly tried to play away. Milo didn’t over drink. He just had fun. And his lack of sleep was something everyone went through occasionally. Especially during high stress moments. <<if $miloro == "true">> But I remembered how his place looked. The empty bottles and the bags under his eyes. It was more than that. I knew it was more than that.<</if>>
“Maybe I’m wrong. I mean, I’m just an old man out beneath a peach tree most days. See that Milo once a month really. What do I really know about him? I’m sure you know so much more.”
“Yeah.” I watched as the man drank half his tea. Suddenly, I didn’t think I should be here anymore. “I should be going.”
“Oh, of course. Thank you so much for the tea. It helps the transformation immensely. Let me show you to the door.” Hoisting himself up out of his chair he began walking me to the front door. There was a faint smell of something rotting beneath the crackling fire in the hearth. My eyes ticked towards the open bedroom door next to it. I saw claw marks running up and down the outside of it and wondered just what a werewolf ate near the full moon.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Tallard told me, leaning on the door frame heavily. “Would love to dance with you one day.”
“Dance?” I asked.
He clacked his walking stick to the ground. “You have no idea what these old bones can do.” Laughing, he shut the door behind him, leaving me to the outside world.
Leaving the house, I tilted my head up towards the sky. The lanterns looked like grey clouds, wispy tendrils of snow drifting off of them to coat the ground. It was odd how light this area of the market now looked. The shimmering light above reflected off the dusting of ice, giving the world around me a soft glow. It was both peaceful and eerie all at once.
[[Go check on Milo]]
“How long have you known Milo?” I knew that he had been taking orders out for Hazel since she had taken over the apothecary. For a while, Hazel had tried to get him to work for her. Or become partners within the store. Milo had always refused to accept money from her and continued to take orders for her for free. I was almost certain that was why Hazel made more food than she could possibly eat. That way she could send it all home with Milo when he came over.
“Oh, I’d say about five or six years now?” Tallard said. “Gets a bit confusing. I mean, I’ve known of him for quite some time. Passed in the same circles what with his thieving and such. But never had a conversation with him until I put in an order with Hazel and he showed up at my door. Our monthly meetings have been most enlightening. I don’t know much about the Night Market itself. So, having someone like Milo around is helpful. He’s got his fingers on the pulse of this world.”
“Milo collects information inadvertently sometimes,” I said. It went with the territory of being social. And inhabiting taverns most nights.
“Right you are,” Tallard chuckled. “Think I just get a little concerned for him sometimes. Ever since he showed up here a while back, babbling and shaking, telling me he was doing things wrong. Never quite got the entire tale of it but I walked him back to the market that night despite the full moon. Was concerned about him, to say the least.”
I blinked in somewhat surprise. That didn’t sound like Milo at all. <<if $miloro == "true">> Though, I had seen the fissures. He was keeping himself from breaking and I wondered if what Tallard described was on the other side of that break. <</if>>
“You didn’t see the boy. Was in a right awful state.” Taking a sip of his tea, he made a satisfying hum. Apparently, I had at least brewed that right. “Think he may keep some things close to chest. Though, I think the real way to tell if he’s not doing well, aside from his sleeping, is his drinking. Means he’s getting stressed.”
Something must have shown on my face because Tallard paused in his drink, lowering his mug. “Which one is it?” he asked.
“Both.”
There was an awkward silence that passed between us at my confession. It was one my mind instantly tried to play away. Milo didn’t over drink. He just had fun. And his lack of sleep was something everyone went through occasionally. Especially during high stress moments. <<if $miloro == "true">> But I remembered how his place looked. The empty bottles and the bags under his eyes. It was more than that. I knew it was more than that.<</if>>
“Maybe I’m wrong. I mean, I’m just an old man out beneath a peach tree most days. See that Milo once a month really. What do I really know about him? I’m sure you know so much more.”
“Yeah.” I watched as the man drank half his tea. Suddenly, I didn’t think I should be here anymore. “I should be going.”
“Oh, of course. Thank you so much for the tea. It helps the transformation immensely. Let me show you to the door.” Hoisting himself up out of his chair he began walking me to the front door. There was a faint smell of something rotting beneath the crackling fire in the hearth. My eyes ticked towards the open bedroom door next to it. I saw claw marks running up and down the outside of it and wondered just what a werewolf ate near the full moon.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Tallard told me, leaning on the door frame heavily. “Would love to dance with you one day.”
“Dance?” I asked.
He clacked his walking stick to the ground. “You have no idea what these old bones can do.” Laughing, he shut the door behind him, leaving me to the outside world.
Leaving the house, I tilted my head up towards the sky. The lanterns looked like grey clouds, wispy tendrils of snow drifting off of them to coat the ground. It was odd how light this area of the market now looked. The shimmering light above reflected off the dusting of ice, giving the world around me a soft glow. It was both peaceful and eerie all at once.
[[Go check on Milo]]
I wanted to check on Milo. After what Tallard had said, my thoughts began wandering to him. How he had been over the last few weeks. There was a light in his eyes that was slowly flickering out. When I had first met the man, he was wild. He was quick to smile and dance. Often times, during late night games at Hazel’s, I would find him singing something loud and obnoxious as Hazel tried to take the bottle back from him. He was one of those individuals that commanded life and wore it well. But lately, he had been quiet. I had seen the dark circles underneath his eyes.
Something wasn’t right with Milo. It had been a nagging thought that had started a few weeks ago but after today it had hit me hard. There was something about him that was starting to dwindle. At first, I had chalked it up to Malcolm. The uncertainty that came with all that and the plummet into the past where his mistakes had shaken him to the core. But he was trying to hold on. I could see it in the way he clawed his way to the surface. The way he kept showing up for Hazel. The smiles that he offered. <<if $miloro == "true">> The way he held me. But at night, he shook. He barely slept, and his hands trembled as they roamed across me in a tight embrace, either offering comfort or seeking it. It was enough to cause me far more concern than I had perhaps been showing.<</if>>
Milo lived at the edge of the Spice District in an old whiskey distillery. It smelled like rye still, despite the vats having been emptied years ago. The door to his place was an old rolling steel one that was connected to a patched together metal structure with broken windows up towards the top. The alley itself was dark, the low light from the districts beyond lighting the way. I could hear things skitter in the dark as rats ran across small bits of trash. <<if $rats == "true">> I hated rats. Beady little eyes and all. <</if>>
Nearing the door, I knew that I needed to lay eyes on Milo. Check in with him at the very least before going home. I could possibly play it off as nothing more than a friendly passing through statement. Or, I could just come out and say it. Tell him that he was acting odd and I was almost certain Hazel had called him on it already. Or maybe she hadn’t because she wanted her own secrets to be kept in the dark as well.
“He’s not here.”
I jumped, turning to peer at the end of the alley where several crates and barrels were piled high onto each other. A little girl sat, skin slightly translucent, a mess of curls wavering around her face.
“Milo,” she said in way of explanation. “He hasn’t been home today.”
“Oh.” I looked between her and the door. It was clear that she was a spirit, and I wasn’t sure if Milo had ever mentioned one hanging out at his front door.
[[When was he home last?]]
[[Do you know where he is?]]
[[Who are you?]]
<<set $ever to "true">>The door to the distillery looked undisturbed and while I knew there was no real way to tell, it looked like Milo hadn’t been home for a while. The light above his door was off and the layer of frost that stretched across the handle was thicker than what it should have been. <<if $miloro == "true">> The last time I had been here was close to four nights ago. Most evenings were spent downstairs in front of Hazel’s fire or at a little out of the way tavern.<</if>>
“When was he home last?” I asked curiously.
The girl shrugged. “Dunno.”
It didn’t sit right with me. This girl was in no way his keeper, but the life Milo led outside what I had seen, was starting to feel vastly different.
“It is important that you see him?” the spirit asked.
“I don’t know,” I told her truthfully. It felt important, but there was a possibility that I was overreacting. Reading too much into the situation. “I’m $name, by the way.”
“I know. Milo talks about you sometimes. I’m Ever.” She continued cuddling the stuffed cow she held, petting across its snout.
“Do you come here often?” I asked her. I knew spirits couldn’t wander far from their sights of death but for some reason, I still asked the question. There was a part of me that hoped this was not where she had drawn her final breath.
“I live here. Kind of. Not really. My time appearing seems to be getting less and less.” Her head tipped down. “I miss Milo.”
“You two good friends?”
“He brings me pressies,” she smiled. It was one that quickly dropped however as she played with the edge of the cow’s ear. “When he can at least. He’s been really busy.”
I nodded. “There has been a lot going on with the Night Market.” I wasn’t going to presume to tell this little girl about the Barons and the Gatekeeper or anything of the sort. But for some reason, it felt important for her to know that Milo was not ignoring her on purpose. That he was genuinely doing things.
“I know,” she said softly. Looking at me from beneath her white lashes, she observed me as if trying to make a decision. “Would you like to sit with me for a while? Milo usually does during the moments I’m here but… you know.”
[[I really should be going]]
[[Of course, I’ll sit with you]]
“Do you know where he is?” I asked her. Milo really could be anywhere within the market. It wasn’t like him to sit still for long and I doubted his home was that much different. <<if $miloro == "true">> In fact, the few times I had been here, it was clear that the space was more of a spot for him to lay his head at night than an actual home. <</if>>
“I wasn’t here when he left. But he never really tells me. Just says he’s off on adventures,” she said. “I hope that’s true. I like hearing about his adventures.”
I racked my brain, trying to think if Milo had mentioned a little ghost girl that spent time outside his front door. “I’m $name,” I told her.
“I know. Milo talks about you sometimes. I’m Ever.” She continued cuddling the stuffed cow she held, petting across its snout.
“Do you come here often?” I asked her. I knew spirits couldn’t wander far from their sights of death but for some reason, I still asked the question. There was a part of me that hoped this was not where she had drawn her final breath.
“I live here. Kind of. Not really. My time appearing seems to be getting less and less.” Her head tipped down. “I miss Milo.”
“You two good friends?”
“He brings me pressies,” she smiled. It was one that quickly dropped however as she played with the edge of the cow’s ear. “When he can at least. He’s been really busy.”
I nodded. “There has been a lot going on with the Night Market.” I wasn’t going to presume to tell this little girl about the Barons and the Gatekeeper or anything of the sort. But for some reason, it felt important for her to know that Milo was not ignoring her on purpose. That he was genuinely doing things.
“I know,” she said softly. Looking at me from beneath her white lashes, she observed me as if trying to make a decision. “Would you like to sit with me for a while? Milo usually does during the moments I’m here but… you know.”
[[I really should be going]]
[[Of course, I’ll sit with you]]
The girl was sitting like she belonged here and I had no doubt that she did. She looked comfortable in her surroundings, holding onto a stuffed animal cow lovingly, stroking its fur like it were some sort of cat. Other than the ones in the alleyway, I didn’t have a ton of experience with spirits and to know that one monitored Milo’s comings and goings was a bit different.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” I told her. I knew we hadn’t met, in fact. A small ghost child would be hard to forget. <<if $ruins == "true">> Though, hadn’t Milo said something about needing to get a stuffed animal cow for a little girl? <</if>> “I’m $name.”
“I know. Milo talks about you sometimes. I’m Ever.” She continued cuddling the stuffed cow she held, petting across its snout.
“Do you come here often?” I asked her. I knew spirits couldn’t wander far from their sights of death but for some reason, I still asked the question. There was a part of me that hoped this was not where she had drawn her final breath.
“I live here. Kind of. Not really. My time appearing seems to be getting less and less.” Her head tipped down. “I miss Milo.”
“You two good friends?”
“He brings me pressies,” she smiled. It was one that quickly dropped however as she played with the edge of the cow’s ear. “When he can at least. He’s been really busy.”
I nodded. “There has been a lot going on with the Night Market.” I wasn’t going to presume to tell this little girl about the Barons and the Gatekeeper or anything of the sort. But for some reason, it felt important for her to know that Milo was not ignoring her on purpose. That he was genuinely doing things.
“I know,” she said softly. Looking at me from beneath her white lashes, she observed me as if trying to make a decision. “Would you like to sit with me for a while? Milo usually does during the moments I’m here but… you know.”
[[I really should be going]]
[[Of course, I’ll sit with you]]
Hesitantly, I looked behind me. I already felt like I had wasted a lot of time by fixing Tallard his tea and I didn’t know what the condition of the apothecary was going to be when I got back. Sniffles and body aches were rampant with the change of weather and Hazel seemed to be the only apothecary anyone wanted to go to this week.
“I really should be going,” I told the girl.
Her face fell. I watched her translucent fingers tighten a bit more on the cow. “Right. You’re an adult. Adults have important things to do without us kids around.”
“Is that what Milo has told you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. Milo includes me when he can. It’s just something my dad used to say.”
My shoulders slumped. I felt like shit for even suggesting leaving the child now and without another word, I sat down next to her. At least I knew full well Hazel would understand why I was not returning promptly. It was doubtful she would be able to leave the girl either.
“What’s your cow’s name?” I asked.
“Moomarie,” she said. “I love cows. I used to have one when I was alive,” she frowned. “Papa killed it though.”
Children had this remarkable way about them. They said things that were horrifying to adults and yet were nothing more than their current reality. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
[[Where is your mother and father?]]
[[How long have you been here... Dead]]
[[How did you meet Milo?]]
There was no way in good conscience, that I could leave the girl right now. She looked to be no older than seven, though the idea of age within the Night Market was never something I was all that sure on. Either way, she was a child. One holding onto a stuffed animal. To turn away from her out of my own discomfort felt wrong.
Walking up to the crates, I hopped up next to her. For some reason I expected her body to be chilled with death but I felt nothing. If I hadn’t been looking at her, it was doubtful I would have known she was even there. Already, she seemed so much different than the spirits within the alleyway. I wondered if the circumstances surrounding their death had anything to do with how they were as a spirit.
“What’s your cow’s name?” I asked.
“Moomarie,” she said. “I love cows. I used to have one when I was alive,” she frowned. “Papa killed it though.”
Children had this remarkable way about them. They said things that were horrifying to adults and yet were nothing more than their current reality. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
[[Where is your mother and father?]]
[[How long have you been here... Dead]]
[[How did you meet Milo?]]
“Where is your mother and father?” I asked the question hesitantly, not sure how much of her breathing life this girl remembered. Or, what was prone to set a spirit off. But as I spoke of them, she didn’t seem to mind the question. A glazed look filled her eyes for a moment and her hands paused against the soft back of her stuffed animal.
“I don’t think they came to the market,” she said slowly. “I don’t quite remember. I used to know. I think I used to know. But...” she shook her head. Long ago, it looked as if she had come to the conclusion of that question. She wouldn’t be seeing them again. And maybe, it was best that she couldn’t remember them. She couldn’t miss them then. It made my heart ache no less though and I feared I was simply telling myself this in response to my own sorrow.
“Do you know how long you’ve been here?” I asked her.
“Outside Milo’s door?” she shook her head. “I don’t even know how much time passes between visits. Each time I return to this spot I’m not quite sure how long I’ve been gone. Sometimes I can’t remember my name. Milo has set up a little thing to remind me though. Look.”
From behind her, she pulled out a small square box. It was an old cigar box that was taped at each edge. Inside, was a note that said Ever in beautiful scrawling amber. A cow figurine was tucked in there as well as a corn husk doll and a bit of pine.
“That’s very nice of him,” I told her.
“He’s the best,” she said, kicking her legs.
[[What’s it like being a spirit?]]
[[Where do you go when you’re not here?]]
[[Can you at least talk to other spirits?]]“How long have you been here? Dead.” I winced at my own question. Thankfully, Ever didn’t seem to have any qualms about it. Being a child and all. But I was curious about who had come to this patch of the alley first. Her or Milo. There was a part of me that wondered if time even meant anything here. The ages of the people I had slowly become friends with were lost to me and despite knowing that my time in the Night Market was not all that long, everyone else seemed to act as if I had been here forever. More than once I had to remind them that I had appeared here and I didn’t know why. And each time, confusion would cross their face, as if they themselves couldn’t figure out why they had forgotten.
“Awhile,” she said with a shrug. “Milo might know better. I don’t know. He’s told me a few times but it just slips from my memories. A lot of things do.”
“Why is that?”
“Time in the Night Market is odd.” Her face crinkled up, her nose wrinkling as she looked out towards the lanterns. “Each time I return to this spot I’m not quite sure how long I’ve been gone. Sometimes I can’t remember my name. Milo has set up a little thing to remind me though. Look.”
From behind her, she pulled out a small square box. It was an old cigar box that was tapped at each edge. Inside, was a note that said Ever in beautiful scrawling amber. A cow figurine was tucked in there as well as a corn husk doll and a bit of pine.
“That’s very nice of him,” I told her.
“He’s the best,” she said, kicking her legs.
[[What’s it like being a spirit?]]
[[Where do you go when you’re not here?]]
[[Can you at least talk to other spirits?]]
“How did you meet Milo?” I wondered if she was here when he moved in, whenever that was. There was a part of me that wondered if time even meant anything here. The ages of the people I had slowly become friends with were lost to me and despite knowing that my time in the Night Market was not all that long, everyone else seemed to act as if I had been here forever. More than once I had to remind them that I had appeared here and I didn’t know why. And each time, confusion would cross their face, as if they themselves couldn’t figure out why they had forgotten.
“He found me,” Ever said. “I wandered to his door and I just sat down and the next morning he found me.”
“You wandered? As a spirit?” As far as I knew that was not something that was possible. Spirits were trapped where they died. Unless, she had died here and that led to far more implications I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear yet.
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “Time in the Night Market is odd.” Her face crinkled up, her nose wrinkling as she looked out towards the lanterns. “Each time I return to this spot I’m not quite sure how long I’ve been gone. Sometimes I can’t remember my name. Milo has set up a little thing to remind me though. Look.”
From behind her, she pulled out a small square box. It was an old cigar box that was tapped at each edge. Inside, was a note that said Ever in beautiful scrawling amber. A cow figurine was tucked in there as well as a corn husk doll and a bit of pine.
“That’s very nice of him,” I told her.
“He’s the best,” she said, kicking her legs.
[[What’s it like being a spirit?]]
[[Where do you go when you’re not here?]]
[[Can you at least talk to other spirits?]]“What’s it like being a spirit?” I asked her. She felt like the most conscious of the spirits I had so far seen. Far more like someone I would pass on the street than an angry soul waiting for me in the dark.
“It’s boring,” she said with a small pout. “You don’t really sleep, so things just get dull after a while. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’ll kind of zone out and just stare into the distance and forget you exist. It helps pass the time.”
I tried not to stare at her in horror. What she described sounded truly awful but what somehow made it all the worse was the fact that she didn’t seem to recognize how horrible it was.
“Sometimes I’ll find someone in the Inbetween. That’s always a little bit of a treat.”
“The Inbetween? Is where all the spirits go or…?”
“No. Sometimes they go down to the well in the Deep before they are reborn. The spirits here are the ones that died traumatically. They get stuck. More and more have been stuck since the gates to the Deep have been closed. We need Malcolm back.”
My head snapped to hers. “You know Malcolm?”
She kicked her legs happily. “He used to bring me sweets when he was alive. I’ve seen him a few times since he died but he doesn’t remember me. I don’t think he even remembers himself.”
The girl outside Milo’s home knew that Malcolm was wandering. There was a shaky significance to this and an irony that was not lost on me. The entire time we had had questions of where Malcolm was. If he was even here. And the person that had all the answers was a forgotten child in the depths of an alley. “Have– have you told Milo this?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’ll only make him sad.”
“Ever, I think that might be something he needs to know. Malcolm has a sister and–”
“Oh, Ms. Hazel? I love her,” the girl said giddily, kicking her legs back and forth. “She used to come around a lot before everything happened with Malcolm. Milo says she’s afraid to leave the shop now.”
I nodded. I hadn’t known when Hazel’s hesitation had originated but it certainly seemed like Hazel hated leaving the apothecary most days.
“Have you seen Hazel since?”
Ever shook her head. “A lot of things fell apart after Malcolm. Including the gates. It used to be a bit easier for spirits to travel. He was working on opening up the Market a bit more so we weren’t stuck. It was a promise he made me. But then that terrible woman got to him.”
[[We can try and open the gates again for the spirits]]
[[We’re working on getting Malcolm back]]
[[Is there anything I can do to help you?]]“You said you’re not here all the time,” I started. “Where do you go when you’re not?” I knew that the spirits within the burnt alley didn’t always stay put. Some days they were more active than others. There had to be someplace they vanished to unless they just ceased to exist.
“The Inbetween. It’s a liminal space that is the Night Market but not. I don’t like it because it’s lonely but sometimes I see others there. Sometimes even people I know,” she said excitedly. “But mostly, I just try to stay put. I’ve been told you can get lost there if you’re not careful. That if you wander too far you’ll fall into the Nothing and never return.” She shuddered at the idea of it.
“The Inbetween? Is where all the spirits go or…?”
“No. Sometimes they go down to the well in the Deep before they are reborn. The spirits here are the ones that died traumatically. They get stuck. More and more have been stuck since the gates to the Deep have been closed. We need Malcolm back.”
My head snapped to hers. “You know Malcolm?”
She kicked her legs happily. “He used to bring me sweets when he was alive. I’ve seen him a few times since he died but he doesn’t remember me. I don’t think he even remembers himself.”
The girl outside Milo’s home knew that Malcolm was wandering. There was a shaky significance to this and an irony that was not lost on me. The entire time we had had questions of where Malcolm was. If he was even here. And the person that had all the answers was a forgotten child in the depths of an alley. “Have– have you told Milo this?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’ll only make him sad.”
“Ever, I think that might be something he needs to know. Malcolm has a sister and–”
“Oh, Ms. Hazel? I love her,” the girl said giddily, kicking her legs back and forth. “She used to come around a lot before everything happened with Malcolm. Milo says she’s afraid to leave the shop now.”
I nodded. I hadn’t known when Hazel’s hesitation had originated but it certainly seemed like Hazel hated leaving the apothecary most days.
“Have you seen Hazel since?”
Ever shook her head. “A lot of things fell apart after Malcolm. Including the gates. It used to be a bit easier for spirits to travel. He was working on opening up the Market a bit more so we weren’t stuck. It was a promise he made me. But then that terrible woman got to him.”
[[We can try and open the gates again for the spirits]]
[[We’re working on getting Malcolm back]]
[[Is there anything I can do to help you?]]“Can you at least talk to other spirits?” I hated the idea of the girl sitting here alone, existing only on Milo’s availability.
“I can,” she said. “But not a lot of spirits are in this alley. I asked Milo once if he could bring one here and he got really quiet about it and said that he couldn’t. I don’t know what that means but I stopped asking after a while. Probably just as well. You never know what kind of spirit you’re going to get and sometimes they’re not good conversationalist. But occasionally I’ll run across someone in the Inbetween. Sometimes even people I know,” she said excitedly.
“The Inbetween? Is where all the spirits go or…?”
“No. Sometimes they go down to the well in the Deep before they are reborn. The spirits here are the ones that died traumatically. They get stuck. More and more have been stuck since the gates to the Deep have been closed. We need Malcolm back.”
My head snapped to hers. “You know Malcolm?”
She kicked her legs happily. “He used to bring me sweets when he was alive. I’ve seen him a few times since he died but he doesn’t remember me. I don’t think he even remembers himself.”
The girl outside Milo’s home knew that Malcolm was wandering. There was a shaky significance to this and an irony that was not lost on me. The entire time we had had questions of where Malcolm was. If he was even here. And the person that had all the answers was a forgotten child in the depths of an alley. “Have– have you told Milo this?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’ll only make him sad.”
“Ever, I think that might be something he needs to know. Malcolm has a sister and–”
“Oh, Ms. Hazel? I love her,” the girl said giddily, kicking her legs back and forth. “She used to come around a lot before everything happened with Malcolm. Milo says she’s afraid to leave the shop now.”
I nodded. I hadn’t known when Hazel’s hesitation had originated but it certainly seemed like Hazel hated leaving the apothecary most days.
“Have you seen Hazel since?”
Ever shook her head. “A lot of things fell apart after Malcolm. Including the gates. It used to be a bit easier for spirits to travel. He was working on opening up the Market a bit more so we weren’t stuck. It was a promise he made me. But then that terrible woman got to him.”
[[We can try and open the gates again for the spirits]]
[[We’re working on getting Malcolm back]]
[[Is there anything I can do to help you?]]“We’re going to try and make that happen for you,” I assured her. The words came out of nowhere but I wasn’t shocked when they left my mouth. It was a truth that fit somehow. As if saying it out loud was a declaration that helped set certain events into motion. “There are things we are doing. Milo is helping us. But, when we get things settled, I can make it my mission again to try and let the spirits travel the market again.” Maybe it wouldn’t leave so many angry souls to slowly dissipate as life passed them by.
“Really?” She asked it with such hope that I knew I had to help her.
“Really,” I assured.
She grinned brightly at me. Her front tooth was missing. She had died before even her adult teeth had set in.
As Ever looked at me, I couldn’t help but think there was something familiar about the girl. It was in the way she smiled. Lopsided and warm. I wanted to help her. It was not a need that stacked up in a haphazard way so much as it felt like something I could do. The only thing that was really stopping me was the passage of time.
Looking up towards the lanterns, I sighed. First, we’d have to stop the tears in the Night Market, then, we would be able to address the problems of the spirits. It very well might already go hand in hand with one of the other, many insurmountable problems we had. I just couldn’t see the bigger picture yet.
“I need to get going. Technically, I’m on duty.”
Ever’s curls bobbed about her shoulders. “Will you tell Milo hi if you see him? That I miss him?”
At this rate, I thought Ever might see him before me. But I smiled at her all the same. “I will.” Hopping off the crates I bid the little girl farewell. When I got to the end of the alley, I looked back at her. She still sat, a faint glow emanating from her as she sang softly to her cow. Tears sprang to my eyes as I viewed her all alone. The Night Market was exceedingly beautiful but it had so much sorrow hidden within each dark corner.
[[Go back to the apothecary]]
“Do you want to know a secret?” I asked her. She bounced giddy on the crates
“Oh, I love secrets.”
“We’re trying to get Malcolm back.” The squeal that erupted from her echoed through the empty alley as she flung her translucent arms about me. I could feel her pass through but she snuggled against me in a semblance of a hug all the same. I felt oddly choked up at the action. “I don’t know when it’s going to happen,” I continued. “But we are trying. We’re going to get Malcolm back.”
“Things will be better when he’s home,” she said. “I just know it will. Malcolm always knew what to do in any situation.” I really hoped this girl was right. Because as of late, it felt like we were flying blind.
She grinned brightly at me. Her front tooth was missing. She had died before even her adult teeth had set in.
As Ever looked at me, I couldn’t help but think there was something familiar about the girl. It was in the way she smiled. Lopsided and warm. I wanted to help her. It was not a need that stacked up in a haphazard way so much as it felt like something I could do. The only thing that was really stopping me was the passage of time.
Looking up towards the lanterns, I sighed. First, we’d have to stop the tears in the Night Market, then, we would be able to address the problems of the spirits. It very well might already go hand in hand with one of the other, many insurmountable problems we had. I just couldn’t see the bigger picture yet.
“I need to get going. Technically, I’m on duty.”
Ever’s curls bobbed about her shoulders. “Will you tell Milo hi if you see him? That I miss him?”
At this rate, I thought Ever might see him before me. But I smiled at her all the same. “I will.” Hopping off the crates I bid the little girl farewell. When I got to the end of the alley, I looked back at her. She still sat, a faint glow emanating from her as she sang softly to her cow. Tears sprang to my eyes as I viewed her all alone. The Night Market was exceedingly beautiful but it had so much sorrow hidden within each dark corner.
[[Go back to the apothecary]]
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” I didn’t want to leave the girl sitting here, lost and alone. I knew I couldn’t stay here forever but it didn’t feel right to continue on with my life while she remained stuck. But what else was I supposed to do.
“Will you come back and visit me sometime?” she asked.
“Of course I will.”
“I’m not always around but maybe if you could just leave something on my box to let me know you’re thinking of me? Milo does that. It really helps things not feel so lonely and it puts a little bit of color back in the world.”
“Ever,” I said. “I promise I will leave something for you each time I come here.”
She grinned brightly at me. Her front tooth was missing. She had died before even her adult teeth had set in.
As Ever looked at me, I couldn’t help but think there was something familiar about the girl. It was in the way she smiled. Lopsided and warm. I wanted to help her. It was not a need that stacked up in a haphazard way so much as it felt like something I could do. The only thing that was really stopping me was the passage of time.
Looking up towards the lanterns, I sighed. First, we’d have to stop the tears in the Night Market, then, we would be able to address the problems of the spirits. It very well might already go hand in hand with one of the other, many insurmountable problems we had. I just couldn’t see the bigger picture yet.
“I need to get going. Technically, I’m on duty.”
Ever’s curls bobbed about her shoulders. “Will you tell Milo hi if you see him? That I miss him?”
At this rate, I thought Ever might see him before me. But I smiled at her all the same. “I will.” Hopping off the crates I bid the little girl farewell. When I got to the end of the alley, I looked back at her. She still sat, a faint glow emanating from her as she sang softly to her cow. Tears sprang to my eyes as I viewed her all alone. The Night Market was exceedingly beautiful but it had so much sorrow hidden within each dark corner.
[[Go back to the apothecary]]
The alley was silent. The luminescent eyes I had once seen staring at me from the depths of the burnt out building were gone. The small clicks and pops that could pass as just background noise were absent and death curled silently in each corner. Somehow, it made the alley less oppressive to walk down. The heaviness that had landed on my shoulders before was absent and while I knew the lack of wandering spirits should be a small concern, I found that it was the least on my list of worries. If they had somehow managed to escape, good for them. At the very least someone had managed to take control of their lives beneficially.
Heading through the last bits of charred street, I went to push open the gate when a raven cawed. Looking up, I glanced at the black bird perched above me, its black beaded eyes locking with my own. My hand froze on the latch of the gate. The bird’s glossy feathers ruffled as it eyed me curiously, eyes dilating. I got the sense that it was almost daring me to ignore him. Something I was hard-pressed to do given the fact that the animals around here had long since gone missing and this bird's caw was the first I had heard in some time.
Testing the situation, I pressed my hand against the gate, pushing forward.
When the raven took flight, it jutted up into the air, circling before diving in an arc towards me. But the curled talons of a raven did not touch the moss covered ground. Instead, the feet of a man fell upon the mushroom lined path.
“The Allfather summons you. Come with me.” Turning, he began to walk down the alley.
[[What? Wait. Who are you?]]
[[Follow him|Chapter Nine Follow him]]
[[That would be a no]]I looked around for the source of the transformation, still expecting to see a raven perched somewhere either on the gate or in a tree. The fact that it was supposedly this man now felt surreal, even with everything I had seen so far.
“Wait,” I called out. “Who are you? I don’t–”
“You misunderstand me. I was not leaving any of this open to questions.” His head was tipped dangerously to the side, hands clasped behind his back as he bowed to me gently. When he rose, I was standing in the middle of a stone hall, torches lit and dripping in red tinged molten flame.
The man smiled at me, a brief hum on his lips. Turning on his booted heel, he began walking down the hall we now stood in.
Stone slabs stacked high on top of one another, making up what looked like the alleys of the Night Market itself. These walls were narrower though, the domed ceiling above made of raw wood beams where flaming chandeliers hung. Fat, cream-colored candles burned brightly, encased in bands of iron, heating the room with the tinge of smoke. Somewhere deep within the stone walls was the echoing sound of a forge, the anvil clanging loudly as the sizzle of red-hot pokers were doused in water. The man did not stop walking and as I twisted to look behind me, I saw the remnants of a hall with wood arched doors, all leading to a dead end with a large tapestry of a wolf upon it.
“I’m not waiting,” the man called over his shoulder.
I began walking after him, my footsteps echoing loudly in the hall despite his own barely whispering against the floor.
[[You can’t just kidnap me]]
[[Wait. Can’t you offer me a bit more of an explanation?]]
I didn’t move. Standing with my back to the gate, I stared at the once raven's retreating form. He wore a dark blue tunic over tight black breeches, an onyx braided cord cinched around his waist. “That would be a hard no,” I said loudly. There was no way I was following whoever the hell this guys was.
He turned looking over his shoulder, eyes black as the bird that had stared at me from above.
“You misunderstand me. I was not asking.” His head was tipped dangerously to the side, hands clasped behind his back as he bowed to me gently. When he rose, I was standing in the middle of a stone hall, torches lit and dripping in red tinged molten flame.
The man smiled at me, a brief hum on his lips. Turning on his booted heel, he began walking down the hall we now stood in.
Stone slabs stacked high on top of one another, making up what looked like the alleys of the Night Market itself. These walls were narrower though, the domed ceiling above made of raw wood beams where flaming chandeliers hung. Fat, cream-colored candles burned brightly, encased in bands of iron, heating the room with the tinge of smoke. Somewhere deep within the stone walls was the echoing sound of a forge, the anvil clanging loudly as the sizzle of red-hot pokers were doused in water. The man did not stop walking and as I twisted to look behind me, I saw the remnants of a hall with wood arched doors, all leading to a dead end with a large tapestry of a wolf upon it.
“I’m not waiting,” the man called over his shoulder.
I began walking after him, my footsteps echoing loudly in the hall despite his own barely whispering against the floor.
[[You can’t just kidnap me]]
[[Wait. Can’t you offer me a bit more of an explanation?]]
Was following a strange bird man down a burnt out alley a smart thing to do? I didn’t know. But it all felt far too strange and far too surreal not to go after him. After all, when someone called the Allfather summoned you, I didn’t know how you refused.
“Good,” the man said over his shoulder. “You can follow orders.” Turning, he bowed to me, folding himself deeply in two. When he rose, I was standing in the middle of a stone hall, torches lit and dripping in red tinged molten flame.
The man smiled at me, a brief hum on his lips. Turning on his booted heel, he began walking down the hall we now stood in.
Stone slabs stacked high on top of one another, making up what looked like the alleys of the Night Market itself. These walls were narrower though, the domed ceiling above made of raw wood beams where flaming chandeliers hung. Fat, cream-colored candles burned brightly, encased in bands of iron, heating the room with the tinge of smoke. Somewhere deep within the stone walls was the echoing sound of a forge, the anvil clanging loudly as the sizzle of red-hot pokers were doused in water. The man did not stop walking and as I twisted to look behind me, I saw the remnants of a hall with wood arched doors, all leading to a dead end with a large tapestry of a wolf upon it.
“I’m not waiting,” the man called over his shoulder.
I began walking after him, my footsteps echoing loudly in the hall despite his own barely whispering against the floor.
[[You can’t just kidnap me]]
[[Wait. Can’t you offer me a bit more of an explanation?]]
“You can’t just kidnap me,” I hissed, looking around the hall wildly.
“Oh darn,” he said. “Whatever should I do in this situation.” There was no break in his stride as he continued walking.
“Where even is here?” I called out to him. I picked up my pace to keep up with him. I doubted if I got left in this hall, I would have any idea where to go. The more doors that we passed, the more I was convinced we were in a stone maze. When he didn’t answer me, I felt my headache beginning to get worse. “You could at least tell me who you are,” I told him. “Either that or send me back home.”
“No on both fronts. And that shanty of an apothecary is not a home. It’s a blight on the market.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh cute. You ask questions when you’re offended. How quaint. This way.” Turning down another hall, he continued walking. My options were really to either follow him or start busting down doors and while the later part appealed to a deep part of me, I doubted that would get me much of anywhere.
[[Follow him and find out where it is he is taking you]]
[[Refuse to follow until he gives you answers]]
As I fell in step beside him, I looked around the room, silently cataloging my way out. All the doors were closed and aside from a woman cleaning far down the hall, there was no one else around.
“What is going on?” I asked him. “You could have offered me a bit more of an explanation before taking me here.” How he even did that I didn’t know. Magic was supposed to be null and void unless you were a Baron. I paused, staring at him. Unless…
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not what you think I am. And I could have offered you an explanation but the entire process of doing so sounds incredibly droll. So, I chose to cut my losses and choose a more exciting path where I had to hear very little of the pathetic sounds of your voice.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh cute. You ask questions when you’re offended. How quaint. This way.” Turning down another hall, he continued walking. My options were really to either follow him or start busting down doors and while the later part appealed to a deep part of me, I doubted that would get me much of anywhere.
[[Follow him and find out where it is he is taking you]]
[[Refuse to follow until he gives you answers]]Following him, I fell in step by my side. When I did, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye, a sneer on his lips. I was inferior to him and he was going to let me know. “Look, I’m cooperating,” I told him. “Can you explain what is going on a bit more so I don’t walk into whatever this is blind?”
He rolled his eyes at me but seemed a little more pleased at my kinder tone. Stopping, he turned to me, planting his feet firmly on the ground. “You are trying to meet with all the Barons, yes?” I nodded. “The Allfather is the Baron of the Iron District. You will be meeting with him momentarily. Do try not to make a fool of yourself.”
I felt my heart skip. I knew Belladonna had been in contact with the other Barons but as of yet we had not heard if the Baron of the Iron District was willing to work with us. The fact that he now took me was both convenient and a little bit unnerving.
“You couldn’t have just said any of that before?”
He shrugged. “It is not my duty to hold your hand. I was merely sent to summon you and I did it in the quickest way possible. Best not to keep the Baron waiting.” His eyes squinted as he leaned forward and clearly took a condescending tone with me. There was something about his movement, now that I was truly looking at him, that seemed familiar. Blonde hair fell like a crown upon his head while his eyes were solid black. He had a somewhat beaked nose and skin that had seen the sun but was bitten with cold.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
With a sigh, he turned and continued to walk down the hall.
This time, I did follow him, walking behind him and keeping myself wary.
“The Allfather is in a meeting right now but you can sit outside the chamber. Once the doors close behind you, I will be leaving. You will have no option to run.” He looked up and down my arms. “You certainly will not be able to open the door.”
[[Who is the Allfather?]]
[[Why didn’t he just send word that he wanted to meet?]]
[[Why does this Allfather want to meet with me now?]]
Crossing my arms, I leaned against the wall. It took the man a moment. A good solid moment, before he realized I wasn’t by his side. I could hear the eye roll more than see it as he turned my way. The expression on his face was one of incredible tedium as he very clearly felt thought this retrieval mission of his was beneath him.
“Really?” he asked with a raised brow.
“You don’t get to take the high horse here. You literally snatched me from outside my home–”
“You have no home. You are a wandering of the market. The Albright child simply took you in.”
“Doesn’t matter. Either way, you took me. And if you want me to follow you without kicking and screaming, you’ll tell me what exactly is going on.”
This time, I got to see the eye roll. Taking another step forward, he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You are looking at meeting all the Baron’s, yes?” I nodded. “The Allfather is the Baron of the Iron District. I am taking you to meet him. You’re welcome.”
I felt my heart skip. I knew Belladonna had been in contact with the other Barons but as of yet we had not heard if the Baron of the Iron District was willing to work with us. The fact that he now took me was both convenient and a little bit unnerving.
“You couldn’t have just said any of that before?”
He shrugged. “It is not my duty to hold your hand. I was merely sent to summon you and I did it in the quickest way possible. Best not to keep the Baron waiting.” His eyes squinted as he leaned forward and clearly took a condescending tone with me. There was something about his movement, now that I was truly looking at him, that seemed familiar. Blonde hair fell like a crown upon his head while his eyes were solid black. He had a somewhat beaked nose and skin that had seen the sun but was bitten with cold.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
With a sigh, he turned and continued to walk down the hall.
This time, I did follow him, walking behind him and keeping myself wary.
“The Allfather is in a meeting right now but you can sit outside the chamber. Once the doors close behind you, I will be leaving. You will have no option to run.” He looked up and down my arms. “You certainly will not be able to open the door.”
[[Who is the Allfather?]]
[[Why didn’t he just send word that he wanted to meet?]]
[[Why does this Allfather want to meet with me now?]]
“Who is this Allfather?” I asked. I had certainly never heard of him before. Then again, that probably didn’t mean much coming from me. It was very clear that the corner of the Night Market I was inhabiting didn’t even equal a fraction of the world I was in.
“I already said he is the Baron of the Iron District. Do try to keep up.”
“I just meant, why is he called Allfather instead of Baron? What’s the point of that?”
“He is a god. The ruler of a realm far grander than this shithole. You would do well to remember that when you speak to him.”
Two large stone doors loomed before us at the end of the hall, spanning at least three stories tall. They opened into a small stone courtyard with a blazing fire in the middle. A few fledgling birch trees were scattered around, mounds of dirt folded around the base of their trunks. In the center of the room was a large communal wood table, much like the ones I had seen in the Renaissance district with Caliban. No one sat around these, however. Other than me, the courtyard was entirely empty.
“Have fun,” the man said from behind me, beginning to pull the doors shut. “And do try to remember you are in the presence of a god.” When the doors shut they shut with a rumble. I was left standing there, alone without even the comforting light of the lanterns above to calm me.
I could hear myself breathe. The fresh scent of pine surrounded me and I was almost certain that we were actually outside despite the stone that lay thickly to each side of me. Wolves howled in the distance as an owl somewhere took flight. Even the air felt different from what I was used to in the Night Marker. Crisper. Clean. Devoid of the bits of populace that came with the bustle of the market itself.
It was not long after that I heard voices though. A murmured bit of them coming from down the way. The courtyard was entirely open concept to a night sky above with twinkling stars while a few rooms lay off to the side, all open. Only one was lit up by firelight, however.
[[Next|Nine 2]]“If the Baron wished to speak to me, why didn’t he just send word?” Belladonna had reached out to him. I knew she had. But nothing had been given to her in return and for the most part, we were ignored.
“It is not my job to question what the Allfather does,” the man explained. “And it is certainly not your job to do so either. If he did not reach out to you, it was not time yet. Thinking that you know more than him, while not surprising given who you are, is not going to end well in your favor.”
Two large stone doors loomed before us at the end of the hall, spanning at least three stories tall. They opened into a small stone courtyard with a blazing fire in the middle. A few fledgling birch trees were scattered around, mounds of dirt folded around the base of their trunks. In the center of the room was a large communal wood table, much like the ones I had seen in the Renaissance district with Caliban. No one sat around these, however. Other than me, the courtyard was entirely empty.
“Have fun,” the man said from behind me, beginning to pull the doors shut. “And do try to remember you are in the presence of a god.” When the doors shut they shut with a rumble. I was left standing there, alone without even the comforting light of the lanterns above to calm me.
I could hear myself breathe. The fresh scent of pine surrounded me and I was almost certain that we were actually outside despite the stone that lay thickly to each side of me. Wolves howled in the distance as an owl somewhere took flight. Even the air felt different from what I was used to in the Night Marker. Crisper. Clean. Devoid of the bits of populace that came with the bustle of the market itself.
It was not long after that I heard voices though. A murmured bit of them coming from down the way. The courtyard was entirely open concept to a night sky above with twinkling stars while a few rooms lay off to the side, all open. Only one was lit up by firelight, however.
[[Next|Nine 2]]“Why now?” I demanded. “We have been trying to reach him for weeks and he has had no interest in meeting us. Why does he suddenly send you to come and retrieve me?”
“I did not ask.”
“You just do everything you are told?”
“In general.” His shoulders rolled in such a way that reminded me of the ruffling of feathers. “It is my job, after all.”
Two large stone doors loomed before us at the end of the hall, spanning at least three stories tall. They opened into a small stone courtyard with a blazing fire in the middle. A few fledgling birch trees were scattered around, mounds of dirt folded around the base of their trunks. In the center of the room was a large communal wood table, much like the ones I had seen in the Renaissance district with Caliban. No one sat around these, however. Other than me, the courtyard was entirely empty.
“Have fun,” the man said from behind me, beginning to pull the doors shut. “And do try to remember you are in the presence of a god.” When the doors shut they shut with a rumble. I was left standing there, alone without even the comforting light of the lanterns above to calm me.
I could hear myself breathe. The fresh scent of pine surrounded me and I was almost certain that we were actually outside despite the stone that lay thickly to each side of me. Wolves howled in the distance as an owl somewhere took flight. Even the air felt different from what I was used to in the Night Marker. Crisper. Clean. Devoid of the bits of populace that came with the bustle of the market itself.
It was not long after that I heard voices though. A murmured bit of them coming from down the way. The courtyard was entirely open concept to a night sky above with twinkling stars while a few rooms lay off to the side, all open. Only one was lit up by firelight, however.
[[Next|Nine 2]]
What was expected of me was probably to sit on the wood benches and await my summons. But my skin itched at the thought. Maybe I just struggled to be alone after the Deep. Or curiosity was beginning to get the better of me. Upon hearing the murmurs, I couldn’t help but creep forward. The room in question was warm with a fiery glow that spilled out into the courtyard. It was like it was beckoning me and like a moth, I was unable to ignore its call.
A man stood in the center of the room, dressed all in black. Though his coat was tailored with lines of opal and the underside of his jacket was a deep crimson. Teardrop gems of rubies hung from each ear and upon his hand was a ring of moss colored stone. Lavender hair swiped across his pale and chiseled face as he stared at someone in the dark. It was his hand, however, that caught me. It rested upon the bare shoulder of a woman, his thumb soothingly passing against her collar bone from time to time. The woman in question did not lean into his touch but seemed to more accept it as a part of herself. A ruby snake hissed around her neck before settling into stone and sinking into her skin. A warning for whoever she was staring at in the dark.
She sat tall and regal, her hands clasped delicately in her lap. Upon her fingers was a matching signet ring to the one I spied on the man's hand as well. They looked split in two though and I knew that if they were to be placed side by side, they would click together effortlessly.
“This is not a situation that I plan to drop. I am coming to you as a courtesy. A courtesy, mind you, that I do not have to abide by since we do not come from the same realm.” It was Chrysanthemum. The Book Baron's wife and the first Baron to have given me any semblance of a Baron’s favor. The man standing behind her, I could only assume, was her husband.
Her face was not full and kind as it had been when I had met her. She wore a gown of solid crimson, the same pearls on her husband's coat studding across her bodice and lining the plunging neckline. She looked much more severe than the soft and ethereal blue she had been dressed in. The curvaceous form of the woman before me was no longer posed in such a way that felt inviting but instead looked ready to attack.
“I am surprised the two of you have traveled together on this request. It is not something I am used to.” The voice from the dark was soft and kindly. But with each word the man spoke, I could see the way the Book Baron's hand tightened upon his wife. I was unsure if he was keeping himself at bay, or her.
“Noctine and I are a united front. Especially on this endeavor. Is that so hard to understand?”
“Not at all. In fact, I feel honored to be in the presence of Noctine Sala and Chrysanthemum Haust. Though, I notice you never took his name, your majesty. How strange. To most, that would be an undesirable trait within a wife.”
Chrysanthemum’s smile was rigid and thin. “I was unaware that an exchange of names was what determined my love for someone. How enlightening that you, however, think as such.”
The man chuckled. “Do not get me wrong, I find it refreshing. The two of you. Such young beauty and youth. Tell me, why have you not returned to the fae realms? Your fathers surely miss you two dearly. I know how I am when my sons are gone far too long.”
“Our whereabouts are not what this meeting is about.” The Book Baron spoke with barely an utterance from his lips. Though the threat that threaded through his words was one that coated the walls with the soft hiss of a snake. I glanced towards Chrysanthemum’s necklace, almost expecting to see it jump off her form and slither across the ground. It only sunk further into her skin, however, tattooing her neck.
“Call off the Hunt,” Chrysanthemum said, tipping her chin upwards. “It has gone on far too long and you have had your fun. The time for something new is nigh.”
“Is it?” The voice was full of humor. “I find I rather enjoy my time with the Hunt.”
“You are here, sitting on a broken throne, within a realm you cannot even call your own,” she said. “You have not been on the Hunt for years.”
“I am not the only member of the Hunt itself.”
“No, but you are their leader. If you set down your spear, they will follow.”
[[Next|Nine 3]]
There was silence as the man considered this. With each second that passed, the Book Baron grew more and more tense. A weapon waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“And if I don’t call this off?”
“Damnit, Odin,” Chrysanthemum snapped. I could see the fury swipe across her body as black vines began to stretch across the floor beneath her feet. “This is no longer a game. Half your Hunt is dead as it is. Cut your losses and have your fun elsewhere. I think we have quite proven that we have evaded your fun.”
“Have you? Because your group was cut in half too, as I recall. In fact, Princess Haust, you are the only one that I think has managed to make a life for herself after our romp in the bog.”
Pink stained her cheeks as she sat forward, something dark flicking in her eyes. “Yes, and do you feel good about that day? Hunting down the unexpected? People who were worn down and had little to no means to defend themselves? I was merely a child. Yet you reveled in chasing me through the fields and watching as I lost everything I–”
Behind her, her husband stepped forward. He cleared his throat loudly. I noticed the way he stood in front of her. Not protecting her, but giving her a moment to regain herself once more. It was clear she was a woman who did not relish in losing control in front of others, but whatever they were discussing was one that tore at her heart too quickly.
“Odin,” he began, his voice a soft whisper. “The Wild Hunt is eternal. The prey is not. Call off the Hunt and we will provide you with another game for you to play, if you desire.”
“Rather diplomatic of you,” Odin replied.
“My wife has assured me diplomacy was the best course of action,” he said thinly. Whatever he had wished to have done in this situation was yet to be told.
Beneath them, the black vines began to recede. They lingered around Chrysanthemum’s feet but were no longer the threat they had presented before.
“Your beast,” Odin began, “I’ve had on the run for quite some time. Through your death, if memory serves me, Lady Haust. I would have thought you would have given me something to free him long ago. Unless, his wishes were for you not to.”
Neither Chrysanthemum nor Noctine moved at that. It felt like a far more telling sign than anything they could have said and I couldn’t help but think it was their one slip up in the face of this shadowed man.
“If you want me to call off my men, then I would like to know why now? Why are you going over his head when you haven’t any of the other times before?”
The room was silent, a chilled wind meandering through despite the flames that flickered on each wall. Chrysanthemum stood, her shoulder pressed to her husband’s, her hand seeking his own. I watched as they clasped them together, squeezing gently and pouring strength through their connection.
“I am with child,” Chrysanthemum said. “I would like Casimir home.”
The smile that curled in the dark filled the room. “And here I thought you would not bring a babe into the world until Taliesin was dead.”
“He is on my list,” she said through gritted teeth.
[[Next|Nine 4]]
The creaking of a chair sounded and from the dark, a figure stepped. At first, I thought him an old man, his form hunched and the cloak he wore slightly tattered. But as he stepped into the firelight, I watched him change before my eyes. Standing straight, the cloak fell from his shoulders, revealing muscled arms and a broad chest. A grey beard was tapered across his chin with several beaded braids entwined throughout. His salt and pepper hair was combed neatly back and while his skin held the clear signs of age, he still gave off the aura of someone far younger than what he appeared. He looked at the two Barons before him, a patch across one eye.
“This conversation will have to wait, I’m afraid,” he said apologetically. “I do have company.”
All the torches went out at once, as if a great wind had blown through the room, without so much as rustling a hair on any of the Baron’s heads.
They relit to an eerie ultraviolet flame that burned soundlessly. Ominous, those flames stood as if witnesses to a much newer dynamic. One far more dangerous than what had been presented.
Chrysanthemum stood in her same position, but Noctine had stepped away from her. The click of his boots was loud and echoing strangely, each wave of sound distorted the edges of my vision as if several realities had begun to bleed into one.
It was the Book Baron’s ire, I realized. Ire which I could feel as if it were my own. It infected the plane of existence around him like it were no more than his looking glass.
In short, it was clear, his patience had snapped.
“Then your company shall bear witness to your humble apologies, ‘Allfather’.” The Book Baron spoke in a soft, musical voice which was far more at home in a satin wrapped salon than this stone antechamber. “For that is what you shall graciously tack on the end of a promise to call off the hunt, and abandon your ill-considered obsession. We both know it was a thinly veiled attempt to destroy the paltry words of crooked soothe sayers, culminating a prophecy your kind fear above all else.” Noctine tipped his head forward, spreading his arms. “That prophecy which has already come to pass.”
Odin made no physical reaction to Noctine’s cryptic, threatening words, but there was something in the air around him which changed. Sharpened. Focused in on the lavender haired man who I began to feel foolish for thinking even resembled one at all. The longer I stared, the more his shape seemed to distort, splitting to odd repeated patterns of color in my vision. Even rubbing at my eyes couldn’t dispel what he was- what he //wasn’t.//
“Ragnarok,” the Allfather finally whispered, his tone perfectly even. Even though he made the word sound like a curse. “It has come to pass only in one of the endless webs of time connected to this place. Who is to say it could not be stopped in others?”
“You are welcome to take that question, and ponder it deeply, all the way back to Asgard,” Noctine told him politely. “For if your wretched, one eyed gaze ever turns in the direction of those I love again, Odin, I promise you this; there will be no timeline, no reality, no speck or atom left in the endless expanse of the event horizon where you can hide that I will not find you.” Those soft words melded into a hiss. The room fractured further, bits of its structure disintegrating into a void that seemed to stem from the Baron himself. All of it, forming a generous distance from his wife who still stood quietly behind him. Watching him with breathless focus that I mimicked unconsciously.
The Allfather was unmoved, “Is that a threat, Prince Sala?”
“It is,” the man, the great snake which coiled in the tree of all life, who promised knowledge and despair and at the end of it, death, replied. “One you would be wise to keep in mind, from this day forward.” Turning, he held his arm out for his wife, dismissing the Allfather and holding her close as they made their exit.
As the two of them walked past me, I glanced their way. The Book Baron paid me no heed, his attention solely on the woman he held dear. Chrysanthemum however, turned to look at me, her eyes a deep sage green. She stopped, her expression unreadable as she cast her gaze up and down my form, as if seeing me for the first time.
“I hope you kill every Baron in this district,” she said. “If the opportunity comes? Burn this hierarchy to the ground.” Her hand was settled on her stomach, the beginnings of the swell of life beneath her palm.
Leaning in close, her husband brushed his lips against her ear. “Patience, little flower. The day will come.”
Chrysanthemum closed her eyes and nodded before turning into her husband's embrace. And the two of them walked through the courtyard, arm in arm. With a flick of his hand, Noctine obliterated the doors that led to their escape and they walked right through.
“Dramatic, that bunch is.” the man, Odin, said from behind me. “And, my apologies. I rather thought that meeting would be shorter than it was.”
[[No worries. Thank you for meeting with me]]
[[I thought Barons were not supposed to meet outside their monthly meetings?]]
[[It looked like it had barely begun when I arrived]]My eyes lingered on where they had disappeared. With each step they had taken, the tension had begun to ease and the tightness around my chest loosened with a slow burning his. It was not my job to ask questions about Baron meetings and I wasn’t about to claim any of the Barons time. If we got a favor, I would have happily continued to wait.
“No worries,” I told him, turning away from where Noctine and Chrysanthemum had departed to give my attention fully to the man before me. “Thank you for meeting with me.”
“Thank you for coming, $name,” he said politely.
I blinked in surprise. “You know my name?”
“You are making quite the ruckus within the Night Market. I would think anyone that is important in this realm should take note of you.” Gesturing, Odin motioned for me to follow him further into his meeting chamber. I did not take the seat that Chrysanthemum had just vacated, and instead, walked further into the room where a large fire blazed. Log chairs were circled around it, warmed and welcoming. Across from me, Odin pulled out a pipe, packing something within its barrel before holding it over the flames and lighting it. After a few puffs, he offered it to me to share.
[[Take it]]
[[No, thank you]]I stared at where Chrysanthemum and Noctine departed. Two people who were Barons. Or at least shared the title from what I could gather. Not only were they defying the rules of being involved with each other, but they were meeting with another one of the nine. All of which I had been told, were against the so-called rules.
“I thought Barons were not supposed to meet outside their monthly meetings?” I asked hesitantly. I almost thought I would be smote down for even calling attention to the fact.
Odin laughed good naturally. But he did not answer my question. “They did say you were a funny one, $name.”
I blinked in surprise. “You know my name?”
“You are making quite the ruckus within the Night Market. I would think anyone that is important in this realm should take note of you.” Gesturing, Odin motioned for me to follow him further into his meeting chamber. I did not take the seat that Chrysanthemum had just vacated, and instead, walked further into the room where a large fire blazed. Log chairs were circled around it, warmed and welcoming. Across from me, Odin pulled out a pipe, packing something within its barrel before holding it over the flames and lighting it. After a few puffs, he offered it to me to share.
[[Take it]]
[[No, thank you]]
<<set $perception ++>>“It didn’t look like they had been here long,” I said.
The man smiled. It was a kindly one that crinkled at the corner. “Let’s just put it this way. I did not think the meeting would have even happened. Normally, the husband gets rather violent. I am shocked that he was able to calm his paranoia enough to let his dear wife come here. Controlling bastard that he is. But, you, $name, are not here for that.”
I blinked in surprise. “You know my name?”
“You are making quite the ruckus within the Night Market. I would think anyone that is important in this realm should take note of you.” Gesturing, Odin motioned for me to follow him further into his meeting chamber. I did not take the seat that Chrysanthemum had just vacated, and instead, walked further into the room where a large fire blazed. Log chairs were circled around it, warmed and welcoming. Across from me, Odin pulled out a pipe, packing something within its barrel before holding it over the flames and lighting it. After a few puffs, he offered it to me to share.
[[Take it]]
[[No, thank you]]Reaching out, I took the offering, puffing on the end of the pipe. It smelled like sweet mint and filled my lungs with something smooth and comforting. Across from me, the Baron looked pleased at my actions.
“My name is Odin,” he said, lowering himself onto one of the log stools. Behind him, the edges of it curled upwards to form a backrest, the seat itself suddenly looking more like a throne. “Or the Allfather, depending on who you talk to. I am the Baron of the Iron District. I am sorry that I did not respond to Belladonna Malady’s correspondence before. I admit, that I thought all of this some sort of ruse.”
“A ruse? Which part?”
“All of it,” he laughed.
With a deep breath, I shook my head. The man before me looked willing to listen but I didn’t know how someone could be in such power and not realize what was going on with the world he was supposed to reside over. “I assure you, the Night Market is splitting apart.”
“World ending prophecies. Now that, I am used to.” Sitting back in his chair, Odin puffed on his pipe. The one eye that was visible seemed to contemplate the surroundings. He looked at peace for a man that had just been threatened and who now was discussing the end of existence. “I ran from my world because of something similar. Figured, if I am part of that prophecy, the world cannot end if I am not there.”
“And is that true?”
“Asgard holds,” he said. “For how long is up to the twists of time.” Off to the side, a large clay pitcher sat with two iron steins. “Do you wish for some ale? I’m going to pour you some. I find it helps in meetings to at least have something you can clutch in your hands.”
As he leaned forward with a tired grunt, pouring me a mug of ale, I stared at him. From what I had observed before, I was not expecting the figure that had been in the dark to be a kindly old man. Yet, nothing he said or did at this point felt even vaguely threatening. Whoever had brought me here was far more threatening than himself.
Accepting the stein from him, I sat back, holding it in my hands as he suggested and watching as he took a deep drink.
“I entrust that you had a safe journey here?” he asked. “I sent one of my best men to retrieve you.”
[[It was fine]]
[[Whoever that was, is an asshole]]
[[You may need to have your staff work on their bedside manner]]<<set $perception to $perception + 1>>I shook my head no but settled down on a chair across from him.
“My name is Odin,” he said, lowering himself onto one of the log stools. Behind him, the edges of it curled upwards to form a backrest, the seat itself suddenly looking more like a throne. “Or the Allfather, depending on who you talk to. I am the Baron of the Iron District. I am sorry that I did not respond to Belladonna Malady’s correspondence before. I admit, that I thought all of this some sort of ruse.”
“A ruse? Which part?”
“All of it,” he laughed.
With a deep breath, I shook my head. The man before me looked willing to listen but I didn’t know how someone could be in such power and not realize what was going on with the world he was supposed to reside over. “I assure you, the Night Market is splitting apart.”
“World ending prophecies. Now that, I am used to.” Sitting back in his chair, Odin puffed on his pipe. The one eye that was visible seemed to contemplate the surroundings. He looked at peace for a man that had just been threatened and who now was discussing the end of existence. “I ran from my world because of something similar. Figured, if I am part of that prophecy, the world cannot end if I am not there.”
“And is that true?”
“Asgard holds,” he said. “For how long is up to the twists of time.” Off to the side, a large clay pitcher sat with two iron steins. “Do you wish for some ale? I’m going to pour you some. I find it helps in meetings to at least have something you can clutch in your hands.”
As he leaned forward with a tired grunt, pouring me a mug of ale, I stared at him. From what I had observed before, I was not expecting the figure that had been in the dark to be a kindly old man. Yet, nothing he said or did at this point felt even vaguely threatening. Whoever had brought me here was far more threatening than himself.
Accepting the stein from him, I sat back, holding it in my hands as he suggested and watching as he took a deep drink.
“I entrust that you had a safe journey here?” he asked. “I sent one of my best men to retrieve you.”
[[It was fine]]
[[Whoever that was, is an asshole]]
[[You may need to have your staff work on their bedside manner]]
“It was fine,” I lied. “Thank you.” I didn’t want to get on this Baron's bad side. We needed the favor. I could suck up to his lackies less than stellar behavior if it meant in the end, we’d get what we needed.
But the deep belly laugh that came from Odin said he didn’t buy it. Not even for a minute. “Given the way your eye just twitched he must have been extra unpleasant. Tell me, what did he do so I can properly make amends for his actions.”
I shook my head. “Really. It is okay. He was just a bit… dismissive.”
Wiping at his eyes, he nodded. “Aw, yes. That does sound like him. He gets a bit testy when I have to send him on errands. Though, it is good for him. He takes his job entirely too seriously at times. I keep telling him to take a day off. Go travel the realms for a bit. Find himself a mate. Do you think he listens to his dear old dad?”
“He’s your son?”
“In a way.” Taking another drink of ale, the Allfather sighed. “Tell me about yourself, $name. I find you rather intriguing and when you reach the age I do, I must admit, intriguing is not often something you come across.”
[[Tell him about yourself]]
[[I would rather hear about you]]
[[I think it’s best to discuss why I’m here]]“I don’t know who that was, but he was an asshole,” I said immediately. Perhaps I should have curbed my words when it came to a Baron but whoever that man was who had retrieved me, had left a bitter note across my tongue.
Odin, looked genuinely confused. “Was Huginn not kind?”
I felt a small swell of laughter bubble inside me. “I don’t believe he knows even the meaning of the word. He kidnapped me without explanation and then was dismissive when I dared to protest.”
At that, Odin nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Aw, yes. That does sound like him. He gets a bit testy when I have to send him on errands. Though, it is good for him. He takes his job entirely too seriously at times. I keep telling him to take a day off. Go travel the realms for a bit. Find himself a mate. Do you think he listens to his dear old dad?”
“He’s your son?”
“In a way.” Taking another drink of ale, the Allfather sighed. “Tell me about yourself, $name. I find you rather intriguing and when you reach the age I do, I must admit, intriguing is not often something you come across.”
[[Tell him about yourself]]
[[I would rather hear about you]]
[[I think it’s best to discuss why I’m here]]“My suggestion would be to have your staff work on their bedside manner,” I said delicately. I didn’t want to outright throw whoever that was to the proverbial wolves, but it also was not something I was going to leave unsaid just because this man was a Baron.
Odin, looked genuinely confused. “Was Huginn not kind?”
I felt a small swell of laughter bubble inside me. “He was dismissive,” I said. And that was the politest way I knew how to answer that question.
At that, Odin nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Aw, yes. That does sound like him. He gets a bit testy when I have to send him on errands. Though, it is good for him. He takes his job entirely too seriously at times. I keep telling him to take a day off. Go travel the realms for a bit. Find himself a mate. Do you think he listens to his dear old dad?”
“He’s your son?”
“In a way.” Taking another drink of ale, the Allfather sighed. “Tell me about yourself, $name. I find you rather intriguing and when you reach the age I do, I must admit, intriguing is not often something you come across.”
[[Tell him about yourself]]
[[I would rather hear about you]]
[[I think it’s best to discuss why I’m here]]“I’m not really sure what it is I should say,” I told him. It was doubtful he was interested in anything I had to say. But the polite gesture of small talk was the dance that was being played here and I saw no harm in entertaining it.
“You are new to the market, are you not?” he asked.
I nodded. “Fairly new. I still don’t know how I got here.” Almost the moment I said it I wished I hadn’t. Odin’s face didn’t change, but there was something about admitting to that that felt like a weakness. I didn’t know why.
“Do you plan to stay?” he asked curiously.
“I really don’t know,” I said pragmatically. “There are so many other things going on I’m not sure if I can really answer that until my tasks are complete.”
He nodded. “Seeking a small bit of each Baron's power to uncover the Gatekeeper. Yes, I know. And, I am a little surprised we have not enacted such a thing before. The secrecy of the Gatekeeper has been a contested issue for as long as I can remember. I think it might be best if everything is out in the open. At least, if you uncover the name of such an individual, we will have confirmation of whether or not we even have a Gatekeeper currently. I would like to go home and see my wife, after all. But with only one gate back to Asgard, it is quite impossible to do.”
“Why not just use the one gate that remains open?” I asked.
“I am a rather public individual back home. My enemies would be waiting for me there. I cannot return home through the public gate. One that could open within or near my home would be far better.” He sighed. “I suppose, however, Frigg is fine. I have a feeling if she truly wanted me home, she would march through the gate and drag me there. She has before.” There was a fondness to him as he spoke of his wife. One that caused his wrinkles to deepen as the thought of home and love wrapped around him.
“It seems like you really love her.”
“Oh, I do. A woman that will put up with me is a godsend,” he chuckled, as if he were making some sort of joke. When I didn’t get it, he merely waved it off. “$name, I do wish to help you. I will give you my favor without complaint. The old ways of the market are done and we need to usher in a new era. Barons not working with each other, in some cases, not even knowing who each other are? It is causing a divide that is simply not sustainable.”
[[You seem far too kind for what I walked in on with the other Barons]]
[[I’m finding that most Barons are willing to help. This isn’t as hard as I thought it would be]]
[[What is the catch?]]
“There really isn’t a lot to say about me,” I deflected. “But I would love to know more about you. The Barons all seem incredibly illusive to me.”
“I admit,” he began. “I do not consider myself much of a Baron. While I hold the title, I owe more allegiance to my people in Asgard.”
“You are their god, from what I hear.”
“Technically yes, though I don’t like giving myself the title. It all sounds so pretentious and I have always prided myself a man who seeks out knowledge more than amasses power through worship. It is partially why I am so interested in you. In what you are doing, now that I know it is not false. The information you seek is one I think we could all get behind.”
“What do you mean?”
“The secrecy of the Gatekeeper has been a contested issue for as long as I can remember,” he said. “I think it might be best if everything is out in the open. At least, if you uncover the name of such an individual, we will have confirmation of whether we even have a Gatekeeper. I would like to go home and see my wife, after all. But with only one gate back to Asgard, it is quite impossible to do.”
“Why not just use the one gate that remains open?” I asked.
“I am a rather public individual back home. My enemies would be waiting for me there. I cannot return home through the public gate. One that could open within or near my home would be far better.” He sighed. “I suppose, however, Frigg is fine. I have a feeling if she truly wanted me home, she would march through the gate and drag me there. She has before.” There was a fondness to him as he spoke of his wife. One that caused his wrinkles to deepen as the thought of home and love wrapped around him.
“It seems like you really love her.”
“Oh, I do. A woman that will put up with me is a godsend,” he chuckled, as if he were making some sort of joke. When I didn’t get it, he merely waved it off. “$name, I do wish to help you. I will give you my favor without complaint. The old ways of the market are done and we need to usher in a new era. Barons not working with each other, in some cases, not even knowing who each other are? It is causing a divide that is simply not sustainable.”
[[You seem far too kind for what I walked in on with the other Barons]]
[[I’m finding that most Barons are willing to help. This isn’t as hard as I thought it would be]]
[[What is the catch?]]
“With all due respect, I think it might be better to just speak about why I am here,” I told him. The idea of a Baron knowing anything personal about me left me feeling slightly on edge. “I’m not sure if the other Barons will follow through. It’s been a week of no contact with any of them and after what felt like a domino effect of meeting Barons, I’m a bit anxious.”
“Of course. Of course,” he said, voice full of understanding. “I did hear about the ordeal with Baron Elias. Are you alright after all that? He is not an easy sort.”
“It was… difficult.”
“I would assume so. Elias is a troubled individual and the circumstances that made him a Baron are disheartening. I am sorry you did have to deal with something like that. I assume you did get his favor though?”
“We did.” Pausing, I frowned. “So you know then the goal we are after?”
He nodded. “Seeking a small bit of each Baron’s power to uncover the Gatekeeper. Yes, I know. And, I am a little surprised we have not enacted such a thing before. The secrecy of the Gatekeeper has been a contested issue for as long as I can remember. I think it might be best if everything is out in the open. At least, if you uncover the name of such an individual, we will have confirmation of whether we even have a Gatekeeper currently. I would like to go home and see my wife, after all. But with only one gate back to Asgard, it is quite impossible to do.”
“Why not just use the one gate that remains open?” I asked.
“I am a rather public individual back home. My enemies would be waiting for me there. I cannot return home through the public gate. One that could open within or near my home would be far better.” He sighed. “I suppose, however, Frigg is fine. I have a feeling if she truly wanted me home, she would march through the gate and drag me there. She has before.” There was a fondness to him as he spoke of his wife. One that caused his wrinkles to deepen as the thought of home and love wrapped around him.
“It seems like you really love her.”
“Oh, I do. A woman that will put up with me is a godsend,” he chuckled, as if he were making some sort of joke. When I didn’t get it, he merely waved it off. “$name, I do wish to help you. I will give you my favor without complaint. The old ways of the market are done and we need to usher in a new era. Barons not working with each other, in some cases, not even knowing who each other are? It is causing a divide that is simply not sustainable.”
[[You seem far too kind for what I walked in on with the other Barons]]
[[I’m finding that most Barons are willing to help. This isn’t as hard as I thought it would be]]
[[What is the catch?]]I narrowed my eyes a fraction. “Given what I walked in on, you seem far kinder than what you presented.”
He smiled warmly at me. “The Lady Chrysanthemum and I have had a past with each other,” he said cryptically. “If my words were not kind to her, I assure you it stems from the death of my friends. Just as I’m sure hers stems from the death of hers. We are old creatures that have lived long and have out survived many. But I assure you, $name, if you do not cross me, you have nothing to fear. I do not make a habit of forming enemies.”
I wanted to believe him. And a part of me did. It was a logical way to conduct yourself in power, I supposed and was probably what helped him get where he was. Never be the one to strike first. Let someone else make an enemy out of you and not the other way around.
“I do ask something of you, however,” he said. “In an effort of transparency. I would like nothing more than to help but I do wish to receive something in return seeing as I am giving away quite a fair bit of my power.”
It was not an entirely unexpected request. I nodded at him to continue.
It took Odin a minute to settle down but when he did, it was with a gravity that doused the flames to a low roar.
“It is my son,” he said. “I need help.”
“Your son.” I looked over my shoulder. “The one I just met?”
“His twin, actually. Muninn. He is lost to me and I need him home. I fear for him if he does not return.”
[[Is he lost or did he run away?]]
[[What do you mean you fear for him?]]
[[How did you lose your son?]]“Most Barons are oddly on the same page,” I said. It hadn’t been what I expected. When I had gone into this, it seemed far more likely I would be met with protests from each of them. A readiness to not work with one another. Yet, thus far, they had been fairly amicable. The only one that had given me any real hold up with Baron Kamille.
“We may all have our own places we hail from, but that does not mean we wish to see the beauty of the Night Market die,” he told me. There was a slice of relief that shivered across me. It was affirming somehow to know that in the end, most of us did want the same thing. And that was to see the Night Market continue to thrive.
“Though,” he said, dragging out the syllable. “I will be asking for something in return. A boon, if you will.”
Softly, I closed my eyes. I felt a bit foolish for not seeing that coming. “Of course.” Opening my eyes again, I stared at him, trying to brace myself for whatever it was he was about to ask.
He looked pained at the topic, surprisingly, which almost made me feel a bit better. “It’s my son,” he began softly. “I need some help with him.”
“Your son.” I looked over my shoulder. “The one I just met?”
“His twin, actually. Muninn. He is lost to me and I need him home. I fear for him if he does not return.”
[[Is he lost or did he run away?]]
[[What do you mean you fear for him?]]
[[How did you lose your son?]]Looking around the room, I noticed how it was designed for comfort. How each inch of it was warm and inviting, despite the stone walls. While my journey here had been less than desirable, the Baron before me was so far agreeable. He was the first to openly state that he actively wanted to help.
But, he was still a Baron. And if things were that easy, then I doubted we would be in this position in the first place.
“What’s the catch?” I asked him. Because of course there was going to be something he needed me to do in return. Something inane and meaningless in the end. Because weakness was shown if they did something for nothing.
The deep rumble of laughter that shook his chest was warm and nearly infectious. But I knew I had hit the mark with my question.
“I like you,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I really do. With that kind of gut thinking, you’ll do good in this world.”
Setting my ale to the side, I leaned forward, waiting to hear whatever my next task would be.
It took Odin a minute to settle down but when he did, it was with a gravity that doused the flames to a low roar.
“It is my son,” he said. “I need help.”
“Your son.” I looked over my shoulder. “The one I just met?”
“His twin, actually. Muninn. He is lost to me and I need him home. I fear for him if he does not return.”
[[Is he lost or did he run away?]]
[[What do you mean you fear for him?]]
[[How did you lose your son?]]Something about that didn’t sit right with me. It was doubtful that someone in a Baron’s position, who hailed from a land that called him Allfather, would simply just lose track of his child. “Is he lost?” I asked hesitantly. “Or did he run away.”
There was a bit of anger that was twisted at the corner of his good eye. When he nodded at me, it was tight and curt. “He ran,” Odin said.
“And you didn’t stop him?”
Odin sighed. “He is not of this world. Neither is Huginn. The two of them are a twin pair of ravens. They can form their consciousness into a humanoid being for the sake of others and to interact with the surrounding society, but the longer they stay that way, the more their magic takes hold. Are you familiar with the sciences?”
“A bit,” I said. Though I had no idea what sciences he was talking about.
“Take a bottle,” he said. “You fill it with a gaseous liquid. In this case, magic. When that liquid or magic gets shaken up, forming into new shapes and what not, a pressure builds. The longer that pressure builds within the bottle, the more likely it is that it will not be able to contain itself. Muninn has all this magic that is innately poured into his humanoid form and he is not using his magic to release any of the pressure. And as he continues to refuse his magic, and continues to refuse to change into his true form, the pressure builds and builds and builds until one day…” Odin widened his hands in mimicry of an explosion, a burst of flame appearing between them.
“Has he hurt others?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied gravely. “Many of them.” Sitting back in his chair, Odin sighed. “My son loves life. He loves it more than anything else in all the realms. Every little bit of the world around him, he finds fascinating and due to that, he is staying in his humanoid form. This will cause destruction. I want him home. I want him here, safe, where he can no longer put himself in danger.”
“Why did he run from you?”
“I was not kind the last time I saw him and raised my voice. Muninn was always the more sensitive of the two boys and I made a mistake that day. Since then, I have tried to find him to tell him how deeply sorry I am but he has evaded me. That is what happens when you end up being your father's spy, I suppose. I’m sure he knows my movements better than I know my own at this point.”
I looked at the Baron. Truly looked at him. There was sorrow there. A genuine concern for his child and I could see the regret settling in to each wrinkle upon his face. Something about Odin looked shameful as well and it was a reminder of how, even the strong and powerful, still had their faults.
[[What if he refuses to come home?]]
[[What if he does not want to change from his human form once he is here?]]
[[How do you plan to help him?]]“What do you mean you fear for him?” I asked as the turn of phrase. It seemed odd. Especially given the position of power this man held.
“Muninn is a, well, he is an eccentric boy,” Odin said delicately. “Was always a bit different from his brother and while he took his job seriously, he became a bit too lost in it. Caught up in his own magic, you could say.”
“Meaning?”
“He is sick,” Odin explained. “Very sick. And despite having the evidence in front of him, he does not seem to realize this and therefore does not take the precaution that he needs to. I wish to have him home for as much of his safety, as others.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
Odin sighed. “He is not of this world. Neither is Huginn. The two of them are a twin pair of ravens. They can form their consciousness into a humanoid being for the sake of others and to interact with the surrounding society, but the longer they stay that way, the more their magic takes hold. Are you familiar with the sciences?”
“A bit,” I said. Though I had no idea what sciences he was talking about.
“Take a bottle,” he said. “You fill it with a gaseous liquid. In this case, magic. When that liquid or magic gets shaken up, forming into new shapes and what not, a pressure builds. The longer that pressure builds within the bottle, the more likely it is that it will not be able to contain itself. Muninn has all this magic that is innately poured into his humanoid form and he is not using his magic to release any of the pressure. And as he continues to refuse his magic, and continues to refuse to change into his true form, the pressure builds and builds and builds until one day…” Odin widened his hands in mimicry of an explosion, a burst of flame appearing between them.
“Has he hurt others?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied gravely. “Many of them.” Sitting back in his chair, Odin sighed. “My son loves life. He loves it more than anything else in all the realms. Every little bit of the world around him, he finds fascinating and due to that, he is staying in his humanoid form. This will cause destruction. I want him home. I want him here, safe, where he can no longer put himself in danger.”
“Why did he run from you?”
“I was not kind the last time I saw him and raised my voice. Muninn was always the more sensitive of the two boys and I made a mistake that day. Since then, I have tried to find him to tell him how deeply sorry I am but he has evaded me. That is what happens when you end up being your father's spy, I suppose. I’m sure he knows my movements better than I know my own at this point.”
I looked at the Baron. Truly looked at him. There was sorrow there. A genuine concern for his child and I could see the regret settling in to each wrinkle upon his face. Something about Odin looked shameful as well and it was a reminder of how, even the strong and powerful, still had their faults.
[[What if he refuses to come home?]]
[[What if he does not want to change from his human form once he is here?]]
[[How do you plan to help him?]]“How do you lose a child?” I asked. “Was he taken from you?”
“No,” he said with a frown. “Nothing quite like that. Muninn left on his own terms but when he did, he made sure to cover his tracks. He is very much a boy who does not wish to be found and while he is a full-fledged adult, him not being home could cause quite the problem.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
Odin sighed. “He is not of this world. Neither is Huginn. The two of them are a twin pair of ravens. They can form their consciousness into a humanoid being for the sake of others and to interact with the surrounding society, but the longer they stay that way, the more their magic takes hold. Are you familiar with the sciences?”
“A bit,” I said. Though I had no idea what sciences he was talking about.
“Take a bottle,” he said. “You fill it with a gaseous liquid. In this case, magic. When that liquid or magic gets shaken up, forming into new shapes and what not, a pressure builds. The longer that pressure builds within the bottle, the more likely it is that it will not be able to contain itself. Muninn has all this magic that is innately poured into his humanoid form and he is not using his magic to release any of the pressure. And as he continues to refuse his magic, and continues to refuse to change into his true form, the pressure builds and builds and builds until one day…” Odin widened his hands in mimicry of an explosion, a burst of flame appearing between them.
“Has he hurt others?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied gravely. “Many of them.” Sitting back in his chair, Odin sighed. “My son loves life. He loves it more than anything else in all the realms. Every little bit of the world around him, he finds fascinating and due to that, he is staying in his humanoid form. This will cause destruction. I want him home. I want him here, safe, where he can no longer put himself in danger.”
“Why did he run from you?”
“I was not kind the last time I saw him and raised my voice. Muninn was always the more sensitive of the two boys and I made a mistake that day. Since then, I have tried to find him to tell him how deeply sorry I am but he has evaded me. That is what happens when you end up being your father's spy, I suppose. I’m sure he knows my movements better than I know my own at this point.”
I looked at the Baron. Truly looked at him. There was sorrow there. A genuine concern for his child and I could see the regret settling in to each wrinkle upon his face. Something about Odin looked shameful as well and it was a reminder of how, even the strong and powerful, still had their faults.
[[What if he refuses to come home?]]
[[What if he does not want to change from his human form once he is here?]]
[[How do you plan to help him?]]“And if he refuses to come home?” It sounded very much like that was exactly what this man was going to do once I found him and if he was anything like his brother, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to bring him home in the first place.
“You will have to force him, I’m afraid.” There was a gravity to his words. Odin knew that this would be no small task. “I would suggest bringing a member of the Velvet Guard with you. I hear you have connections with the Warden. It may be safer to have him by your side.”
“I don’t know if I can bring someone here against their will,” I admitted. “And I really don’t know if Warden Caine would agree to that.”
“If he were to have a burst of magic within the streets of the Night Market, not only could it destroy an entire district, but it could tear a hole within the Market veil itself. Which is what we are trying to avoid all together.”
It wasn't much of a choice. I was realizing that now. There was very little choice in front of me at all, in fact. If I wanted the Baron's favor, I had to do as he asked. And whoever this Muninn was, sounded as if they were a danger to our direct cause as it was.
“Do you have any lead on where he might be?” I asked, resigned to follow through with this task.
“Somewhere within the market,” Odin says. “Though, he does not go by Muninn here.”
“What does he go by?”
“Caliban.”
[[Next|Nine 5]]“What if he does not want to change from his human form?” I asked. If he was a purveyor of life, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do to convince him into a raven. Or how being here would be any different from being out there.
“I’m not asking you to change who he is,” Odin replied, “I am merely imploring you to bring him home to me. When he is here, if he decides not to change again, while I may not agree with it, at least he will be with the people he loves. And if something does go horribly wrong, we will be equipped to deal with it. If he were to have a burst of magic within the streets of the Night Market, not only could it destroy an entire district, but it could tear a hole within the Market veil itself. Which is what we are trying to avoid all together.”
It wasn't much of a choice. I was realizing that now. There was very little choice in front of me at all, in fact. If I wanted the Baron's favor, I had to do as he asked. And whoever this Muninn was, sounded as if they were a danger to our direct cause as it was.
“Do you have any lead on where he might be?” I asked, resigned to follow through with this task.
“Somewhere within the market,” Odin says. “Though, he does not go by Muninn here.”
“What does he go by?”
“Caliban.”
[[Next|Nine 5]]“If I manage to somehow get him here, what do you plan to do to help him?” It was imperative that I knew, for some reason. Whether it be because I wanted to make sure I was delivering this man into a safe environment, or I was concerned about what a dangerous being such as that meant for the Night Market in general. In the end, I didn’t know if it would matter, but I still needed to ask the question.
“I have not decided yet,” he admitted. “But it will be a family decision. Huginn and I will figure out how best to handle him. I just need him off the streets. For, if he were to have a burst of magic within the streets of the Night Market, not only could it destroy an entire district, but it could tear a hole within the Market veil itself. Which is what we are trying to avoid all together.”
It wasn't much of a choice. I was realizing that now. There was very little choice in front of me at all, in fact. If I wanted the Baron's favor, I had to do as he asked. And whoever this Muninn was, sounded as if they were a danger to our direct cause as it was.
“Do you have any lead on where he might be?” I asked, resigned to follow through with this task.
“Somewhere within the market,” Odin says. “Though, he does not go by Muninn here.”
“What does he go by?”
“Caliban.”
[[Next|Nine 5]]
White noise filled my head. I wasn’t sure how I got back out of the stone walls or who exactly escorted me. Huginn, I think. The other raven. Caliban’s brother.
I felt my chest squeeze in panic. There was a part of me that had rebelled against the idea. Odin was lying or perhaps there was another Caliban. But I knew there was not. I had seen the black feathers fall from his sleeves occasionally. He had talked about flying and the freedom of the sky. But he was running. Caliban was running from a nameless individual and was terrified of them catching up to him one day, and now, I couldn’t help but wonder if that person was in some part, me.
Leaning against the dirty alley walls I pressed a hand to my lips, feeling it tremble. Caliban. Muninn. It didn’t make sense. He was kind. But what was it he has said from the very beginning. No names because he didn’t want me to be used to find him? And yet, only days after meeting with him again, after sitting on that rooftop, that’s exactly what was happening.
Pressing my fingers to my eyes, I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to go alone. I knew I couldn’t.
[[Odin was right. I should bring Gabriel]]
[[Belladonna would know what to do. I would bring her]]
[[I wanted Milo by my side with this]]
[[Hazel. She would be the soft comfort we may need]]
<<set $ironbaron to "true">>Gabriel was the only logical choice to bring with me. I knew this. In a potentially volatile situation, the Warden of the market was better to be involved. I didn’t always agree with how he handled situations, but he was for more equipped to handle this than I was. When it came down to it, I wasn’t sure what my options even should be. There was a part of me that knew what had to be done. We had to gain Odin’s favor. But at what cost.
I found Gabriel at the bridge that led to his office as he was heading in from patrol. When he spotted me, he stopped, halfway across the white stone, his head tilted to the side in curiosity.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> I didn’t wait for him to approach me as I walked quickly across the stone path and straight into his arm. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping himself around me, the scent of his coat something warm and comforting as the wool of it scratched against my cheek.
“What happened?” His hand was on my back, soothingly running up and down my spine.
“I met with the next Baron,” I told him. “Odin. He took me right from in front of the apothecary.”
“He did what?” His voice was dark. Quickly turning into that cold hard steeled tone he used when he clearly disagreed with something. “They are not allowed to do that. There are channels. I will be setting up a formal complaint and…”
“Gabriel,” I interrupted. “He wants Caliban. In turn for his favor, he wants my friend.”
Gabriel went stiff. “So the old man finally is calling his raven home.” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, $name. Muninn is a sore spot with Baron Odin. It was only a matter of time before he made a move to get his bird back.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked.
Gabriel shook his head. “It’s a situation we shouldn’t be a part of, $name. Odin is a god of his world. Muninn is his spy and holds the memories of their people. It is within Odin’s right to call him back home.”
I stared at him. There was no remorse on his face as he gently told me of the situation. As if it made the most logical sense. It didn’t sit right with me, however. It made my gut clench and my hands tremble. Because even if it was within Odin’s right or what not, I still couldn’t shake the image of that scar, burned firmly into Caliban’s neck.
Closing my eyes, I swallowed thickly. “Will you come with me? I don’t need you to- I just need someone with me for this.”
Pressing his lips to the crown of my head, he nodded. “You never have to ask for me to be at your side.” <<elseif $gabrielro == "false">> I walked across the bridge towards him, stopping only a foot away. He looked at me in confusion, head tilted to the side. “$name, I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything alright?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I met with the next Baron,” I told him. “Odin. He took me from in front of the apothecary.”
“He did what?” His voice was dark and quickly turning into that cold hard steel that he used he clearly disagreed with something. “They are not allowed to do that. There are channels. I will be setting up a formal complaint and…”
“Gabriel,” I interrupted. “He wants Caliban. In turn for his favor, he wants my friend.”
Gabriel went stiff. “So the old man finally is calling his raven home.” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, $name. Muninn is a sore spot with Baron Odin. It was only a matter of time before he made a move to get his bird back.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked.
Gabriel shook his head. “It’s a situation we shouldn’t be a part of, $name. Odin is a god of his world. Muninn is his spy and holds the memories of their people. It is within Odin’s right to call him back home.”
I stared at him. There was no remorse on his face as he told me of the situation. As if it made the most logical sense. It didn’t sit right with me, however. It made my gut clench and my hands tremble. Because even if it was within Odin’s right or what not, I still couldn’t shake the image of that scar, burned firmly into Caliban’s neck.
Closing my eyes, I swallowed thickly. “Will you come with me? I don’t need you to- I just need someone with me for this.”
“Of course,” he said without hesitation. “We can go now.” <</if>>
[[Next|To Caliban’s]]
<<set $gabrielodin to "true">>Blindly, I made my way towards the Pleasure District. It was with a sickening realization that I didn’t even know if that’s where Belladonna lived or if she was just so present there that it looked like her place of residence. But it was the only place I could think of to go and find her and I knew, I probably needed her more than anyone else. Belladonna was cool and collected and would know what to do here. Aside from the fact that she seemed to have a beat on the Barons, I trusted her opinion. Especially when it came to something a bit more morally ambiguous.
I didn’t have to actually enter the district to find her. Instead, I found Belladonna walking arm in arm with a client. A woman who was quite a bit taller than her and who was looking at her with absolute adoration. When I came down the alley, I paused. Belladonna, like usual, was unfazed.
<<if $belladonnaro == "false">> “$name, is Hazel uping your pay?” <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> “Little muse, is Hazel upping your pay? I do dearly hope so at this point. A raise should be negotiated every six months at least.<</if>>
I had nothing in response to her words as I stopped, standing in the middle of the alleyway. It would be impossible for them to pass. “I met with Odin.”
Belladonna’s face went placid. There was a small flare in her eyes that was quickly doused. Turning, she looked at the woman, someone who clearly didn’t know what was going on. “Leave,” she said simply. To my surprise, the woman didn’t even hesitate. She turned on her heel and headed back towards the Pleasure District. I could see the telling signs of a bite on her neck.
“Refrain from saying his name too loud,” Belladonna said, stepping to my side and gesturing for me to continue walking. The guise of a normal evening stroll. I realized now she was making sure no one could look at us with any sort of suspicion. “He is well liked by the manly men of the market but anyone with half a brain cell does realize how dangerous he is.”
Rounding the corner we made our way down a few alleys I hadn’t been to before. Belladonna turning easily at each juncture. When we came to stand in a darkened portion of the market, she turned to me. “What did he request of you?”
“His raven,” I said. “Caliban. The man that was in the cell across from me.”
She nodded. I didn’t know if she knew who he was or what it initially meant to me, but she looked contemplative all the same. Piecing together a puzzle that wasn’t quite fitting together right these last few months.
“Alright,” she said slowly. “Are you wishing to turn him over or no?”
“No. Of course not. I – I don’t know.” Her expression did not change. If Caliban was the danger that Odin claimed him to be, could I really let him continue within the market? “I have to go see him. Could you come with me.”
“Dear heart, I have things I should be doing right now,” she said. When I continued to stare at her, matching her gaze, I saw something in her expression twitch. Rolling her eyes she crossed her arms in front of her, flipping her hair behind one shoulder. “Fine.” I was surprised at how quickly she had caved. And I couldn’t help but notice the flush on her cheeks and chest.
“You just fed, didn’t you.”
“No one else was around to scratch that itch and I do have needs, dear.” Walking past me, she headed back out of the alley. “We are picking Gabriel up along the way, however. There is only one Baron situation he should stay entirely out of and it is not this one.”
I watched her retreating form. “What does that mean?” When she didn’t answer me, I knew it was something she hand’t mean to say. “Belladonna, what does that mean.”
“Come along, dear heart. I do not have all eve.”
[[Next|To Caliban’s]]
<<set $belladonnaodin to "true">>Walking towards Milo’s distillery, I felt my head ache. The lanterns above were far too bright and my heart pounded against my chest. Turning, I shoved myself through the small opening that led to the big steel door of Milo’s place of residence. <<if $ever == "true">> Ever was not at the end of the alley, having either gone back to the Inbetween or was too weak to present herself. I had to just hope Milo was home now. That enough time had passed when I had first tried to see him that he had made his way back. I made sure to place a shiny rock where she sat though, letting her know that I had stopped by.<</if>>
Pounding on the door, I waited anxiously, part of me wondering if I should just let myself in. Milo seemed like the kind of person who absolutely did not lock his door. When I heard the sound of footsteps clanging against metal steps, I felt a small bit of relief wash over me. Milo rolled back the door, not looking surprised to see me. His brow did furrow however at the distress on my face.
“That’s not good,” he said, stepping aside to let me in.
I shook my head. “I need you to come with me,” I told him.
“Okay,” he said slowly.
“The Baron has put in his request. I need to go retrieve his raven.”
There was no surprise or confusion on Milo’s face. In fact, he looked fairly calm for what I had just said.
<<if $ever == "true">>Pausing, I stared at him. “Where were you this morning? I came by but you weren’t here.”
“I had an errand to run.”<</if>> Stepping outside, he shut the door behind him. I saw him glance towards the crates and barrels situated by his door before turning his gaze back towards me. Taking one of his keys off his belt, he locked his front door. “Who is this raven?” he asked.
“His name is Caliban. He was in the cell next to me when I first arrived.”
“And are we taking him back to Odin?”
I frowned. “How did you know it was Odin?”
He shrugged. “Everyone knows of Odin and his twin ravens. Didn’t realize one was missing though.”
He waited for me to fall in step beside him as we began walking out of the alley. I felt a certain amount of nervous energy course through me at the thought of what we were about to do. Not that I really knew what we were about to do. It didn’t matter though. My stomach felt cramped at the very thought of it all.
“You alright?” Milo asked slowly.
I didn’t know how to answer him. I didn’t know if there really would be an answer. Not until after this was resolved. Because while we needed the Baron’s favor, Caliban was my friend. One of the only people I truly counted as my friend. I didn’t know if I could do what this Baron was asking of me.
“We need to go get Gabriel,” I said softly. “I think we’ll need to bring the Warden with us.”
“Good old, Gabe.” Milo took his cigarette out and put it between his lips. I noticed him pull a lighter from his pocket and flick the flame to life. But he did not light it. “Yeah, let's go get him. I’m sure he’d want us informing him of Baron things anyway.”
I nodded. As we stepped out into the main streets, I felt my mind fly this way and that. Felt it spiral outwards before sucking in, bringing with it bits of dirt and dust and cluttering my thoughts with more debris than I thought I could handle.
“I went to do your delivery this morning,” I told him. “To Tallard.”
Milo frowned. “Tallard?”
“The one who lives at the edge of town. By the peach tree.”
Milo stumbled over his own feet. His face was pale and his eyes filled with genuine fear. I stopped, staring at him. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said. “Fine. I– sorry. I forgot about him. I should have done the delivery myself. Sorry. You won’t have to do it again.”
There was something about his words that felt off but we didn’t have time. Silently though, I logged it away as something to remember for after this was all over.
[[He acted like he knew you well]]
[[Why do you look scared of him?]]
[[He was pleasant. I fixed him tea and listened to his stories]]
<<set $miloodin to "true">>I burst through the apothecary doors to find Hazel behind the counter, humming to herself. Billows was winding about the hearth, looking for the perfect spot to lay while Hazel finished her last bits of cleaning before the end of the day.
“How did the order go?” she asked, looking at me with concern. “I thought you would be home hours ago.”
I had nearly forgotten about the order out into the middle of the market. It seemed like so long ago given what I had learned. “One of the Barons requested my presence,” I explained to her. “I had no choice but to follow. Mainly because he kidnapped me.”
“What?” Immediately she was around the counter, her eyes drifting across me to check for injury.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Hands running across my arms and back, she looked me over. “I’m okay,” I told her softly, cupping her cheek. There was a hardness to her eyes that told me clearly she would decide if I was okay or not and that was only going to be after she had given me a thorough once over.<</if>>
“What happened?” she asked.
“The Iron Baron. Odin? He had one of his ravens come and collect me. He said he will give us his favor. But in return, I need to return his son. Caliban.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “Isn’t he the one who was with you in the cells? You just saw him a few days ago in the Renaissance District, correct?” I nodded. “Oh, $name. I am so sorry.” She sighed, looking around the shop. “We’ll figure out another way to gain the Baron's favor. I’m sure there is another way to negotiate with him.”
I felt my heart flutter. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, Hazel.”
“What?”
“I don’t-” I closed my eyes tightly. “We need as many favors as we can get, Hazel. I–”
“Didn’t you say he was abused?” she asked. “You can’t give him back to Odin.”
There were a few things that were warring against me in this situation. If Caliban truly was as dangerous as Odin said then he couldn’t just continue to walk through the market unchecked. But, to just give him back to Odin without a thought? That didn’t seem right either. I knew that if the world was not ripping apart, if I felt like we had more time, I would look for another option. But, the clock was ticking and we needed Odin’s favor if we were going to proceed.
“We don’t know it was Odin who did any of that to him.” My head hurt. It pounded with decision and the way that Hazel was now staring at me was making it worse.
“$name, if he is, you can’t…”
“I know,” I said, feeling my heart pound against my chest. “I– will you come with me? We’ll bring Gabriel. I don’t think we should walk into this situation without the Velvet Guard involved and honestly the only person in the Velvet Guard I trust is him.”
“I don’t think I can be a part of that,” she said softly. "Please don't ask me to go with you."
[[Gabriel and I can handle this without her]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Can't you make a construct?]]
[[Hazel, I need you]]<</if>>“I’m not asking you to make a decision, Hazel. I’ll do all that but…” I stared at her. “Please.”
Hazel looked undecided. Leaving the shop had never been something she did well with but, I needed her. If only because she would be the voice of reason if things went to far. Looking down, she nodded at me, clearly not liking this. But she shut off the lights of the apothecary all the same, closing up the shop and opening the door for me.
“Please think before you do anything rash,” she whispered as I walked out the door.
I looked at her over my shoulder. “I promise.”
[[Next|To Caliban’s]]
<<set $hazelodin to "true">>I paused. She was staring at me so pleadingly. I knew then that I couldn't let her come with me. It wasn't the right place for her. No matter what the outcome of this moment would be, Hazel never needed to be the one who decided a mans fate.
"No, you're right," I told her, closing my eyes and taking a moment to pause. "You're right. I don't know why I asked."
Immediatley, she looked relieved.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>"Just, are you going to be around tonight? After this is all done?"
Her eyes softened and without hesitation, she came to my side. "I will be here, waiting for you," she said. "I promise."
I nodded, feeling my gut twist. It offered me a small bit of comfort that she was going to be by my side tonight.<</if>>
"I'll get Gabriel and then head over there," I said softly. Having the Warden by my side was the best protection I could probably gain.
"$name," Hazel said. "Just-- try to remember, there is always another path. We can find another favor."
I grabbed at her words and held them close, keeping them with me in the upcoming hours.
[[Next|To Caliban’s]]
<<set $hazelodin to "false">>I stood outside the abandoned building, staring up at it. The fabric from the top tiered window flapped in the wind, a small golden glow pouring out of the open expanse.
“He is up there?” Gabriel asked. I nodded solemnly, willing my feet to just move already.
<<if $hazelodin == "true">> Hazel stood by my side, looking like she wished to be anywhere but here. Nervously, she was looking up at the open window above, her arms wrapped around her waist. “We don’t have to do this,” she said softly.
“We still don’t know what we’re going to do,” I said. <<elseif $miloodin == "true">>Milo stood by my side, squinting up at the open window above. “Huh. Little on the nose, don’t you think? Living up in a perch. Think he considers it a nest?”
I sighed heavily. “Not now, Milo.” He raised his hands up in submission, zipping his mouth shut. <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">>Belladonna stood by my side, looking upwards with a bored expression. When we had picked up Gabriel, he had seemed shocked that she was there. She looked out of place in the Renaissance District in her black lace evening gown.
“I would advise you to make a decision before you get up there, $name.”
Gabriel frowned. “I thought we were apprehending him to bring back to the Baron.”
Belladonna’s eyes dragged across me. I knew they were both waiting for my answer but I just couldn’t give it. Not yet.<</if>>
Caliban. Or Muninn, I guess. This was the place I knew to look for him. An abandoned building at the edge of the Renaissance District. What he had called the Roost. Dread twisted in my stomach as I stared at his home. Part of me hoped he wasn’t inside. That he was somewhere else within the market, having a grand adventure and telling a story or two to someone that sorely needed it.
“What’s the plan?” Gabriel asked. He had sworn to follow my lead on this. It was the only way I could think to have the Velvet Guard involved. But I knew if I gave him the go ahead, he would arrest Caliban in an instant. Forever pledging his allegiance to the rule makers of the society. The Baron of the Iron District wouldn’t be any different.
Shaking my head, I let my eyes fall. “I really don’t know.”
We needed Odin’s favor. We were so close to collecting the components to unveiling the Gatekeeper’s name and failure was balanced on the precipice of an upcoming cliff. With all the Baron's favors in our reach, there was a real possibility that this may be ending soon. We would be able to put a stop to the tears that were littering the market itself. To be able to completely thwart the shattering of existence. The Gatekeeper was key to all of that. I could feel it now in my gut. Revealing the name of whoever they might be was within our grasp and with it, rest. I didn’t know why in the end I was banking so much on that situation or why I was putting so much stock for this absent individual to fix what was around us. But the world felt as if it was spiraling so quickly and efficiently that I didn’t have much of a choice. It was the only thing I could focus on with some amount of control.
But Caliban…
I thought of our rooftop conversation. The scars I had seen across his neck. He spoke then of a job. He also spoke of running from someone. There had been such genuine terror there that I had reached out and taken his hand.
And now I was supposed to go up there and escort him home. Back to a place where he was clearly electing not to be. Was that the right thing to do? If his own family was here within the Night market, why had he not have sought them out? Why had he not asked them for help? And was he truly as sick as Odin had made him out to be?
“$name?” Gabriel called to me softly. Shaking the thoughts from my head, I did not answer him. Instead, I walked towards the broken front door and made my way to the lift that would take me up to the top. I didn’t look behind me to see if I was being followed.
[[Next|Chapter Nine next]]
We rode the lift in silence, the shadows of the grate passing my face in steady drifts of light. <<if $hazelodin == "true">> Hazel shifted uncomfortably beside me. I could already see the tears in her eyes as I watched the way she wrung her fingers through the folds of her skirts.<<elseif $miloodin == "true">> Milo stood with his hands in his pockets, cigarette perched between his lips. He hadn’t said much on the way over, and the diffused light passing through the grate highlighted the deep circles beneath his eyes. <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> Belladonna stood at the back of the lift, leaning against the wall. I wondered if she would even get out of the lift when it stopped. I wondered as well why she was even here to begin with. I hadn’t expected such empathy or care.<</if>>When the cart came to a stop at the top of the rise, it shuddered. My head was tilted downwards, eyes trained upon the tops of my shoes. They were still stained from the Deep.
Pulling open the metal grate, I stepped out into the cluttered room. Not much had changed. Boxes were still piled high, an old pile of discarded toys was collecting dust to my left, and in the distance, silhouetted by a stolen amber lantern, stood Caliban.
He had a coat on, one that was overly large and furred at the collar. He was rummaging through the contents of an old box, made up of what looked like memories. Small trinkets that didn’t make sense but would occasionally bring a smile to his face. When he turned at the scraping sound of metal, I could see the confusion and momentary fear on his face. He broke into a wide grin, however, as he spotted me.
“$name!” He dropped what he was holding and bounded to my side. Without hesitation, he picked me up and twirled me. “I’ve had the best day. There was an entire parade down at the jousting fields. Little hobbes tunneled up from the ground and instead of recognizing their mistake, they made a show of it. Have you ever seen goblins march all in a row with batons? Because if you haven’t, we will need to rewind time and show you almost immediately and oh hey, Gabe! How’s Reese doing? I was just headed to see him.” He peered up over my shoulder, his lanky body unfolding at the sight of Gabriel. He didn’t look concerned, however. If anything, he looked delighted for the extra company.
Gabriel didn’t say anything. As per my request, he kept his head down and stayed back, hands clasped in front of him.
Caliban’s smile faltered at that. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Someone die?”
[[(Gently) I met with the Baron of the Iron District today]]
[[(Firmly) I met with the Baron of the Iron District today]]
[[Look towards Gabriel. You have changed your mind and cannot do this alone]]Swallowing thickly, I looked up at him. There was no part of me that was ready for this conversation. Caliban had been a friend to me in my time of need. I wanted to help him. Not cause him more fear.
“I saw the Baron of the Iron District today,” I said softly. “Caliban. He has requested that you come home.”
Caliban stared at me, the color draining from his face until a breath of hysterical laughter escaped him. Hands falling from mine, he stepped away from me, eyes wild as they searched my own, as if I were suddenly the enemy.
“Right,” he whispered, voice cracked through with terror. “Of course. That’s the exchange, isn’t it? Me for his favor? Me for the market?” He smiled wildly before it shattered apart and tears filled his eyes. “I’m not going with you. You know that right? I will not return to him.”
“Caliban…” I stepped forward and he backed away, stumbling over a box and tripping. Scrambling, he put several piles of his things between us.
“No,” he said firmly. “No. I’m not.” Face crumpling, he looked between Gabriel and I. “Gabriel. You can’t– are you going to–? Reese wouldn’t allow this. You know that right? If he knew what you were doing…”
Gabriel did not speak. Though at the sound of Reese’s name, he did look away.
[[I can’t just tell a Baron no, Caliban]]
[[Caliban, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do]]
[[We just want to talk]]It felt like a band-aid on a festering wound. Something I would have to tear off and get over with before moving forward.
“I met with Odin today,” I told him, chin held high. “He wants you home.”
Caliban stared at me, the color draining from his face until a breath of hysterical laughter escaped him. Hands falling from mine, he stepped away from me, eyes wild as they searched my own, as if I were suddenly the enemy.
“Right,” he whispered, voice cracked through with terror. “Of course. That’s the exchange, isn’t it? Me for his favor? Me for the market?” He smiled wildly before it shattered apart and tears filled his eyes. “I’m not going with you. You know that right? I will not return to him.”
“Caliban…” I stepped forward and he backed away, stumbling over a box and tripping. Scrambling, he put several piles of his things between us.
“No,” he said firmly. “No. I’m not.” Face crumpling, he looked between Gabriel and I. “Gabriel. You can’t– are you going to–? Reese wouldn’t allow this. You know that right? If he knew what you were doing…”
Gabriel did not speak. Though at the sound of Reese’s name, he did look away.
[[I can’t just tell a Baron no, Caliban]]
[[Caliban, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do]]
[[We just want to talk]]Suddenly, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tear apart the hope that was in his eyes or the way he still vibrated from the day's activities. I couldn’t douse the trust that he had cultivated with me during those rooftop conversations. And while I knew I needed talk with him and be honest, I couldn’t get the words out past my choked throat.
“Gabriel,” I implored brokenly. Turning to him, I locked eyes with his own. He was the Warden of the Night Market. Maybe it was better if he handled this instead “I can’t,” I whispered.
Nodding, Gabriel stepped forward. “$name had a meeting with the Baron of the Iron District today,” he said, matter of fact. “In order to gain his favor he does require you to return home. We are here to collect you for him.”
Caliban stared at me, the color draining from his face until a breath of hysterical laughter escaped him. Hands falling from mine, he stepped away from me, eyes wild as they searched my own, as if I were suddenly the enemy.
“Right,” he whispered, voice cracked through with terror. “Of course. That’s the exchange, isn’t it? Me for his favor? Me for the market?” He smiled wildly before it shattered apart and tears filled his eyes. “I’m not going with you. You know that right? I will not return to him.”
“Caliban…” I stepped forward and he backed away, stumbling over a box and tripping. Scrambling, he put several piles of his things between us.
“No,” he said firmly. “No. I’m not.” Face crumpling, he looked between Gabriel and I. “Gabriel. You can’t– are you going to–? Reese wouldn’t allow this. You know that right? If he knew what you were doing…”
Gabriel did not speak. Though at the sound of Reese’s name, he did look away.
[[I can’t just tell a Baron no, Caliban]]
[[Caliban, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do]]
[[We just want to talk]]“I can’t just tell a Baron no, Caliban,” I tried to reason. Especially when this Baron held in his possession one of the very things we needed to save the market. I felt stuck. Not sure if the option to disobey was even a choice we had.
“You can,” he cried out. “The fact that you think you can’t is what he is banking on.”
My stomach rolled with poison. Desperation haunted him. Black feathers ruffled up over his hands, blooming across his knuckles before drifting to the ground like ashen snow.
A bottle, ready to burst.
“I need you to stay calm,” I told him, glancing down at where the hints of a raven curled against his skin.
“Stay calm? Stay calm. You want me to stay calm when you…” he shook his head, his laughter high-pitched and hysterical. “Sure, I’ll stay calm. Walk back there with you like the good little solider I am. Odin’s raven. Memory of all of Asgard. Destined to fly across the nine realms day in and day out and be beaten when he doesn’t return home for dinner.” Unconsciously, his hand went up to his neck, tracing across the thin line that I knew had bound him once a long time ago.
[[Was he the one who tethered you?]]
[[You said you weren’t a slave]]
[[I don’t think Odin wishes to hurt you]]Shaking my head, I felt my heart flop in my chest. “Caliban, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
“You tell him no!” he shouted at me. “You choose me over the damn market.”
My stomach rolled with poison. Desperation haunted him. Black feathers ruffled up over his hands, blooming across his knuckles before drifting to the ground like ashen snow.
A bottle, ready to burst.
“I need you to stay calm,” I told him, glancing down at where the hints of a raven curled against his skin.
“Stay calm? Stay calm. You want me to stay calm when you…” he shook his head, his laughter high-pitched and hysterical. “Sure, I’ll stay calm. Walk back there with you like the good little solider I am. Odin’s raven. Memory of all of Asgard. Destined to fly across the nine realms day in and day out and be beaten when he doesn’t return home for dinner.” Unconsciously, his hand went up to his neck, tracing across the thin line that I knew had bound him once a long time ago.
[[Was he the one who tethered you?]]
[[You said you weren’t a slave]]
[[I don’t think Odin wishes to hurt you]]“Nothing is happening right now,” I told Caliban, trying to keep my voice smooth. “I have not made any sort of decision. I just want to talk.” There were things that were said that I needed to know the truth of. There was not a single ounce of me that wanted to return Caliban to a man that would hurt him, but I also could not just dismiss what the consequences of something like that would be.
“Talk?” he laughed incredulously. “You came here with the Warden! You’re not interested in talking. You’re interested in what everyone else is. You don’t believe me. You only believe //him//.”
My stomach rolled with poison. Desperation haunted him. Black feathers ruffled up over his hands, blooming across his knuckles before drifting to the ground like ashen snow.
A bottle, ready to burst.
“I need you to stay calm,” I told him, glancing down at where the hints of a raven curled against his skin.
“Stay calm? Stay calm. You want me to stay calm when you…” he shook his head, his laughter high-pitched and hysterical. “Sure, I’ll stay calm. Walk back there with you like the good little solider I am. Odin’s raven. Memory of all of Asgard. Destined to fly across the nine realms day in and day out and be beaten when he doesn’t return home for dinner.” Unconsciously, his hand went up to his neck, tracing across the thin line that I knew had bound him once a long time ago.
[[Was he the one who tethered you?]]
[[You said you weren’t a slave]]
[[I don’t think Odin wishes to hurt you]]“Was he the one who tethered you?” I asked suddenly.
Caliban looked away in shame, fingers twitching manically against his thighs, bouncing out a rhythm meant to keep him calm. But he nodded all the same.
Turning, I began to pace. The father who missed his son and who simply wanted him home for his own protection, vs the man who had tied Caliban up and kept him in a chokehold, making him feel less than he clearly was. I wasn’t sure which version of the god was real.
“Caliban, are you truly Muninn? Is Odin telling the truth? Are you actually a raven?” The black feathers were more than enough confirmation but I wanted to hear the words from him. “Are you sick?” I asked finally. His body was shaking, his breaths coming in ragged, huffed pants.
“What?” he looked at me, eyes still wild and frantic. “No. No. I’m not sick. I- I just want to- what did he say?”
“That you aren’t supposed to be human,” I told him, “and if you exist within this form for too long, accidents happen. You could hurt yourself and a lot of other people.” When he didn’t refute it, I felt my heart drop. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
He took several steps back.
“Caliban, tell me I’m wrong,” I demanded. The window was open behind him. He could flee. With only a few more steps he could jump from the building and run once more. Disappear into the market like he had said he wanted to do. I didn’t know if I had it in me to stop him. I didn’t know if he would make it and if the end result would be a broken body on the cobbled streets below. From what I could see of him now, it was a fate he would much rather have.
A silver light glowed behind me as Gabriel stepped forward. <<if $hazelodin == "true">> “Gabriel, don’t. Please,” Hazel whispered to him. But even her tender heart could not break the mask of the Warden. <<elseif $miloodin == "true">> “Careful, Gabe. That’s not a weak creature you got on your hands.” <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> “Let $name handle it, Gabriel. This is not your decision to make. ?They will need to do this one on their own.” But like usual, Gabriel rarely listened to Belladonna<</if>>
“Son, I’m going to need you to answer and stop moving,” he said firmly.
“Or what?” Caliban asked, eyes snapping to the Warden’s. “You’ll use that on me?” It was Gabriel’s sword, shining with his own power. I knew that all Gabriel had to do was walk up to him and the magic stains of manacles would bind across Caliban’s hands, tying him up once again.
[[Gabriel, do it]]
[[Gabriel, don’t]]“You said you weren’t a slave,” I told him, recalling our conversation from the rooftop. “You were the one who said that you weren’t there against your will. That you could have left at any point in time.”
He flinched as if he’d been struck, his own words coming back to him. When he turned his face from me, the light of the lanterns danced across his wet cheeks.
“Did you lie?”
“I–” he shuddered, fear causing his hand to tremble. The words were lost and he could not push them through. Because if he did, he may have had to admit something he had been running far from for so very long.
Turning, I began to pace. The father who missed his son and who simply wanted him home for his own protection, vs the man who had tied Caliban up and kept him in a chokehold, making him feel less than he clearly was. I wasn’t sure which version of the god was real.
“Caliban, are you truly Muninn? Is Odin telling the truth? Are you actually a raven?” The black feathers were more than enough confirmation but I wanted to hear the words from him. “Are you sick?” I asked finally. His body was shaking, his breaths coming in ragged, huffed pants.
“What?” he looked at me, eyes still wild and frantic. “No. No. I’m not sick. I- I just want to- what did he say?”
“That you aren’t supposed to be human,” I told him, “and if you exist within this form for too long, accidents happen. You could hurt yourself and a lot of other people.” When he didn’t refute it, I felt my heart drop. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
He took several steps back.
“Caliban, tell me I’m wrong,” I demanded. The window was open behind him. He could flee. With only a few more steps he could jump from the building and run once more. Disappear into the market like he had said he wanted to do. I didn’t know if I had it in me to stop him. I didn’t know if he would make it and if the end result would be a broken body on the cobbled streets below. From what I could see of him now, it was a fate he would much rather have.
A silver light glowed behind me as Gabriel stepped forward. <<if $hazelodin == "true">> “Gabriel, don’t. Please,” Hazel whispered to him. But even her tender heart could not break the mask of the Warden. <<elseif $miloodin == "true">> “Careful, Gabe. That’s not a weak creature you got on your hands.” <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> “Let $name handle it, Gabriel. This is not your decision to make. ?They will need to do this one on their own.” But like usual, Gabriel rarely listened to Belladonna<</if>>
“Son, I’m going to need you to answer and stop moving,” he said firmly.
“Or what?” Caliban asked, eyes snapping to the Warden’s. “You’ll use that on me?” It was Gabriel’s sword, shining with his own power. I knew that all Gabriel had to do was walk up to him and the magic stains of manacles would bind across Caliban’s hands, tying him up once again.
[[Gabriel, do it]]
[[Gabriel, don’t]]“Caliban,” I tried desperately. “I don’t think Odin wishes to hurt you. I talked to him for a good while and he is concerned. He just wishes to have you home so he can take care of you.”
The words did nothing to calm him as he cowered from me at that, his hands trembling in fear as he mumbled something to himself, tears wetting his cheeks. He couldn’t even look at me. Despite what Odin had said, I could see the way he balked at the suggestion of that man and it caused a very real seed of doubt to bloom in my stomach.
Turning, I began to pace. The father who missed his son and who simply wanted him home for his own protection, vs the man who had tied Caliban up and kept him in a chokehold, making him feel less than he clearly was. I wasn’t sure which version of the god was real.
“Caliban, are you truly Muninn? Is Odin telling the truth? Are you actually a raven?” The black feathers were more than enough confirmation but I wanted to hear the words from him. “Are you sick?” I asked finally. His body was shaking, his breaths coming in ragged, huffed pants.
“What?” he looked at me, eyes still wild and frantic. “No. No. I’m not sick. I- I just want to- what did he say?”
“That you aren’t supposed to be human,” I told him, “and if you exist within this form for too long, accidents happen. You could hurt yourself and a lot of other people.” When he didn’t refute it, I felt my heart drop. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
He took several steps back.
“Caliban, tell me I’m wrong,” I demanded. The window was open behind him. He could flee. With only a few more steps he could jump from the building and run once more. Disappear into the market like he had said he wanted to do. I didn’t know if I had it in me to stop him. I didn’t know if he would make it and if the end result would be a broken body on the cobbled streets below. From what I could see of him now, it was a fate he would much rather have.
A silver light glowed behind me as Gabriel stepped forward. <<if $hazelodin == "true">> “Gabriel, don’t. Please,” Hazel whispered to him. But even her tender heart could not break the mask of the Warden. <<elseif $miloodin == "true">> “Careful, Gabe. That’s not a weak creature you got on your hands.” <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> “Let $name handle it, Gabriel. This is not your decision to make. ?They will need to do this one on their own.” But like usual, Gabriel rarely listened to Belladonna<</if>>
“Son, I’m going to need you to answer and stop moving,” he said firmly.
“Or what?” Caliban asked, eyes snapping to the Warden’s. “You’ll use that on me?” It was Gabriel’s sword, shining with his own power. I knew that all Gabriel had to do was walk up to him and the magic stains of manacles would bind across Caliban’s hands, tying him up once again.
[[Gabriel, do it]]
[[Gabriel, don’t]]
Closing my eyes, I felt something inside me break at what I was about to say. “Gabriel, do it,” I whispered. I heard the commotion as Gabriel stepped forward to tether the man, staining his skin as black as the feathers that should have been there. But instead of the searing high-pitched ring of Gabriel’s magic sounding through the room, something else echoed around us instead.
It smelled of burnt incense and crackled like lightning. When I opened my eyes, Gabriel was frozen where he was, and Caliban was breathing heavily.
When Caliban turned to me, he shook his head, desperate for me to understand. “I’m not sick,” he implored. “I’m not. I mean, I’m not human but I can control my magic. I can. I won’t be a danger to society. If I feel it getting really bad I’ll just leave, okay? I’ll go somewhere else and I won’t hurt anyone. I won’t, $name. I swear.”
But he could. The threat was there. If he lost control of himself, even for a moment, he could destroy everything we were working towards. A hole in the market the size of which we would not recover from. His hands glowed with black and gold magic, a soft feathering of it brushing across my skin in clear threat. When he looked down, spotting it, he shoved his hands out of view.
But I had seen it. We both knew I had. I felt the little hope that I had held that this wasn’t real, shatter.
“No,” he said brokenly at the look on my face. “No no no no. Please. Please I can’t go back there. I can’t be tethered again. I’m not harming anyone out here, $name. I made a few mistakes, but that’s all they were. Mistakes. Please.” A tear slipped from his eye. “Please don’t send me back to him. I don’t want to go home.”
I stared at him, feeling my own fear roll through me, Gabriel at my back. “I don’t know what other option I have,” I told him brokenly. If I let him go, would that mean the world itself would not last the rest of the year? If I failed to get this favor, were we sealing our fate?
His eyes darted left and then right, a manic sort of energy contorting within him. “I- I could just leave.”
“And go where?”
“Does it matter?” he asked shakily. “I won’t be here. I won’t be in the Night Market. I could go somewhere else. Somewhere where magic doesn’t exist and I could start over. Please, $name. Give me that chance. I’m begging you.”
If I let him go, I would not get the Baron's favor. What we were working towards would fail. But if I let him stay, I was effectively giving him back to the man that had abused him. I was telling him that his pain meant less when in comparison to everyone else’s.
Looking at him, I swallowed thickly.
[[Take him back to Odin]]
[[Let him leave]]
“Gabriel, don’t,” I said quickly. I didn’t dare take my eyes off Caliban, certain that if I did, he would be gone. But I wasn’t about to let Gabriel tether this man again. Stain his skin the dark grayish stains from a Fallen. I didn’t want to chain Caliban any more than he already had been.
When Caliban turned to me, he shook his head, desperate for me to understand. “I’m not sick,” he implored. “I’m not. I mean, I’m not human but I can control my magic. I can. I won’t be a danger to society. If I feel it getting really bad I’ll just leave, okay? I’ll go somewhere else and I won’t hurt anyone. I won’t, $name. I swear.”
But he could. The threat was there. If he lost control of himself, even for a moment, he could destroy everything we were working towards. A hole in the market the size of which we would not recover from. His hands glowed with black and gold magic, a soft feathering of it brushing across my skin in clear threat. When he looked down, spotting it, he shoved his hands out of view.
But I had seen it. We both knew I had. I felt the little hope that I had held that this wasn’t real, shatter.
“No,” he said brokenly at the look on my face. “No no no no. Please. Please I can’t go back there. I can’t be tethered again. I’m not harming anyone out here, $name. I made a few mistakes, but that’s all they were. Mistakes. Please.” A tear slipped from his eye. “Please don’t send me back to him. I don’t want to go home.”
I stared at him, feeling my own fear roll through me, Gabriel at my back. “I don’t know what other option I have,” I told him brokenly. If I let him go, would that mean the world itself would not last the rest of the year? If I failed to get this favor, were we sealing our fate?
His eyes darted left and then right, a manic sort of energy contorting within him. “I- I could just leave.”
“And go where?”
“Does it matter?” he asked shakily. “I won’t be here. I won’t be in the Night Market. I could go somewhere else. Somewhere where magic doesn’t exist and I could start over. Please, $name. Give me that chance. I’m begging you.”
If I let him go, I would not get the Baron's favor. What we were working towards would fail. But if I let him stay, I was effectively giving him back to the man that had abused him. I was telling him that his pain meant less when in comparison to everyone else’s.
Looking at him, I swallowed thickly.
[[Take him back to Odin]]
[[Let him leave]]
The man before me had represented comfort for so long. He was a soft reminder that the world was not so cruel when I first entered the Night Market. A voice in the literal dark. That I couldn’t be that for him sat heavily against my chest. But we needed the Baron's favor. As much as it hurt, I could not value his life, over the lives of everyone in this market.
“I’m so sorry,” I told him quietly. “I just can’t.”
The burst of magic that shot from him knocked me back. It was so sudden and so severe that I thought a hole would tear through my chest and leave me broken on the ground. Instead, it was the small toys that he had kept. A rattle. A little figure of a wolverine. There was a broken mirror in there somewhere and a picture of a woman with curls. All shattered around us.
I looked towards Gabriel, watching as he struggled to move. Pulling his sword he tried to cut away at whatever was holding him but it was as if he were pinned in place or moving through something thick and viscous. <<if $miloodin == "true">> Milo was not far from him, pinned to the wall in a similar fashion, panic flooding his eyes as he looked not at Caliban or at me, but at the sky of the market itself. <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">>Belladonna was still within the elevators gates. I doubted she could move but she had never made her presence truly a threat to begin with. Though, as Caliban advanced towards me, I could see her eyes deepen in warning. <<elseif $hazelodin == "true">> Hazel was nearby, arms curled over her head in protection, a soft sound of weeping coming from her.<</if>>
“You’re just like him.” Turning my face upwards, I looked towards Caliban. He was silhouetted by the window, the lanterns outside lighting him along with the black electric crackle of his magic. “Don’t get what you want so you take it instead.” He was laughing now. Through a thick band of tears, he was laughing at me, his eyes broken and betrayed. “Fine then. You want me to become a raven? I’ll become a raven. I hope this market splits in two, $name. And I hope you know that you’re the one who did it.”
Feathers shot from him like thin blades, erupting from his skin in a twist of blood and feathered energy. I heard the cry from the bird as it was the only thing left standing in Caliban’s spot. Shooting from the window, he took flight. Scrambling forward I tried to catch him, even after he had cleared from the worn wooden floors. I skidded to a halt, looking out over the Renaissance district where screams began to erupt from below. Above, the lanterns began to burst, showering the market goers with bits of glass and flame while the earth beneath rumbled. Looking upwards, towards where Caliban had flown, I saw the sky shred apart. A deep bruising tear across the fabric expanse, opening into a windswept mountain top with a rolling ocean behind. Water began to pour in from above, flooding the market below. My chest clenched in fear as I knew, without a doubt, that the district was about to be lost.
<<if $gabrielodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 1]]
<<elseif $miloodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine M alt 1]]
<<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine B alt 1]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine H alt 1]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Nine H alt 1]]<</if>>
<<set $freecaliban to "false">>“Go,” I rasped.
A sob broke from his throat, an ugly cry that shattered to the floor. He hung his head, shoulders shuddering with a mixture of relief and abject fear. With a deep and shaky breath, he lifted his head as he walked towards me. I felt my own body shaking, my head swirling with everything that had just been said. With the knowledge that I was never going to see him again.
Taking me by the arms, he pulled me close. I could feel the magic that threatened to ruin everything lash across my skin, branding me. Pulling me towards him, he pressed his lips to the crown of my head. My eyes fell shut at the kiss.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
I nodded, knowing the fate that I had just sealed. “Just, take care of yourself, Caliban,” I whispered.
“I will. I swear.”
And with that, he was gone. With a rustle of feathers that left black wind in its wake, Caliban turned into the shape of a raven, cawing at me weakly before soaring out through the open window. Brokenly, I watched him go.
[[Next|Free Caliban]]
<<set $freecaliban to "true">><<if $hazelodin == "true">> We walked from the building silently. Tears coursed down Hazel’s cheek which she tried to rub away. She stood mostly in the shadows, arms wrapped tight. I shouldn’t have brought her with us. She hadn't needed to see what had just transpired. <<elseif $miloodin == "true">> We walked from the building in relative silence. Milo’s hands were still shoved in his pocket, cigarette perched between his lips, as he looked at me through his lashes. I didn’t know if I could look at him back. <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> We walked from the building silently, the sound of Belladonna’s heels clicking against the stained floor. She didn’t say anything one way or another and despite me making a decision to clearly not receive Odin’s favor, she did not seem mad. Just quietly resigned. <<elseif $gabrielodin == "true">>We walked from the building silently, a complex expression reflecting in Gabriel's eyes. I could tell the moment was weighing on him and he was grappling with what had even happened.<</if>>
“Why’d you do it?” Gabriel asked.
We were walking back through the market. The lanterns seemed a bit dimmer now, hovering above us, heavy and lifeless. I stared up at them, wondering if I had ever seen them as bright and exciting. Or if they had only been a painting across a desolate sky.
“Do what?” I asked, my voice cracked through with emotion. I didn’t dare look at the building that now looked dark behind us. I had made sure to turn off the lights before leaving, saying goodbye to the things that Caliban had collected through the years.
“Let him go.”
When I turned to Gabriel I could see the pinched look upon his brow. As if my actions were something he was truly trying to sort out. Giving Caliban up meant one thing and one thing only. We had failed. But I couldn’t in good conscience send him back to the hands of the man who willingly wrapped a noose around his neck.
“Because holding someone against their will, no matter if you sugar coat it in the guise of love, is wrong, Gabriel. It is so very wrong.”
There was silence as Gabriel took in my words, something crossing his face in a way that had me concerned he didn’t understand. <<if $hazelodin == "true">> Hazel tugged at my hand, however, pulling my gaze from him. “Can we please just go home?” she asked tiredly. I could see it. The way our conversation up top had affected her. Even with us having let Caliban go, it was too much. It was all too much. I nodded to her. Wanting to get her home as much as I wanted to put distance between myself and this moment. <<elseif $miloodin == "true">> Flinging an arm around my shoulder, Milo squeezed me tight. I wondered if he was worried I was going to fall. After what had just happened, I felt as if I was floating away. My feet didn’t feel like they were hitting the floor anymore. I felt like I was going to slip into nothing. “Come on, darlin’,” he drawled. “Let’s put some distance between us and tonight.” I nodded at him. At this point, I was willing to do anything to get Caliban’s tearful gaze out of my mind. <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> Stepping up to my side, Belladonna looked between Gabriel and I. “How about a walk, dear heart? Some fresh air might do you good. Gabriel,” she looked at him. “Will you be alright getting back?”
He blinked at her, as if he didn’t quite get why she was asking. “Of course.”
“Well then, come along, dear heart. Let us go and own the night.” She began walking, giving Gabriel a nod as she passed.<</if>>
I looked at Gabriel tiredly. I didn’t know what I was expecting but it hadn’t been this. “Thank you for coming with me,” I told him. It was the only thing I could think of to say. In return, he gave me a half-hearted nod.
<<if $gabrielodin == "true">> [[Go with Gabriel|Gabriel's end]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "true">>[[Go with Hazel|Hazel end]]
<<elseif $miloodin == "true">>[[Go with Milo|Milo end]]
<<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">>[[Go with Belladonna|Belladonna end]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "false">>[[Go to Hazel's|Hazel Odin False]]<</if>>
<<set $freecaliban to "true">>The world was dark as we made our way to the elevator, whatever magic that had been holding us captive lifting. The lanterns were gone and the ambient light from the surrounding fires was doused with the floods. Gabriel looked at me, eyes bright silver as people from the markets began screaming in terror.
“Can you make it to safety?” he asked, clearly hesitant about leaving me. Before I had the chance to say anything, I felt the swirl of feathers brush against my cheek. For a moment, I thought it was Caliban. But upon turning, I stared into the bright blue eyes of his brother.
“Well,” he said with a thin smile. “You fucked up. The Allfather will see you now.”
With a blink, I was back in the courtyard, just outside of the room I had been in earlier that day. The room where Chrysanthemum and Noctine had stood arguing with the Allfather. Where I had sat and spoke with the man cordially. The courtyard itself felt heavier somehow. Brightly lit torches burning upon each juncture of the wall but their light somehow not reaching the darkest corners of the room.
“So, he ran.” Odin’s voice came from out of the darkness as he stepped into the light. The kindly old man that had been presented to me earlier was no more. The one in front of me looked much more like a warrior. Someone who did not put up with failure even in the slightest.
“I tried to bring him back,” I told him. “I brought the Warden and…”
Odin held up a hand, stopping me. “It’s alright,” he said. “I am not angry.”
I stared at him. Behind me, even Huginn seemed confused by the statement.
“Allfather,” he started slowly. “I thought the entire point was to bring Muninn back into the fold.”
“It was. It still is. And now,” Odin looked up towards the sky with one eye. “He is back in the nine realms. He is back home. Albeit, not quite how I wished but he is there. Looks like he will need to run a bit longer to learn his lesson.”
I started at him, my eyes wide. My shoes were damp from the flooded market streets, the screams of so many still echoing in my ears. “This was your plan all along?”
Odin hummed. “I am very aware of what my son believes me to be. I am very aware of the things that brought us to this point. I was hopeful that he would return willingly and we could return home together but he chose to run from his problems once more.” Odin shrugged, thinking over his words for a moment, pondering them as if the decision had not been waiting. “But he did choose. Perhaps I do need to give him some merit for that. There was a choice that he made within the chaos. He has struggled with that since he was a boy. I do wish I could stop forcing his hand, however."
[[You made your point. Can I have the favor now?]]
[[What in the actual fuck is wrong with you Barons?]]
[[Why even enlist my help at all?]]
The world was dark as we made our way to the elevator, whatever magic that had been holding us captive lifting. The lanterns were gone and the ambient light from the surrounding fires was doused with the floods. Gabriel looked at me, eyes bright silver as people from the markets began screaming in terror.
“Go,” Milo said. Gabriel nodded at the two of us before running off. I could barely see Milo in the dark that was encircling us, feeling as if it were trying to wrap us in a sickly embrace. “$name, I need you to get back to the shop. Make sure Hazel is okay.”
I blinked, seeing a faint outline of him as someone ran by in the dark, a torch in their lit hand. “What? Where are you going?"
“To help.” His hands were on my shoulders, pressing against me in a tight grip.
“To help? How? Milo, the ocean is flooding the district. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said urgently. “But I need you to go.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer him. I tried yelling out for him but it was swallowed up in the sound of rushing water.
[[Try to follow him and help]]
[[Head back to Hazel’s]]
The world was dark as we made our way to the elevator, whatever magic that had been holding us captive lifting. The lanterns were gone and the ambient light from the surrounding fires was doused with the floods. Gabriel looked at me, eyes bright silver as people from the markets began screaming in terror.
“I’ll make sure $name gets back safe,” Belladonna said to Gabriel, giving him a slight nod. I didn’t know what it said about the situation that he trusted her in that moment, casting both of us one last look before he ran into the dark.
Turning, I looked at Belladonna with wide and horrified eyes. As the world swarmed around us in absolute chaos, I felt as if time began to slow. It was just her and I in that moment, as the world began to die.
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">> Reaching out, she cupped my face. “Actions have consequences, little muse. You made a decision, now we must continue on.”<</if>>
Sucking in a breath, I blinked at her, feeling the salt from the ocean begin to fill the air around us. “What do we do?"
“We will not be doing anything,” she said, nodding over my shoulder. “Someone awaits.” Turning, I nearly ran right into the barreled chest of the twin raven. Caliban’s brother.
“Well,” he said with a thin smile. “You fucked up. The Allfather will see you now.”
With a blink, I was back in the courtyard, just outside of the room I had been in earlier that day. The room where Chrysanthemum and Noctine had stood arguing with the Allfather. Where I had sat and spoke with the man cordially. The courtyard itself felt heavier somehow. Brightly lit torches burning upon each juncture of the wall but their light somehow not reaching the darkest corners of the room.
“So, he ran.” Odin’s voice came from out of the darkness as he stepped into the light. The kindly old man that had been presented to me earlier was no more. The one in front of me looked much more like a warrior. Someone who did not put up with failure even in the slightest.
“I tried to bring him back,” I told him. “I brought the Warden and…”
Odin held up a hand, stopping me. “It’s alright,” he said. “I am not angry.”
I stared at him. Behind me, even Huginn seemed confused by the statement.
“Allfather,” he started slowly. “I thought the entire point was to bring Muninn back into the fold.”
“It was. It still is. And now,” Odin looked up towards the sky with one eye. “He is back in the nine realms. He is back home. Albeit, not quite how I wished but he is there. Looks like he will need to run a bit longer to learn his lesson.”
I started at him, my eyes wide. My shoes were damp from the flooded market streets, the screams of so many still echoing in my ears. “This was your plan all along?”
Odin hummed. “I am very aware of what my son believes me to be. I am very aware of the things that brought us to this point. I was hopeful that he would return willingly and we could return home together but he chose to run from his problems once more.” Odin shrugged, thinking over his words for a moment, pondering them as if the decision had not been waiting. “But he did choose. Perhaps I do need to give him some merit for that. There was a choice that he made within the chaos. He has struggled with that since he was a boy. I do wish I could stop forcing his hand, however.
[[You made your point. Can I have the favor now?]]
[[What in the actual fuck is wrong with you Barons?]]
[[Why even enlist my help at all?]]
<<if $hazelodin == "true">>The world was dark as we made our way to the elevator, whatever magic that had been holding us captive lifting. The lanterns were gone and the ambient light from the surrounding fires was doused with the floods. Gabriel looked at me, eyes bright silver as people from the markets began screaming in terror.
“Both of you, head back to the apothecary.” It was not a request so much as it was an order from the Warden. He was running off into the dark before either of us could respond.
Next to me, Hazel was crying softly as the screams beyond the walls became louder and louder and the ocean spray from a realm that was not our own drowned them steadily out. Turning, I went to reach for her, intent on pulling her through the alleyways and as far away from the flooding as I could. Even if it didn’t lead us back to the apothecary. But instead, I ran into a barreled chest. For one brief moment I thought it was Caliban. But instead, I was staring into the eyes of his brother.
“Well,” he said with a thin smile. “You fucked up. The Allfather will see you now.”
With a blink, I was back in the courtyard, just outside of the room I had been in earlier that day. The room where Chrysanthemum and Noctine had stood arguing with the Allfather. Where I had sat and spoke with the man cordially. The courtyard itself felt heavier somehow. Brightly lit torches burning upon each juncture of the wall but their light somehow not reaching the darkest corners of the room.
“So, he ran.” Odin’s voice came from out of the darkness as he stepped into the light. The kindly old man that had been presented to me earlier was no more. The one in front of me looked much more like a warrior. Someone who did not put up with failure even in the slightest.<<elseif $hazelodin == "false">>The world was dark as we made our way to the elevator, whatever magic that had been holding us captive lifting. The lanterns were gone and the ambient light from the surrounding fires was doused with the floods. Gabriel looked at me, eyes bright silver as people from the markets began screaming in terror.
“Can you make it to safety?” he asked, clearly hesitant about leaving me. Before I had the chance to say anything, I felt the swirl of feathers brush against my cheek. For a moment, I thought it was Caliban. But upon turning, I stared into the bright blue eyes of his brother.
“Well,” he said with a thin smile. “You fucked up. The Allfather will see you now.”
With a blink, I was back in the courtyard, just outside of the room I had been in earlier that day. The room where Chrysanthemum and Noctine had stood arguing with the Allfather. Where I had sat and spoke with the man cordially. The courtyard itself felt heavier somehow. Brightly lit torches burning upon each juncture of the wall but their light somehow not reaching the darkest corners of the room.
“So, he ran.” Odin’s voice came from out of the darkness as he stepped into the light. The kindly old man that had been presented to me earlier was no more. The one in front of me looked much more like a warrior. Someone who did not put up with failure even in the slightest.<</if>>
“I tried to bring him back,” I told him. I felt panic. Both and what was happening outside these walls and for the fact that Hazel had just been left there. “I brought the Warden and…”
Odin held up a hand, stopping me. “It’s alright,” he said. “I am not angry.”
I stared at him. Behind me, even Huginn seemed confused by the statement.
“Allfather,” he started slowly. “I thought the entire point was to bring Muninn back into the fold.”
“It was. It still is. And now,” Odin looked up towards the sky with one eye. “He is back in the nine realms. He is back home. Albeit, not quite how I wished but he is there. Looks like he will need to run a bit longer to learn his lesson.”
I started at him, my eyes wide. My shoes were damp from the flooded market streets, the screams of so many still echoing in my ears. “This was your plan all along?”
Odin hummed. “I am very aware of what my son believes me to be. I am very aware of the things that brought us to this point. I was hopeful that he would return willingly and we could return home together but he chose to run from his problems once more.” Odin shrugged, thinking over his words for a moment, pondering them as if the decision had not been waiting. “But he did choose. Perhaps I do need to give him some merit for that. There was a choice that he made within the chaos. He has struggled with that since he was a boy. I do wish I could stop forcing his hand, however.
[[You made your point. Can I have the favor now?]]
[[What in the actual fuck is wrong with you Barons?]]
[[Why even enlist my help at all?]]
I had been played. I didn’t know why it surprised me but it set the precedent for what was to come. There wasn’t a Baron to be trusted. They all had their own agenda and to think that even a single one of them was going to be truthful with me was far more trust than I ever should have bestowed upon them.
“You made your point with all of this,” I said tiredly. And it was a costly point. One that would end people’s lives but hopefully save so much more. “Can I please have the favor now?”
Odin looked at me, startled. “Of course. I am nothing but a fair man. You went through with your end of the deal, it is only fair for me to go through with mine.”
From his ring bloomed an iron feather, no bigger than his thumbnail and black as night. I took it, curling it in the palm of my hand.
“Why?” I asked as I took it. “Why not just tell me up front what it is you wanted?”
Odin smiled. It was one of those kindly, grandfather smiles, the skin at each corner of his eyes crinkling, his patch moving with the grin. “We all have a line,” he said. “And now I know where yours is. Good on you for sticking with what you believe.” Craning his head up, he looked over my shoulder. “Huginn, return young $name here.” Bowing to me, Odin smiled before turning in a clear dismissal. Before he left, he looked up at the sky once more with a sigh. “I’ll be home soon, dear wife.”
<<if $gabrielodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $miloodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 3]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]<</if>>I stared at the man before me. The one that looked as if it were just another casual day and he had come from a good meal. Someone who clearly had been going about his evening like it was no different from any other. Meanwhile, a district was flooded. My friends were out there, trying to help, and I was stuck here, asking for a favor.
“What in the actual fuck is wrong with you Barons?”
Odin laughed at that, nodding his head as if he agreed with the sentiment.
“People are dying right now,” I continued. “Do you even care?”
“Of course I care. And I did not make the decision to tear open the sky. Caliban did. And that will be something he will have to live with.”
“But it didn’t have to be this way,” I protested.
“Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. Fate spirals out in so many different directions that it is impossible to tell which choice will be right in the end. We must lead with our gut. Something that you did tonight and something that Caliban did as well. I must say, I am slightly impressed.”
My mind was reeling. It was all far too much and the cold shiver that was now trailing up and down my spine with the cries of the dead was causing my stomach to roll. People were going to die tonight. And the spirits had no place to go.
“Well, I can see that you wish to be anywhere but here,” Odin said jovially. “Thank you for a job well done. I bestow upon you my favor.” From his ring bloomed an iron feather, no bigger than his thumbnail and black as night. I took it, curling it in the palm of my hand.
“Why?” I asked as I took it. “Why not just tell me up front what it is you wanted?”
Odin smiled. It was one of those kindly, grandfather smiles, the skin at each corner of his eyes crinkling, his patch moving with the grin. “We all have a line,” he said. “And now I know where yours is. Good on you for sticking with what you believe.” Craning his head up, he looked over my shoulder. “Huginn, return them.” Bowing to me, Odin smiled before turning in a clear dismissal. Before he left, he looked up at the sky once more with a sigh. “I’ll be home soon, dear wife.”
<<if $gabrielodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $miloodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 3]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]<</if>>“If all you wanted was for him to run home, then why did you enlist my help. The same thing could have been achieved if you had walked up there yourself. He’s terrified of you.”
“Perhaps,” Odin said. Then, looking over my shoulder, he sighed. “Oh, Huginn, do not look at me that way.”
“I think I am just not understanding what the point was,” Huginn said with a clipped tone. “It is clear that Muninn cannot handle life on his own. That he does need your guidance more than anything. The Renaissance District is all but destroyed and you know we are the ones that will have to pay for that. Why do you continue to clean up his mistakes like this? Why do you give him so many chances?”
“Huginn,” he said gently. “You have made your choice. You have set your goals and your boundaries and that is what I have always hoped for in you, son. Caliban has not been able to learn that yet.”
“His name is Muninn,” Huginn gritted out.
“His name,” Odin said darkly, “is whatever he chooses it to be. Remember that, boy.”
My mind was reeling. It was all far too much and the cold shiver that was now trailing up and down my spine with the cries of the dead was causing my stomach to roll. People were going to die tonight. And the spirits had no place to go.
“Well, I can see that you wish to be anywhere but here,” Odin said jovially. “Thank you for a job well done. I bestow upon you my favor.” From his ring bloomed an iron feather, no bigger than his thumbnail and black as night. I took it, curling it in the palm of my hand. “Huginn, return them.” Bowing to me, Odin smiled before turning in a clear dismissal. Before he left, he looked up at the sky once more with a sigh. “I’ll be home soon, dear wife.”
<<if $gabrielodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $miloodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 3]]
<<elseif $hazelodin == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Nine alt 2]]<</if>>Huginn dropped me off in front of the apothecary gates, nearly in the exact spot that he had picked me up before. The world felt colder now and the silence was all consuming. In front of me, the apothecary door opened, revealing Hazel standing worriedly inside the doorway.
I didn’t know what to say to her. What to say about any of it. Maybe there wasn’t anything to say. The world was playing us and we were all falling in line to the path that the Barons had chosen for us. And we were doing so willingly.
“Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s get you warmed up. Get your shoes dry.”
When I walked inside, I vaguely wondered if I would ever be warm again. With each favor I gained, I felt the heat seep from me. As if the events themselves were chilling me in a way that was unshakable.
“I heard what happened,” she said softly. “You don’t need to tell me. I sent messages to Gabriel’s office to come see us as soon as everything is resolved but I think he may be busy for a while. Milo has disappeared and I’m sure Belladonna is up to her ears in something political.”
Sinking down into the well-worn sofa, I set Odin’s favor down on the table. “How many more are left?”
“Three,” she said. <<if $mirror == "broken">> “Four if we count still needing to deal with Kamille’s favor. Which, I am assuming we do?.<</if>>
I placed my head in my hands. So little time had passed and yet it still felt like we were making the kind of progress that didn’t matter in the end.
“$name, are you alright?”
[[I betrayed him for nothing]]
[[I stand by what I did]]
[[I wish things could have gone differently]]Huginn dropped me off in front of the apothecary gates, nearly in the exact spot that he had picked me up before. The world felt colder now and the silence was all consuming. I walked inside, my heart in my throat. I had no idea if Hazel would be there or not. Part of me expected to turn around and walk back to the district myself. To slog through the water to find her. When I saw her sitting in front of the fire, hair and clothes still soaked, I felt relief flood through me.
Rushing towards her, I moved to hug her but she flinched away. Stopping, I stared at her. First looking for signs of hurt. All I saw was salt encrusted clothes however. It reminded me of the Deep.
“Hazel?”
“I can’t believe you did that.” Her voice was dark and hollow, devoid of all emotion. Her eyes though, were red rimmed. As if she had been crying for hours.
“I had to,” I whispered. “I… the market was dying and…” and the sky was now torn open. It wasn’t what I had wanted. It wasn’t what I had even expected. But I didn’t know if the opportunity had presented itself, if I had been given the opportunity, if I would have chosen different. The Night Market was dying. I had been under the impression that one of the ways to keep that from happening, was to undergo the process with the Barons. It was what we had planned. What we had all agreed to.
“You didn’t,” Hazel said slowly. “There is always a choice, $name. And you chose this one.” Standing, she looked at me. “Just like you chose for me to come tonight. Chose for me to witness that all.”
“Hazel if I had know what was going to happen…”
“I asked you to let me stay home,” she yelled. Her face crumpled then into some so soft and broken, her voice suddenly small. “I asked you and yet you told me you needed me so I put you above what I knew would be right and went anyway. Even though I knew,” she cried. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle this. I…” Voice becoming choked, she stopped, wrapping her arms around her waist.
When I moved to step towards her again, she jerked away.
“No. You know what? No. I can’t do this.”
“What do you mean you can’t do this?”
“Exactly as it sounds, $name. I cannot and will not be with someone like you. Someone who was willing to do that tonight is not someone I want in my life.” I stared after her as she grabbed her jacket, pulling it over her sodden clothes. I knew where she was going. Heading down to the creek out back.
“Hazel…”
But she held up a hand. “You sacrificed someone you cared for,” she said. “Right or wrong, I will not be the judge of that. But what I do know, is I cannot invite someone into my heart or into my bed, if this is who they are going to be.” Opening the door, the burst of cold air rushed through the room, chilling me even more and forming ice across the damp tops of my shoes. Before Hazel slipped through and into the freezing night, she looked over her shoulder at me. “I wish you had never asked me to come with you.”
The door clicked shut behind her and the room swept through with cold. Numbly, I stared at the closed door, willing myself to go after her. But one step forward and I heard Mr. Billows hiss loudly. The cat was growling, pacing back and forth in front of the door. And behind me, the fire went out with a guttering whine.
I was left in the dark. Alone once more.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "true">>“I betrayed him for nothing,” I said softly.
“But you got the favor,” she reasoned. “That’s not nothing.”
“It feels like nothing.” I stared down at the iron feather. I wondered if Odin would have given it to me no matter what. If this was more of a test of my moral stature, then did it truly matter the outcome.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Resting her head on my shoulder, she held me close. “Oh, honey,” she breathed. “I am so so sorry. I can't even imagine how much this hurts.”<</if>> I felt my throat constrict and part of me wished to simply scream. There was so much that I wanted to go and take back. I wanted to sit on that rooftop with Caliban again and find a different solution. I wanted to never heard the screams of the market as he lost control and ripped open the sky. I had no idea what this meant and without the Gatekeeper, if we would even get it closed. For all I knew, this was the beginning of the end of it all.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” I told her honestly.
Out there, the world was crumbling and my actions were a source to that slow descent into destruction. I felt like if we did anything, it would only continue.
So we sat. Together, Hazel and I sat, watching the fire. Gabriel did not come to the apothecary that night to tell us what had become of the district. <<if $miloodin == "true">>Nor did we see Milo. <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> Belladonna did not show that night either. I wondered if she was helping or if she was washing her hands of it all. <</if>> And tomorrow, I would wake to a world that was fundamentally changed. The lanterns would mourn the loss of their brethren, a district would be swallowed into the market's forgotten conscious, and I would still be here, continuing to try.
It was not the only outcome, but it felt like the only course of action that was in my control.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>“I stand by what I did tonight,” I said firmly. The market was dying. And it would continue to die unless we did something. Was Caliban a sacrifice I had yearned to make? No. But it was one I was willing to do if it meant that the market could thrive. That the people could still walk the streets.
It just didn’t feel like the right thing. It felt like the absolute wrong sort of thing for all the right reasons and I didn’t know how that sat with me any longer. But it wasn’t as if I could go back on it. Not now. I had to stand by my decision.
“Hazel, people were going to die. And Caliban very well could be sick. I wish it had gone differently but I do not regret my decision. When it comes between one person, or many, I am going to have to make the hard decision to choose the many. I don’t have to like it, but it is what I will always choose.”
“What can I do?” she asked, just wanting to help me.
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” I told her honestly.
Out there, the world was crumbling and my actions were a source to that slow descent into destruction. I felt like if we did anything, it would only continue.
So we sat. Together, Hazel and I sat, watching the fire. Gabriel did not come to the apothecary that night to tell us what had become of the district. <<if $miloodin == "true">>Nor did we see Milo. <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> Belladonna did not show that night either. I wondered if she was helping or if she was washing her hands of it all. <</if>> And tomorrow, I would wake to a world that was fundamentally changed. The lanterns would mourn the loss of their brethren, a district would be swallowed into the market's forgotten conscious, and I would still be here, continuing to try.
It was not the only outcome, but it felt like the only course of action that was in my control.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>“I wish things could have gone differently,” I confessed into the palms of my hands. Hazel had a blanket wrapped around me by then, and a soothing hand on my back. “It all went so out of control so fast.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Resting her head on my shoulder, she held me close. “Oh, honey,” she breathed. “I am so so sorry. I wish it had gone differently too.”<</if>> I felt my throat constrict and part of me wished to simply scream. There was so much that I wanted to go and take back. I wanted to sit on that rooftop with Caliban again and find a different solution. I never had wanted to hear the screams of the market as he lost control and ripped open the sky. I had no idea what this meant and without the Gatekeeper, if we would even get it closed. For all I knew, this was the beginning of the end of it all.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” I told her honestly.
Out there, the world was crumbling and my actions were a source to that slow descent into destruction. I felt like if we did anything, it would only continue.
So we sat. Together, Hazel and I sat, watching the fire. Gabriel did not come to the apothecary that night to tell us what had become of the district. <<if $miloodin == "true">>Nor did we see Milo. <<elseif $belladonnaodin == "true">> Belladonna did not show that night either. I wondered if she was helping or if she was washing her hands of it all. <</if>> And tomorrow, I would wake to a world that was fundamentally changed. The lanterns would mourn the loss of their brethren, a district would be swallowed into the market's forgotten conscious, and I would still be here, continuing to try.
It was not the only outcome, but it felt like the only course of action that was in my control.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>I raced after him. The sky opening was partially my fault. If I had only handled it better. Talked to Caliban. Or had Gabriel grab him before anything was mentioned, his magic wouldn’t have been so explosive. Odin had warned me and yet I had still approached him as a friend. Because that had been what he was to me.
And I had lost him tonight.
I wasn’t about to lose Milo as well.
I could see the silhouette of him, dodging through the alleys until our feet began to splash in water and the salty brine of the sea was up to my knees. Turning a corner, I made to call out for Milo once more but he was not there. The faint trace of something burnt filled my senses along with the crackling whip of magic as I nearly fell backwards as another rush of ocean hit me in the knees.
I fell back into a broad chest, however, as a pair of arms hauled me up from the water's depths. For a moment, I thought it was Caliban. But it was only Huginn, and he did not look pleased.
“Well,” he said with a thin smile. “You fucked up. The Allfather will see you now.”
With a blink, I was back in the courtyard, just outside of the room I had been in earlier that day. The room where Chrysanthemum and Noctine had stood arguing with the Allfather. Where I had sat and spoke with the man cordially. The courtyard itself felt heavier somehow. Brightly lit torches burning upon each juncture of the wall but their light somehow not reaching the darkest corners of the room.
“So, he ran.” Odin’s voice came from out of the darkness as he stepped into the light. The kindly old man that had been presented to me earlier was no more. The one in front of me looked much more like a warrior. Someone who did not put up with failure even in the slightest.
“I tried to bring him back,” I told him. “I brought the Warden and…”
Odin held up a hand, stopping me. “It’s alright,” he said. “I am not angry.”
I stared at him. Behind me, even Huginn seemed confused by the statement.
“Allfather,” he started slowly. “I thought the entire point was to bring Muninn back into the fold.”
“It was. It still is. And now,” Odin looked up towards the sky with one eye. “He is back in the nine realms. He is back home. Albeit, not quite how I wished but he is there. Looks like he will need to run a bit longer to learn his lesson.”
I started at him, my eyes wide. My shoes were damp from the flooded market streets, the screams of so many still echoing in my ears. “This was your plan all along?”
Odin hummed. “I am very aware of what my son believes me to be. I am very aware of the things that brought us to this point. I was hopeful that he would return willingly and we could return home together but he chose to run from his problems once more.” Odin shrugged, thinking over his words for a moment, pondering them as if the decision had not been waiting. “But he did choose. Perhaps I do need to give him some merit for that. There was a choice that he made within the chaos. He has struggled with that since he was a boy. I do wish I could stop forcing his hand, however.
[[You made your point. Can I have the favor now?]]
[[What in the actual fuck is wrong with you Barons?]]
[[Why even enlist my help at all?]]
There was nothing I could do. It was doubtful that there was anything Milo could even do. Chaos was slowly emerging around us and as I looked up at the sky I could see the ocean waves cracking across a sea that was in some different reality before it splashed across the surface to fall down into the depths of the market.
I pressed my hands to the side of my head, squeezing and curling my fingers against my scalp. How had it gone so incredibly wrong so fast. I knew that I had to get back to Hazel’s and warn her. Warn the rest of the market as well. The Velvet Guard were strong but not even they could stop and endless sea that continued to pour down into our realm.
Turning, I looked for the way back to the Apothecary, the alleys suddenly seeming so much more confusing than they had before. Lost with the screams of the panicked swelling up in one deep crescendo all around me, I felt my heart seize.
When the raven from earlier grabbed me, I felt my breath catch. For a moment, I thought it was Caliban. But it was only Huginn, and he did not look pleased.
“Well,” he said with a thin smile. “You fucked up. The Allfather will see you now.”
With a blink, I was back in the courtyard, just outside of the room I had been in earlier that day. The room where Chrysanthemum and Noctine had stood arguing with the Allfather. Where I had sat and spoke with the man cordially. The courtyard itself felt heavier somehow. Brightly lit torches burning upon each juncture of the wall but their light somehow not reaching the darkest corners of the room.
“So, he ran.” Odin’s voice came from out of the darkness as he stepped into the light. The kindly old man that had been presented to me earlier was no more. The one in front of me looked much more like a warrior. Someone who did not put up with failure even in the slightest.
“I tried to bring him back,” I told him. “I brought the Warden and…”
Odin held up a hand, stopping me. “It’s alright,” he said. “I am not angry.”
I stared at him. Behind me, even Huginn seemed confused by the statement.
“Allfather,” he started slowly. “I thought the entire point was to bring Muninn back into the fold.”
“It was. It still is. And now,” Odin looked up towards the sky with one eye. “He is back in the nine realms. He is back home. Albeit, not quite how I wished but he is there. Looks like he will need to run a bit longer to learn his lesson.”
I started at him, my eyes wide. My shoes were damp from the flooded market streets, the screams of so many still echoing in my ears. “This was your plan all along?”
Odin hummed. “I am very aware of what my son believes me to be. I am very aware of the things that brought us to this point. I was hopeful that he would return willingly and we could return home together but he chose to run from his problems once more.” Odin shrugged, thinking over his words for a moment, pondering them as if the decision had not been waiting. “But he did choose. Perhaps I do need to give him some merit for that. There was a choice that he made within the chaos. He has struggled with that since he was a boy. I do wish I could stop forcing his hand, however.
[[You made your point. Can I have the favor now?]]
[[What in the actual fuck is wrong with you Barons?]]
[[Why even enlist my help at all?]]
Gabriel silently stared ahead as we began to walk away from the district and the now abandoned building. The market had felt so much more empty these last few days. As if the cold was driving everyone away. But as I looked at it now, I could see the change. The amber lights that had once greeted me felt different somehow. The lanterns had renewed themselves but they felt dull. Lackluster. Or perhaps, the newness was starting to become tarnished. Before, I could dismiss the ugliness of the world and be blinded by the bustle of the streets. But now, it all felt like lead in my gut.
Caliban.
The Book Baron and his wife.
Malcolm Albright.
<<if $ever == "true">>Ever.<</if>> Everyone, absolutely everyone, had been dazzled by the lights of the market only to have something significant taken from them. They had been caught up in the glamour of it all that they had almost forgotten. I was beginning to think the market had that effect on people. A certain way of making you forget what you were supposed to be doing in favor of whatever it wanted you to do instead. Enticing you to sing and dance beneath its umber lanterns until you forgot who you were or your own purpose in life.
“Are you alright?” I startled at Gabriel’s question. He was staring at me, the two of us somehow having wound up near the docks. Just over the crest of sand would have been the cages. The flesh pit. I could see the entrance/exit of the cave I had stumbled out of with him.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[No|Chapter nine no]]
[[Just being maudlin]]
[[I will be]]<<elseif $gabrielro == "false">>[[No|Gabe friend no]]
[[Just being maudlin|Gabe friend maudlin]]
[[I will be|Gabe friend I will be]]<</if>>Hazel was quiet as we wandered down the alley’s, back towards home. Her eyes were still red rimmed and I could see her shaking. I wanted to reach out and hold her but I was unsure if she was mad at me. It was clear, I shouldn’t have taken her with me tonight. It wouldn’t have mattered the outcome of the evening. There were just certain things Hazel maybe shouldn’t have been involved with. The fate of a man's life, was one of them.
“Hazel,” I began.
She shook her head. “I need to ask you a question. How that is answered is kind of going to dictate how I want to spend the rest of the night.”
I nodded at her.
Stopping in the middle of the street, she put distance between us. I was no stranger to seeing pain from Hazel before but now, it felt different. It was directed at me. “Did you ever think that you wouldn’t let him go? Did you go there with the intention of giving him back to Odin.”
“I didn’t know what I was going to do,” I told her truthfully. “I didn’t have all the answers. I needed to see him and talk to him.”
“You scared him. You knew what he went through and you didn’t trust him. You trusted Odin first.”
“Hazel, no, that wasn’t the case.”
“Then why didn’t you go there and immediately tell him to run?” she shouted. I had never had Hazel shout at me. “Why didn’t you tell Odin no from the beginning?”
[[I don’t know. I didn’t know who to believe]]
[[Because the alternative to letting Caliban go is not getting Odin’s favor]]
[[Because I’m not in the habit of telling Barons no]]
We bid goodbye to Gabriel and continued to walk through the market. <<if $miloro == "true">>There was no real direction that either of us were going and in the end, we were both so lost in thought that the only thing that kept us together was the clasp of our hands. <<elseif $platonic == "true">> There was no real direction that either of us were going and in the end, were both so lost in thought that the only thing that kept us together was the occasional bump of our hips as he veered to to close.<</if>>
“Was I wrong?” I finally asked.
The question startled Milo, who had been looking out into the distance, staring at the edges of the alleyways. When he looked at me, he blinked a few times. As if he hadn’t expected to see me. It was a look he had been giving me a lot as of late.
“About that man?” he asked. I nodded to him. There was a part of me that needed reassurance, but there was an equally bigger part that just needed to voice what had happened out loud. Milo frowned a little, seeming to know that the answer to the question would hold far more weight. “No,” he said after a long moment. “I– I don’t think you were wrong.”
“Even though I may have just risked the entirety of the market?” I swallowed thickly. The words felt like a weight that was descending on the world around us. Like I had somehow cursed the Night Market itself into absolute oblivion.
Sighing, Milo stopped. <<if $miloro == "true">>Pulling my body to his, he wrapped his arms around my waist until the two of us leaned against one of the alley walls. The lanterns flickered above us, golden and frosted with snow. Milo had taken to wearing heavier clothing which I was not used to and as he opened his coat and pushed it around the two of us, I saw something sad flicker across his face. <<elseif $platonic == "true">> Leaning against the alley wall, he motioned for me to join him. With our backs pressed to the stone, we waited until a few people passed, Milo nodding politely at them as they went. When they rounded the corner, I saw something sad flicker across his face. <</if>>
“I don’t think what you did was wrong,” he told me gently. “And I’m sorry if my silence is making you think that way. I just know that I couldn’t do it.”
“What do you mean?”
“That man up there was someone you cared for. And I get it. He was the first good that you saw within the market. And the choice you had to make, to put him back in a terrible situation in order to help the masses as a whole, or to take your chances and protect him knowing full well what that might mean, is not an easy choice. It’s probably going to be one you second guess for a long time coming. Another solution to the problem may very well not be out there. But you chose that man because morally, you knew you couldn’t live with yourself if you sold him out.” Shaking his head, he laughed a little, the sound bitter and somewhat envious. “$name, what you did up there was strength I could only wish to have.”
“Is it strength? I may have just doomed everyone else?”
“Are you going to look for another solution to the Baron favors?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to give up if there is still time?”
“No.”
“Then you didn’t doom a damn thing. All you did was make sure that you didn’t compromise what you believed in for the sake of all this.” He nodded his head around us. I looked at the frost covered lanterns, seeing the sprawling alleys ripple out to the districts beyond, and somewhere, heard laughter from the people wandering the streets. I didn’t know if it made me feel better or not. “Hey, this is not a bad thing, $name. Your actions are noble. I wish I was as strong as you.”
I looked at him. “You would have given him back?”
“In your position? In a fucking heartbeat. Because I’m a coward. Always have been. And it would have been easier to give him back and gain the favor of someone high-powered who could hopefully fix this mess, then walk into the unknown.”
<<if $miloro == "true">> I made sure to keep my body pressed to his as I craned my next upwards so I could see him properly. <<elseif $platonic == "true">> Still leaning against the wall, I rolled my gaze towards him, frowning.<</if>>
[[You’re not a coward Milo]]
[[You still not sleeping?]]
[[Are you sure you are alright?]]
The streets were cold. It was a cold that I felt in my very bones. It lingered long after a warm bath. Lately, it felt as if the Night Market had a chill that clung to me like death. I almost wished for the heat lanterns of the Dollmakers estate.
“You may have just changed the course of things, dear heart,” Belladonna murmured as we continued to walk down the streets. I knew who she was talking about without her explicitly saying it.
“With Caliban?”
“Yes. But I also mean with the dear Warden. I know that look in his eyes. It’s the one he gets when he is facing a moral quandary. I do wonder what the Velvet Guard is going to shape into in the upcoming days.”
“All because I refused to give someone back to their abuser?"
“Yes.” Turning a corner, Belladonna gestured for me to follow her. For the first time, I didn’t have to ask. The invitation was actually quite clear. “You have been victim to the whims of how this world works,” she said. “In fact, that was the man who walked you down to be sold or torn in two. And not once did he assume he was doing anything wrong. By making the stance that you did with the raven, you showed him a different way.”
I hadn’t really thought of it before. The market was full of things that were clearly harmful. I hadn’t thought about it in some time though. I wondered if that was another effect of the market. You forgot about right and wrong after some time.
“Did you?” I asked, turning to Belladonna.
“Did I what?”
<<if $pits == "false">>“Think that locking me in a cage was wrong? Locking anyone up, really.” <<elseif $pits == "true">>"Think that tossing me in a pit was wrong. Tossing anyone in the pit, actually.<</if>>
“If we are being honest? It's hard for me to say. I long ago accepted evil for what it is. Right and wrong are rather arbitrary to me. But a man like the Warden cannot do that. Rules sometimes overshadow that morality clause, leaving him to a conviction that he is doing the right thing, but given time, and given enough evidence, he is a man who can change his mind. Perhaps with your example this evening, we will start to see Warden Caine take the role that he should have taken long ago.”
“You look pleased,” I observed.
“I am. I don’t like it when people do not live to their full potential. And Gabriel has been a lost soul for quite some time. It would please me greatly to see that change in him.”
“My actions may have sacrificed everyone in this realm tonight,” I told her. “Is the change in one person worth that?”
I felt it in the pit of my stomach. Everything felt hollow and wrong. As we began weaving through a busier portion of the market, I didn’t know how I was supposed to look at any of them.
“I think change is always worth the price,” Belladonna said.
I glanced at her, but said nothing more. I didn’t know how I felt about any of it.
[[Next|Chapter Nine B1]]
Walking back into the apothecary, I felt the heat of the fire first, and saw Hazel second. She was standing near the table in back, near the patchwork sofas. Either she heard me come through the gate or Mr. Billows had warned her. I long ago suspected that Billows and her had a secret language that I was not privy to. The cat and her seemed to know things that others did not.
<<if $gabrieltohazel == "true">>She went to rush towards me but stopped short as she saw Gabriel come in behind me. Having the Warden here at this time of night was never a good sign.
"I thought Gabriel could spend the evening with us," I explained.
She blinked in surprise but rolled with the adjustment. "That would be wonderful. I was just about to get more wood for the fire."
Gabriel nodded resolutely. "Allow me. Is it out back?"
"Just in the woodshed," she explained.
Unbuckling his sword, Gabriel leaned it against the wall and set off back out of the apothecary and to the back of the property. If Hazel was distrubed by this change of events, or concerned, she didn't let it show. Instead, she turned her attention fully to me.<</if>>
“How’d it go?” She stood, the light from the fire glowing softly around her. One look at me and she must have known it hadn’t gone well because she was across the room, pulling me in her arms before I could even breath. “Oh, honey,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I slumped against her, just breathing her in for a moment as she led me towards the fire. A small pot of tea was steaming on the table, along with fresh baked biscuits. I knew she had probably fretted the entire time I had been away but after what I had just witnessed, I was glad that I hadn’t brought her.
“What happened?” she asked.
I shook my head, feeling the pain behind my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I told her. “Not right this second.”
“Of course.” She brushed her fingers across my cheek and with her other hand, clutched me tightly to her. “Let's get something warm in your stomach.”
We sat, nibbling on biscuits and drinking tea. I felt the warmth in my belly and the shakiness of my hands subside. Next to me, Hazel looked at me worriedly.
”I let him go,” I told her after a minute, when I felt more myself and less like the Baron of the Iron district had a grip on me. “I don’t know what that’s going to mean for the market but I just couldn’t send him back to the Baron, Hazel. I couldn’t.”
She hushed me as she took me in her arms. “It’s okay,” she said. “You did the right thing.”
Tiredly, I rested against her. “I wish today had never happened,” I confessed. I knew that there was going to be ups and downs in what we were doing. I knew that what I had gone through so far was relatively calm compared to what could have taken place. But still… More often than not with these Baron meetings, they were leaving me incapacitated at night. Slumped over somewhere, wondering how I was supposed to greet the next day.
[[I feel like the world is resting completely on me and I’m scared]]
[[I feel like I can’t make any right decisions]]
[[What do we even do next?]]
“I’m being maudlin,” I told him, freely admitting to how caught in my own head I was at this moment. Not that I felt anyone could blame me.
As we stepped over a raised bit of the street, I turned to where I could hear the crashing waves. Just beyond the flickering eels and down the mouth of a winding cave, was where I had met Caliban. Where he had peered at me with one eye and regaled me with a story until I felt my panic calm.
Turning to Gabriel, I shook my head. “Things have to change,” I told him. “The way the market is, is not the way it can continue.”
“What do you mean?”
<<if $pits == "false">>Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You locked me in a cage upon arriving here. Because you thought I had caused some sort of infraction, you put me in a cell. Not the one inside the prison itself. Not the one where I would have the chance to explain myself, or express my need for help. But you walked me down to that beach and you were willing to sell me to the highest bidder. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.” <<elseif $pit == "true">> Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You were ready to sell me for parts, for //parts//, Gabriel, because I would not comply with the arbitrary rules of a world I didn’t even know. I was dropped into this world and instead of giving me a chance to explain, you escorted me down towards a body pit. My wrists,” I said, holding up the stained cuffs. “My wrists are stained gray because of you. Because you wanted to control me. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.”<</if>>
His jaw tightened. “$name, it is simply how things are done. There are just so many cultures within the Night Market that…”
“No,” I said. “I am talking right now and I need you to listen. I don’t care that there are many cultures within the Night Market. I don’t care that each of them have their own way of dealing with criminals or what they deem as unjust. This is not their land. This is not where they came from. They chose to come here and they are choosing to stay. And now, there needs to be a stand that is taken. And that stand absolutely cannot be one of murky waters where you deem it okay to punish people to such extremes because they did something that whoever was on duty that evening, thought might be wrong. <<if $pits == "false">>For crying out loud, Gabriel, you have a pit on that beach. A pit where you toss bodies and allow others to come buy them, use them as slaves or simply chop them up and sell them for parts. How is that okay to you?” <<elseif $pits == "true">> There is nothing, //nothing//, that someone can do, to make shoving them in a body pit justifiable.<</if>>
“It’s just how it's always been,” he said, his words beginning to stutter. “It’s the rules here, $name. I did not make them.”
“You are the Warden of this market. There are no other higher authorities other than the Barons who are all enmeshed in their own selfish gains. You make the rules now and you have every right to change them. So why aren’t you?”
He looked away, bowing his head. I could see the anger flit across him as I challenged him but I knew him. I was beginning to know him well. He was a good man. I just didn’t understand why he was not acting like one.
“Gabriel,” I said softly, stepping closer to him. “Last week I sat at a dinner table with you where a woman was nearly murdered for spilling water upon your sleeve. I stared at a painting of a man who is like a father to you, that was made entirely out of living and breathing humans. I watched as people wandered that estate for Elias’s entertainment, cut up, broken, bruised, all in the name of perfection and they couldn’t say or do anything because this world has beaten them down so much that they actually thought that that shit show was the only way out.”
Ducking my head to catch his eyes, I dragged the silver tinged orbs upwards.
“And you,” I whispered, “sat by and watched it all. The protector of the Night Market didn’t lift a finger for the ones who needed protection the most.”
He faltered then, pulling away from me and turning his back so I could not see him. I noticed it though. How he was turned towards the ocean. Towards the mouth of the cave that he had first led me from.
“Tonight we had to make a decision,” I said. “Let Caliban go and risk everything, or decide that hurting someone else was entirely okay when done in the name of others. The reason I chose to let him go, Gabriel, is not only because it would be wrong not to. But because I refuse to keep moving my line. I will not do it anymore. Not for you and not for the sake of the market. Because if that’s what the people in this market stand for, then maybe this world should perish.”
His eyes turned sharply to me. “You do not mean that.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “But, I also don’t wish to live in a world where we consider this kind of behavior as okay.”
I saw it then. The confliction. The way his eyes ticked between silver and grey. His grace shone through momentarily as his power flared and I saw the way his fingers twitched. Inside his jacket pocket, the shard of grace he had, glowed faintly, lighting the material.
Walking up to him, I cupped his face. “You are a good man, Gabriel Caine. But you live your life by fear and the whims of others. It is time to stop being a Fallen, proving yourself to some unforeseen force that did not want you. And it is time that you become the Warden of the Night Market and truly take a stand for what is right here.”
He swallowed. “And if I can’t?”
[[I will be by your side, but it will be a strain]]
[[You are a good man. There is no can’t]]
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[Then I don't know what kind of future we have]]<</if>>“I will be.” The smile I gave him was weak as we continued on, our hands clasped within each others. I thought of the Book Barons. The way they had clung to each other in the face of a challenge. Offering each other strength as they continued through the world.
As we stepped over a raised bit of street, I stared out at the pitch of night. I couldn’t see the ocean but I could hear the waves. Beyond that was the cell. The very place I had started this journey in where Caliban had peeked through a crack in the wall and regaled me with a tale so wild that it couldn’t possibly be true. It left a sad smile on my lips as I wondered if I would ever see him again. If this market would ever truly be safe for him to come back to.
Turning to Gabriel, I shook my head. “Things have to change,” I told him. “The way the market is, is not the way it can continue.”
“What do you mean?”
<<if $pits == "false">>Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You locked me in a cage upon arriving here. Because you thought I had caused some sort of infraction, you put me in a cell. Not the one inside the prison itself. Not the one where I would have the chance to explain myself, or express my need for help. But you walked me down to that beach and you were willing to sell me to the highest bidder. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.” <<elseif $pit == "true">> Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You were ready to sell me for parts, for //parts//, Gabriel, because I would not comply with the arbitrary rules of a world I didn’t even know. I was dropped into this world and instead of giving me a chance to explain, you escorted me down towards a body pit. My wrists,” I said, holding up the stained cuffs. “My wrists are stained gray because of you. Because you wanted to control me. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.”<</if>>
His jaw tightened. “$name, it is simply how things are done. There are just so many cultures within the Night Market that…”
“No,” I said. “I am talking right now and I need you to listen. I don’t care that there are many cultures within the Night Market. I don’t care that each of them have their own way of dealing with criminals or what they deem as unjust. This is not their land. This is not where they came from. They chose to come here and they are choosing to stay. And now, there needs to be a stand that is taken. And that stand absolutely cannot be one of murky waters where you deem it okay to punish people to such extremes because they did something that whoever was on duty that evening, thought might be wrong. <<if $pits == "false">>For crying out loud, Gabriel, you have a pit on that beach. A pit where you toss bodies and allow others to come buy them, use them as slaves or simply chop them up and sell them for parts. How is that okay to you?” <<elseif $pits == "true">> There is nothing, //nothing//, that someone can do, to make shoving them in a body pit justifiable."<</if>>
“It’s just how it's always been,” he said, his words beginning to stutter. “It’s the rules here, $name. I did not make them.”
“You are the Warden of this market. There are no other higher authorities other than the Barons who are all enmeshed in their own selfish gains. You make the rules now and you have every right to change them. So why aren’t you?”
He looked away, bowing his head. I could see the anger flit across him as I challenged him but I knew him. I was beginning to know him well. He was a good man. I just didn’t understand why he was not acting like one.
“Gabriel,” I said softly, stepping closer to him. “Last week I sat at a dinner table with you where a woman was nearly murdered for spilling water upon your sleeve. I stared at a painting of a man who is like a father to you, that was made entirely out of living and breathing humans. I watched as people wandered that estate for Elias’s entertainment, cut up, broken, bruised, all in the name of perfection and they couldn’t say or do anything because this world has beaten them down so much that they actually thought that that shit show was the only way out.”
Ducking my head to catch his eyes, I dragged the silver tinged orbs upwards.
“And you,” I whispered, “sat by and watched it all. The protector of the Night Market didn’t lift a finger for the ones who needed protection the most.”
He faltered then, pulling away from me and turning his back so I could not see him. I noticed it though. How he was turned towards the ocean. Towards the mouth of the cave that he had first led me from.
“Tonight we had to make a decision,” I said. “Let Caliban go and risk everything, or decide that hurting someone else was entirely okay when done in the name of others. The reason I chose to let him go, Gabriel, is not only because it would be wrong not to. But because I refuse to keep moving my line. I will not do it anymore. Not for you and not for the sake of the market. Because if that’s what the people in this market stand for, then maybe this world should perish.”
His eyes turned sharply to me. “You do not mean that.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “But, I also don’t wish to live in a world where we consider this kind of behavior as okay.”
I saw it then. The confliction. The way his eyes ticked between silver and grey. His grace shone through momentarily as his power flared and I saw the way his fingers twitched. Inside his jacket pocket, the shard of grace he had, glowed faintly, lighting the material.
Walking up to him, I cupped his face. “You are a good man, Gabriel Caine. But you live your life by fear and the whims of others. It is time to stop being a Fallen, proving yourself to some unforeseen force that did not want you. And it is time that you become the Warden of the Night Market and truly take a stand for what is right here.”
He swallowed. “And if I can’t?”
[[I will be by your side, but it will be a strain]]
[[You are a good man. There is no can’t]]
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[Then I don't know what kind of future we have]]<</if>>“No,” I said softly. “I don’t think I am.” When he moved to touch me, offer me comfort, I stepped away. My beginning was here. Right over the dunes. I had been scared and alone and Caliban had been the first person that had even attempted to calm me while I was huddled in that cell. Not Gabriel. Not Milo or Belladonna or Hazel. But Caliban. And today, I entertained the thought of sending him back to the person he feared most of all because I wanted to do good. Morality was such a slippery slope that was far too easy to bend to your own gains.
Turning to Gabriel, I shook my head. “Things have to change,” I told him. “The way the market is, is not the way it can continue.”
“What do you mean?”
<<if $pits == "false">>Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You locked me in a cage upon arriving here. Because you thought I had caused some sort of infraction, you put me in a cell. Not the one inside the prison itself. Not the one where I would have the chance to explain myself, or express my need for help. But you walked me down to that beach and you were willing to sell me to the highest bidder. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.” <<elseif $pit == "true">> Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You were ready to sell me for parts, for //parts//, Gabriel, because I would not comply with the arbitrary rules of a world I didn’t even know. I was dropped into this world and instead of giving me a chance to explain, you escorted me down towards a body pit. My wrists,” I said, holding up the stained cuffs. “My wrists are stained gray because of you. Because you wanted to control me. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.”<</if>>
His jaw tightened. “$name, it is simply how things are done. There are just so many cultures within the Night Market that…”
“No,” I said. “I am talking right now and I need you to listen. I don’t care that there are many cultures within the Night Market. I don’t care that each of them have their own way of dealing with criminals or what they deem as unjust. This is not their land. This is not where they came from. They chose to come here and they are choosing to stay. And now, there needs to be a stand that is taken. And that stand absolutely cannot be one of murky waters where you deem it okay to punish people to such extremes because they did something that whoever was on duty that evening, thought might be wrong. <<if $pits == "false">>For crying out loud, Gabriel, you have a pit on that beach. A pit where you toss bodies and allow others to come buy them, use them as slaves or simply chop them up and sell them for parts. How is that okay to you?” <<elseif $pits == "true">> There is nothing, //nothing//, that someone can do, to make shoving them in a body pit justifiable.<</if>>
“It’s just how it's always been,” he said, his words beginning to stutter. “It’s the rules here, $name. I did not make them.”
“You are the Warden of this market. There are no other higher authorities other than the Barons who are all enmeshed in their own selfish gains. You make the rules now and you have every right to change them. So why aren’t you?”
He looked away, bowing his head. I could see the anger flit across him as I challenged him but I knew him. I was beginning to know him well. He was a good man. I just didn’t understand why he was not acting like one.
“Gabriel,” I said softly, stepping closer to him. “Last week I sat at a dinner table with you where a woman was nearly murdered for spilling water upon your sleeve. I stared at a painting of a man who is like a father to you, that was made entirely out of living and breathing humans. I watched as people wandered that estate for Elias’s entertainment, cut up, broken, bruised, all in the name of perfection and they couldn’t say or do anything because this world has beaten them down so much that they actually thought that that shit show was the only way out.”
Ducking my head to catch his eyes, I dragged the silver tinged orbs upwards.
“And you,” I whispered, “sat by and watched it all. The protector of the Night Market didn’t lift a finger for the ones who needed protection the most.”
He faltered then, pulling away from me and turning his back so I could not see him. I noticed it though. How he was turned towards the ocean. Towards the mouth of the cave that he had first led me from.
“Tonight we had to make a decision,” I said. “Let Caliban go and risk everything, or decide that hurting someone else was entirely okay when done in the name of others. The reason I chose to let him go, Gabriel, is not only because it would be wrong not to. But because I refuse to keep moving my line. I will not do it anymore. Not for you and not for the sake of the market. Because if that’s what the people in this market stand for, then maybe this world should perish.”
His eyes turned sharply to me. “You do not mean that.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “But, I also don’t wish to live in a world where we consider this kind of behavior as okay.”
I saw it then. The confliction. The way his eyes ticked between silver and grey. His grace shone through momentarily as his power flared and I saw the way his fingers twitched. Inside his jacket pocket, the shard of grace he had, glowed faintly, lighting the material.
Walking up to him, I cupped his face. “You are a good man, Gabriel Caine. But you live your life by fear and the whims of others. It is time to stop being a Fallen, proving yourself to some unforeseen force that did not want you. And it is time that you become the Warden of the Night Market and truly take a stand for what is right here.”
He swallowed. “And if I can’t?”
[[I will be by your side, but it will be a strain]]
[[You are a good man. There is no can’t]]
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[Then I don't know what kind of future we have]]<</if>><<if $gabrielro == "true">>Standing straight, I leaned forward, placing a kiss on his chilly lips. They were unmoving against mine as the uncertainty continued to course through him. When I pulled back, I squeezed his hands in mine, feeling my heart hammer against my chest wildly.<</if>>
“I will be by your side,” I told him. “You are someone worth fighting for, Gabriel, and I think you have just gone so long with such uncertainty, that you are not thinking straight. But I can tell you, that despite my presence here, if you continue down the road you are, it will be a strain. I hope it is one we will survive but I am not certain.”
The look that crossed his face was one born of confusion as he tried to unpack the words I had told him. The dawning realization was nothing more than naked pain in his eyes. But it had to be said. I couldn’t be with a man that deemed what was going on as right. I couldn’t idly sit by. Not like he did.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>Brushing my thumb across his cheek, I smiled at him softly.<</if>> “Come and find me in the morning,” I told him. “I think I need to walk by myself tonight.” I watched his throat bob as he swallowed but he said nothing more.
Turning to him, I walked away from the start of my journey and headlong into my future. I had an odd sensation that despite a certain raven who was now gone from our sights, that he would never truly be gone from the market. Not forever.
I wanted to make sure he had a home he was happy to come back to.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>><<if $gabrielro == "true">>Standing straight, I leaned forward, placing a kiss on his chilly lips. They were unmoving against mine as the uncertainty continued to course through him. When I pulled back, I squeezed his hands in mine, feeling my heart hammer against my chest wildly.<</if>>
“You are a good man,” I told him gently. “There is no can’t in this situation. While you may not be able to see it now, I know you soon will. What you have allowed to happen isn’t who you truly are. And I am here to tell you that as you begin to dismantle all of this, and become the man I know you can be, I will be right there with you. But Gabriel, change is a must. There is no other option here. I won’t even entertain another one.”
The look that crossed his face was one born of confusion as he tried to unpack the words I had told him. The dawning realization was nothing more than naked pain in his eyes. But it had to be said. I couldn’t be with a man that deemed what was going on as right. I couldn’t idly sit by. Not like he did.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>Brushing my thumb across his cheek, I smiled at him softly.<</if>> “Come and find me in the morning,” I told him. “I think I need to walk by myself tonight.” I watched his throat bob as he swallowed but he said nothing more.
Turning to him, I walked away from the start of my journey and headlong into my future. I had an odd sensation that despite a certain raven who was now gone from our sights, that he would never truly be gone from the market. Not forever.
I wanted to make sure he had a home he was happy to come back to.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>Standing straight, I leaned forward, placing a kiss on his chilly lips. They were unmoving against mine as the uncertainty continued to course through him. When I pulled back, I squeezed his hands in mine, feeling my heart hammer against my chest wildly.
“If you can’t,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Then I don’t know what future we can truly have.”
The look that crossed his face was one born of confusion as he tried to unpack the words I had told him. The dawning realization was nothing more than naked pain in his eyes. But it had to be said. I couldn’t be with a man that deemed what was going on as right. I couldn’t idly sit by. Not like he did.
"That is not fair," he said, voice a low rumble that chilled my spine. "Not after what I have done. I am //trying//, $name. I have broken //every// rule I have for you."
"And maybe you need to break a few more." Brushing my thumb across his cheek, I smiled at him softly. I could see the anger glinting like silver oil in his eyes. His jaw was tense under my palm, hands curled into fists at his side. “Come and find me in the morning,” I told him. “I think I need to walk by myself tonight.” I watched his throat bob as he swallowed but he said nothing more.
Turning to him, I walked away from the start of my journey and headlong into my future. I had an odd sensation that despite a certain raven who was now gone from our sights, that he would never truly be gone from the market. Not forever.
I wanted to make sure he had a home he was happy to come back to.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>Something was off. It hadn’t been noticeable at first but as time had continued to spiral it was clear something was just not quite right with Milo. The dark circles under his eyes. The stress lines across his face. The way his eyes kept skittering, as if looking for some sort of answer but he wasn’t quite sure what the question was to begin with. It was all culminating and after this morning with Tallard, I was hard-pressed to ignore it for much longer. His commentary on cowardice struck me wrong, however. Milo was many things but I had never viewed him as a coward. Not from the time I knew him, however. But, then again, we all had a past. It could be argued that I was just fortunate enough not to remember much of mine.
“I don’t see you as a coward,” I told him gently.
He snorted in laughter. “Oh, I think the verdict might still be out on that one.”
“Milo, even knowing you would have given Caliban up, doesn’t make you a coward. You would have been weighing your options.”
“Would you have been mad at me though?” he asked. “If I had been in your position and I had given your friend up, would you have been mad at me?”
[[Yes, I would have been mad]]
[[No, I would not have been mad]]Something was off. It hadn’t been noticeable at first but as time had continued to spiral it was clear something was just not quite right with Milo. The dark circles under his eyes. The stress lines across his face. The way his eyes kept skittering, as if looking for some sort of answer but he wasn’t quite sure what the question was to begin with. It was all culminating and after this morning with Tallard, I was hard-pressed to ignore it for much longer.
“Are you still not sleeping?” I asked. <<if $platanoic == "true">> “I saw you ask Hazel for a sleeping draught the other day. She said you get insomnia.” <<elseif $miloro == "true">> “The nightmares getting worse?” I reached up to brush some hair from his eyes. <</if>>
“It’s not too bad,” he said with a shrug. “Just been a long couple nights. I’m hoping that one of Hazel’s teas will help me out. Either that or she’s going to start slipping stuff into my food and make me pass out on the couch.”
Neither of us put that past Hazel. I had the distinct feeling when Milo’s insomnia had gotten bad before, she had done it without regret.
But still, I could see it. I could see something weighing him down in a way that was clearly bothering him. I just wanted to help.
[[Let him keep his secrets. He’d tell me in time]]
[[Tell him he is worrying you]]
[[Push him a little]]
Something was off. It hadn’t been noticeable at first but as time had continued to spiral it was clear something was just not quite right with Milo. The dark circles under his eyes. The stress lines across his face. The way his eyes kept skittering, as if looking for some sort of answer but he wasn’t quite sure what the question was to begin with. It was all culminating and after this morning with Tallard, I was hard-pressed to ignore it for much longer.
“Are you sure you are alright?” I asked him. “I know you keep saying you are or that you’re tired, but there is clearly something weighing on you.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>Tipping his head forward, he pressed it to mine. “There- there is,” he hesitated. “But, I don’t want to tell you.” Curling his fingers around my waist, I could feel the shudder run through him. “And I know that’s not fair and I’m a right bastard for not saying anything to you but–” he squeezed his eyes shut. “Never mind.”<<elseif $platonic == "true">>Tipping his head forward, he pressed his chin to his chest, hands shoved in his pockets and flexing against the material of the coat he wore. “There is,” he hesitated. “But I don’t want to tell you. Not yet.” Sighing, I watched as his chest expanded, taking in the chilly air around us. “I know that’s not fair and I’m a right bastard for not saying anything to you but–” he squeezed his eyes shut. “Never mind.”<</if>>
[[Let him keep his secrets. He’d tell me in time]]
[[Tell him he is worrying you]]
[[Push him a little]]
I thought about it. Truly though about it. When it all boiled down to the bare bones of the situation, and if Milo had had to make the decision I did tonight and choose the world over his friend's suffering, I don’t think I would have been able to look him in the eye after.
“Yes,” I confessed. “I would have been mad.” I didn’t feel great at confessing that, given that one person's suffering should never be held over the continuation of existence. But, I was beginning to think that these situations were far easier to make decisions on, when you didn’t know the people involved.
<<if $platonic == "true">>When I turned back towards Milo, I saw him staring at the lanterns. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> Milo’s head was tipped away from me as he stared at the lanterns.<</if>>“You made the right choice tonight, $name,” he said. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Something was wrong. I could see it in the way he held himself. This situation with Caliban meant so much more to him than I could even begin to fathom.
[[Let him keep his secrets. He’d tell me in time]]
[[Tell him he is worrying you]]
[[Push him a little]]
<<set $calibanmad to "true">>I thought about it. Truly though about it. When it all boiled down to the bare bones of the situation, and if Milo had had to make the decision I did tonight and chose the world over his friend's suffering, I don’t think I would have been mad. It was in all likelihood the right decision to make. Caliban meant something to me though, so in the face of it, I couldn’t make the tough decision. If it had been anyone else, I doubted the outcome would have been the same.
“No,” I confessed. “I wouldn’t have been mad.” How could I when it would potentially save so many.
<<if $platonic == "true">>When I turned back towards Milo, I saw him staring at the lanterns. <<elseif $miloro == "true">> Milo’s head was tipped away from me as he stared at the lanterns.<</if>>“You made the right choice tonight, $name,” he said. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Something was wrong. I could see it in the way he held himself. This situation with Caliban meant so much more to him than I could even begin to fathom.
[[Let him keep his secrets. He’d tell me in time]]
[[Tell him he is worrying you]]
[[Push him a little]]
<<set $calibanmad to "false">>He’d come to me. It was what I kept telling myself. It was something that he wanted to share, he would come to me. “I’m here if you ever need to talk,” I told him. “But I’m not pushing you into this.”
For a moment, his face was placid. A dam that had refused to break. But as the second ticked by I watched as he struggled with himself, clearly trying to hold back but no longer winning. I watched his face twist into something uncomfortable as he swallowed thickly, wetness seeping from his eyes. <<if $miloro == "true">> I wiped it away with my thumb. <</if>> “Milo?”
“Sorry,” he said, “Sorry. I uh–” Letting his head fall back against the wall, he blinked up at the frosted lanterns. “I saw Anemone. That’s where I was this morning. I went down to go and talk to her.”
“And what did she say?”
“Same thing you and Hazel told me. That she thinks she contacted…” he trailed off. “I tried to see if she could do it again, basically so I had proof she wasn’t a grifter or some shit, but she said he wasn’t there anymore. That he was either here in the market itself, or had fully moved on. The first thought I had was she was clearly a charlatan and obviously had screwed you two over but she seems like a sweet person and my gut is saying that she wouldn’t do that.” It was clear that that notion alone pissed him off. He had been hoping for deceit.
“So now what?” I asked.
He laughed, a bit hysterically. “I don’t know. I actually don’t know.”
[[What scares you about him possibly coming back?]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[What does it mean for you and I if he is back?]]<</if>>
[[Do you still love him?]]
I didn’t want to push him if he didn’t want to tell me, but at the same time, whatever it was he was keeping inside, was hurting him. I didn’t want to stand by and watch him be hurt any further. “Milo,” I started gently. “You’re worrying me.”
For a moment, his face was placid. A dam that had refused to break. But as the second ticked by I watched as he struggled with himself, clearly trying to hold back but no longer winning. I watched his face twist into something uncomfortable as he swallowed thickly, wetness seeping from his eyes. <<if $miloro == "true">> I wiped it away with my thumb. <</if>> “Milo?”
“Sorry,” he said, “Sorry. I uh–” Letting his head fall back against the wall, he blinked up at the frosted lanterns. “I saw Anemone. That’s where I was this morning. I went down to go and talk to her.”
“And what did she say?”
“Same thing you and Hazel told me. That she thinks she contacted…” he trailed off. “I tried to see if she could do it again, basically so I had proof she wasn’t a grifter or some shit, but she said he wasn’t there anymore. That he was either here in the market itself, or had fully moved on. The first thought I had was she was clearly a charlatan and obviously had screwed you two over but she seems like a sweet person and my gut is saying that she wouldn’t do that.” It was clear that that notion alone pissed him off. He had been hoping for deceit.
“So now what?” I asked.
He laughed, a bit hysterically. “I don’t know. I actually don’t know.”
[[What scares you about him possibly coming back?]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[What does it mean for you and I if he is back?]]<</if>>
[[Do you still love him?]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>Reaching up, I cupped his face. His hands were still firmly entrenched in his pockets, arms encircling me. <<elseif $platonic == "true">>I made sure to turn my body towards him, looking at him more fully.<</if>> “What is it?” I asked him gently, pushing him a little. “Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”
For a moment, his face was placid. A dam that had refused to break. But as the seconds ticked by I watched as he struggled with himself, clearly trying to hold back but no longer winning. I watched his face twist into something uncomfortable as he swallowed thickly, wetness seeping from his eyes. <<if $miloro == "true">> I wiped it away with my thumb. <</if>> “Milo?”
“Sorry,” he said, “Sorry. I uh–” Letting his head fall back against the wall, he blinked up at the frosted lanterns. “I saw Anemone. That’s where I was this morning. I went down to go and talk to her.”
“And what did she say?”
“Same thing you and Hazel told me. That she thinks she contacted…” he trailed off. “I tried to see if she could do it again, basically so I had proof she wasn’t a grifter or some shit, but she said he wasn’t there anymore. That he was either here in the market itself, or had fully moved on. The first thought I had was she was clearly a charlatan and obviously had screwed you two over but she seems like a sweet person and my gut is saying that she wouldn’t do that.” It was clear that that notion alone pissed him off. He had been hoping for deceit.
“So now what?” I asked.
He laughed, a bit hysterically. “I don’t know. I actually don’t know.”
[[What scares you about him possibly coming back?]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[What does it mean for you and I if he is back?]]<</if>>
[[Do you still love him?]]
It was a topic we had vaguely been avoiding. Both of us knew it. Now, alone in the alley, I figured it might be time to tentatively broach it. “What scares you about the possibility of him returning?” Because that’s what it was coming down to. For whatever reason, Milo was terrified of Malcolm’s return and it felt off somehow. Given what I knew, I would have thought he would have been happy. Like Hazel said, however, Milo had never been one to believe in him returning to begin with.
For a moment, Milo looked like he wasn’t going to answer. I was nearly certain that he was going to shrug me away like he had all the times before when it came even remotely close to touching on the conversation of Malcolm. But this time, he surprised me.
“He died for Hazel and I,” Milo said with a deep expulsion of breath. “I made a lot of mistakes that led up to the moment but when it all comes down to it, Malcolm was only there in the apothecary that day to fix my mistakes. And I know, without an ounce of doubt in my mind, he would have wanted me to take the time I was given and do something with my life. Get out of here. But nothing has changed. I’m still doing my thing, taking what I want and when I want, and still living in that shitty distillery across town because I can’t be bothered to do anything more.” Swallowing thickly, he let out a shaky breath and laughed. His cheeks became wet as he shivered in the cold. “I don’t think he’s going to like the person I became,” he whispered.
[[You are not a disappointment and anyone that thinks you are is undeserving of you]]
[[I don’t know much about him but I don’t think he will think that]]
[[I think this might be more about what you think of yourself than what he is going to think of you]]It was a topic we had vaguely been avoiding. Both of us knew it. Now, alone in the alley, I figured it might be time to tentatively broach it. “What does it mean for you and I if he comes back?”
He frowned, looking at me in clear confusion. “Meaning?”
I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. It didn’t matter how I felt about the situation, this was never going to be an easy conversation to have. “This,” I said gesturing between us. “All of this. Most people don’t have to deal with their lover’s old lover, coming back from the dead.”
He startled at that but laughed. It was a short burst of laughter but it was one that prompted him to pull me close all that same. “Is that what’s worrying you?”
“I don’t know if I’d say worry but it’s on my mind,” I groused.
“$name, if you’re wondering if I’m going to walk out the door just because…” he sighed. “Look. The future is not exactly clear. I mean, the lanterns could go dark tomorrow, for all I know and we’ll freeze to death in this place.” I curled closer to him, as if to smother out the very notion of that idea. “But in a perfect world, I’m not choosing someone over you,” he said.
“So you’re choosing me over him?” I asked curiously.
“I didn’t say that either. I’m saying that Malcolm and I are not what's in front of me. We are. And to think that him coming back suddenly means I’m jumping into his bed? Well, all I can say is you don’t know him all that well.”
It was a vague answer. I knew it was. It assuaged only a small bit of what I was feeling. But he was right. Malcolm was a what if. And not once had Milo ever dealt in ‘what if’s’.
“Look,” he said gently. “I- I’m scared. If you want the truth of it all, I’m fucking terrified.” Swallowing thickly, he let out a shaky breath and laughed. His cheeks became wet as he shivered in the cold. “I don’t think he’s going to like the person I became,” he whispered. “He died for Hazel and I, and I think I’ll just be a disappointment in the end. Take love out of it. I respected him and that’s what scares the shit out of me.”
[[You are not a disappointment and anyone that thinks you are is undeserving of you]]
[[I don’t know much about him but I don’t think he will think that]]
[[I think this might be more about what you think of yourself than what he is going to think of you]]
“Milo,” I started. “Do you still love him?”
Whatever he thought I was going to say or ask, that was obviously not it. <<if $miloro == "true">>He startled against me, staring down at me with the most honest eyes I think I had seen on him. <<elseif $platonic == "true">>He startled, staring at me with the most honest eyes I think I had seen on him.<</if>> It was clear that the question was one he hadn’t even contemplated. Whether he still loved Malcolm was something that he never had to consider.
“I- I don’t know. And I really am not trying to evade the question, I just really don’t know. I love what him and I had. I sometimes love who we were. But to think that he can even be back is such a concept that my head just can’t wrap around. This entire thing isn’t about me loving him or not. It’s about knowing that he might be back and not knowing what that means in the end.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>Wrapping his arms tighter around me, he widened his stance. He was trying to pull me as close to him as possible, the heat from his body warming us in the otherwise chilly hair as puffs of our breath mingled between us. <<elseif $platonic == "true">> Stepping a bit closer to me, he stomped his feet on the ground. The cold was circling and was starting to sink into our bones. <</if>>
“I’m scared,” he admitted.
“Of what?”
“Of him actually being back. Because if he is back, I’m going to have to see him again.”
It was my turn for surprise. It hadn’t been what I thought the problem was. “What’s so scary about that?”
Swallowing thickly, he let out a shaky breath and laughed. His cheeks became wet as he shivered in the cold. “I don’t think he’s going to like the person I became,” he whispered. “He died for Hazel and I, and I think I’ll just be a disappointment in the end.”
[[You are not a disappointment and anyone that thinks you are is undeserving of you]]
[[I don’t know much about him but I don’t think he will think that]]
[[I think this might be more about what you think of yourself than what he is going to think of you]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>Pulling him close, I threaded my fingers through the curled locks of his hair. They were longer now and I could feel the stubble across his cheek. “You are not a disappointment,” I told him firmly. “And anyone that thinks you are is undeserving of you.”
“You may change your mind,” he said sadly.
I shook my head. “I won’t.”
He buried himself closer, pushing his face into my neck and breathing me in. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he splayed them across my back. We stood there for a moment, holding each other as a few people passed by. Above the air swirled in frost, coating the outer layer of our clothes and the tips of our hair.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You went through a lot of shit and I’m sitting here crying about me.” Pulling back, he tried to give me a smile, but it came out tight and tired. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> Turning to stand in front of him, I looked at him as caringly as I could, making sure I was close enough for comfort but not crowding him all the same. “You are not a disappointment,” I told him firmly. “And anyone that thinks you are is undeserving of you.”
“You may change your mind,” he said sadly.
I shook my head. “I won’t.”
He looked away, swiping a hand across his face. I could see the way they shook. When he didn’t deny any of it, my stomach plummeted. Milo saw himself as a disappointment. Malcolm was just his excuse to feel that fear.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a moment. “You went through a lot of shit today and I’m sitting here crying about me.” He tried to smile, but it came out tight and tired instead.
<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">> Turning to stand in front of him, I looked at him as caringly as I could, making sure I was close enough for comfort but not crowding him all the same. “You are not a disappointment,” I told him firmly. “And anyone that thinks you are is undeserving of you.”
“You may change your mind,” he said sadly.
I shook my head. “I won’t.”
He looked away, swiping a hand across his face. I could see the way they shook. When he didn’t deny any of it, my stomach plummeted. Milo saw himself as a disappointment. Malcolm was just his excuse to feel that fear.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a moment. “You went through a lot of shit today and I’m sitting here crying about me.” He tried to smile, but it came out tight and tired instead.<</if>>
[[I’m worried about you]]
[[We’re here for each other]]
[[It’s not exactly how I wanted to spend the end of my night, no]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>Pulling him close, I threaded my fingers through the curled locks of his hair. They were longer now and I could feel the stubble across his cheek. “I don’t know much about him,” I whispered. “But I don’t think he will think that.” If he was anything like Hazel, I knew he wouldn’t. No one could look at Milo and be disappointed in him simply for still being here. This had far more to do with Milo’s guilt, than anything else. Milo was the only one who couldn’t see it.
He buried himself closer, pushing his face into my neck and breathing me in. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he splayed them across my back. We stood there for a moment, holding each other as a few people passed by. Above the air swirled in frost, coating the outer layer of our clothes and the tips of our hair.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You went through a lot of shit and I’m sitting here crying about me.” Pulling back, he tried to give me a smile, but it came out tight and tired. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> Turning to stand in front of him, I looked at him as caringly as I could, making sure I was close enough for comfort but not crowding him all the same. “I don’t know much about him,” I whispered. “But I don’t think he will think that.” If he was anything like Hazel, I knew he wouldn’t. No one could look at Milo and be disappointed in him simply for still being here. This had far more to do with Milo’s guilt, than anything else. Milo was the only one who couldn’t see it.
He looked away, swiping a hand across his face. I could see the way they shook. When he didn’t deny any of it, my stomach plummeted. Milo saw himself as a disappointment. Malcolm was just his excuse to feel that fear.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a moment. “You went through a lot of shit today and I’m sitting here crying about me.” He tried to smile, but it came out tight and tired instead. <</if>>
[[I’m worried about you]]
[[We’re here for each other]]
[[It’s not exactly how I wanted to spend the end of my night, no]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>Pulling him close, I threaded my fingers through the curled locks of his hair. They were longer now and I could feel the stubble across his cheek. “Milo, this fear of yours, I don’t think it has anything to do with Malcolm,” I said gently. “But there is obviously something going on with you that you don’t like. This is more about you than it is about him.” When he didn’t deny any of it, my stomach plummeted. Milo saw himself as a disappointment. Malcolm was just his excuse to feel that fear.
He buried himself closer, pushing his face into my neck and breathing me in. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he splayed them across my back. We stood there for a moment, holding each other as a few people passed by. Above the air swirled in frost, coating the outer layer of our clothes and the tips of our hair.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You went through a lot of shit and I’m sitting here crying about me.” Pulling back, he tried to give me a smile, but it came out tight and tired. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> Turning to stand in front of him, I looked at him as caringly as I could, making sure I was close enough for comfort but not crowding him all the same. “Milo, this fear of yours, I don’t think it has anything to do with Malcolm,” I said gently. “But there is obviously something going on with you that you don’t like. This is more about you than it is about him.”
He looked away, swiping a hand across his face. I could see the way they shook. When he didn’t deny any of it, my stomach plummeted. Milo saw himself as a disappointment. Malcolm was just his excuse to feel that fear.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a moment. “You went through a lot of shit today and I’m sitting here crying about me.” He tried to smile, but it came out tight and tired instead. <</if>>
[[I’m worried about you]]
[[We’re here for each other]]
[[It’s not exactly how I wanted to spend the end of my night, no]]
“I’m worried about you,” I told him.
“Don’t be.”
“You are keeping things from me, though, and now with everything with Malcolm…”
<<if $miloro == "true">>Shuffling forward, so our legs intertwined, he brushed his knuckles across the tops of my cheek. “Look, the thing that’s going on with me, it’ll all be over soon. But no matter how it shakes out, I do want you to know something. The last few months have been more that I ever thought. I never expected to meet someone like you and I am angry that I didn’t get to meet you much earlier in my life. I like you, $name. I really like you. And I don’t know what that’s going to mean in the future but you have made me laugh and smile more than I thought possible and you have shown me that I can fall in– that I’m not incapable of caring for someone again.”
[[I like you too]]
[[I love you]]
[[You’re not ready to say anything yet]] <<elseif $miloro == "false">>Pushing off the wall, Milo motioned for me to follow him. I fell in stride right beside him, thankful to be moving again as the wind began to whip through the alleys. “Look, the thing that’s going on with me, it’ll all be over soon,” he said as we walked. “But no matter how it shakes out, I do want you to know something. I am always going to be grateful that I got to spend time with you. That we became friends. I wish sometimes things could be different. That we maybe didn’t have to do this entire Baron thing or deal with the fucking gates but in the end of it all, you are someone I never expected to meet. So thank you for being you, okay?”
“Thank you for being you, too,” I told him with a faint smile.
Speeding up, desperate to get out of the cold, the two of us made a few more turns until the streets became brighter and faint music could be heard in the background. “Now, you have had a shit day. Let’s go to a tavern and get a drink and something to eat. We can sit in front of the fire and watch goblins put on a show.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Tumble Tavern. It’s ran by a bunch of hobbes and it’s probably the strangest and best little thing to come out of the goblin court by far. Though don’t drink the ale. Only drink off their imports menu. The local ale of theirs is nothing but sparkling mineral water that people bathe in regularly down in the tunnels.”
“That’s can’t be true.”
“I really don’t know, but there is no way I’m going to chance it.”
He bumped his shoulder against mine as we walked through the market. The sorrow that had been painted across his face was slowly slipping away as he continued to talk and I knew, that no matter what, I would always remember nights like these. Wandering beneath a group of paper lanterns, and feeling more alive than I ever had before.
It was the balm that I needed and hopefully a precursor of the good to come.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<</if>>I waved the worry off. “We’re here for each other,” I told him firmly. “Just because I had a shitty day doesn’t mean you can’t either.”
He raised a brow to me. “I’d argue that your day was a bit more than just ‘shitty’.”
The reality was, I just didn’t want to think of it right now.
<<if $miloro == "true">>Shuffling forward, so our legs intertwined, he brushed his knuckles across the tops of my cheek. “Look, the thing that’s going on with me, it’ll all be over soon. But no matter how it shakes out, I do want you to know something. The last few months have been more that I ever thought. I never expected to meet someone like you and I am angry that I didn’t get to meet you much earlier in my life. I like you, $name. I really like you. And I don’t know what that’s going to mean in the future but you have made me laugh and smile more than I thought possible and you have shown me that I can fall in– that I’m not incapable of caring for someone again.”
[[I like you too]]
[[I love you]]
[[You’re not ready to say anything yet]] <<elseif $miloro == "false">>Pushing off the wall, Milo motioned for me to follow him. I fell in stride right beside him, thankful to be moving again as the wind began to whip through the alleys. “Look, the thing that’s going on with me, it’ll all be over soon,” he said as we walked. “But no matter how it shakes out, I do want you to know something. I am always going to be grateful that I got to spend time with you. That we became friends. I wish sometimes things could be different. That we maybe didn’t have to do this entire Baron thing or deal with the fucking gates but in the end of it all, you are someone I never expected to meet. So thank you for being you, okay?”
“Thank you for being you, too,” I told him with a faint smile.
Speeding up, desperate to get out of the cold, the two of us made a few more turns until the streets became brighter and faint music could be heard in the background. “Now, you have had a shit day. Let’s go to a tavern and get a drink and something to eat. We can sit in front of the fire and watch goblins put on a show.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Tumble Tavern. It’s ran by a bunch of hobbes and it’s probably the strangest and best little thing to come out of the goblin court by far. Though don’t drink the ale. Only drink off their imports menu. The local ale of theirs is nothing but sparkling mineral water that people bathe in regularly down in the tunnels.”
“That’s can’t be true.”
“I really don’t know, but there is no way I’m going to chance it.”
He bumped his shoulder against mine as we walked through the market. The sorrow that had been painted across his face was slowly slipping away as he continued to talk and I knew, that no matter what, I would always remember nights like these. Wandering beneath a group of paper lanterns, and feeling more alive than I ever had before.
It was the balm that I needed and hopefully a precursor of the good to come.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<</if>>“It’s not how I wanted to spend the end of my night, no,” I told him. “But I started this and honestly, you needed to get this off your chest as much as I needed to probably hear it.”
“Timing isn't my strong suit,” he said with a self deprecating grin.
“Doesn’t look like it, no.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>Shuffling forward, so our legs intertwined, he brushed his knuckles across the tops of my cheek. “Look, the thing that’s going on with me, it’ll all be over soon. But no matter how it shakes out, I do want you to know something. The last few months have been more than I ever thought. I never expected to meet someone like you and I am angry that I didn’t get to meet you much earlier in my life. I like you, $name. I really like you. And I don’t know what that’s going to mean in the future but you have made me laugh and smile more than I thought possible and you have shown me that I can fall in– that I’m not incapable of caring for someone again.”
[[I like you too]]
[[I love you]]
[[You’re not ready to say anything yet]] <<elseif $miloro == "false">>Pushing off the wall, Milo motioned for me to follow him. I fell in stride right beside him, thankful to be moving again as the wind began to whip through the alleys. “Look, the thing that’s going on with me, it’ll all be over soon,” he said as we walked. “But no matter how it shakes out, I do want you to know something. I am always going to be grateful that I got to spend time with you. That we became friends. I wish sometimes things could be different. That we maybe didn’t have to do this entire Baron thing or deal with the fucking gates but in the end of it all, you are someone I never expected to meet. So thank you for being you, okay?”
“Thank you for being you, too,” I told him with a faint smile.
Speeding up, desperate to get out of the cold, the two of us made a few more turns until the streets became brighter and faint music could be heard in the background. “Now, you have had a shit day. Let’s go to a tavern and get a drink and something to eat. We can sit in front of the fire and watch goblins put on a show.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Tumble Tavern. It’s ran by a bunch of hobbes and it’s probably the strangest and best little thing to come out of the goblin court by far. Though don’t drink the ale. Only drink off their imports menu. The local ale of theirs is nothing but sparkling mineral water that people bathe in regularly down in the tunnels.”
“That’s can’t be true.”
“I really don’t know, but there is no way I’m going to chance it.”
He bumped his shoulder against mine as we walked through the market. The sorrow that had been painted across his face was slowly slipping away as he continued to talk and I knew, that no matter what, I would always remember nights like these. Wandering beneath a group of paper lanterns, and feeling more alive than I ever had before.
It was the balm that I needed and hopefully a precursor of the good to come.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<</if>>“I like–” He stopped me. With his lips pressed to mine, he stopped me completely. They were soft against my own, the air chilled around us, biting our cheeks. Our breath was warm as it mingled and as he pulled away, it was with a sigh.
“I’m not ready to hear you say it yet,” he whispered. “But I know. Now,” Pulling away, he held onto my hand. “My ass is numb from leaning against the wall. It’s freezing. You have had a shit day. Let’s go to a tavern and get a drink and something to eat. We can sit in front of the fire and watch goblins put on a show.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Tumble Tavern. It’s ran by a bunch of hobbes and it’s probably the strangest and best little thing to come out of the goblin court by far. Though don’t drink the ale. Only drink off their imports menu. The local ale of theirs is nothing but sparkling mineral water that people bathe in regularly down in the tunnels.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I really don’t know, but there is no way I’m going to chance it.”
Tugging me, we walked hand in hand through the market, and I felt his fingers grip in mine. The sorrow that had been painted across his face was slowly slipping away as he continued to talk and I knew, that no matter what, I would always remember nights like these. Wandering beneath a group of paper lanterns, holding his hand, and feeling more alive than I ever had before.
It was the balm that I needed and hopefully a precursor of the good to come.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>“I lo–” He stopped me. With his lips pressed to mine, he stopped me completely. They were soft against my own, the air chilled around us, biting our cheeks. Our breath was warm as it mingled and as he pulled away, it was with a sigh.
“I’m not ready to hear you say it yet,” he whispered. “But I know. Now,” Pulling away, he held onto my hand. “My ass is numb from leaning against the wall. It’s freezing. You have had a shit day. Let’s go to a tavern and get a drink and something to eat. We can sit in front of the fire and watch goblins put on a show.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Tumble Tavern. It’s ran by a bunch of hobbes and it’s probably the strangest and best little thing to come out of the goblin court by far. Though don’t drink the ale. Only drink off their imports menu. The local ale of theirs is nothing but sparkling mineral water that people bathe in regularly down in the tunnels.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I really don’t know, but there is no way I’m going to chance it.”
Tugging me, we walked hand in hand through the market, and I felt his fingers grip in mine. The sorrow that had been painted across his face was slowly slipping away as he continued to talk and I knew, that no matter what, I would always remember nights like these. Wandering beneath a group of paper lanterns, holding his hand, and feeling more alive than I ever had before.
It was the balm that I needed and hopefully a precursor of the good to come.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>I wasn’t ready. Not yet. But somehow, I knew that it was appreciated all the same. Milo looked more relieved than before, the weight slowly lifting from his shoulders as he finally spoke some of the words that had been pulsing like a sickness throughout his veins.
“Now,” Pulling away, he held onto my hand. “My ass is numb from leaning against the wall. It’s freezing. You have had a shit day. Let’s go to a tavern and get a drink and something to eat. We can sit in front of the fire and watch goblins put on a show.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Tumble Tavern. It’s ran by a bunch of hobbes and it’s probably the strangest and best little thing to come out of the goblin court by far. Though don’t drink the ale. Only drink off their imports menu. The local ale of theirs is nothing but sparkling mineral water that people bathe in regularly down in the tunnels.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I really don’t know, but there is no way I’m going to chance it.”
Tugging me, we walked hand in hand through the market, and I felt his fingers grip in mine. The sorrow that had been painted across his face was slowly slipping away as he continued to talk and I knew, that no matter what, I would always remember nights like these. Wandering beneath a group of paper lanterns, holding his hand, and feeling more alive than I ever had before.
It was the balm that I needed and hopefully a precursor of the good to come.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "false">>“I don’t know,” I said quickly, my fear and frustration mounting. “I didn’t know who to believe in this and so I just acted. Everything happened so incredibly fast, Hazel. I didn’t know what to do.”
“You should have talked it out with one of us,” she said. “Or- or… I don’t know but it wasn’t that. He was so scared, $name. So scared. I-” she shook her head. “I didn’t like seeing that. I didn’t want to come and see that.”
“I know,” I told her. “I wanted you by my side tonight. I was scared too, Hazel. I just wanted you there.”
Her face didn’t soften at my words. If anything, her brow became more furrowed. The look concerned me and sent my gut rolling with anxiety.
Silently, we stood in the alley for a long moment, the lanterns above us flickering. I didn’t look at them, but Hazel eyed them concerned. Arms still crossed in front of her chest, she nodded towards the direction of home.
We walked in silence. Patrons we passed gave us a wide berth and the ghosts were still inactive, hiding away or having moved on due to the cold. When we reached the apothecary, she unlocked it, stepping inside. Without even a flick of her hand, the hearth lit up with an evening fire. Mr. Billows came up, meowing at her questioningly. Hazel paid him no mind, going behind the counter and beginning to pull down some jars.
“What are you doing?”
She slammed a few more down, looking angry at herself as much as she was the situation. “Work.”
“Can I help? Are we behind on orders?”
No sooner did I have the words out of my mouth did she tumble into her own. “I want to be alone tonight,” she said. “I understand what you did and I am glad that you set him free but,” tipping her head upwards, she stared into my eyes. “I told you, $name. I told you I didn’t want to go. And you still made me anyway.”
“Hazel…”
“No.” Holding up a hand, she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. Just please, respect my wishes tonight and leave me alone.”
I stared at her. <<if $hazelro == "true">> I wanted to go up to her. Kiss her. Hold her. Feel her against me after the long night. But I knew it would make it worse. <</if>> Desperately, I scrambled for something to tell her. As if there were words that would make up for what I had done earlier. Forcing her to tag along to something she clearly shouldn’t have been around for. I wondered how differently things would be now if I came home, looking for comfort from her instead.
Head down, I felt my heart beat loudly against my chest. “I’m sorry,” I told her.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she told me. Turning, she made her way to the back storeroom. I knew that meant she would be out in her garden tonight, headed down towards the creek and the small hut that her and Malcolm had made. Before she slipped into the room, she looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes wet with tears. “You shouldn’t have made me go, $name. It wasn’t okay.”
Shutting the door behind her, I felt the cold press in all around me. I was left alone, not even Billows in the room now. Just me and the tearful image of Hazel, and the man that I had nearly doomed tonight.
Heart aching, I turned to walk upstairs. Behind me, the fire died out.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "true">>“It wasn’t an easy decision, Hazel,” I told her. “I didn’t enjoy a second of what I had to do but I needed to be sure. I needed to see Caliban and talk to him because whether we like it or not, letting him go means we are not getting the Baron's favor. The one thing we are trying so desperately to get.”
“We could have figured something else out,” she said angrily. “Belladonna would have something up her sleeve for this scenario. I know she would.”
“And that’s what I’m hoping for now,” I insisted. “Because otherwise, by letting Caliban go tonight, we may have doomed the entire market.”
Silently, we stood in the alley for a long moment, the lanterns above us flickering. I didn’t look at them, but Hazel eyed them concerned. Arms still crossed in front of her chest, she nodded towards the direction of home.
We walked in silence. Patrons we passed gave us a wide berth and the ghosts were still inactive, hiding away or having moved on due to the cold. When we reached the apothecary, she unlocked it, stepping inside. Without even a flick of her hand, the hearth lit up with an evening fire. Mr. Billows came up, meowing at her questioningly. Hazel paid him no mind, going behind the counter and beginning to pull down some jars.
“What are you doing?”
She slammed a few more down, looking angry at herself as much as she was the situation. “Work.”
“Can I help? Are we behind on orders?”
No sooner did I have the words out of my mouth did she tumble into her own. “I want to be alone tonight,” she said. “I understand what you did and I am glad that you set him free but,” tipping her head upwards, she stared into my eyes. “I told you, $name. I told you I didn’t want to go. And you still made me anyway.”
“Hazel…”
“No.” Holding up a hand, she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. Just please, respect my wishes tonight and leave me alone.”
I stared at her. <<if $hazelro == "true">> I wanted to go up to her. Kiss her. Hold her. Feel her against me after the long night. But I knew it would make it worse. <</if>> Desperately, I scrambled for something to tell her. As if there were words that would make up for what I had done earlier. Forcing her to tag along to something she clearly shouldn’t have been around for. I wondered how differently things would be now if I came home, looking for comfort from her instead.
Head down, I felt my heart beat loudly against my chest. “I’m sorry,” I told her.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she told me. Turning, she made her way to the back storeroom. I knew that meant she would be out in her garden tonight, headed down towards the creek and the small hut that her and Malcolm had made. Before she slipped into the room, she looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes wet with tears. “You shouldn’t have made me go, $name. It wasn’t okay.”
Shutting the door behind her, I felt the cold press in all around me. I was left alone, not even Billows in the room now. Just me and the tearful image of Hazel, and the man that I had nearly doomed tonight.
Heart aching, I turned to walk upstairs. Behind me, the fire died out.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "true">>“Odin is a Baron of the Night Market,” I told her. “I was taken to him with a blink of an eye. I was there alone. I didn’t know if he was dangerous or not. I wasn’t going to tell him no when he could have killed me on the spot. I don’t know everything these Barons can do. But I’m not reckless enough to find out.”
She looked mad still, her cheeks still dark with anger, but she looked as if she at least understood that sentiment. You didn’t mess with powerful things just for fun. Not unless you had a way to back yourself up.
“Why didn’t you free him from the beginning though?” she asked, tone slightly calmer.
I shook my head. “Because I didn’t know what to do. Odin can still come after me for this. He can still have my head for not listening.”
“You know none of us would let that happen.”
“They’re Barons. You might not get a choice,” I told her.
Silently, we stood in the alley for a long moment, the lanterns above us flickering. I didn’t look at them, but Hazel eyed them concerned. Arms still crossed in front of her chest, she nodded towards the direction of home.
We walked in silence. Patrons we passed gave us a wide berth and the ghosts were still inactive, hiding away or having moved on due to the cold. When we reached the apothecary, she unlocked it, stepping inside. Without even a flick of her hand, the hearth lit up with an evening fire. Mr. Billows came up, meowing at her questionainly. Hazel paid him no mind, going behind the counter and beginning to pull down some jars.
“What are you doing?”
She slammed a few more down, looking angry at herself as much as she was the situation. “Work.”
“Can I help? Are we behind on orders?”
No sooner did I have the words out of my mouth did she tumble into her own. “I want to be alone tonight,” she said. “I understand what you did and I am glad that you set him free but,” tipping her head upwards, she stared into my eyes. “I told you, $name. I told you I didn’t want to go. And you still made me anyway.”
“Hazel…”
“No.” Holding up a hand, she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. Just please, respect my wishes tonight and leave me alone.”
I stared at her. <<if $hazelro == "true">> I wanted to go up to her. Kiss her. Hold her. Feel her against me after the long night. But I knew it would make it worse. <</if>> Desperately, I scrambled for something to tell her. As if there were words that would make up for what I had done earlier. Forcing her to tag along to something she clearly shouldn’t have been around for. I wondered how differently things would be now if I came home, looking for comfort from her instead.
Head down, I felt my heart beat loudly against my chest. “I’m sorry,” I told her.
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she told me. Turning, she made her way to the back storeroom. I knew that meant she would be out in her garden tonight, headed down towards the creek and the small hut that her and Malcolm had made. Before she slipped into the room, she looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes wet with tears. “You shouldn’t have made me go, $name. It wasn’t okay.”
Shutting the door behind her, I felt the cold press in all around me. I was left alone, not even Billows in the room now. Just me and the tearful image of Hazel, and the man that I had nearly doomed tonight.
Heart aching, I turned to walk upstairs. Behind me, the fire died out.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "true">>“I feel like the world is resting completely on my shoulders and it is terrifying,” I confessed. I couldn’t quite pinpoint when this responsibility had landed to me, someone that was supposed to be new to the market. Someone who didn’t even know the ins and outs of the world like everyone living here did. But, it had. There was help and there were people willing to lift me up, but the responsibility of the Baron’s, was on me.
“I wish it could be different,” Hazel whispered. “And maybe we should look into it being different. Maybe we jumped into this and we need to take a step back and figure something else out.”
I shut my eyes. It was a nice sentiment, but I had a feeling that whatever journey we were now on, was hard pressed to be stopped.
“$name, what can I do for you?”
My eyes locked with her beautiful green-gold gaze and I felt the shudder in my heart begin to calm. There was no way of knowing what the future was going to bring. What it would mean for me. For her. What the Barons held for us next. For all I knew, the favors we had gotten so far were fakes and this was all a sham to begin with.
But Hazel was here.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> She was right in front of me.
And I wanted to hold her close.
“Just stay with me tonight?” I asked gently.
Tipping her head forward, she pressed it to mine. “I will stay with you forever.” <<elseif $hazelro == "false">> She was the friend that was by my side no matter what and I knew, no matter how dark things became, she would always be here.
“Just stay with me tonight?” I asked her gently. I didn’t want to be alone.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. And above everything else, I believed her.<</if>>
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "false">>“It feels like I can’t make any of the right decisions,” I confessed. “Whatever I do, whatever decisions I make, even when I go into them with the best intentions, something feels wrong about it.”
“The hardest decisions often times live in a realm of grey,” Hazel said gently. “If your decisions were easy, I think anyone could make them.”
“But why me?” I asked, blinking at her. I could feel my chest ache with the weight of my emotions. Why did it fall on me to put a stop to the markets demise?
“I wish I knew,” Hazel said, tears in her eyes. It was clear that if she could figure out a way, she would take this from me. She would be the one standing between me and the storm, if only she had the confidence or belief she could do so. But, like me, Hazel was just as helpless. Oddly, there was comfort in that.
My eyes locked with her beautiful green-gold gaze and I felt the shudder in my heart begin to calm. There was no way of knowing what the future was going to bring. What it would mean for me. For her. What the Barons held for us next. For all I knew, the favors we had gotten so far were fakes and this was all a sham to begin with.
But Hazel was here.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> She was right in front of me.
And I wanted to hold her close.
“Just stay with me tonight?” I asked gently.
Tipping her head forward, she pressed it to mine. “I will stay with you forever.” <<elseif $hazelro == "false">> She was the friend that was by my side no matter what and I knew, no matter how dark things became, she would always be here.
“Just stay with me tonight?” I asked her gently. I didn’t want to be alone.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. And above everything else, I believed her.<</if>>
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "false">>“What do we do next?” I asked her. I felt lost. The world around me had been trying to push me into oblivion from the day I had fallen among the cobblestone streets. I just needed an anchor. Something to call me back home. But I didn’t know what that was supposed to be.
“I take care of you,” Hazel whispered, snapping my lifeline into place. “You let me take care of you.” <<if $hazelro == "true">> Holding both my hands within hers, Hazel placed gentle kisses against curled finger. <<elseif $hazelro == "false">> She had tea and food and soft blankets ready to comfort me. I had a feeling she had gathered them the second I had left.<</if>> “I cannot pretend to know what all you went through tonight and I am forever grateful that you listened to me when I said I couldn’t go with you. So, in return, I am here. In whatever capacity you need from me.”
My eyes locked with her beautiful green-gold gaze and I felt the shudder in my heart begin to calm. There was no way of knowing what the future was going to bring. What it would mean for me. For her. What the Barons held for us next. For all I knew, the favors we had gotten so far were fakes and this was all a sham to begin with.
But Hazel was here.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> She was right in front of me.
And I wanted to hold her close.
“Just stay with me tonight?” I asked gently.
Tipping her head forward, she pressed it to mine. “I will stay with you forever.” <<elseif $hazelro == "false">> She was the friend that was by my side no matter what and I knew, no matter how dark things became, she would always be here.
“Just stay with me tonight?” I asked her gently. I didn’t want to be alone.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. And above everything else, I believed her.<</if>>
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $hazelbreakup to "false">>Belladonna led me through a road that led under a stone bridge and towards a small boggy area of the Night Market where the grass jutted upwards in lush green plumes while the water beneath was murky with mud. Woven wood paths led through the wettest part of the district, meandering by large open concept huts where I could see individuals milling about, towels around their shoulders. When Belladonna stepped up to one in particular, several huts down, I noticed it had no one milling about.
“Full treatment, please,” Belladonna said to the woman at the counter. I stared at the two of them as they began conversing in low murmurs. There was a buzzing in my ear and I couldn’t tell if it was my own confusion or exhaustion that was starting to just get the better of me. Either way, when Belladonna led me to a private room, shutting the door behind us, I felt my body wish to curl in exhaustion.
“Alright, dear heart.” Turning, I saw Belladonna sitting on a small bench, one leg crossed over the other. There was a deep pit of mud in the center of the room, bubbling and smelling faintly of rosemary and mint. “After a day like today you will be detoxifying. There is no argument that will be entertained in this situation. However, I do wish to know where your head is at before we continue.”
She looked at me expectantly and I only blinked back at her. I didn’t understand the words she was now saying.
Sighing, Belladonna put on what I now knew as her ‘patient’ face. It was a less harsh look that filled her eyes, but her lips were still pursed with a sort of expectation. I would not get out of answering this.
[[You wish to cry]]
[[You feel heavy from the day's events]]
[[You are worried you made the wrong choice]]
Tears filled my eyes. I felt overwhelmed after the entirety of the day, my heart aching and cheeks wetting as I remembered how Caliban looked at me. Stared right through me as if I was just another person out there causing him pain. He had been such a comfort to me in the beginning and I had walked through those doors and didn’t immediately tell him to run.
As the tears escaped me, I felt the sob rip from my chest. Belladonna stared at me, the vision of her blurring as my tears continued to fall.
“You did what you thought was best, dear heart,” she said from across the room. I nodded my head, more in that way that didn’t quite understand what she was saying, but only nodding in an effort to have something to do.
“There is no one path in life. There are billions. Some better than others. But in the end, it never matters how you got to the end. Just that you did.”
I felt my heart clench at the sentiment. We needed the Barons favors so I could get the Gatekeepers name. Because of that, I had been willing to do whatever they said in hopes of achieving this goal. But I was playing their game. Operating by their own rules. I wasn’t doing what was best for anyone, at that point, except what was best for them.
Before I could say anything, Belladonna rose. “You,” she said firmly. “Are going to take a nice long soak in a bath. After a day like today, it is necessary. How would you like to proceed right now.”
“What do you mean?”
A wry grin spilled across her face. “Think of yourself as one of my clients.” Reaching forward, she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. It had gotten longer in the recent days. “After a day like today, I wish to spoil you.” Dropping her hands to her side, she became all business once more. “So, you have three options. <<if $belladonnaro == "true">> Option one. I turn away while you strip and get under that healing water before you, covering all the goods bits, and then I turn around and we have a lovely conversation.” She smiled as I swallowed, my skin feeling a bit heated. “Option two. I walk away and give you some much needed alone time. Or, and I do hope you will choose this one, option three. You let me get in there with you and let me take care of you, little muse.”
[[Option One]]
[[Option Two]]
[[Option Three]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "false">>Option one. I turn away while you strip and get under that healing water before you, and then I turn around and we have a lovely conversation. Option two. I walk away and give you some much-needed alone time. Or, option three. The two of us dip our feet in and order something bubbly to drink, alcoholic or not, and sit and chat about the mundane until you are feeling better. The choice is yours, dear heart.”
[[Option One|option one platonic]]
[[Option Two|option two platonic]]
[[Option Three|option three platonic]]<</if>>I felt my body slump. The entire day felt like an ever present weight on my shoulders, pressing down on me further and further until I felt choked. “Today was not my favorite,” I told her.
“No, I don’t suppose it would be. Though, I can tell you that I do not think the choice is as narrow as you seem to be viewing it. Angering a Baron was bound to happen. It was doubtful we were going to get through this with all the favors intact.”
“I thought that was the only way to get the Gatekeepers name?”
“Perhaps it is. But do you think this will be the only thing dear Odin needs done? The only thing we can do to gain what we wish? Opportunities come along often. You just need to know how and when to look for them. And by you, I mean me. Fret not, dear heart. I already expected these kinds of hiccups.”
I felt my heart clench at the sentiment. We needed the Barons favors so I could get the Gatekeepers name. Because of that, I had been willing to do whatever they said in hopes of achieving this goal. But I was playing their game. Operating by their own rules. I wasn’t doing what was best for anyone, at that point, except what was best for them.
Before I could say anything, Belladonna rose. “You,” she said firmly. “Are going to take a nice long soak in a bath. After a day like today, it is necessary. How would you like to proceed right now.”
“What do you mean?”
Before I could say anything, Belladonna rose. “You,” she said firmly. “Are going to take a nice long soak in a bath. After a day like today, it is necessary. How would you like to proceed right now.”
“What do you mean?”
A wry grin spilled across her face. “Think of yourself as one of my clients.” Reaching forward, she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. It had gotten longer in the recent days. “After a day like today, I wish to spoil you.” Dropping her hands to her side, she became all business once more. “So, you have three options. <<if $belladonnaro == "true">> Option one. I turn away while you strip and get under that healing water before you, covering all the goods bits, and then I turn around and we have a lovely conversation.” She smiled as I swallowed, my skin feeling a bit heated. “Option two. I walk away and give you some much needed alone time. Or, and I do hope you will choose this one, option three. You let me get in there with you and let me take care of you, little muse.”
[[Option One]]
[[Option Two]]
[[Option Three]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "false">>Option one. I turn away while you strip and get under that healing water before you, and then I turn around and we have a lovely conversation. Option two. I walk away and give you some much-needed alone time. Or, option three. The two of us dip our feet in and order something bubbly to drink, alcoholic or not, and sit and chat about the mundane until you are feeling better. The choice is yours, dear heart.”
[[Option One|option one platonic]]
[[Option Two|option two platonic]]
[[Option Three|option three platonic]]<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[Or, we could do something more]]<</if>>I swallowed. “What if I made the wrong choice?” I asked.
“Do you believe you made the wrong choice?”
“I– I made the choice that would help him. Save Caliban. I didn’t make the choice thought that saved all of this.” I motioned around me, trying to include the world in general. Death could be rapidly approaching all because I couldn’t bring myself to hurt someone I cared for.
With her head tipped to the side, Belladonna observed me softly. “Do you truly believe that we need all the Barons favors in order to succeed?” she asked.
“That’s what you’ve all told me.”
“But do you believe it’s the only option. That this world hinges on that alone?”
I stared at her, my mouth opening and closing slightly as I tried to find an answer to her question. There was so much I didn’t know about the world. I could only go off of what I had been told. But information was evolving. We were all learning. Perhaps I had been operating in a way that set everything in stone.
“Dear heart,” Belladonna said. “There is no one path in life. There are billions. Some better than others. But in the end, it never matters how you got to the end. Just that you did.”
I felt my heart clench at the sentiment. We needed the Barons favors so I could get the Gatekeepers name. Because of that, I had been willing to do whatever they said in hopes of achieving this goal. But I was playing their game. Operating by their own rules. I wasn’t do what was best for anyone, at that point, except what was best for them.
Before I could say anything, Belladonna rose. “You,” she said firmly. “Are going to take a nice long soak in a bath. After a day like today, it is necessary. How would you like to proceed right now.”
“What do you mean?”
A wry grin spilled across her face. “Think of yourself as one of my clients.” Reaching forward, she tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. It had gotten longer in the recent days. “After a day like today, I wish to spoil you.” Dropping her hands to her side, she became all business once more. “So, you have three options. <<if $belladonnaro == "true">> Option one. I turn away while you strip and get under that healing water before you, covering all the goods bits, and then I turn around and we have a lovely conversation.” She smiled as I swallowed, my skin feeling a bit heated. “Option two. I walk away and give you some much needed alone time. Or, and I do hope you will choose this one, option three. You let me get in there with you and let me take care of you, little muse.”
[[Option One]]
[[Option Two]]
[[Option Three]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "false">>Option one. I turn away while you strip and get under that healing water before you, and then I turn around and we have a lovely conversation. Option two. I walk away and give you some much-needed alone time. Or, option three. The two of us dip our feet in and order something bubbly to drink, alcoholic or not, and sit and chat about the mundane until you are feeling better. The choice is yours, dear heart.”
[[Option One|option one platonic]]
[[Option Two|option two platonic]]
[[Option Three|option three platonic]]<</if>>“Option one,” I said tiredly. I didn’t want to be left alone. Not now. While Belladonna and I didn’t spend a lot of time together, I found the presence of another comforting. I just wanted to sit in a room and let the day disappear from me. But I didn’t want to do it alone.
Without hesitation, she turned, showing me her back. Slowly, I stripped my clothes from me, stepping forward to the mud pool in front of me. Part of me was hesitant. It was mud after all. But it smelled absolutely delicious and ever since the Deep, my bones had been aching. Maybe Belladonna was right. A soak would do me more good than I probably knew.
The mud water itself was thick and cooling at the initial touch. It coated my legs as I stepped inside its depths, feeling a series of stone steps beneath my feet. As it crawled up my thighs, over my belly and chest, before setting at my neck and shoulders, I began to feel it leach something from my skin. As if every negative or bad thought that I had had in the last few weeks, years, lifetimes, was suddenly not a problem anymore.
I wasn’t even aware of the sigh that left my lips until I heard Belladonna laugh. “May I turn around now?”
I gave some sort of consent, though I wasn’t sure what, as my head tipped back to rest against a pillowed bed of moss that had somehow grown behind me.
“What is this place?” I asked. The substance around me was starting to heat up, pulling the aches from my muscles and replacing them with a deep warmth.
“One of the many bathes across the Night Market. There are different types you can take but I have always found when wishing for warmth, this is one of the best. Next to the magma baths, that is, but I am unsure yet if that is something you can survive.”
I looked up at her, cracking one eye open. “And you can?”
“Vampire perk,” she said. “We like the warmth and suck it in as if it were our blood. Leaves our skin all pink and flushed too. I’ve occasionally partaken in magma tonics just to give my cheeks the flush of life when I wish to go without rouge during the day.”
I didn’t know why but I found the detail comforting. It probably had to do more with the bath than anything else.
I didn’t know how much time went by. How long I soaked in the tub of mud. If it was even important to know. But what I did know, is I felt safe. Even after today, I felt safe. Turning, I looked at Belladonna. True to her word, she had just sat, allowing me to take the lead on what I needed.
[[You come off far scarier than you actually are, you know that right?]]
[[I don’t know much about vampires but you seem like an odd one]]
[[Thank you for taking me here. You somehow always know what people need]]
I looked at her tiredly. “Option two,” I told her. “It has nothing to do with you in general I just think I want to be alone after all that. Just for a bit.”
Belladonna was already heading towards the door before the words were completely out of my mouth. “The need to be alone is one I understand far more than you may know. I’ll be outside these doors if you change your mind and when you are ready, I will get you back to the apothecary.”
Slipping out into the main room, she shut the door behind her. The room itself was not silent, really. There was the soft sound of trickling water and a rustle of a breeze. I appreciated that the deathly grip of quiet was not looming in the corner.
Tiredly, I shucked off my clothes, slipping beneath the muddied waters. I felt a cooling sensation encase me for the first few moments as I settled beneath the murky substance, before it then heated, pulling toxins and every negative emotion I had from my bones, washing them away. I didn’t know how long the feeling would last, but I felt as if I were floating. Like what I had experienced, what was going to transpire, was nothing more than a soft dream somewhere along the horizon.
Sighing, I closed my eyes. Somewhere, the world started to swirl, and my body meshed within it. It bled together into the soft abyss until I was no more. I simply fell into the Night Market itself and was comforted by the surrounding warmth. It reminded me of a home I couldn’t remember. Of a soft blanket smelling of mint. And of a grandmother who I could no longer remember but loved just the same.
Sinking further beneath the water, I let the world pull me. And in the end, it was enough to warm me for the first time in days.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>I took in a shaky breath. “Option three,” I told her. The self-satisfied grin she flashed my way had heat pooling in my stomach instantly. Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she stepped close.
“Well?” she asked. The deep molten pools of her eyes traveled up and down my body, leaving a lick of fire in their wake.
“Well what?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry.
“Strip,” she ordered.
I felt a shiver roll up my spine and lightning hit my gut. Unconsciously, I reached for the ties of my clothes, undoing them one by one. Belladonna began circling me as each strip of fabric slipped from my skin, gliding down arms and legs, leaving me bare to her gaze.
Her lips brushed against my ear. “Such a good listener,” she said. “Pity. I was hoping I’d have to get out the paddle.”
I startled as she walked in front of me, her soft hands brushing up her own body to slip the slinky black straps of her dress down each arm. The lace puddled at her feet, revealing an expanse of unblemished skin, not a strip of underclothing in sight. Her breasts were full and heavy and yet somehow remained pert. A small cross was inked across the side of her breast, a black and binding stream of ink that stood starkly out against her pale skin. Turning, she stepped down into the water, each toe pointed before it disappeared beneath the surface. The rounded curve of her hips lead up into the defined lines of her back, her red locks spilling over her shoulder to brush against the swell of her ass.
“Coming?” she asked, sinking into the water. I knew at that moment I would follow her anywhere.
[[Fade to black|Belladonna FTB]]
[[Full NSFW scene|Belladonna NSFW]]“Option one,” I said tiredly. I didn’t want to be left alone. Not now. While Belladonna and I didn’t spend a lot of time together, I found the presence of another comforting. I just wanted to sit in a room and let the day disappear from me. But I didn’t want to do it alone.
Without hesitation, she turned, showing me her back. Slowly, I stripped my clothes from me, stepping forward to the mud pool in front of me. Part of me was hesitant. It was mud after all. But it smelled absolutely delicious and ever since the Deep, my bones had been aching. Maybe Belladonna was right. A soak would do me more good than I probably knew.
The mud water itself was thick and cooling at the initial touch. It coated my legs as I stepped inside its depths, feeling a series of stone steps beneath my feet. As it crawled up my thighs, over my belly and chest, before setting at my neck and shoulders, I began to feel it leach something from my skin. As if every negative or bad thought that I had had in the last few weeks, years, lifetimes, was suddenly not a problem anymore.
I wasn’t even aware of the sigh that left my lips until I heard Belladonna laugh. “May I turn around now?”
I gave some sort of consent, though I wasn’t sure what, as my head tipped back to rest against a pillowed bed of moss that had somehow grown behind me.
“What is this place?” I asked. The substance around me was starting to heat up, pulling the aches from my muscles and replacing them with a deep warmth.
“One of the many bathes across the Night Market. There are different types you can take but I have always found when wishing for warmth, this is one of the best. Next to the magma baths, that is, but I am unsure yet if that is something you can survive.”
I looked up at her, cracking one eye open. “And you can?”
“Vampire perk,” she said. “We like the warmth and suck it in as if it were our blood. Leaves our skin all pink and flushed too. I’ve occasionally partaken in magma tonics just to give my cheeks the flush of life when I wish to go without rouge during the day.”
I didn’t know why but I found the detail comforting. It probably had to do more with the bath than anything else.
I didn’t know how much time went by. How long I soaked in the tub of mud. If it was even important to know. But what I did know, is I felt safe. Even after today, I felt safe. Turning, I looked at Belladonna. True to her word, she had just sat, allowing me to take the lead on what I needed.
[[You come off far scarier than you actually are, you know that right?]]
[[I don’t know much about vampires but you seem like an odd one]]
[[Thank you for taking me here. You somehow always know what people need]]
I looked at her tiredly. “Option two,” I told her. “It has nothing to do with you in general I just think I want to be alone after all that. Just for a bit.”
Belladonna was already heading towards the door before the words were completely out of my mouth. “The need to be alone is one I understand far more than you may know. I’ll be outside these doors if you change your mind and when you are ready, I will get you back to the apothecary.”
Slipping out into the main room, she shut the door behind her. The room itself was not silent, really. There was the soft sound of trickling water and a rustle of a breeze. I appreciated that the deathly grip of quiet was not looming in the corner.
Tiredly, I shucked off my clothes, slipping beneath the muddied waters. I felt a cooling sensation encase me for the first few moments as I settled beneath the murky substance, before it then heated, pulling toxins and every negative emotion I had from my bones, washing them away. I didn’t know how long the feeling would last, but I felt as if I were floating. Like what I had experienced, what was going to transpire, was nothing more than a soft dream somewhere along the horizon.
Sighing, I closed my eyes. Somewhere, the world started to swirl, and my body meshed within it. It bled together into the soft abyss until I was no more. I simply fell into the Night Market itself and was comforted by the surrounding warmth. It reminded me of a home I couldn’t remember. Of a soft blanket smelling of mint. And of a grandmother who I could no longer remember but loved just the same.
Sinking further beneath the water, I let the world pull me. And in the end, it was enough to warm me for the first time in days.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>“Option three,” I told her. She smiled softly, motioning for me to take off my shoes. I noticed her kick off her own heels and drop down at last two inches. I never before realized what height they gave her. Belladonna was still tall, even after the fact, but she was a little bit more manageable now. Less intimidating.
Sticking my feet in the mud water, I felt it immediately cool around me, ticking my toes before it heated into something deep and burning. It was a good burn though, one that I could feel warm my entire body despite me not dipping all the way in. Next to me, Belladonna rolled her dress up to her thighs and did the same. Dipping her feet all the way in before bringing them out and letting the mud drip down her toes to puddle back within the water.
Behind us, the door opened and the person out front carried in bubbling glasses, frothing at the rim and smelling vaguely of hibiscus. I hadn’t even seen Belladonna order them and was surprised to see her at all. The woman left the plate of drinks beside us before quickly slipping away.
“How’d you do that?” I asked.
“She’s a donor. She anticipates my needs.”
I did a double take. “If you drink from someone you can have some sort of mental connection.”
“If you drink a lot from someone you can,” she said. “That woman is someone I just so happen to drink a lot from.”
“So you have people that just offer you their neck?”
“Or their thigh.”
“I can’t tell if I find that weird or not.”
She laughed. It was one of her true ones that sounded much deeper than the girly one I had seen her use occasionally, or the husky one she gave when being coy. There were so many faces of Belladonna I sometimes wondered which one was which.
[[You come off far scarier than you actually are, you know that right?]]
[[I don’t know much about vampires but you seem like an odd one]]
[[Thank you for taking me here. You somehow always know what people need]]
“You come off far scarier than you actually are. You know that, right?” When I had first met her, I assumed her to be someone cold and harsh. That she may be able to screw me over if I took one wrong step. Belladonna seemed like the type of woman who would use me as a stepping stone if the situation called for it.
The more I got to know her though, I was discovering quieter depths. Things about her that were by all intents and purposes, normal. Far more normal than I thought would be in her repertoire from the get go.
“Oh, don’t say such things,” she told me, though her lips were quirked in a smile. “I do have an image to keep.”
“Isn’t it exhausting?”
At that, she tipped her head back and groaned. “Immensely,” she said in irritation. “Do you know, the other day, a client asked for a discount because my nails were not the shade of red he hoped them to bed?”
“That seems a bit much. What did you do?”
“Fed from him and sent him on his way with a hard on.”
I stared at her. I had no idea if she was joking or not but there was a small part of me that completely hoped it was true.
“I only took the job, of course, because he had an impressive library and I was looking for something good to read.”
I blinked. “You like to read?”
“Books are my passion.”
There was something so simple about her answer. So pure. Belladonna Malady. The woman who walked through the market in intimidating heights of a heel. The woman who made everyone else step aside. The one who had ins with Barons, who was on the arm of nearly all the rich, and who, quite literally, mad herself into the woman she was today, liked books. It was touching in a way.
“When do you even get the time to read?” I asked.
“I don’t. Not often. Which is why I take vacations a few times a year and go someplace that only a few dear friends know about, so I can sit and read to my heart's content.”
“That sounds peaceful.”
She hummed at me in response. “So is this,” she said. “We can stay as long as you wish, dear heart. After the last few Barons, a little pampering is needed.”
Wiggling my toes within the water, I felt it move around me, curling against me and sucking away every ounce of dread I hadn’t even known was there. I wondered how often Belladonna came here. How often she felt the need for this solitude. I couldn’t bring myself to ask, though. The answer felt just as personal as her book confession and I doubted I could push my luck.
“Do you have a favorite book?” I asked.
“Many.”
Swallowing, I kicked at the water. “Could you tell me about one?”
There was no hesitation. Belladonna’s voice began to wrap around the room, curling around us much like the heat of the water. I could feel myself sinking into it, drifting off into the sound of her voice and warmth. For the first time in days I felt the chill leave me.
I didn’t know how long I sat with her. What kind of time passed. I was vaguely aware of sipping at something sweet and eating a bit as the hours ticked on. Not once did Belladonna stop talking, however.
Sighing, I closed my eyes. Somewhere, the world started to swirl, and my body meshed within it. It bled together into the soft abyss until I was no more. I simply fell into the Night Market itself and was comforted by the surrounding warmth. It reminded me of a home I couldn’t remember. Of a soft blanket smelling of mint. And of a grandmother who I could no longer remember but loved just the same.
In the end, none of it mattered though. All that mattered was the day was done, and we were another step closer to our goal. Good or bad, it was all going to end soon.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>“I don’t know much about vampires but you seem like an odd one,” I told her. I silently hoped she didn’t take offense.
“I don’t know if I’m odd,” she stated. “I am young, however.”
I looked at her. “How young?”
“I was only turned a little over a decade ago. For most, that isn’t even enough time to get the bloodlust under control. I, however, was very motivated. I like to remind the fledglings of that when they come to me for aid. That it is mind over body. Of course, they end up killing once more and then it just feeds into the image of me being far stronger than I actually am.”
“How much of your image is cultivated by you and complete bullshit?”
She laughed. “Those are secrets I will not be divulging.”
It felt playful in a way that I hadn’t had yet with her, causing me to smile. “Tell me something then. Something that is not bullshit.”
She thought about that for a moment, truly searching for something to satisfy my curiosity. The pursuit of knowledge was something Belladonna held above all and it didn’t seem to matter the type of question. If she had means of answering, she would.
“I adore books,” she said finally.
There was something so simple about her answer. So pure. Belladonna Malady. The woman who walked through the market in intimidating heights of a heel. The woman who made everyone else step aside. The one who had ins with Barons, who was on the arm of nearly all the rich, and who, quite literally, mad herself into the woman she was today, liked books. It was touching in a way.
“When do you even get the time to read?” I asked.
“I don’t. Not often. Which is why I take vacations a few times a year and go someplace that only a few dear friends know about, so I can sit and read to my heart's content.”
“That sounds peaceful.”
She hummed at me in response. “So is this,” she said. “We can stay as long as you wish, dear heart. After the last few Barons, a little pampering is needed.”
Wiggling my toes within the water, I felt it move around me, curling against me and sucking away every ounce of dread I hadn’t even known was there. I wondered how often Belladonna came here. How often she felt the need for this solitude. I couldn’t bring myself to ask, though. The answer felt just as personal as her book confession and I doubted I could push my luck.
“Do you have a favorite book?” I asked.
“Many.”
Swallowing, I kicked at the water. “Could you tell me about one?”
There was no hesitation. Belladonna’s voice began to wrap around the room, curling around us much like the heat of the water. I could feel myself sinking into it, drifting off into the sound of her voice and warmth. For the first time in days I felt the chill leave me.
I didn’t know how long I sat with her. What kind of time passed. I was vaguely aware of sipping at something sweet and eating a bit as the hours ticked on. Not once did Belladonna stop talking, however.
Sighing, I closed my eyes. Somewhere, the world started to swirl, and my body meshed within it. It bled together into the soft abyss until I was no more. I simply fell into the Night Market itself and was comforted by the surrounding warmth. It reminded me of a home I couldn’t remember. Of a soft blanket smelling of mint. And of a grandmother who I could no longer remember but loved just the same.
In the end, none of it mattered though. All that mattered was the day was done, and we were another step closer to our goal. Good or bad, it was all going to end soon.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>“Thank you,” I told her. “You somehow always know what people need and I don’t think you get enough credit for that.”
“I assure you, I do not wish for the credit.”
That surprised me a little. “You don’t like praise?”
“Not when it is my job to praise others,” she told me.
“Then what do you like?”
Pushing her legs back and forth in the water, she grinned. “Books.”
There was something so simple about her answer. So pure. Belladonna Malady. The woman who walked through the market in intimidating heights of a heel. The woman who made everyone else step aside. The one who had ins with Barons, who was on the arm of nearly all the rich, and who, quite literally, mad herself into the woman she was today, liked books. It was touching in a way.
“When do you even get the time to read?” I asked.
“I don’t. Not often. Which is why I take vacations a few times a year and go someplace that only a few dear friends know about, so I can sit and read to my heart's content.”
“That sounds peaceful.”
She hummed at me in response. “So is this,” she said. “We can stay as long as you wish, dear heart. After the last few Barons, a little pampering is needed.”
Wiggling my toes within the water, I felt it move around me, curling against me and sucking away every ounce of dread I hadn’t even known was there. I wondered how often Belladonna came here. How often she felt the need for this solitude. I couldn’t bring myself to ask, though. The answer felt just as personal as her book confession and I doubted I could push my luck.
“Do you have a favorite book?” I asked.
“Many.”
Swallowing, I kicked at the water. “Could you tell me about one?”
There was no hesitation. Belladonna’s voice began to wrap around the room, curling around us much like the heat of the water. I could feel myself sinking into it, drifting off into the sound of her voice and warmth. For the first time in days I felt the chill leave me.
I didn’t know how long I sat with her. What kind of time passed. I was vaguely aware of sipping at something sweet and eating a bit as the hours ticked on. Not once did Belladonna stop talking, however.
Sighing, I closed my eyes. Somewhere, the world started to swirl, and my body meshed within it. It bled together into the soft abyss until I was no more. I simply fell into the Night Market itself and was comforted by the surrounding warmth. It reminded me of a home I couldn’t remember. Of a soft blanket smelling of mint. And of a grandmother who I could no longer remember but loved just the same.
In the end, none of it mattered though. All that mattered was the day was done, and we were another step closer to our goal. Good or bad, it was all going to end soon.
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>><img src="images/Ch10.png"
height="300" width="900">
The sky was a swirling grey miasma with a stained tear cutting across the clouds. Thunder rolled in the distance, from a place far beyond what we could actually see, and the tattered shreds of our world snapped delicately side to side as they tried to stitch themselves back together. I clutched my side as I looked up at the torn sky above the Renaissance District. Or what was the Renaissance District. Water had gushed from the tear above and flooded the streets while wind ripped through the alleyway. Rubble of a district that had once been full of life now lay in sodden heaps throughout the muddy and broken expanse before us. Not even the walls were left.
“They have it mostly under control,” Gabriel said, staring out at the people gathering the rest of their items and the Velvet Guard who were there to escort them. The district was closed off now. There was a line of rope and guards that prevented anyone from coming through. When I had wandered back here during the early hours of the morning, I had only been let through the blockade because Gabriel had been near.
“How did they stitch the sky?” I asked. It was still cut open, a gaping wound on our world, but the bleed over from whatever was beyond had stopped.
“In this incident, magic is sanctioned,” he replied. “We have precautions we can take to bandage up the tears while we are waiting for it to close on their own.”
“But will it? Close I mean?”
“The few times we have seen this happen before, yes, they have. Though, it takes time.” He glanced around, eyes tracking the members of his crew as they went about their job. When he took me gently by the elbow, I followed without question. It wasn’t like Gabriel to act in secrecy.
“The Gatekeeper was here,” he said.
I snapped my attention to him. “What? How do you know?”
“In the midst of it all, I saw a gate. One that opened to take most of the damage that was bleeding through into this world and two more that opened and closed with a flash, as if to place a band-aid of some sort of magic over the tear itself.”
I looked up towards the bruised night above. Whatever was beyond was indiscernible and the tear was certainly bigger than it had been when it first split open. But if I focused, I could see it. The blue shimmer of a gate with the silver white edging. The magic was there.
“It probably saved the rest of the market,” I whispered in awe.
“I know it did. If we had not contained this, the Renaissance district would not be the only thing that was lost.”
[[So the Gatekeeper is trying to be helpful then?]]
[[By now the Gatekeeper has to know what we are doing. Why not come forward?]]
[[They have purposely stayed in the shadows. I don’t think this Gatekeeper will be easy to work with]]Their magic was beautiful. As I stared at it, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the remnants of its spell. Despite not being able to touch it, it gave the sense of being cool and light. There was a comfort that was there. An orange and gold dazzle that I wanted to hold close to my chest.
“So the Gatekeeper is trying to be helpful,” I stated. They didn’t want the market to die. They didn’t want what had happened here last night. It was not much to go off of but it eased a little of my concern to know that they were not actively working against us.
“But why not come forward?” Gabriel asked, the frustration in his voice. “We are not their enemy.”
“But they had no reason to believe that,” I reasoned. “Maybe, now that this has happened, they will think differently.”
It was said with uncertainty but I wanted to hope. Maybe we didn’t need the last of the Baron's favors. Maybe, the Gatekeeper would come forward.
Standing outside what once was Caliban’s roost, I looked upwards. The building had collapsed during the long night. The derelict structure had all but crumbled in on itself. Buried beneath the rubble I knew were trinkets of the man's life. Small toys meant for future children. Stolen odds and ends that had brought him joy. They were nothing now.
“Are you regretting what you did?” Gabriel asked. With Odin’s knowledge that he would have been happy whether Caliban was here or not, I had felt a knife gut me. If I had known that this could have gone peacefully, of course I would have chosen that path. I had assumed though that the only way to get Odin’s favor, was to drag Caliban back to the Baron.
But this was on Odin. These caveats were on him. When it came down to it, when I truly looked at the decision I had been faced with, would I have done anything different?
[[I will always choose the market over an individual]]
[[I regret not choosing an individual over the market]]
[[I’m angry that I did not have all the information]]It didn’t make sense. We were not as stealthy as maybe we should have been with our intentions with the Barons. The Gatekeeper, even within his own secrecy, should have known what we were doing. That we were trying to help. We had been operating under the assumption, however, that they just didn’t care about the market, or they were completely unaware of what they were.
“Why haven’t they stepped forward,” I said with a confused shake of my head. “It’s clear they want to help. Why haven’t they approached us?”
“I do not know. Perhaps there is a rule that is preventing them. Or perhaps they don’t trust our own motivations.”
“But this,” I gestured to the churning sky. “This should be enough proof that we need to work together.”
“Then let us hope that in the upcoming days, the Gatekeeper sees this need and seeks us out.” It would be a miracle but I was growing used to fantastic things falling into our lap. After all of this, we needed a win.
Standing outside what once was Caliban’s roost, I looked upwards. The building had collapsed during the long night. The derelict structure had all but crumbled in on itself. Buried beneath the rubble I knew were trinkets of the man's life. Small toys meant for future children. Stolen odds and ends that had brought him joy. They were nothing now.
“Are you regretting what you did?” Gabriel asked. With Odin’s knowledge that he would have been happy whether Caliban was here or not, I had felt a knife gut me. If I had known that this could have gone peacefully, of course I would have chosen that path. I had assumed though that the only way to get Odin’s favor, was to drag Caliban back to the Baron.
But this was on Odin. These caveats were on him. When it came down to it, when I truly looked at the decision I had been faced with, would I have done anything different?
[[I will always choose the market over an individual]]
[[I regret not choosing an individual over the market]]
[[I’m angry that I did not have all the information]]While there was a part of me that was thankful for their interference, there was a much larger part that could not ignore what this meant. “If they are purposely staying in the shadows, Gabriel, I do not think they are going to be inclined to work with us in the future.”
“I was thinking something similar,” he said. “We are working towards repairing the market. They should be stepping forward.”
Before, we had been operating under the assumption that either the Gatekeeper didn’t know how to do their job, or was unaware of their role. But now, it was clear, they just did not want to be found. It was a fact that didn’t bode well for any of us. Then again, the Gatekeeper was a Baron in the end. Perhaps these kinds of actions shouldn’t have surprised me at all.
Standing outside what once was Caliban’s roost, I looked upwards. The building had collapsed during the long night. The derelict structure had all but crumbled in on itself. Buried beneath the rubble I knew were trinkets of the man's life. Small toys meant for future children. Stolen odds and ends that had brought him joy. They were nothing now.
“Are you regretting what you did?” Gabriel asked. With Odin’s knowledge that he would have been happy whether Caliban was here or not, I had felt a knife gut me. If I had known that this could have gone peacefully, of course I would have chosen that path. I had assumed though that the only way to get Odin’s favor, was to drag Caliban back to the Baron.
But this was on Odin. These caveats were on him. When it came down to it, when I truly looked at the decision I had been faced with, would I have done anything different?
[[I will always choose the market over an individual]]
[[I regret not choosing an individual over the market]]
[[I’m angry that I did not have all the information]]“I will always choose the market over the fate of one person,” I told him. I didn’t have to like it. But if a decision came down to the market as a whole, or the fate of one man, there was very little question in my mind what I would choose.
Gabriel nodded, taking in my words. “I believe you did the best you could with what little information you were given. I’m not sure how else this could have played out without the end result being mass destruction.”
His words did little to comfort me. It all felt in silent flux. Like the world around me was waiting to see where I moved next but wasn’t willing to budge on the actual outcome of it all.
Looking up towards the sky, Gabriel and I stood in silence for a long moment. The familiar music of the market was not lilting in a soothing backdrop behind us. The smell of crackled meets and crisp buttered greens no longer scented the air. Instead, the surrounding area tasted like salt and frayed magic. Gabriel had said that there were bodies to be buried. I wondered what kind of hellish breeding ground for the spirits this sight had just become.
“I have a philosophy,” Gabriel started slowly. “It is one that not everyone understands but I think it holds true for this moment in time. Sometimes, heinous things have to happen, in order to protect the good.”
I turned to him. His jaw was clenched and the light of his eyes was dull.
“I do not do some of the things I do without a heavy heart, $name. But I do them because it is the evil that does protect the rest of the market.”
“But I did not protect the market,” I told him. The district was gone. Magic was not bringing it back.
“Caliban was a ticking time bomb. You saw firsthand what his magic was capable of. He could not be left unchecked. And given the information that you had, this may have been the best outcome. If we had left him to roam, who is to say that the market wouldn’t be in worse shape.” He set his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. “We mourn the people we lost but we celebrate those we saved.”
I swallowed thickly, believing his words with my whole heart.
So why did it not feel like a win?
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo start]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]<</if>>I swallowed thickly. “I wish I had chosen differently,” I said. “I was thinking of the market and was trying to convince myself that one man did not outweigh everyone but– I am afraid we made a bigger mess than if we had just sought a different solution.” Given that Odin had been willing to let him flee, maybe we could have convinced Caliban to go back home. Not to Odin. He could still run and have a fighting chance. Then again, who knew if Caliban would have even taken the opportunity.
Gabriel nodded, taking in my words. “I believe you did the best you could with what little information you were given. I’m not sure how else this could have played out without the end result being mass destruction.”
His words did little to comfort me. It all felt in silent flux. Like the world around me was waiting to see where I moved next but wasn’t willing to budge on the actual outcome of it all.
Looking up towards the sky, Gabriel and I stood in silence for a long moment. The familiar music of the market was not lilting in a soothing backdrop behind us. The smell of crackled meets and crisp buttered greens no longer scented the air. Instead, the surrounding area tasted like salt and frayed magic. Gabriel had said that there were bodies to be buried. I wondered what kind of hellish breeding ground for the spirits this sight had just become.
“I have a philosophy,” Gabriel started slowly. “It is one that not everyone understands but I think it holds true for this moment in time. Sometimes, heinous things have to happen, in order to protect the good.”
I turned to him. His jaw was clenched and the light of his eyes was dull.
“I do not do some of the things I do without a heavy heart, $name. But I do them because it is the evil that does protect the rest of the market.”
“But I did not protect the market,” I told him. The district was gone. Magic was not bringing it back.
“Caliban was a ticking time bomb. You saw firsthand what his magic was capable of. He could not be left unchecked. And given the information that you had, this may have been the best outcome. If we had left him to roam, who is to say that the market wouldn’t be in worse shape.” He set his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. “We mourn the people we lost but we celebrate those we saved.”
I swallowed thickly, believing his words with my whole heart.
So why did it not feel like a win?
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo start]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]<</if>>I felt heat bubble within my chest and my fists clench at my sides. “I’m angry,” I told him. “We didn’t have all the information and I feel as if we were used as a pawn in Odin’s little game. And maybe we have been to some extent with all the Barons, but this one felt far more personal.”
Gabriel nodded, taking in my words. “I believe you did the best you could with what little information you were given. I’m not sure how else this could have played out without the end result being mass destruction.”
His words did little to comfort me. It all felt in silent flux. Like the world around me was waiting to see where I moved next but wasn’t willing to budge on the actual outcome of it all.
Looking up towards the sky, Gabriel and I stood in silence for a long moment. The familiar music of the market was not lilting in a soothing backdrop behind us. The smell of crackled meets and crisp buttered greens no longer scented the air. Instead, the surrounding area tasted like salt and frayed magic. Gabriel had said that there were bodies to be buried. I wondered what kind of hellish breeding ground for the spirits this sight had just become.
“I have a philosophy,” Gabriel started slowly. “It is one that not everyone understands but I think it holds true for this moment in time. Sometimes, heinous things have to happen, in order to protect the good.”
I turned to him. His jaw was clenched and the light of his eyes was dull.
“I do not do some of the things I do without a heavy heart, $name. But I do them because it is the evil that does protect the rest of the market.”
“But I did not protect the market,” I told him. The district was gone. Magic was not bringing it back.
“Caliban was a ticking time bomb. You saw firsthand what his magic was capable of. He could not be left unchecked. And given the information that you had, this may have been the best outcome. If we had left him to roam, who is to say that the market wouldn’t be in worse shape.” He set his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. “We mourn the people we lost but we celebrate those we saved.”
I swallowed thickly, believing his words with my whole heart.
So why did it not feel like a win?
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo start]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]<</if>><img src="images/Ch10.png"
height="300" width="900">
I stood before a throne made of warped stone, veins of bright gold magic pulsing beneath the slate exterior and weaving together like a branch of a tree. Its thick roots shot up towards the ceiling, bowing out in woven vines before fluttering into green leaves that made up the archway of the receiving room I had been escorted to. Gabriel stood behind me, dressed in his full Warden regalia, his sword gleaming on his hip ominously.
“So you let him go.” Odin sat comfortably upon the throne, filling it up far more than I thought possible. He had appeared an older man before. Unassuming. Nonthreatening. Now, he took up the entirety of the stone chair, a sash cutting across his chest stuck through with runic bone.
“I did,” I told him, keeping my chin held high. It didn’t matter what my personal thoughts were on the situation with Caliban. Gabriel suggested keeping my conversation with Odin as short as possible. When we had arrived outside the iron gates to the district, they had almost not let him in. Gabriel had not slept since the situation had occurred and looked as if he were ready for more than one fight. With a single look from the Warden, they had backed down. It was good to see that despite being employed by a Baron, the rules of the Velvet Guard were still something to take into consideration.
“You thought that wise?” Odin asked. I had yet to detect malice in his voice but it was clear his decision was not one he was pleased to hear of. If anything, he sounded almost disappointed. Like I was a child that had spilled a cup of milk on the new rug. “Answer me,” he said.
[[(diplomatic) I do not think it wise or unwise. I simply did what I did]]
[[I was not going to send my friend back to his abuser]]
[[I think it was unwise. But I suspect he is already gone from the market]]“I do not think my actions were wise or unwise. I did what I did and am now willing to face the consequences, good or bad.” I kept my tone even. Clearly, I had been practicing it but it was something I saw Belladonna do quite frequently. Keep her answers as noncommittal as possible. It was easier to go through life when you never gave anyone the opportunity to catch you in a lie or an admission of guilt.
“You are learning,” Odin said with a thin smile. “I thought you would come in here much more upset than you are. Caliban does have that way about him. A charm in which he uses to spin stories. I assumed that by letting him go, you have fallen for his tricks. Or perhaps you did it for your own agenda. Is there something going on within the Night Market, something more, that I need to be aware of?”
“Just what we have already told you.”
“Interesting. And in the future, will you be telling these old bones more or is this the last of our relations?”
“I have nothing to hide,” I told him. “If there is information that I feel is important for you to know, I will send word.” I couldn’t imagine what that would be, however. Nor did I really care to think of a situation where I would ever come to Odin again for help.
“He tore through the veil,” Odin said. Behind me, Gabriel flinched. I could feel his desire to go and find this tear immediately. “Such an action does not bode well for what you are trying to achieve. In fact, if I am correct, I do believe young Caliban may have just ticked off years of the market's life.”
I kept quiet, my lips pressed together. Whether this man was right or not, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of my fear.
Odin chuckled, as if he could hear my thoughts. Then, stepping down from his throne, he walked towards me. A metal feather was contained in his hand. “Here,” he said. “My favor.”
[[Take the feather and leave]]
[[You played me]]
[[Will you be following him through the tear?]]“I was never going to send my friend back to his abuser,” I told him. “If you thought you could play me and get me to believe you, an individual with far too much power and who operates under fear tactics, you got the wrong person for your dirty work.”
A slow grin spread across his worn face. “I see my son has gotten to you.”
“He is not your son. You do not treat the ones you love as you have.”
The laugh that spread through the chamber echoed in such a way that the flames burst high and the leaves above curled in defense. “Oh, he has gotten his talons in you well. I wonder if you would have felt the same if you had known me first within the market. Is your decision based solely on an ambiguous timeline of events? Would you be so passionate for him if I had told you the things he’s done? How he had brought entire swaths of Jotnar army to my door, nothing but heads and a smile in hopes that he did well? If you had known this first, would you have still let him go?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t even know if I believed him. Not that it mattered. By now, it was my sincerest hope that Caliban was far from the Night Market and away from Odin’s control. Odin, however, still looked pleased with whatever he saw upon my face. Stepping down from his throne, he approached me, a metal feather in hand. A raven feather.
“He tore through the veil,” Odin said. Behind me, Gabriel flinched. I could feel his desire to go and find this tear immediately. “Such an action does not bode well for what you are trying to achieve. In fact, if I am correct, I do believe young Caliban may have just ticked off years of the market's life.”
I kept quiet, my lips pressed together. Whether this man was right or not, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of my fear.
“Here. What you came for.” It was the Baron’s favor.
[[Take the feather and leave]]
[[You played me]]
[[Will you be following him through the tear?]]“I don’t exactly think what I did was wise of me,” I answered hesitantly. “But I doubt it matters now. He seemed pretty intent on leaving the market.” How Caliban was planning to do that I actually didn’t know. The gates were unpredictable. Then again, maybe he just wished to go to the first available place. Put as much distance between him and Odin as he possibly could.
Odin considered my answer with a neutral face. Behind me, Gabriel was tense, waiting for whatever fallout was about to be bestowed upon us. Huginn was lurking somewhere in the rafters, his crow visage hopping from beam to beam.
“He is. Last night, in fact. Before you came to tell me of your failure.”
The wave of relief that washed over me over the knowledge that he had escaped was nearly all consuming. At least last night was not for nothing. Caliban was free and while he was on the run, hopefully he was gone for some time.
“He tore through the veil,” Odin said. Behind me, Gabriel flinched. I could feel his desire to go and find this tear immediately. “Such an action does not bode well for what you are trying to achieve. In fact, if I am correct, I do believe young Caliban may have just ticked off years of the market's life.”
I kept quiet, my lips pressed together. Whether this man was right or not, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of my fear.
“I suppose you have now come for this.” Standing from the throne, Odin stepped down. A small iron feather was in his hand. “My favor.”
I blinked at him in surprise. “But I didn’t do as you asked.”
“Actually, you did. I asked you to bring Caliban home. Last night, when he fled, he used his magic to go the only direction in which he could. A one way ticket to Asgard. He is home now. Back in his world. And I give you this favor because I have a very active interest in going back there too. I miss my wife.”
I stared at the feather. The favor that I had been so worried I wouldn’t get, and felt my stomach roll.
[[Take the feather and leave]]
[[You played me]]
[[Will you be following him through the tear?]]My mind was reeling. It didn’t matter. My decision didn’t matter in the end. Odin was always going to give me the favor. The agony over whether I could let Caliban go, seeing the pain on his face as I approached, was all unnecessary.
But I had still let him go. In the end, I still released him. While the outcome maybe didn’t matter to Odin, it mattered to me. I didn’t think I would be able to lay my head down at night if I had returned him here. If I had taken the trust he had given me and turned it into something perverted.
Taking the feather, I didn’t look at Odin. I didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, I turned to Gabriel. “Let’s go.”
Gabriel played the part for both of us. He bowed his head in respect, thanking the Baron, before following me out of the room. I could hear Odin’s chuckle as we passed Huginn, now in his human form, his scowl lingering at the back of my neck.
Turning down a hall, Gabriel stopped, pressing a hand to several stones, all of which lit up, the wall itself scattering and reforming into a doorway to the center of the Night Market. It was not the way we came in but I wouldn’t put it past a place like this to be built upon magic bricks, guiding us to wherever we needed to go.
Stepping out, the wall closed behind us, leaving no image of a palace or the iron district itself. I felt the metal of the feather digging into my palm.
“We were made a fool,” I whispered.
“We were,” Gabriel intoned. “Admittedly, I am a little irritated we did not see that coming. That I did not see that coming. Odin never says what he means and usually has advantageous outcomes no matter the scenario. I apologize, $name. I should have been far more vigilant.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility, Gabriel,” I said tiredly. I was beginning to believe we were all just being set up as pawns at this point. Tactics needed to change. Rubbing a hand over my face, I felt my eyes sting, and my skin pull across my palm. I hadn’t slept much the night before and Odin’s declaration was one that felt heavy against me.
“Are you feeling alright?” Gabriel asked.
“Just not enough sleep.” And too much stress. Stress was in fact probably the main factor to my declining health. The fact that I was feeling less and less like me these days and more like something that was being pulled in every direction. I couldn’t quite explain it. It wasn’t something that was actively at the forefront of my mind. But it did hurt. It made everything feel tight and loose all at once. Like a rubber band that was being stretched and released over and over again.
“We should get you back to Ms. Albright’s. You can rest.”
<<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>I felt my stomach tighten. Hazel. I hadn’t seen her when Gabriel had come to collect me that morning. “I don’t know if Hazel wants me around much at all right now,” I told him evenly.
Gabriel had seen her last night. It was not hard to piece together what had happened when we got home. Shifting uncomfortably, Gabriel turned his face up towards the lanterns. They looked sad somehow. I knew how they felt.
“Let us just get you home for rest. We may all need distance between with this moment.”
Feeling far too tired and sore to protest, I followed him back to the apothecary.<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo start]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]<</if>>“You played me,” I started, staring at it in disbelief.
“No, I just made sure that no matter what you chose, I got what I wanted. It’s stacking the odds. A skill that takes time to learn but one you should perhaps become more skilled at.” Dropping the feather into my hand, he smiled at me. “I trust that you and Warden Caine can see yourself out. I look forward to speaking with you more when you discover who the Gatekeeper is. I think I speak for all the Barons when I say, we are very much looking forward to welcoming our brother or sister with open arms.”
I stared at him, mouth agape, curling my fingers around the feather.
Behind me, Gabriel stepped forward. “Thank you for your assistance, Baron.” With a gentle hand on my arm, he turned me from Odin, guiding me back through the halls. We passed Huginn on the way. He, unlike Odin, did not look pleased with the outcome of this endeavor.
Turning down a hall, Gabriel stopped, pressing a hand to several stones, all of which lit up, the wall itself scattering and reforming into a doorway to the center of the Night Market. It was not the way we came in but I wouldn’t put it past a place like this to be built upon magic bricks, guiding us to wherever we needed to go.
Stepping out, the wall closed behind us, leaving no image of a palace or the iron district itself. I felt the metal of the feather digging into my palm.
“We were made a fool,” I whispered.
“We were,” Gabriel intoned. “Admittedly, I am a little irritated we did not see that coming. That I did not see that coming. Odin never says what he means and usually has advantageous outcomes no matter the scenario. I apologize, $name. I should have been far more vigilant.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility, Gabriel,” I said tiredly. I was beginning to believe we were all just being set up as pawns at this point. Tactics needed to change. Rubbing a hand over my face, I felt my eyes sting, and my skin pull across my palm. I hadn’t slept much the night before and Odin’s declaration was one that felt heavy against me.
“Are you feeling alright?” Gabriel asked.
“Just not enough sleep.” And too much stress. Stress was in fact probably the main factor to my declining health. The fact that I was feeling less and less like me these days and more like something that was being pulled in every direction. I couldn’t quite explain it. It wasn’t something that was actively at the forefront of my mind. But it did hurt. It made everything feel tight and loose all at once. Like a rubber band that was being stretched and released over and over again.
“We should get you back to Ms. Albright’s. You can rest.”
<<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>I felt my stomach tighten. Hazel. I hadn’t seen her when Gabriel had come to collect me that morning. “I don’t know if Hazel wants me around much at all right now,” I told him evenly.
Gabriel had seen her last night. It was not hard to piece together what had happened when we got home. Shifting uncomfortably, Gabriel turned his face up towards the lanterns. They looked sad somehow. I knew how they felt.
“Let us just get you home for rest. We may all need distance between with this moment.”
Feeling far too tired and sore to protest, I followed him back to the apothecary.<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo start]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]<</if>>My mind was reeling. It didn’t matter. My decision didn’t matter in the end. Odin was always going to give me the favor. The agony over whether I could let Caliban go, seeing the pain on his face as I approached, was all unnecessary.
“Will you be following him?” Despite trying to keep Caliban from the very man that drove him off in the first place, I had somehow delivered him right back under Odin’s thumb.
“Eventually,” Odin said. “I do miss home. I will need to of course tie up a few loose ends here and I would like to see if this world survives, but yes, eventually, I will be going home to my boy and my people. It may be best to let him get acclimated first.”
I felt sick. From the moment I met this man, I had been playing into his plan. A pawn in his otherworldly game.
“I do hope you succeed,” Odin said, handing me the feather. “I think you are going to do great things and look forward to our working relationship.”
I didn't respond. I didn't think I even could. Gabriel played the part for both of us. He bowed his head in respect, thanking the Baron, before following me out of the room. I could hear Odin’s chuckle as we passed Huginn, now in his human form, his scowl lingering at the back of my neck.
Turning down a hall, Gabriel stopped, pressing a hand to several stones, all of which lit up, the wall itself scattering and reforming into a doorway to the center of the Night Market. It was not the way we came in but I wouldn’t put it past a place like this to be built upon magic bricks, guiding us to wherever we needed to go.
Stepping out, the wall closed behind us, leaving no image of a palace or the iron district itself. I felt the metal of the feather digging into my palm.
“We were made a fool,” I whispered.
“We were,” Gabriel intoned. “Admittedly, I am a little irritated we did not see that coming. That I did not see that coming. Odin never says what he means and usually has advantageous outcomes no matter the scenario. I apologize, $name. I should have been far more vigilant.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility, Gabriel,” I said tiredly. I was beginning to believe we were all just being set up as pawns at this point. Tactics needed to change. Rubbing a hand over my face, I felt my eyes sting, and my skin pull across my palm. I hadn’t slept much the night before and Odin’s declaration was one that felt heavy against me.
“Are you feeling alright?” Gabriel asked.
“Just not enough sleep.” And too much stress. Stress was in fact probably the main factor to my declining health. The fact that I was feeling less and less like me these days and more like something that was being pulled in every direction. I couldn’t quite explain it. It wasn’t something that was actively at the forefront of my mind. But it did hurt. It made everything feel tight and loose all at once. Like a rubber band that was being stretched and released over and over again.
“We should get you back to Ms. Albright’s. You can rest.”
<<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>I felt my stomach tighten. Hazel. I hadn’t seen her when Gabriel had come to collect me that morning. “I don’t know if Hazel wants me around much at all right now,” I told him evenly.
Gabriel had seen her last night. It was not hard to piece together what had happened when we got home. Shifting uncomfortably, Gabriel turned his face up towards the lanterns. They looked sad somehow. I knew how they felt.
“Let us just get you home for rest. We may all need distance between with this moment.”
Feeling far too tired and sore to protest, I followed him back to the apothecary.<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo start]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Ten Belladonna\Platonic]]<</if>><<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>The apothecary was a welcomed sight after the bitter cold of the morning. The market itself seemed quieter as of late. As if the world was quietly readying itself for what was to come. There was a poetic kind of horror about it that continued to stick in the back of my mind. People had a way about them. They either reacted to change well and adjusted smoothly, or they kicked and screamed the entire way. But the market itself? There was no hiding its displeasure.
Frowning, I pulled my scarf and coat from me as I walked through the front doors. Milo was there, hugging Hazel. She looked genuinely happy at something he had said or did, but her smile fell when I came through the door. I hadn’t seen her since she walked upstairs last night. When Gabriel had fetched me this morning, she had already been in the back garden, and gave little acknowledgment to my departure.
“Well, it just got cold in here,” Milo commented, looking between the two of us. His eyes snagged a bit longer on Hazel, concern flickering across his face. With her head bent she began to busy herself, refusing to meet either of our gazes. “Need me to stay?” he asked.
Hazel shook her head. “No. You said you were busy today. I have a lot of things to do myself.”
“You know I’d drop them for you, Haze,” he said softly. There was genuine distress in his eyes. Milo never did seem to do well when Hazel was upset.
Reaching out, she took his hand. “Thank you for the muffins. I’m very happy you didn’t burn down your kitchen this time.” The smile she gave him was wane and for a long pulse of a moment, Milo hesitated. But, in the end, he respected her wishes. The act felt like a knife to the chest.
Walking past me, he paused. I looked at him, waiting for the biting words or perhaps the big brother routine about breaking Hazel’s heart. But instead, he just shook his head sadly. “Probably for the best,” he muttered. He left the apothecary then, looking over his shoulder at Hazel once before he went.
When I turned back, Hazel was cleaning up behind the counter, keeping herself busy.
[[Can we talk?]]
[[Hazel, I’m sorry]]
<<elseif $hazelbreakup == "false">>The apothecary was a welcomed sight after the bitter cold of the morning. The market itself seemed quieter as of late. As if the world was quietly readying itself for what was to come. There was a poetic kind of horror about it that continued to stick in the back of my mind. People had a way about them. They either reacted to change well and adjusted smoothly, or they kicked and screamed the entire way. But the market itself? There was no hiding its displeasure.
Frowning, I pulled my scarf and coat from me as I walked through the front doors. Milo was there, hugging Hazel. She looked genuinely happy at something he had said or did. It was nice to see after the recent spats that I knew they had been in.
“$name! Look!” She held up a basket of misshapen blobs. “Milo tried cooking.”
I raised a brow at the attempt. They were nowhere near Hazel’s fluffy, light, pieces of divine that she often pulled from the oven. In fact, these looked a bit more like rocks.
“Tried is the optimal word,” Milo said. “If anyone breaks a tooth don’t come crying to me about it. You have all been warned.”
Hazel bounced on the balls of her feet, holding one of the muffins close to her chest. “You’ve come a long way since you first started cooking,” she encouraged. “The fact that you didn’t start a fire this time around is a real improvement.”
Milo gave her one of those looks. The kind that said he was irritated but in the end showcased more of his undying affection for the girl. Leaning forward, he gave Hazel a peck on the cheek, before turning to make his departure. They looked as if they had been in the middle of a goodbye that I had interrupted but I couldn’t help but notice just how quickly he was excusing himself when I entered a room lately.
“You alright, Milo?” I didn’t turn towards him. Only looked at him from the corner of my eye. He did much of the same.
“Still alive and kickin’. All anyone can ask for.”
“Milo doesn’t like the cold,” Hazel said from the counter. She was putting the muffins out on a tin display, making them available for customers. I was almost certain she would boast about his muffins to anyone that came in. “Excuse his dramatics.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Excuse my dramatics. I’ll talk to you all later. Enjoy those muffins, yeah? Eat, drink and be merry and the likes.” He smiled at me before walking out, the sound of the shop bell ringing in his wake.
[[That was weird|That was weird]]
[[That was nice of him|That was nice of him]]
[[The thing with Odin is officially done|The thing with Odin is officially done]]<</if>>The market was growing quiet. It was hard not to notice how people walked a little faster as of late, a general air of discontent starting to filter through even the most lively of districts. I couldn’t pinpoint when exactly it had started, but there was a shift within the market itself. As if it were starting to breathe different. Look at the world anew. I sometimes thought it might not like what it saw.
“I wish to talk to you.”
Gabriel’s voice interrupted my musings. Face pensive, he was staring ahead like he often did when he was on patrol. Today, however, he was simply here with me. When I had told him I would have to go see Odin, he had not even given me a choice. He had strapped his sword and walked me to the very gates.
<<if $belladonnasex == "true">> [[I wish to talk to you too (tell him about Belladonna)]]<</if>>\
[[I was trying to give you space but I am glad you want to talk]]
[[Are you sure?]]
I woke later that night with my chest hurting. Something was lodged within its center, leaving me gasping. As if a knife was embedded deep within, keeping me from breathing. Sitting up, I gasped for breath, eyes wide as I clawed at my shirt, trying to find what was keeping the air from filling my lungs.
The door burst open to my room, Milo rushing in and kneeling on the bed. I looked at him with wide eyes, thrashing as I clawed at my chest. Leaning forward, he lifted me towards him, turning me to my side. Air rushed into my lungs as my chest suddenly expanded, deep chilled rushes of air sweeping over me. I was practically bent over Milo’s lap, his hand running soothingly up and down my spine. I felt chills shiver in the wake of his fingers, a cold sweat beading my neck and forehead.
Clutching the edge of the bed, I slowly pushed myself up into a sitting position. My eyes were full and my nose was running as I looked at him in abject panic.
“Hey,” he said, both hands going to either side of my neck and clutching at me. His expression was a mirror of my own, full of concern and lingering horror. “You good?”
I nodded, not yet trusting my voice. When he pulled me close to him, I went willingly, my head resting on his shoulder. His hand splayed across my back and I could hear him whispering something to me, but the sound of my own heart was beating far too loud to make it out.
“What’s happening?” It was Hazel’s voice. She stood in the doorway, looking in on the two of us, a small sachet clutched within her hands. Protection, from what I remembered.
Milo didn’t let me go as he addressed her. “I’m not sure yet. Skin is warm, though. Fever?”
The booted sound of a tapping footstep crossed the room as Hazel came to our side, placing the back of her hand on my forehead. My eyes felt heavy along with every limb of my body and I couldn’t help but remain slumped against Milo, letting him hold me up.
“A small one,” Hazel said. “I’ll go downstairs and brew a batch of feverflu. $name, does anything hurt?” she asked.
I took a moment, trying to catalog what it was that was ailing me. My head felt full. As if it had been encased in wax and was splitting open to allow every thought, every ounce of memory and pain that was within the market itself, to come barreling in. My own words didn’t make sense and while I knew I was trying to speak to them, I could only get out a small shake of my head and a whimper.
Hazel rushed from the room after that while Milo maneuvered me down to lay back on the pillows. I felt the comforters shift around me as he slipped in beside me, holding me to him tightly. He smelled of something warm and spicy. Like honey and freshly brewed kafe.
“Hazel will get you something,” he assured me. “Just close your eyes.”
“Milo, it hurts.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I know it does but it’s going to be okay. All of this is going to be okay.” I curled my body against him then, unconsciously seeking out warmth. It was suddenly cold. Much colder than the market wind that had been blowing through the streets. I could feel my body shaking apart and didn’t know what to do. As Milo pulled the blankets around me tighter, all he could do was hold me against his chest, his arms a tight band that kept me from falling to pieces.
When his own head tucked against mine, I could feel tears wet my cheek that were not my own. “I’m going to find a way to save you,” he whispered to me.
The world fell to darkness soon after.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]The apothecary was a welcomed sight after the bitter cold of the morning. The market itself seemed quieter as of late. As if the world was quietly readying itself for what was to come. There was a poetic kind of horror about it that continued to stick in the back of my mind. People had a way about them. They either reacted to change well and adjusted smoothly, or they kicked and screamed the entire way. But the market itself? There was no hiding its displeasure.
Frowning, I pulled my scarf and coat from me as I walked through the front doors. Milo was there, hugging Hazel. She looked genuinely happy at something he had said or did. It was nice to see after the recent spats that I knew they had been in.
“$name! Look!” She held up a basket of misshapen blobs. “Milo tried cooking.”
I raised a brow at the attempt. They were nowhere near Hazel’s fluffy, light, pieces of divine that she often pulled from the oven. In fact, these looked a bit more like rocks.
“Tried is the optimal word,” Milo said. “If anyone breaks a tooth don’t come crying to me about it. You have all been warned.” Giving Hazel a kiss on the cheek, he began walking away. They looked as if they were in the middle of a goodbye that I had interrupted but I couldn’t help but notice just how quickly he was excusing himself when I entered a room lately.
“You alright, Milo?” I didn’t turn towards him. Only looked at him from the corner of my eye. He did much of the same.
“Still alive and kickin’. All anyone can ask for.”
“Milo doesn’t like the cold,” Hazel said from the counter. She was putting the muffins out on a tin display. “Excuse his dramatics.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Excuse my dramatics. I’ll talk to you all later. Enjoy those muffins, yeah? Eat, drink and be merry and the likes.” He smiled at me before walking out, the sound of the shop bell ringing in his wake.
[[That was weird]]
[[That was nice of him]]
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[The thing with Odin is officially done]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[The Gatekeeper showed up to the tear]]<</if>>
“I kind of want to talk to you, too,” I started. I hadn’t seen Gabriel since the entire incident with Caliban. When the two of us had started out this morning to go and see Odin, neither of us had really spoken due to being lost in our own thoughts. I had left his side last night and went with Belladonna to the bathhouse. There, things developed that I hadn’t expected and for some ill-fated reason that I could not describe, I felt that I needed to tell Gabriel. Transparency was rarely the wrong choice. <<if $gabrielro == "true">> I just didn’t want to hurt him either.<</if>>
“You can go first,” he said amicably. It was doubtful the man even knew what I was about to say, clearly lost in his own thoughts.
“I slept with Belladonna.” The words felt as if they echoed around the market and fell in some sort of broken puzzle at my feet. Gabriel’s steps faltered and I was almost certain he didn’t understand them. Not right away, at least. “I thought I should let you know.”
His face became a mask of calm as his eyes faced forward. “Did you pay for her services?”
I shook my head. “No. It happened after Caliban. I don’t know what it means for her and I but she offered and I took the comfort.”
“I see,” he said, voice tight.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> “Gabriel, this wasn’t something I planned and I… I like you. I do. I never actually…” I trailed off. I didn’t know if I was looking for an excuse for my actions or even if I believed my actions to be wrong. They hadn’t felt wrong. I only wished for Gabriel to say something, //anything//. His quiet was one of discontent, and suddenly what felt like a moment of relief, had been washed away with this feeling of shame, perhaps? “I’m sorry,” I said after a long moment.
It startled him as his eyes ticked towards me. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know. Because you and I had something going and I slept with her.” I hadn’t thought it wrong before. I hadn’t even thought of the term monogamy before. I had simply wanted comfort and Belladonna had provided.
Stopping, Gabriel turned to me fully. “I do not wish for you to apologize. I will admit that your confession has surprised me and has perhaps even brought up a note of jealousy, however, you and I also have had no prior conversation of our expectations with each other.”
“Have I hurt you?” I asked.
There was a moment in which he mulled my questions over, rolling it in his head within the context of what the two of us were. “Yes,” he said finally. “Though I am not mad either. I–” he sighed. “$name, I am well aware of the thrall Belladonna can have on an individual and I do not blame you for her actions.”
It was my turn to look at him with somewhat shock. “Her actions? Gabriel. I consented. Don’t vilify her in this situation and not me.”
He frowned. “You may think you consented but…”
“Rethink what you are about to say,” I told him abruptly. His eyes cleared from the angry gaze of the past that had beginning to swarm and he looked at me with far more clarity.
“It is my turn to apologize,” he muttered. “I don’t think I can have the conversation of you two at the moment without making an ass of myself. And for the time being, it may be too much for me to dwell upon.”
I nodded slowly. “We’ll continue to talk about it?”
“Yes.”<<elseif $gabrielro == "false">>"I'm not trying to hurt you," I told him quickly. "And I'm not sure what exactly happened between you two--"
"Nothing," he said. "I can assure you of that."
"Still, I felt like you should know. I don't want there to be any sort of awkwardness since we are all working together."<</if>>
His voice was controlled when he spoke next and I knew he was trying to shove the image of her and I out of his head. “Thank you for telling me, $name. You could have kept it from me and you did not. I do appreciate that.”
“Did you still want to share what you wished to talk about?” I asked tentatively. I didn’t know if I effectively killed our conversation.
Eyes trained upon the lanterns above, the deep amber hues of them reflecting against the silver cast of his gaze, he looked like he was struggling to find the words. “Do you believe that how I have been allowing the Night Market to operate is wrong?”
“You know I do,” I told him.
“Could you please explain specifically what you think is troublesome.” He looked at me nervously. “I believe that the situation of Caliban may need further thought than I had originally given it. And you have made some point in which I would like to follow up on.”
[[The flesh pits]]
[[The auction block]]
[[Minor infractions becoming long term incarceration]]
<<set $tellgabriel to "true">>There was little doubt that what had happened the other day with Caliban was weighing on him. Gabriel was not a man who was designed to sit by and let injustice run free but it was the habit he had fallen into over the years. No one had pointed that out to him until now.
“I wanted to give you some space,” I told him. “I figured it probably wasn’t the right time to approach you yet. I wanted to wait until you were ready.”
His face was pensive and I wasn’t certain if he would ever be ready. Gabriel was at a precipice now. Either he began to change, or he had to admit that the good that he claimed to serve, was no longer important to him.
Eyes trained upon the lanterns above, the deep amber hues of them reflecting against the silver cast of his gaze, he looked like he was struggling to find the words. “Do you believe that how I have been allowing the Night Market to operate is wrong?”
“You know I do,” I told him.
“Could you please explain specifically what you think is troublesome.” He looked at me nervously. “I believe that the situation of Caliban may need further thought than I had originally given it. And you have made some point in which I would like to follow up on.”
[[The flesh pits]]
[[The auction block]]
[[Minor infractions becoming long term incarceration]]“Are you sure?” Looking at him from the corner of my eye, I tried to gauge him. There was no indication that anything had been wrong while we had been in conversation with Odin. Gabriel was the perfect example of stoicism and compartmentalization. But the second we had left, I felt it like a weight. We hadn’t talked since Caliban. I had given him space and he had not sought me out. It had been a long night last night, in which I was predominantly alone. “I know what happened is a lot. That it’s probably making you question a lot of things you once believed. If you need more time, Gabriel, I will gladly give it.”
Eyes trained upon the lanterns above, the deep amber hues of them reflecting against the silver cast of his gaze, he looked like he was struggling to find the words. “Do you believe that how I have been allowing the Night Market to operate is wrong?”
“You know I do,” I told him.
“Could you please explain specifically what you think is troublesome.” He looked at me nervously. “I believe that the situation of Caliban may need further thought than I had originally given it. And you have made some point in which I would like to follow up on.”
[[The flesh pits]]
[[The auction block]]
[[Minor infractions becoming long term incarceration]]The list was long. Far longer than I think he wanted to hear at the moment, so I chose one. The one that felt the most significant to me. “The flesh pits. I shouldn’t even have to explain to you why that was and still is wrong. The fact that I am even standing here and talking to you, knowing what it is you allow, is an absolute miracle all on its own."
“So why are you?” he asked carefully.
I pulled my coat a bit tighter around myself, pushing my hands in the confines of my pockets. “Because over the last few weeks it has become very clear to me that your intention within the market is never bad. You simply are a stranger to morality as a whole and I don’t think you are someone that has been held accountable for such heinous actions.”
“And does that excuse the behavior?”
“No,” I stated simply. “But it does give me hope that you might want to change. You and I both know that there is no scenario where piling people that you deem unsavable or irredeemable into a pit, is an okay thing to do. Putting aside that I think half those people were there simply because they were being uncooperative, no one deserves that Gabriel. Yes, there are bad people. Sometimes they are not savable. But for your solution to be that? Why would you think that it is okay?”
We turned a corner, stopping at the three-tiered fountain. The water was low today, the koi within struggling to swim. “If I am being honest with you, I did not think about it.”
I wanted to say it surprised me. I really wished it had. But Gabriel was a follower. He was given orders and he carried them through to near perfection.
“And are you thinking about it now?” I asked.
He nodded. “Very much so.” His voice cracked a little. “$name, I have never enjoyed my job. Not once. But when I took the position, I was told this was how the rules were set up. They were rules that worked. Most Wardens before me had been killed and I was trying to juggle this new life of mine along with watching my back and watching the backs of my recruits. It- it is in no way an excuse. But, I was not someone trained to think.”
Stopping, I turned to him. I could see on his face how the conversation was paining him. How he hated what he was confessing. And how could he not? He was basically confessing that people had lost their lives due to his lack of consideration.
<<if $gabriel == "sub">> “Come back to Hazel’s with me. Take the rest of the day off.”
<<elseif $gabriel == "dom">> “Would you like to come back to Hazel’s with me? I would like it if you could take the rest of the day off so we could talk about this.”<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>“Of course,” he said. Picking up my hand, he pressed his lips to my knuckles. “I wish to still be yours if you will have me.”
I curled my fingers around his own, pressing his hand to my cheek before letting it fall. <<elseif $gabrielro == "false">>”Let’s just go back to Hazel’s,” I said with a sigh, not sure if I was getting anywhere. “We can talk more there.”
“Of course,” he intoned.<</if>>
We walked the rest of the way to Hazel’s in silence, barely even looking at each other until we made our way upstairs towards the living area. At some point, Hazel had baked more muffins. They sat steaming on the coffee table along with a full pot of tea.
[[The Night Market deserves a better Warden]]
[[Why are you continuing to turn a blind eye to all of this?]]
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[I cannot be with you if this is what you wish to continue to do]]<</if>>The list was long. Far longer than I think he wanted to hear at the moment, so I chose one. The one that felt the most significant to me. “The auction block. It doesn’t matter the crime. Severe or minor. You make them pay off their time with indentured servitude, Gabriel. Not only are you giving the potential to just put bad people back in the market, but you are bringing about the potential to give good people who made a mistake, to some truly heinous individuals.”
He startled at that. “No, $name, we do vet who is buying others. We do not let anyone with a past record to purchase someone else’s crime.”
“And you think, in the history of the Night Market, no one has ever fooled you? Isn’t Elias a frequenter of the pits? Do you not think that individuals who wish harm aren’t sending proxy’s in their stead?”
We turned a corner, stopping at the three-tiered fountain. The water was low today, the koi within struggling to swim. “If I am being honest with you, I did not think about it.”
I wanted to say it surprised me. I really wished it had. But Gabriel was a follower. He was given orders and he carried them through to near perfection.
“And are you thinking about it now?” I asked.
He nodded. “Very much so.” His voice cracked a little. “$name, I have never enjoyed my job. Not once. But when I took the position, I was told this was how the rules were set up. They were rules that worked. Most Wardens before me had been killed and I was trying to juggle this new life of mine along with watching my back and watching the backs of my recruits. It- it is in no way an excuse. But, I was not someone trained to think.”
Stopping, I turned to him. I could see on his face how the conversation was paining him. How he hated what he was confessing. And how could he not? He was basically confessing that people had lost their lives due to his lack of consideration.
<<if $gabriel == "sub">> “Come back to Hazel’s with me. Take the rest of the day off.”
<<elseif $gabriel == "dom">> “Would you like to come back to Hazel’s with me? I would like it if you could take the rest of the day off so we could talk about this.”<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>“Of course,” he said. Picking up my hand, he pressed his lips to my knuckles. “I wish to still be yours if you will have me.”
I curled my fingers around his own, pressing his hand to my cheek before letting it fall. <<elseif $gabrielro == "false">>”Let’s just go back to Hazel’s,” I said with a sigh, not sure if I was getting anywhere. “We can talk more there.”
“Of course,” he intoned.<</if>>
We walked the rest of the way to Hazel’s in silence, barely even looking at each other until we made our way upstairs towards the living area. At some point, Hazel had baked more muffins. They sat steaming on the coffee table along with a full pot of tea.
[[The Night Market deserves a better Warden]]
[[Why are you continuing to turn a blind eye to all of this?]]
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[I cannot be with you if this is what you wish to continue to do]]<</if>>The list was long. Far longer than I think he wanted to hear at the moment, so I chose one. The one that felt the most significant to me. “You arrested me because I did not have papers. And I do understand the idea behind that. You are trying to keep control of the market. Make sure you are monitoring who comes and goes. I get it. But, Gabriel, I was spit out onto the market streets. I was disoriented. Scared. Alone. And what did the authorities of the market do? The ones who are supposed to protect people like me? They tossed me in a cell.”
He flinched. Our first meeting was not a kind one.
“Then, when you came along, and I tried to explain it to you, you were far more interested in getting my credentials for that little book of yours simply so you could have a record. I’m not even sure what purpose that record serves given that it is clear that once your prisoners are out of your ‘care’, you have nothing to do with them again.”
His eyes ticked away. “It’s for advertisement.”
“Excuse me?”
“Certain market goers pay top coin for individuals’ that fit certain credentials. Whatever I put in those books goes out almost as a news flash to them.”
I stared at him dumbfounded, unable to form my words immediately. In the end, I had to take several deep breaths. “And you don’t think that is wrong?”
We turned a corner, stopping at the three-tiered fountain. The water was low today, the koi within struggling to swim. “If I am being honest with you, I did not think about it.”
I wanted to say it surprised me. I really wished it had. But Gabriel was a follower. He was given orders and he carried them through to near perfection.
“And are you thinking about it now?” I asked.
He nodded. “Very much so.” His voice cracked a little. “$name, I have never enjoyed my job. Not once. But when I took the position, I was told this was how the rules were set up. They were rules that worked. Most Wardens before me had been killed and I was trying to juggle this new life of mine along with watching my back and watching the backs of my recruits. It- it is in no way an excuse. But, I was not someone trained to think.”
Stopping, I turned to him. I could see on his face how the conversation was paining him. How he hated what he was confessing. And how could he not? He was basically confessing that people had lost their lives due to his lack of consideration.
<<if $gabriel == "sub">> “Come back to Hazel’s with me. Take the rest of the day off.” <<elseif $gabriel == "dom">> “Would you like to come back to Hazel’s with me? I would like it if you could take the rest of the day off so we could talk about this.”<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>“Of course,” he said. Picking up my hand, he pressed his lips to my knuckles. “I wish to still be yours if you will have me.”
I curled my fingers around his own, pressing his hand to my cheek before letting it fall. <<elseif $gabrielro == "false">>”Let’s just go back to Hazel’s,” I said with a sigh, not sure if I was getting anywhere. “We can talk more there.”
“Of course,” he intoned.<</if>>
We walked the rest of the way to Hazel’s in silence, barely even looking at each other until we made our way upstairs towards the living area. At some point, Hazel had baked more muffins. They sat steaming on the coffee table along with a full pot of tea.
[[The Night Market deserves a better Warden]]
[[Why are you continuing to turn a blind eye to all of this?]]
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[I cannot be with you if this is what you wish to continue to do]]<</if>>Curling next to him on the sofa, I sipped my tea. Billows was somewhere, swatting a piece of paper. Hazel must have been out in the garden, gathering herb bundles and tending to the plants during the frost. The cat had been glued to her side whenever she was home. I was surprised he was even here now.
“The Night Market deserves a better Warden,” I told him. “One who will take care of the people.”
“I know,” he said calmly.
“Do you? Because Gabriel, the market is dying and I doubt decisions like this are helping keep it from fading away entirely.”
Looking at me sharply, he rose from the sofa, pacing the small stretch of room. “Don’t you think I don’t understand that? Don’t you think I look at what I have been doing and wonder if I’ve been a fool all these years? I thought I was trading in one questionable job for something good in this world and it turns out that I may be the one wielding the harm. I know the Night Market deserves a better Warden and if I thought that I could trust anyone to take the job I would gladly give it to them. But most of the people I know think the way I do and I cannot guarantee that my actions won’t, yet again, cause harm.”
He stopped, eyes bright and breathes labored. Dark smudges were pressed beneath his eyes and I wondered if he had stayed up the night before, thinking about this. If he had been going over what I had told him, what had happened to Caliban, my decision, and wrapping himself in a knot so tight that he couldn’t figure out how to set himself free.
<<if $gabriel == "sub">> “Gabriel,” I started softly. “Sit down.” He did so without question and a part of me felt guilt. Following an order was just so engrained in him that he didn’t even realize his actions anymore.<</if>>
“You are asking me to just dismantle everything,” he hissed. “Everything that has been put in place here. Everything I know. How am I even supposed to do that?”
[[One step at a time]]
[[You have faith. In yourself]]
[[I am asking you to start looking at things as opposed to letting everyone else use you]]Curling next to him on the sofa, I sipped my tea. Billows was somewhere, swatting a piece of paper. Hazel must have been out in the garden, gathering herb bundles and tending to the plants during the frost. The cat had been glued to her side whenever she was home. I was surprised he was even here now.
“Why are you continuing to turn a blind eye to all of this?” I asked. “A few things slipping through the cracks I understand but I saw you at Elias’s. You know that this is wrong.”
He didn’t answer me at first. I didn’t know if it was because he was scrambling for something that would make any of this better or if he was weighing what he actually wished to tell me. I could see upon his face though the horror. It wasn’t obvious to the people that didn’t know him, but his eyes looked haunted. He was very much a man coming to terms with the life he had chosen to lead.
“I…” He started and then stopped, frowning at whatever thought had passed his head. It was clear it was not sitting right with him but he was not conjuring another answer. At least I knew it would be the truth, no matter how hard it might be to hear. “I am unsure why I did not say anything,” he said quietly. “When I was a celestial, back in the arms of the Knowing, we were taught not to question. There was always a plan. Even if we could not see that plan yet. So, when I started discovering things within the market that felt wrong, I had to tell myself to have faith. To just believe. It would all work out in the end.”
“But when it didn’t?”
“I still don’t know if it didn’t,” he said quietly. “No one will ever know. Not until the end. It was never my place to question, $name. I was simply supposed to have faith. I–” he faltered, turning away from me.
<<if $gabriel == "sub">> “Gabriel,” I said softly. “Look at me.” He looked like he didn’t wish to for a moment, hiding his eyes from my own. When they did turn back, they were wet and filled with anguish.<</if>>
“I have faith, $name. Even in the light of atrocity and strife, I have faith.”
Leaning forward, I took his hand in mine. “You can have faith and still question authority,” I told him. It was clear he did not believe that to be true. The Knowing, whatever they were, had truly brainwashed him.
Clearing his throat, he set aside his tea. “You are asking me to cast aside decades old rules. I am unsure how to do that.”
[[One step at a time]]
[[You have faith. In yourself]]
[[I am asking you to start looking at things as opposed to letting everyone else use you]]
Curling next to him on the sofa, I sipped my tea. Billows was somewhere, swatting a piece of paper. Hazel must have been out in the garden, gathering herb bundles and tending to the plants during the frost. The cat had been glued to her side whenever she was home. I was surprised he was even here now.
“I meant what I said. I cannot be with you if you continue going down this road.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I am not angry over that.”
“But Gabriel,” I rested my hand upon his knee. “You need to do this for you. Not for me. You need to make these changes because you believe they are right.”
I watched as he took in a shaky breath, something about my words hitting far too close to a nerve he tried hard to keep hidden. “Why can it not be both?”
“Will it be both? Or will you be just using me as your reason to change?”
“I- I don’t know.” Frustration began leaking into his tone as he set his tea aside and shifted uncomfortably next to me. “What you have pointed out makes me feel terrible, $name. I am meant to serve and protect but it looks as if the people I am serving and protecting are the very ones that don’t deserve my help at all. But I was taught, from the time I was placed within existence, to trust. To have //faith//. The Knowing always has a plan and while it may seem harsh or unfair, it is a plan that is meant to be. How can I actively work against that?”
“I don’t have an answer to that,” I told him softly. “I really wish I did but it sounds like those are two very deep and fundamental truths that you need to discover on your own.”
“I can’t,” he growled in frustration. I didn’t jump at the sudden reverb of his voice. I had been expecting it much earlier. “I can’t just do that. You are asking me to just dismantle everything. Everything that has been put in place here. Everything I know. How am I even supposed to do that?”
[[One step at a time]]
[[You have faith. In yourself]]
[[I am asking you to start looking at things as opposed to letting everyone else use you]]Gabriel was a man that kept himself under tight control. Who prided himself of being the perfect image of perfection. He was stoic. He was calm in a crisis. And he was unwavering. Yet the cracks were there. I could see it now. Due to his title I didn’t think many had questioned him. Except, perhaps, for Belladonna. But as I began unraveling the very foundation of what he based his day-to-day actions upon, I could see it. Gabriel was slipping and he didn’t know where to grab onto.
“You don’t expect changes overnight,” I told him. “You don’t even expect for them all to be fixed in a year. But you take what you want to do first, and you start dismantling it, reshaping these market rules into something you can live with. It’s going to be a long process, but you can do it, Gabriel. One step at a time.”
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>He looked at me then, his gaze dark, pinning me to my seat. “And you will be there?” he asked, a note of hope slipping within his tone.
“I want to be,” I told him. It was enough. I could see it. It was enough to ease some of the tension he had been holding.<</if>>
I could see the truth as it settled across him heavily. It made him slump a little in place and his eyes shut. I did believe Gabriel to be a good man. What I knew about the Knowing, and the more I continued to find out about them, was far more concerning when put into the context of the man that was now in front of me. How many others like Gabriel were out there? How many people had taken advantage of that situation?
Sipping at my tea, I felt my chest tighten in a sudden knotted ache. I coughed a little into the brew, trying to drink some of it to clear my throat.
“$name?” Gabriel was in front of me suddenly, concern etched across his face. With the back of his hand, he placed it to my forehead. “You are burning up.”
I waved him off. “I’m a little under the weather. Stress. Probably.”
“For how long?”
“Just a little while.” I didn’t remember, if we were being honest. If I really looked back on it, I hadn’t been feeling good since the Deep. Maybe a little before? I had a lot of headaches around that time. “I think I am just tired,” I told him. It was the mantra I was starting to adopt. I’m just tired. Everything will be fine. I just need a little sleep.
To my surprise, Gabriel picked me up, strong arms lifting me from the sofa as he began walking towards my room. “What are you doing?” I asked, startled at the sudden display.
“You should not be listening to my woes if you are under the weather. I am tucking you in and then getting some tonics from Ms. Albright. I will make you soup if I have to.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Are you even a good cook?”
“I will have you know I am an excellent cook.”
Depositing me on the bed, he stared at me for a brief moment. “Do you have something more comfortable to change into.” I nodded, suddenly feeling like I could fall asleep right there. “You should do that and then get under the covers.”
<<if $gabriel == "sub">>I rolled my eyes. “So much for you following orders,” I murmured.
Kneeling by my bed, he took my chin in his hand and suddenly, I felt my world zero in on him once more. “I assure you, I enjoy following orders very much. Especially if they are given by you. But, right now, you are sick. No games. I will be taking care of you.” I raised my brow at him and watched as he ducked his head down. “Please,” he murmured.
I grinned. “Good boy.” <</if>>
I wanted to continue this. I wanted to see just how he would take care of me. But suddenly my body was aching and I was going down hill fast. Forgoing any sort of sleep clothes, I curled on my side, tucking my arm under my pillow. I felt Gabriel’s cool lips on my temple.
“Sleep, $name. I will watch over you until you are ready to face the world again.”
With those words in mind, I drifted off.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]Gabriel was a man that kept himself under tight control. Who prided himself of being the perfect image of perfection. He was stoic. He was calm in a crisis. And he was unwavering. Yet the cracks were there. I could see it now. Due to his title I didn’t think many had questioned him. Except, perhaps, for Belladonna. But as I began unraveling the very foundation of what he based his day-to-day actions upon, I could see it. Gabriel was slipping and he didn’t know where to grab onto.
“You speak of faith,” I told him. “You have faith in this Knowing because that is where you are from. It was once all you knew. But, Gabriel, you should have faith in yourself. You are a good person. Your gut knows right from wrong. Have faith that you will make the right choices.”
“But I haven’t,” he said helplessly. And that’s what it was coming down to. He had once trusted the process and now I was asking him to trust himself. But how could he when he was the one who had blindly started walking down this path.
“You will,” I told him. There was little doubt in my mind, given how he was reacting now, that Gabriel would change. He cared far too much. He simply needed to stop and think first. To trust his own intuition.
I could see the truth as it settled across him heavily. It made him slump a little in place and his eyes shut. I did believe Gabriel to be a good man. What I knew about the Knowing, and the more I continued to find out about them, was far more concerning when put into the context of the man that was now in front of me. How many others like Gabriel were out there? How many people had taken advantage of that situation?
Sipping at my tea, I felt my chest tighten in a sudden knotted ache. I coughed a little into the brew, trying to drink some of it to clear my throat.
“$name?” Gabriel was in front of me suddenly, concern etched across his face. With the back of his hand, he placed it to my forehead. “You are burning up.”
I waved him off. “I’m a little under the weather. Stress. Probably.”
“For how long?”
“Just a little while.” I didn’t remember, if we were being honest. If I really looked back on it, I hadn’t been feeling good since the Deep. Maybe a little before? I had a lot of headaches around that time. “I think I am just tired,” I told him. It was the mantra I was starting to adopt. I’m just tired. Everything will be fine. I just need a little sleep.
To my surprise, Gabriel picked me up, strong arms lifting me from the sofa as he began walking towards my room. “What are you doing?” I asked, startled at the sudden display.
“You should not be listening to my woes if you are under the weather. I am tucking you in and then getting some tonics from Ms. Albright. I will make you soup if I have to.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Are you even a good cook?”
“I will have you know I am an excellent cook.”
Depositing me on the bed, he stared at me for a brief moment. “Do you have something more comfortable to change into.” I nodded, suddenly feeling like I could fall asleep right there. “You should do that and then get under the covers.”
<<if $gabriel == "sub">>I rolled my eyes. “So much for you following orders,” I murmured.
Kneeling by my bed, he took my chin in his hand and suddenly, I felt my world zero in on him once more. “I assure you, I enjoy following orders very much. Especially if they are given by you. But, right now, you are sick. No games. I will be taking care of you.” I raised my brow at him and watched as he ducked his head down. “Please,” he murmured.
I grinned. “Good boy.” <</if>>
I wanted to continue this. I wanted to see just how he would take care of me. But suddenly my body was aching and I was going down hill fast. Forgoing any sort of sleep clothes, I curled on my side, tucking my arm under my pillow. I felt Gabriel’s cool lips on my temple.
“Sleep, $name. I will watch over you until you are ready to face the world again.”
With those words in mind, I drifted off.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]Gabriel was a man that kept himself under tight control. Who prided himself with fastidious perfection. He was stoic. He was calm in a crisis. And he was unwavering. Yet the cracks were there. I could see it now. Due to his title I didn’t think many had questioned him. Except, perhaps, for Belladonna. But as I began unraveling the very foundation of what he based his day-to-day actions upon, I could see it. Gabriel was slipping and he didn’t know where to grab onto.
“You need to start looking at the problems in front of you and taking care when making decisions. You need to stop everyone else from using you. The people who put these rules into place, or the ones that are pressuring you to keep them? They aren’t doing that for the good of the market, Gabriel. They are doing that for their own selfish gain.”
I could see the truth as it settled across him heavily. It made him slump a little in place and his eyes shut. I did believe Gabriel to be a good man. What I knew about the Knowing, and the more I continued to find out about them, was far more concerning when put into the context of the man that was now in front of me. How many others like Gabriel were out there? How many people had taken advantage of that situation?
Sipping at my tea, I felt my chest tighten in a sudden knotted ache. I coughed a little into the brew, trying to drink some of it to clear my throat.
“$name?” Gabriel was in front of me suddenly, concern etched across his face. With the back of his hand, he placed it to my forehead. “You are burning up.”
I waved him off. “I’m a little under the weather. Stress. Probably.”
“For how long?”
“Just a little while.” I didn’t remember, if we were being honest. If I really looked back on it, I hadn’t been feeling good since the Deep. Maybe a little before? I had a lot of headaches around that time. “I think I am just tired,” I told him. It was the mantra I was starting to adopt. I’m just tired. Everything will be fine. I just need a little sleep.
To my surprise, Gabriel picked me up, strong arms lifting me from the sofa as he began walking towards my room. “What are you doing?” I asked, startled at the sudden display.
“You should not be listening to my woes if you are under the weather. I am tucking you in and then getting some tonics from Ms. Albright. I will make you soup if I have to.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Are you even a good cook?”
“I will have you know I am an excellent cook.”
Depositing me on the bed, he stared at me for a brief moment. “Do you have something more comfortable to change into.” I nodded, suddenly feeling like I could fall asleep right there. “You should do that and then get under the covers.”
<<if $gabriel == "sub">>I rolled my eyes. “So much for you following orders,” I murmured.
Kneeling by my bed, he took my chin in his hand and suddenly, I felt my world zero in on him once more. “I assure you, I enjoy following orders very much. Especially if they are given by you. But, right now, you are sick. No games. I will be taking care of you.” I raised my brow at him and watched as he ducked his head down. “Please,” he murmured.
I grinned. “Good boy.” <</if>>
I wanted to continue this. I wanted to see just how he would take care of me. But suddenly my body was aching and I was going down hill fast. Forgoing any sort of sleep clothes, I curled on my side, tucking my arm under my pillow. I felt Gabriel’s cool lips on my temple.
“Sleep, $name. I will watch over you until you are ready to face the world again.”
With those words in mind, I drifted off.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]I waited until I knew Milo was well and truly gone before turning to Hazel fully. “That was weird.” She turned to me with a small frown, pausing in her task of cleaning up the front counters. She had been making something when Milo had walked in. The remnants of which were still scattered across the wood.
“How so?”
“He’s just been acting weird lately. He won’t look me in the eye. Makes an excuse to leave when I enter the room.” Milo and I were not close, I would say. Not like how he and Hazel were. But even I could tell that there was something far more going on than what we were all outwardly acknowledging.
“He’s a bit on edge,” Hazel agreed. “But I promise. It has far more to do with past events than anything else. He hates the Barons. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak of them kindly. Us all being involved with them, especially after everything with Malcolm, just has him on edge.”
Walking over to the front counter, I leaned against it. There was nothing I could really say to that. Hazel, out of everyone, knew Milo the best. If something was going on, she would be the first to see it.
“I did speak to him today about protection though,” she commented. “Hopefully it can put all our minds at ease. There is no telling what people will do once they know you have been collecting the Baron’s favors.”
“You really think it will get out?”
“I know it will,” she said. “Things like that never stay secret for long.”
[[We will take this as we go]]
[[The more protection the better]]
[[At least we have powerful people in our corner too]]“That was nice of Milo,” I commented. Coming over to the counter, I leaned against it, eyeing the muffins. They looked inedible but it was the thought that counted.
“It was. I think he is feeling a bit guilty for the tiff we’ve been in as of late.”
“It’s understandable. Both of you have strong opinions on the matter.” She hummed a bit in response, absently putting things from the day's orders away. I had known them for such little time but even I could tell that their fighting was not something usual around here. The snipping was much more in line with Belladonna and Gabriel. Maybe this would be the cease fire they needed.
“I talked to him a bit,” she commented. “About what we should be doing in the upcoming days. He agreed that we are playing with fire in this whole Baron ordeal. While I do think we are relatively safe for now, we need to start taking precautions. There are a few spells I can handle without them being too invasive.”
“I thought magic was not allowed in the market.” It was clear that the declaration was nothing more than words that simply had an expectation to be followed. At this point, I was almost certain that magic was commonplace for most wandering the streets. They all just pretended that it was absent from this realm.
Hazel ignored my statement, lending further proof to my theory, and continued putting away the days stock. “We’ll just need to be careful. There is no telling what people will do once they know you have been collecting the Baron’s favors.”
“You really think it will get out?”
“I know it will,” she said. “Things like that never stay secret for long.”
[[We will take this as we go]]
[[The more protection the better]]
[[At least we have powerful people in our corner too]]“Odin is officially taken care of,” I told her, walking towards the front counter and leaning heavily against it. I placed the feather down upon the counter. The little iron one that he had given me. Hazel glanced at it before turning back to me. “Yeah,” I said bitterly. “I let Caliban go and he gave it to me anyway.”
Hazel was staring at the favor in horror. “Why?”
“He said Caliban went right back to where they came from. It was his plan all along.”
“He played you?” she asked. I nodded my head, still feeling sick over the matter. I wanted to say that I should have seen it coming but I wasn’t sure how exactly I was supposed to do that when I was practically walking blind through the market. “Oh, $name. I am so sorry. That’s…”
“Typical of a Baron?” I asked with a grimace. Turning, I nabbed one of Milo’s muffins. They were hard as a rock. In fact, I was almost certain they would break a window. “I will be happy when this Baron business is over,” I told her.
“Me too. Though I am afraid it’s going to present us with a whole slew of new problems. I started looking into different ways to protect all of us. Right now we seem to be operating under the nose of everyone else but I have a feeling if we become known for meddling, things could become different.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “I’ve just seen how the market’s been before. You’ll be given part of the Baron's powers. And while you are using it for a very specific reason, people could twist this into you vying for a tenth Baron position.”
“You think a target is going to be painted on my back?”
“I hope not. I grew up watching my mother have immense power, however, and I don’t think there was a day that went by where someone didn’t take offense to it.”
I winced. Hazel’s mother was not an idol to live up to, from what I knew. While the comparison was not something I liked, I did see where Hazel’s concern was coming from.
[[We will take this as we go]]
[[The more protection the better]]
[[At least we have powerful people in our corner too]]“We will just take everything as we go,” I told her. New problems were arising at a near constant rate. There were certainly precautions we could take but I found myself almost not wishing to enter into such a headache. Not with the actual headache throbbing at my temples and the feeling of exhaustion that I hadn’t been able to shake. “Let’s just get the Baron's favors and go from there. Maybe when it's all said and done things won’t feel so dire anymore.”
Hazel sighed a little. “I hope you’re right.”
“It’s not like you not to be optimistic,” I pointed out.
The freckles on her face stood out the more tired she got. It was clear that I was not the only one in need of a week's worth of sleep. “I think I’ll close the shop for the day,” she said softly. “It was busy this morning and I could use with a break.” Straightening, she looked at me with concern. “Why don’t you head up to bed for the afternoon? You’re looking pale.”
“I think I’m catching a cold,” I told her. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Despite me not having done anything in the apothecary for what felt like a lifetime, I was still Hazel’s employee.<</if>> “Let me help you get cleaned up and then I’ll go take a nap.”
But, unsurprisingly, Hazel shooed me away. “No. Bed. Now,” she demanded. “I’m too short to carry you up the stairs by myself if you pass out.”
“I’ve seen you lift Milo,” I pointed out. Granted, it had been during a game night and her and Milo had been drinking and he may have jumped to help her given their height difference. Shaking my head, I rubbed at my eyes. “You know what? Yeah. Sleep. I’ll take you up on that.” I could feel the back of my throat scratch with a tickle. Now was not the time to get sick. “I’ll come find you when I get up and maybe I can make dinner tonight?”
It was doubtful Hazel would let me but she nodded all the same. “I won’t be long,” she said. “Maybe a few days of rest is what we all need.”
“Yeah,” I said. What we all need.
Trudging up the stairs, I made it to my room. Whatever it was that I was feeling was coming on hard and fast. Kicking off my shoes I crawled back under the covers that I had abandoned only a few hours ago and curled up on my side. I shivered with an oncoming chill but thankfully fell asleep soon after my head hit the pillow.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]“The more protection we put in place the better,” I told her. And not just for me, but for all of us. Gabriel was overworked, Belladonna was already high profile, Hazel was far too sweet and Milo wandered the darker parts of the streets. All it would take for any one of us to be taken advantage of would be one wrong move. Call it paranoia but I was not willing to put their lives on the line, nor mine, when there was a real possibility that we could do something to ensure our safety. At least somewhat.
“I’ll get going on a few simple things,” Hazel assured. “Then, when we have a little more free time, maybe I can work on a bigger protective sigil.” She yawned as she was speaking though and I couldn’t help but notice that Hazel probably needed a well deserved day off too.
“Why don’t you take the day?” I asked. “Close up shop.” Hazel didn’t need the money, I had learned. She merely abhorred the thought of someone in need that she would have to turn away.
“Maybe,” she conceded. It was a testament to how run down she was starting to get. “What about you? You don’t look as if you feel very good.”
“I think I’m catching a cold,” I told her. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Despite me not having done anything in the apothecary for what felt like a lifetime, I was still Hazel’s employee.<</if>> “Let me help you get cleaned up and then I’ll go take a nap.”
But, unsurprisingly, Hazel shooed me away. “No. Bed. Now,” she demanded. “I’m too short to carry you up the stairs by myself if you pass out.”
“I’ve seen you lift Milo,” I pointed out. Granted, it had been during a game night and her and Milo had been drinking and he may have jumped to help her given their height difference. Shaking my head, I rubbed at my eyes. “You know what? Yeah. Sleep. I’ll take you up on that.” I could feel the back of my throat scratch with a tickle. Now was not the time to get sick. “I’ll come find you when I get up and maybe I can make dinner tonight?”
It was doubtful Hazel would let me but she nodded all the same. “I won’t be long,” she said. “Maybe a few days of rest is what we all need.”
“Yeah,” I said. What we all need.
Trudging up the stairs, I made it to my room. Whatever it was that I was feeling was coming on hard and fast. Kicking off my shoes I crawled back under the covers that I had abandoned only a few hours ago and curled up on my side. I shivered with an oncoming chill but thankfully fell asleep soon after my head hit the pillow.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]“At least we have powerful people in our corner,” I told her. They may not have been Barons but they were people who had influence within the market. I doubted there were many who would cross either Belladonna or Gabriel. Even Milo, for all his squirrelly ways, was a force in his own right. I wasn’t even going to comment on what Hazel could do. “We’ll be okay,” I assured her.
She didn’t look certain but at the same time, after the last few meetings with the Barons, I didn’t know how I was. Pressing my fingers to my temples, I tried not to think about what all had happened and instead just focused on carving out some more time to sleep.
“I think I’ll close the shop for the day,” Hazel said softly. I could tell by her voice she was just as tired. “It was busy this morning and I could use with a break.” Straightening, she looked at me with concern. “Why don’t you head up to bed for the afternoon? You’re looking pale.”
“I think I’m catching a cold,” I told her. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Despite me not having done anything in the apothecary for what felt like a lifetime, I was still Hazel’s employee.<</if>> “Let me help you get cleaned up and then I’ll go take a nap.”
But, unsurprisingly, Hazel shooed me away. “No. Bed. Now,” she demanded. “I’m too short to carry you up the stairs by myself if you pass out.”
“I’ve seen you lift Milo,” I pointed out. Granted, it had been during a game night and her and Milo had been drinking and he may have jumped to help her given their height difference. Shaking my head, I rubbed at my eyes. “You know what? Yeah. Sleep. I’ll take you up on that.” I could feel the back of my throat scratch with a tickle. Now was not the time to get sick. “I’ll come find you when I get up and maybe I can make dinner tonight?”
It was doubtful Hazel would let me but she nodded all the same. “I won’t be long,” she said. “Maybe a few days of rest is what we all need.”
“Yeah,” I said. What we all need.
Trudging up the stairs, I made it to my room. Whatever it was that I was feeling was coming on hard and fast. Kicking off my shoes I crawled back under the covers that I had abandoned only a few hours ago and curled up on my side. I shivered with an oncoming chill but thankfully fell asleep soon after my head hit the pillow.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]<<if $freecaliban == "false">>“Can we talk?” From last night, I knew she needed space. And if I had just given that to her from the get go, not asked her to come with me despite her wishes, we wouldn’t have been in this situation. I needed her to know that I was sorry. That this wasn’t what I had intended at all and if I could just go back I would do it all differently.
“There is nothing that I’m ready to say,” she told me.
“Hazel, I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me. I had wanted you there for my own selfish–”
She put a hand up, stopping me. “I know why you wanted me to join you. That’s why I came. I am not discrediting what I did in this and that it was my actions that brought me there. But, not letting him go. Selling him out like that,” she shook her head. “I never thought you were capable of that.”
At that moment, I had been faced with the decision. Caliban or the market. One or many. It hurt. It hurt more than anything and there was a part of me that was so overwhelmingly relieved that he had gotten away. But the sting was there. The knowledge that Odin knew he would run cut through me. The man had just wanted to see the kind of person I was, what I would choose when faced with something difficult. He hadn’t even cared what the outcome would be.
“I don’t know what to say,” I told her. “I want to make this right. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right between us.”
She stared down at the now clean front counter, staring at his despondently. “I just need some time. I look at you and I want to reach out and touch you and hold you. I know that that night was hard. But, what you did– the fact that you just ignored the fear in his eyes… I just can’t. Not right now.”<<elseif $freecaliban == "true">> “Can we talk?” From last night, I knew she needed space. And if I had just given that to her from the get go, not asked her to come with me despite her wishes, we wouldn’t have been in this situation. I needed her to know that I was sorry. That this wasn’t what I had intended at all and if I could just go back I would do it all differently.
“There is nothing that I’m ready to say,” she told me.
“Hazel, I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me. I had wanted you there for my own selfish–”
She put a hand up, stopping me. “I know why you wanted me to join you. That’s why I came. And in the end, I am very happy that you let him go because I don't know where we would be if you hadn't. But, you still used our relationship to make me come with you. You put me in a position that made me feel backed into a corner."
"That's not what I was trying to do."
"It's how I feel, though," she said, looking up at me with gathering tears. "It's how I feel and I need some time to go through that. Because the second I said please don't ask me to do this, that should have been it. And maybe I was just a fool for not saying no. Not wanting you to be mad at me for saying no. But, I also don't feel comfortable with someone who knows my boundaries and still pushed. So I need some time."
I had wanted the woman who made me feel safe at my side. And it stung to know that I had pushed her into something she hadn't wanted. I could see the haunted look still in her eyes. The way she couldn't quite look at me. And I had done it all for what? Odin had known what was going to happen. The man had just wanted to see the kind of person I was, what I would choose when faced with something difficult. He hadn’t even cared what the outcome would be.
“I don’t know what to say,” I told her. “I want to make this right. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right between us.”
She stared down at the now clean front counter, staring at his despondently. “I just need some time. I look at you and I want to reach out and touch you and hold you. I know that that night was hard. But, what you did– the fact that you just ignored me… I just can’t. Not right now.” <</if>>
I felt my heart plummet. It felt like the end. Despite her asking for time, it felt as if it was time we just didn’t have. All I wanted was to go to her and hold her. Turn back the clocks somehow. But there was nothing. Her body was rigid and I knew if I approached her now, hope would be dashed, broken and bloody against the rocks.
So, instead I nodded. “Time,” I repeated, as if to myself. “I’m just going to head upstairs then. Get some sleep.” I hadn’t been feeling good and maybe this was the opportunity I needed to catch up on the rest I had been missing.
“That’s probably for the best,” she agreed. Milo’s words rang in my head at that. Numbly, I turned to leave her, every step up the stairs feeling like a weary trudge as I fought my own instinct to turn back.
When I laid down in my bed, my head was pounding and my stomach was in knots. Sleep. Maybe if I slept I would feel better. Maybe I would wake the next morning and this would be a nightmare. Maybe my grandmothers quilt would be tucked against me once more.
Shivering, I curled in on myself and fell into a restless slumber.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]<<if $freecaliban == "false">>“Hazel,” I began, taking a step forward. Upon her sharp look, I froze. She didn’t want me near her. My girl who loved to be held, who reached out for me in the dead of night, didn’t want me to even touch her. “I’m sorry,” I said, hopelessly.
I watched her eyes fill with tears and her jaw clench with her own emotion. “I know you are.”
“What can I do to make this up to you?”
“This isn’t a situation where you make something up,” she said brokenly. “It is not as if you forgot an event or said something out of turn. You were willing to condemn a man to their worst fear. I,” she shook her head. “I didn’t think you were capable of something like that.”
At that moment, I had been faced with the decision. Caliban or the market. One or many. It hurt. It hurt more than anything and there was a part of me that was so overwhelmingly relieved that he had gotten away. But the sting was there. The knowledge that Odin knew he would run cut through me. The man had just wanted to see the kind of person I was, what I would choose when faced with something difficult. He hadn’t even cared what the outcome would be.
“I don’t know what to say,” I told her. “I want to make this right. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right between us.”
She stared down at the now clean front counter, staring at his despondently. “I just need some time. I look at you and I want to reach out and touch you and hold you. I know that that night was hard. But, what you did– the fact that you just ignored the fear in his eyes… I just can’t. Not right now.”<<elseif $freecaliban == "true">> “Hazel,” I began, taking a step forward. Upon her sharp look, I froze. She didn’t want me near her. My girl who loved to be held, who reached out for me in the dead of night, didn’t want me to even touch her. “I’m sorry,” I said, hopelessly.
I watched her eyes fill with tears and her jaw clench with her own emotion. “I know you are.”
“What can I do to make this up to you?”
“This isn’t a situation where you make something up,” she said brokenly. “It is not as if you forgot an event or said something out of turn. You crossed my boundaries. You pushed me into something I didn't want."
"That wasn't what I intended. I just wanted you with me."
"The second I said please don't ask me to do this, that should have been it. And maybe I was just a fool for not saying no. Not wanting you to be mad at me for saying no. But, I also don't feel comfortable with someone who knows my boundaries and still pushed. So I need some time."
I had wanted the woman who made me feel safe at my side. And it stung to know that I had pushed her into something she hadn't wanted. I could see the haunted look still in her eyes. The way she couldn't quite look at me. And I had done it all for what? Odin had known what was going to happen. The man had just wanted to see the kind of person I was, what I would choose when faced with something difficult. He hadn’t even cared what the outcome would be.
“I don’t know what to say,” I told her. “I want to make this right. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right between us.”
She stared down at the now clean front counter, staring at his despondently. “I just need some time. I look at you and I want to reach out and touch you and hold you. I know that that night was hard. But, what you did– the fact that you just ignored the fear in his eyes… I just can’t. Not right now.”<</if>>
I felt my heart plummet. It felt like the end. Despite her asking for time, it felt as if it was time we just didn’t have. All I wanted was to go to her and hold her. Turn back the clocks somehow. But there was nothing. Her body was rigid and I knew if I approached her now, hope would be dashed, broken and bloody against the rocks.
So, instead I nodded. “Time,” I repeated, as if to myself. “I’m just going to head upstairs then. Get some sleep.” I hadn’t been feeling good and maybe this was the opportunity I needed to catch up on the rest I had been missing.
“That’s probably for the best,” she agreed. Milo’s words rang in my head at that. Numbly, I turned to leave her, every step up the stairs feeling like a weary trudge as I fought my own instinct to turn back.
When I laid down in my bed, my head was pounding and my stomach was in knots. Sleep. Maybe if I slept I would feel better. Maybe I would wake the next morning and this would be a nightmare. Maybe my grandmothers quilt would be tucked against me once more.
Shivering, I curled in on myself and fell into a restless slumber.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Dream]]A point of light sparked across the night. One soft glow that flickered in a sporadic pulse that lit the growing darkness and yet shone light onto nothing all the same.
Beneath me, I felt the world. The way the soft ripple of time shivered beneath my fingers. The air was thick and congealed and spoke of sickness as it dampened my lungs. But as I opened my mouth, there was no one else around. Not a sound. Not a form. Just the dark and the single light that tried to guide me.
Standing, I looked down at my bare legs, my toes pointed in the wavering surface of a black pool. I walked upon the glassy surface, feeling each step as if it took an eternity to make. But my heart was calm. Nothing more than a steady thud within a bone riddled chest. Looking down I could see the pulse of light within me. My shirt and skin now gone as a soft glow burned bright where my heart should be. Oddly, I felt no sense of panic but instead, a small sense of familiarity. As if I was greeting an old friend.
Walking to the light, I paused in front of it. I could see where it hung from a string. Just like the other lanterns within the market. It was tiny and struggling to fight off the darkness and I was overcome with the gripping terror that it would not win.
But I wanted it to. I didn’t want this little light to fade. I wished to hold it between my palms and let it know that it was going to be alright. Reaching out, I cupped it against the translucent shape of skin that stretched across the nebulous form. It was warm and sang in my grasp.
Leaning down, I touched my nose to its light. “I missed you too.”
When it chirped at me, I nodded, despite not knowing what it was trying to tell me or why. But as I stroked a thumb across its smooth surface, I smiled.
[[Turn the lantern azure|Lantern Light][$lantern to "azure"]]
[[Turn the lantern blush|Lantern Light][$lantern to "blush"]]
[[Turn the lantern sage|Lantern Light][$lantern to "sage"]]
[[Turn the lantern lavender|Lantern Light][$lantern to "lavender"]]
[[Keep the lantern amber|Lantern Light][$lantern to "amber"]]
The lantern bust to life in my hands, a brilliant $lantern color, trilling with happiness. I felt it roll across my skin, as all around me the hung up lanterns began to come to life, combating the dark with various shades of $lantern. I smiled, looking all around me.
But then, one by one, they popped. They snapped with the sickening sound of broken glass, falling away in a burst of fallen glitter. Looking back down at the light in my hand I watched as it moved weakly. Suddenly not so bright.
“No,” I cried softly, breathing on its frail body as if to bring it back to me. “No. Please don’t go.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I cradled it close.
“Please don’t go.”
I could feel it though. The gentle pulse in my hand. The life it was trying so hard to be. It was unfair. Why was it that it didn’t get to live? Who decided that it had to brighten the world but not roam its streets? Why was it that there were people born in this life to responsibility while everyone else got to walk around uncaring, naive to the horrors of the darkest corners. Safe because the light protected them.
I felt a tear slip down my cheek as the light died.
It had only wanted to live. Just once.
<<if $miloro == "false">>[[Next|Chapter ten 2]]<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Milo's Dream]]<</if>>
A feather-light and cool touch danced across my cheeks, rousing me from my sleep. My eyes cracked open to see a wisp hovering above me, the small little blue puff of light bobbing against my cheeks, cooing and giggling. It was a sound I often heard outside my window at night and one that I had fallen asleep to countless times before. They had never come into my room though. But as this particular one drifted away, I looked upwards and saw that they had taken up residence on my ceiling. They were spread outwards among the rafters, twining around them in iridescent waves of blue and green. I could hear their whispers, the soft lilt of their voices, but could make nothing out.
Sitting up, I looked around the room. My window was open like always and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except that Milo was asleep in the corner. Sitting in the old wing back chair, his hands rested on either arm as if he were poised to jump to action. His head hung uncomfortably down to his chest, rising and falling with each breath. I smiled at the sight. He always did look different in sleep. Less guarded. Though I could still so easily see the tension within his body. I wondered when the last time he had even slept properly was.
On the bedside table were several empty tonics and a bowl with what looked like rose water. A discarded rag hung over the lip of it. I felt better now as whatever had been harming me a distant memory. I supposed getting sick in a place like Hazel’s was the best outcome. She was one of the last chemists within the Night Market. That I knew of, at least. She was certainly far better at her job than people gave her credit for.
Milo snorted from the corner of the room, startling himself awake. He was at the edge of his seat, looking around him with blurry eyes and swatting at a few of the blue wisps that dipped down in front of his face. When he spotted me, relief flooded across him and he was out of his seat and by my side. His hand sought out my own, squeezing it gently.
“Well, it’s been a boring few days without you,” he told me.
“A few days?”
“Just a little under two. You’ve been sleeping.”
I didn’t remember any of it. After the stress of Caliban my body must have finally just given up. It probably should have after the Deep.
“What was wrong with me?” I asked.
“Fever of some sort,” he said with a shrug. “Hazel might know a bit better. She brewed you some tonics that seemed to have done the trick.” I remembered being cold. Then again, a chill had overtaken me since the Deep, really. I wondered if I had been steadily declining since then.
[[Did you stay here the entire time?]]
[[You know, now that I think about it, I’ve never actually seen you in Hazel’s apartment]]
[[Milo Next. Playing nursemaid. Sexy]]“Did you stay here the entire time I was sick?” I asked. Not once had I seen Milo in Hazel’s upstairs apartment. Game nights or any sort of dinner, always took place down in the small alcove in the apothecary’s lobby. Seeing him up here and in my room was suddenly a sight that didn’t make sense.
“I didn’t want to leave you,” he said simply. “I–” His face screwed up into something that was unreadable. Like he was trying to figure out how to approach it all. “I didn’t like seeing you like that.”
Tugging at his hand, I pulled him towards me. His feet were bare and he was in the same clothes I remembered him in before. Without hesitation, he climbed into bed, wrapping himself around me.
“How are you feeling now?” I was sure I smelled of two day old sweat and sickness but he nuzzled my neck anyway.
“Tired,” I told him. “But not like it was before. It was strange. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like someone was choking the life out of me or tearing me apart. I don’t know what happened.”
“I don’t know either. Never heard of an illness like that.”
I shifted closer. “You don’t think it has anything to do with what we’re doing, do you?” There had been so much in the shift of power. Barons were discarding favors and it was all accumulating in the small alcove in the back of Hazel’s shop.
He frowned a little, shifting uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”
“Magic is not supposed to be a thing in the Night Market. Yet, it’s very much a thing in the places I’ve been going lately. Can you get magic sick?”
“If you can, we’ve all been doomed.” He tipped his head down to look at me. “You know that half the time Hazel is probably slipping magic into our drinks and food.”
[[Yeah. I figured]]
[[Excuse me. What?]]I tilted my head towards him. It struck me how very little he had actually come up here. I searched my memories but anytime we had a game night or dinner, it all took place downstairs in the apothecary alcove.
“What?” he asked. “Did the wisps do something to me while I was sleeping?”
“No,” I said with a shake of the head. “I just realized I’ve never actually seen you up here. Why is that?”
“Ah,” he shifted uncomfortably. “I wasn’t intentionally avoiding it but uh– hard to be in the place you used to do family things in when you don’t have a part of your family. Felt odd to have Hazel up here all alone. So, I was kind of a baby about it and just pretended it didn’t exist.”
There had been a lot of pretending, I was coming to understand. A lot of avoiding. Tugging at his hand, I pulled him towards me. His feet were bare and he was in the same clothes I remembered him in before. Without hesitation, he climbed into bed, wrapping himself around me.
“How are you feeling now?” I was sure I smelled of two day old sweat and sickness but he nuzzled my neck anyway.
“Tired,” I told him. “But not like it was before. It was strange. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like someone was choking the life out of me or tearing me apart. I don’t know what happened.”
“I don’t know either. Never heard of an illness like that.”
I shifted closer. “You don’t think it has anything to do with what we’re doing, do you?” There had been so much in the shift of power. Barons were discarding favors and it was all accumulating in the small alcove in the back of Hazel’s shop.
He frowned a little, shifting uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”
“Magic is not supposed to be a thing in the Night Market. Yet, it’s very much a thing in the places I’ve been going lately. Can you get magic sick?”
“If you can, we’ve all been doomed.” He tipped his head down to look at me. “You know that half the time Hazel is probably slipping magic into our drinks and food.”
[[Yeah. I figured]]
[[Excuse me. What?]]I tugged at his hand. “You played nursemaid, didn’t you? Sat by my side, wiping my brow.”
He grinned. “You know me. I like administering thermometers. Big turn on for me.”
I snorted in laughter, tugging at his hand so he would move a little closer. His feet were bare and he was in the same clothes I remembered him in before. Without hesitation, he climbed into bed, wrapping himself around me.
“How are you feeling now?” I was sure I smelled of two day old sweat and sickness but he nuzzled my neck anyway.
“Tired,” I told him. “But not like it was before. It was strange. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like someone was choking the life out of me or tearing me apart. I don’t know what happened.”
“I don’t know either. Never heard of an illness like that.”
I shifted closer. “You don’t think it has anything to do with what we’re doing, do you?” There had been so much in the shift of power. Barons were discarding favors and it was all accumulating in the small alcove in the back of Hazel’s shop.
He frowned a little, shifting uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”
“Magic is not supposed to be a thing in the Night Market. Yet, it’s very much a thing in the places I’ve been going lately. Can you get magic sick?”
“If you can, we’ve all been doomed.” He tipped his head down to look at me. “You know that half the time Hazel is probably slipping magic into our drinks and food.”
[[Yeah. I figured]]
[[Excuse me. What?]]It didn’t come as a surprise really and the fact that Milo was so blasé about it felt kind of right. Hazel was far too sweet at her core to ever do anything nefarious to us. More than likely, she was giving us vitamins we lacked with our wayward diets.
“Yeah. I figured as much. She likes to push tea when she thinks I’m looking pale.”
“That sounds like Hazel.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, resting against each other and watching as the wisps played up above. They turned amber, much like the lights in the spice district and more akin to the hue of Milo’s eyes.
“I’ve never seen them do that before,” Milo mentioned. “They’ve always been silver blue.”
“Maybe they’re trying something new tonight.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
My fingers played across the Baron ring settled on his hand. Malcolm’s. I felt the small grooves of it, the way the signet was chipped in a few places. It looked tarnished and banged up. Taking his hand, I lifted it in front of my face, examining it closely. The image of a closed gate was pressed into the metal, the bars of which were black, the gold of them having been chippped over time. Milo’s fingers were long and bony and the ring itself looked almost too heavy for his finger.
“Do you think there’s any magic left in it?” I asked.
“What is it with you and magic tonight?”
I shrugged, pressing my thumbs to the sides. “I’m just wondering. It is a Baron ring, after all. The previous Gatekeepers. What if we just needed this all along?”
“I don’t think a ring can tell you who a Gatekeeper is.” He frowned. “Actually, no, a ring technically can. Since the current Gatekeeper would have one and it's not like everyone is going around with a giant ass signet ring on their finger.”
[[Is it possible the magic died with Malcolm?]]
[[Maybe you’re just keeping the ring warm for Malcolm]]
[[Milo, are you the Gatekeeper]]I blinked at him. “You’re joking.”
“Maybe? I’m not sure. She’ll confess if you ask her straight on but I just learned not too long ago. Besides, the stuff she slips us is harmless. It’s like herbal tonics and shit for good digestion.”
Weakly, I reached out and flicked his ear. “Don’t phrase things like that. Giving us vitamins and slipping us magic are two different things.”
“I didn’t know that,” he protested. I rolled my eyes at him, settling back against him.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, resting against each other and watching as the wisps played up above. They turned amber, much like the lights in the spice district and more akin to the hue of Milo’s eyes.
“I’ve never seen them do that before,” Milo mentioned. “They’ve always been silver blue.”
“Maybe they’re trying something new tonight.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
My fingers played across the Baron ring settled on his hand. Malcolm’s. I felt the small grooves of it, the way the signet was chipped in a few places. It looked tarnished and banged up. Taking his hand, I lifted it in front of my face, examining it closely. The image of a closed gate was pressed into the metal, the bars of which were black, the gold of them having been chippped over time. Milo’s fingers were long and bony and the ring itself looked almost too heavy for his finger.
“Do you think there’s any magic left in it?” I asked.
“What is it with you and magic tonight?”
I shrugged, pressing my thumbs to the sides. “I’m just wondering. It is a Baron ring, after all. The previous Gatekeepers. What if we just needed this all along?”
“I don’t think a ring can tell you who a Gatekeeper is.” He frowned. “Actually, no, a ring technically can. Since the current Gatekeeper would have one and it's not like everyone is going around with a giant ass signet ring on their finger.”
[[Is it possible the magic died with Malcolm?]]
[[Maybe you’re just keeping the ring warm for Malcolm]]
[[Milo, are you the Gatekeeper]]Holding our linked hands up, so the ring glinted in the light of the wisps, I felt his fingers twitch within mine. “Is there a possibility the magic died with Malcolm?” I asked him. “I’m worried we are going to get the Baron's favors and have nothing to show for it. The spell will be done, and no name will be revealed.”
“We have to get their favors first. Then we can go with something depressing like that.”
“I’m being serious,” I scolded.
Shifting, he slouched down in the bed a bit more. “Maybe the magic died with him,” he conceded. “But something is still there. Maybe it just went wrong. Not dead but different? It would make sense given how the gates have been presenting.”
“What do you mean?”
“They are uncontrolled,” he said in frustration. “Like they have a mind of their own. Or are maybe fighting against their nature. I don’t know. But I don’t think the Gatekeeper, whoever they are, has control of their magic. Not in the way they should.” He laughed a little, mirthless. “So maybe everything did die with Malcolm. Because it certainly isn’t like it was.”
There was nothing to say to that. It was a maudlin thought and one that provided us with no useful answers. Instead, I shifted against him, the tonics on the bedside table clinking.
"We should probably tell Hazel I'm awake," I told him. "She's probably worried."
When I tried to get out of bed, he yanked me back down. At first, I laughed, considering it another one of his antics, but then, I caught the look on his face. It was unguarded, the last few days shining through his amber eyes and letting me see how scared he had actually been.
“Do you think we could stay here like this for a bit longer? You and me?”
I settled back against him, “Of course.”
Tucking myself against him, so my head rested on his chest, I felt his hand come up to press to the back of my head, keeping me close. Our hands still remained clasped together, resting against the beat of his heart.
“Do you want to know something?” he whispered.
“Sure.”
“When I first met you, I didn’t think you were real.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
“Isn’t it? Kind of feel like an idiot for it now. But I thought… well, I don’t know what I thought. You were too good to be true though. The perfect answer to everything that felt out of control for me. And I was a selfish and stupid man, $name. I held you near. I wanted you for myself. And yet you went out into the world and became something so much more and I was actually angry about it. But now, looking at you, holding you, you are one of the most beautiful individual’s I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. Please, no matter what happens, don’t change.”
[[I won’t]]
[[Change is sometimes good]]
[[The broken record in me wants to ask if you’re okay again]]
<<set $askmilo to "false">>“Do you ever think,” I mused, “that you are just keeping the ring warm for Malcolm. When the day comes that he does actually come back, will he just resume his roll?”
“That’s if he comes back,” Milo muttered.
“Humor me?”
“Humor him taking a decade long death vacation? No thanks.”
Turning my face towards him, I kept my touch soothing. Malcolm was never going to be a subject that didn’t make him tense. “Would you mind though? If he was the Gatekeeper. Would it bother you?”
“It didn’t bother me when he was alive. Granted, I knew for the span of three days, so there wasn’t much time to really dwell on it.” When I continued to stare at him, he sighed, seeming to realize his caustic mood was uncalled for. “If Mal somehow was able to take back the role of the Gatekeeper, it would be fitting. He was obviously good at what he did. Maybe he’s who we actually need.”
“You sound upset by that.”
“Can you stop psychoanalyzing me, please? You were just sick. I want to take care of you.”
“Well now that I am never going to deny.”
Snuggling down against him, I dropped his hand, catching the look on his face. It was unguarded, the last few days shining through his amber eyes and letting me see how scared he had actually been. It made me want to shut out the rest of the world, the two of us wrapped up beneath the wisps forever.
There was nothing to say to that. It was a maudlin thought and one that provided us with no useful answers. Instead, I shifted against him, the tonics on the bedside table clinking.
"We should probably tell Hazel I'm awake," I told him. "She's probably worried."
When I tried to get out of bed, he yanked me back down. At first, I laughed, considering it another one of his antics, but then, I caught the look on his face. It was unguarded, the last few days shining through his amber eyes and letting me see how scared he had actually been.
“Do you think we could stay here like this for a bit longer? You and me?”
I settled back against him, “Of course.”
Tucking myself against him, so my head rested on his chest, I felt his hand come up to press to the back of my head, keeping me close. Our hands still remained clasped together, resting against the beat of his heart.
“Do you want to know something?” he whispered.
“Sure.”
“When I first met you, I didn’t think you were real.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
“Isn’t it? Kind of feel like an idiot for it now. But I thought… well, I don’t know what I thought. You were too good to be true though. The perfect answer to everything that felt out of control for me. And I was a selfish and stupid man, $name. I held you near. I wanted you for myself. And yet you went out into the world and became something so much more and I was actually angry about it. But now, looking at you, holding you, you are one of the most beautiful individual’s I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. Please, no matter what happens, don’t change.”
[[I won’t]]
[[Change is sometimes good]]
[[The broken record in me wants to ask if you’re okay again]]
<<set $askmilo to "false">>
Holding our linked hands up so the ring glinted in the light of the wisps, I didn’t turn to look at him, preferring not to see his face when I asked what I had been considering for some time. Though, I continued to rest against him, trusting that no matter what his answer would be, it would all be okay.
“Milo, are you the Gatekeeper?”
He laughed, tucking himself close. “I’d be a pretty shitty Gatekeeper if I was,” he said.
“That’s not an answer,” I pointed out.
“$name, the magic had to go to whoever killed the previous Baron. Kavatti killed him. I watched it happen. But because she is a Baron, she couldn’t double up on her powers, much to her dismay.”
“Then where did it go?”
“We’ve gone over this. To some sad sap. And let me just say, while I feel for the fucker that got cursed with the job, they also deserve whatever is coming to them.”
“What do you mean?” I hadn’t heard him speak so freely of that night before. He avoided anything to do with it. But laying here in bed, shut away from the rest of the world, might have been what he needed. There was no one to judge him at this moment but himself.
“They’re obviously the worst Gatekeeper in the history of the Night Market,” he said. “I don’t think we’ve ever had gates opening like this. Uncontrollably. The world is dying and yet they still are letting the realm get torn apart, letting in refugees and shit. The fact that they are sacrificing the Night Market due to their own ignorance is abysmal. I hope someone else comes along quick. Gets rid of them.”
I stared at him, trying to soothe the anger I heard in his voice. “That would be killing them.”
“Maybe that’s what they deserve.”
[[Yeah. Maybe]]
[[That’s dark]]
[[Everyone deserves saving]]
<<set $askmilo to "true">>
<<set $perception ++>>“Yeah. Maybe.” I didn’t know if I believed it to be true. We knew so little about the Gatekeeper and what was happening now. But Milo, it seemed, was starting to view the Gatekeeper as the source of all our problems, instead of our solution.
It left an acidic taste in my mouth.
“We should probably let Hazel know I’m awake,” I told him after the moments stretched on. “She’s probably been beside herself with worry.”
When I tried to get out of bed, he yanked me back down. At first, I laughed, considering it another one of his antics, but then, I caught the look on his face. It was unguarded, the last few days shining through his amber eyes and letting me see how scared he had actually been.
“Do you think we could stay here like this for a bit longer? You and me?”
I settled back against him, “Of course.”
Tucking myself against him, so my head rested on his chest, I felt his hand come up to press to the back of my head, keeping me close. His other hand remained clasped within mine, resting against the beat of his heart.
“Do you want to know something?” he whispered.
“Sure.”
“When I first met you, I didn’t think you were real.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
“Isn’t it? Kind of feel like an idiot for it now. But I thought… well, I don’t know what I thought. You were too good to be true though. The perfect answer to everything that felt out of control for me. And I was a selfish and stupid man, $name. I held you near. I wanted you for myself. And yet you went out into the world and became something so much more and I was actually angry about it. But now, looking at you, holding you, you are one of the most beautiful individuals I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. Please, no matter what happens, don’t change.”
[[I won’t]]
[[Change is sometimes good]]
[[The broken record in me wants to ask if you’re okay again]]“That’s dark,” I told him. I could see the way he was getting inside his own head. Something about the Gatekeeper was bothering him and not in that normal way. Milo, it seemed, was starting to view the Gatekeeper as the source of all our problems, instead of our solution.
It left an acidic taste in my mouth.
“We should probably let Hazel know I’m awake,” I told him after the moments stretched on. “She’s probably been beside herself with worry.”
When I tried to get out of bed, he yanked me back down. At first, I laughed, considering it another one of his antics, but then, I caught the look on his face. It was unguarded, the last few days shining through his amber eyes and letting me see how scared he had actually been.
“Do you think we could stay here like this for a bit longer? You and me?”
I settled back against him, “Of course.”
Tucking myself against him, so my head rested on his chest, I felt his hand come up to press to the back of my head, keeping me close. His other hand remained clasped within mine, resting against the beat of his heart.
“Do you want to know something?” he whispered.
“Sure.”
“When I first met you, I didn’t think you were real.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
“Isn’t it? Kind of feel like an idiot for it now. But I thought… well, I don’t know what I thought. You were too good to be true though. The perfect answer to everything that felt out of control for me. And I was a selfish and stupid man, $name. I held you near. I wanted you for myself. And yet you went out into the world and became something so much more and I was actually angry about it. But now, looking at you, holding you, you are one of the most beautiful individuals I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. Please, no matter what happens, don’t change.”
[[I won’t]]
[[Change is sometimes good]]
[[The broken record in me wants to ask if you’re okay again]]“Everyone deserves saving,” I told him, confused to how we had even gotten to this point. “If someone can be redeemed, if they can be saved, why wouldn’t we take it?”
I felt his lips ghost over the curve of my neck. “You are an incredibly optimistic person. I’m not sure how you have gotten that way.”
“I spend a lot of time with Hazel,” I joked. “Speaking of, we should probably let her know I’m awake. Knowing her she’s been beside herself with worry.”
When I tried to get out of bed, he yanked me back down. At first, I laughed, considering it another one of his antics, but then, I caught the look on his face. It was unguarded, the last few days shining through his amber eyes and letting me see how scared he had actually been.
“Do you think we could stay here like this for a bit longer? You and me?”
I settled back against him, “Of course.”
Tucking myself against him, so my head rested on his chest, I felt his hand come up to press to the back of my head, keeping me close. His other hand remained clasped within mine, resting against the beat of his heart.
“Do you want to know something?” he whispered.
“Sure.”
“When I first met you, I didn’t think you were real.”
“That’s a weird thing to say.”
“Isn’t it? Kind of feel like an idiot for it now. But I thought… well, I don’t know what I thought. You were too good to be true though. The perfect answer to everything that felt out of control for me. And I was a selfish and stupid man, $name. I held you near. I wanted you for myself. And yet you went out into the world and became something so much more and I was actually angry about it. But now, looking at you, holding you, you are one of the most beautiful individuals I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. Please, no matter what happens, don’t change.”
[[I won’t]]
[[Change is sometimes good]]
[[The broken record in me wants to ask if you’re okay again]]“I won’t,” I said with a frown, not sure if it was the answer he was looking for. He was clinging to me in a way I was not used to and there was an almost fevered desperation to his words. Something was wrong and had been for a long while and yet it felt like no matter what I tried, I could not get it out of him.
So I clung to him equally as hard, trying to relay to him that I was here. That I would always be here as long as he wanted me to. And in return, I hope he did the same for me. Too much had happened though since we started this with each other. The foundation we were building was rocky at best. I wanted to try harder with him. Perhaps even start over when this was all done. If Milo and I were going to be anything, it couldn’t be on the backs of mutual comfort and pain.
“Milo?” I asked. He hummed a little to let me know he was listening. “Don’t change either, okay?”
“What? You like secret caginess?” he asked.
“Well, at least you are now admitting to it.” Craning my neck up to look at him, I leveled my gaze upon his own. “I like who you are. Flaws and all. Don’t change unless you want to and know that I’ll take you even if you don’t feel like enough.”
He swallowed thickly, eyes becoming unexpectedly wet as he turned his head away and cleared his throat. “Get some sleep, $name. You’re still recovering.”
“Milo…”
Placing a kiss at the crown of my head, he pulled the blankets up over us. “If you don’t spike a fever tonight, then I will give you a cookie in the morning.”
“I’ve heard you’re a terrible baker.”
He gave me a wry look and rolled his eyes. “I’ll have Hazel give you a cookie in the morning.”
It didn’t relax me. Despite his joking tone, I still felt it in the way he held me. Like I was something precious and fragile. I didn’t know if the last few days had caught up to him. If what we had been doing in the Night Market was now solidified in some sort of stark reality he had not seen before. His deflection was enough to get my hackles up.
But I was also tired. No matter how much rest I had given myself lately, I was just so tired.
Closing my eyes, I slung my leg over his, making sure to pin him to the bed. He didn’t move. He wanted to be there.
It was the last thought I had before slipping back to sleep.
[[Next|Chapter ten 2]]
“Change isn’t all bad,” I told him, settling myself against him in a more comfortable position. “It can often times be a good thing.”
“Then why does it never feel that way?” His voice was small and cracked through with worry. All I could do was squeeze him to me, trying to let him know through my actions that I was there. For Milo, words didn’t always feel like enough.
“I think change can disguise itself as something terrible,” I told him. “But then, when we come out the other side, we realize that all the terrible things needed to happen to get to something good.”
“I’m glad you believe that.” He didn’t sound as pessimistic as I thought he would. Just oddly withdrawn.
Craning my neck up, I looked at him. “You don’t?” He shook his head. “Fine. Then I’ll believe it enough for the both of us.”
He swallowed thickly, eyes becoming unexpectedly wet as he turned his head away and cleared his throat. “Get some sleep, $name. You’re still recovering.”
“Milo…”
Placing a kiss at the crown of my head, he pulled the blankets up over us. “If you don’t spike a fever tonight, then I will give you a cookie in the morning.”
“I’ve heard you’re a terrible baker.”
He gave me a wry look and rolled his eyes. “I’ll have Hazel give you a cookie in the morning.”
It didn’t relax me. Despite his joking tone, I still felt it in the way he held me. Like I was something precious and fragile. I didn’t know if the last few days had caught up to him. If what we had been doing in the Night Market was now solidified in some sort of stark reality he had not seen before. His deflection was enough to get my hackles up.
But I was also tired. No matter how much rest I had given myself lately, I was just so tired.
Closing my eyes, I slung my leg over his, making sure to pin him to the bed. He didn’t move. He wanted to be there.
It was the last thought I had before slipping back to sleep.
[[Next|Chapter ten 2]]
“At a risk for sounding like a broken record here, are you okay?” It was clear he was not, but I didn’t know how else to pull it out of him.
“I like when I get serious, people automatically believe something to be wrong,” he mused.
“I believe something is wrong when your words sound an awful lot like a goodbye.” Fear shot through me. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t like him. The man that danced in the rain, who had kissed me beneath a waterfall, who had held my hand so tight after the Deep and who had walked the market streets with me, telling me stories, <<if $freethedonkies == "true">> freeing donkeys, <</if>>showing me the world. It felt like such a final note all of a sudden.
“I’m not saying goodbye,” he said softly. “I’m just making sure I tell you how I feel before I chicken out of it.”
“Why would you chicken out of it?” I asked.
“It’s amazing what we can convince ourselves of.” Placing a kiss at the crown of my head, he pulled the blankets up over us. “Now. Get some sleep. If you don’t spike a fever tonight, then I will give you a cookie in the morning.”
“I’ve heard you’re a terrible baker.”
He gave me a wry look and rolled his eyes. “I’ll have Hazel give you a cookie in the morning.”
It didn’t relax me. Despite his joking tone, I still felt it in the way he held me. Like I was something precious and fragile. I didn’t know if the last few days had caught up to him. If what we had been doing in the Night Market was now solidified in some sort of stark reality he had not seen before. His deflection was enough to get my hackles up.
But I was also tired. No matter how much rest I had given myself lately, I was just so tired.
Closing my eyes, I slung my leg over his, making sure to pin him to the bed. He didn’t move. He wanted to be there.
It was the last thought I had before slipping back to sleep.
[[Next|Chapter ten 2]]
I woke up alone. The wisps were out of the room, back in their proper place in Hazel’s garden. The twining oak outside my window was less bright than it had been before and as I rose from bed for the first time in what felt like days, I peeked my head out of the window. The wisps were in the tree, but they looked as if they were sleeping. All of them sat, vibrating but not as active as they normally were, their glowing lights far dimmer than I had ever seen. In the distance, the lantern light that lit up the rest of the market, right past the burnt out alley, looked dull as well. As if someone had taken each light and turned them down for the evening.
Dressing warmly, I gave myself a once over in the mirror. I looked weak. My skin a bit more colorless than usual and my eyes dull. Slipping on my shoes, still the same brown boots I had gotten from when I first arrived, I exited my room. So much had been going on that I had kind of forgotten to buy myself shoes. It seemed odd to do so now in the midst of everything.
The upper apartment was quiet as I exited my room, the embers in the hearth gray and cold. I took the stairs gingerly down to the apothecary, still feeling a bit fatigued but not thinking I could stay in bed for much longer. My bones felt achy with disuse. When I pushed open the door, Hazel and Belladonna were standing in the middle of the shop, and for once, Hazel didn’t look as afraid as she usually did in the face of the vampire.
“Belladonna, I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Hazel was saying, keeping both her head and voice low and she busied herself with restocking the shelves.
“I didn’t ask if you thought it was a good idea,” Belladonna said. There was a much sharper edge to her voice. I had always heard her keep calm when addressing Hazel but now it felt off, somehow.
“$name was really sick. We still don’t know why. Couldn’t you put off the meeting?”
“Of course. And in the meantime, another gate could open, and an entire district could be lost. Let me just pencil in our meeting though for right before the world ends. That should give us ample time to solve all our problems and bake some muffins afterward.”
When Hazel looked up at Belladonna it was not with the curtailed expression that I was used to seeing from her. Instead, her eyes looked tired and flat. The scarf that usually helped tie up her hair was gone, and her bun looked like it was held together with old sticks of willow.
Even Belladonna looked taken aback by her appearance.
“You can speak to $name when ?they wake up but if there is any indication that they are still not feeling good, I’m going to put my foot down and say no. ?Their life is far more important than these Baron rings.”
<<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>”Didn’t think you carried that sentiment with you any longer,” she said, her voice oil slick. “Rumor has it, heartbreak coats this shop.”
For Hazel’s credit, she did not falter. “And yet, I still stand by what I said.”<</if>>
Belladonna regarded her carefully. It was a slow once over that was searching for something specific. When she found it, her voice dipped low again, critical of whatever it was she saw. “How far along into the spell are you, little witch?”
Hazel sighed tiredly, turning and continuing to stock the shelves with new crystals and bundles of herbs.
Clearing my throat, I thought now might be the right time to make my presence known. I let the door click loudly shut behind me as I stepped forward, garnering the attention of both women. Dread had been forming in my stomach from the moment I rose from sleep and upon the mention of the Barons, I realized it was a feeling I was directly associating with anything that had to do with them.
“Problem?” I asked.
“$name,” Hazel breathed. “How are you feeling? Do you want me to get you some tea? Something to eat? I brewed a few more tonics for you this morning.”
I shook my head. “I’m okay, Hazel. What were you two talking about?”
“Baron Kavatti has asked to meet with you tonight,” Belladonna said, mincing none of her words.
[[Are you coming with me?]]
[[You sound as if you don’t want me to come]]
[[I feel like garbage but I’m assuming this is a scenario where that doesn’t matter]]
<<set $endmists to "false">>“Are you coming with me?” I asked. The last time Belladonna had been tasked to take me to a Baron, she had left me in the middle of a maze of books. Chrysanthemum had been nice enough but it did not sound like I should assume the same from the Baron of the Mists.
“Of course I am coming with you,” she snapped. “Leaving someone alone with Kavatti is a fate far worse than death. The hideous little shrew is a pain to even look at.”
I quirked a brow towards Belladonna but said no more to the subject. If I had been unsure of what her feelings had been before I supposed now I knew that they would never be classified as amicable.
Walking over to what I was now considering our little home within the lobby, I lowered myself on one of the couches. Hazel was soon there with a boiling pot of tea and mini sandwiches. Something light for my stomach, as she put it.
<<if $miloro == "true">> “Where did Milo go?” I asked her.
“He left early this morning. I saw him slip out when I was in the back area gathering herbs.” She poured me a steaming mug of tea, the likes of which were probably brewed from those herbs. “He didn’t leave your side once. I think now that you are out of the woods, he went home to get changed.”
I nodded.<</if>>
Belladonna came to stand near me, a wild look of impatience hidden behind her nearly flawless beauty. I half expected to hear the tap of her foot against the wood floor as she crossed her arms in front of her.
“How are you feeling?” she asked with a narrowed gaze. “Truthfully, please.”
“I’m not feeling great and would really love to be able to sleep for the next month.” She wanted honesty and I was more than happy to give it to her right now.
“But?” she asked.
“But you’re right. Time is not working in our favor. What Caliban did may have torn the market in a way that is irreparable. If the gates opening was a concern, I don’t know how a large gash in the sky is going to be any better.”
<<if $freecaliban == "true">> I wasn’t sure where he had torn the realm or how bad it was. The last I had heard the Velvet Guard was looking for it. But, if we were to believe Odin, the action was going to have dire consequences to the market's survival<</if>> We didn’t know how much time we even had. All any of us knew, the world could end tomorrow and the Night Market could blink out. Or, we could have years left and we were just a really proactive bunch. It was the not knowing that was the worst, really. “Just let me get a few tonics in me and maybe something caffeine related. Then I’m all yours, Belladonna.”
She smiled at me. “So generous of you,” she teased. <<if $belladonnasex == "true">> “Perhaps we can discuss that after our meeting.” I felt a shiver roll through me. I remembered very well what her ‘discussions’ could be like.<</if>>
Sitting next to me, Hazel shook her head. “I don’t like it. You were awful these last few days, $name. And Kavatti is not a Baron you want to be off your game with.” <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">> Her words were genuine and gave me a small bit of hope that she would not stay angry at me forever.<</if>>
Kavatti had killed Malcolm. I could still see the spot that it happened. It was the one Baron I knew Hazel was the most nervous about me meeting. Especially given how their last encounter with them had gone. But, we had known it would happen eventually and Belladonna did make a good point. I couldn’t call off on saving the world because I didn’t feel good.
Sipping my tea, I regarded Belladonna evenly. “Any idea what she is going to ask us to do?” All the Barons had something they wanted.
“I am hoping she will be agreeable and just hand over the favor. Kavatti is ambitious on a bad day and cutthroat on a very good day, but there is a certain code that we have as vampires. We are supposed to be helping each other.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?” I asked.
“I’ve seen her off and on over the years. She once tried to hire me. It was one of the few contracts I refused to take. I don’t know if she’s ever forgiven me for that.”
“So we are just supposed to walk in and make nice with her and expect her to give us what we want?”
She smiled thinly, apparently not very amused with my flippant attitude this morning. It denoted her stress levels more than anything. “In a perfect world, $name, that’s how each of these meetings should have gone. The status of the Night Market is all our concern. The fact that they cannot see it proves how far removed from reality they all may be. But yes, I believe this is how it will go with Kavatti. Getting her favor was never going to be the hard part. Getting her to agree to a meeting in general was always going to be far more difficult.”
“How did you do it?” I asked.
“I told her I wanted to mend fences. Let bygones be bygones.”
Hazel’s teacup paused halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“I never told you, Hazel dear, because I know Kavatti is a sensitive subject for you but she and I were quite well off at one point. In fact, she is the woman who turned me. I asked for it of course and trusted her implicitly. I doubt I would have done it if she hadn’t been someone I held in such high esteem.”
“Obviously you didn’t continue to hold that opinion of her,” I pointed out.
“No,” she said slowly. “I was young once and far too trusting of people who were nice to me. I didn’t yet know who I was or what I wanted in life. Kavatti saw that and preyed upon it. I’ve never quite forgiven her for that.”
[[Are you actually looking to make peace with her?]]
[[That’s an awful long time to hold a grudge, Belladonna]]
[[Would you take it back? Not be turned?]]There was something off about Belladonna’s voice. More off than the way she had been speaking to Hazel or perhaps it was all blended together in a tone of stress that I was just not used to hearing within her voice. It felt odd that I was more comfortable in the slight amount of empathetic fear she had shown in relation to Elias, as opposed to the clear lines of tension that ran along her body now.
“You sound like you don’t want me to come to this meeting with you,” I started slowly.
“I don’t,” she said firmly. “If I could, I would keep you from Kavatti all together. There is no reason for you to be there other than to collect the favor. Due to some inane rule it can only be the namekeeper that collects them. So no, $name, I don’t want you there. Not for a reconciliation I have with Kavatti. But it looks as if you are going to have to be.”
Her words had startled me. She looked less and less like she was willing to move on the matter and I half expected her to drag me from the shop entirely.
Walking over to what I was now considering our little home within the lobby, I lowered myself on one of the couches. Hazel was soon there with a boiling pot of tea and mini sandwiches. Something light for my stomach, as she put it.
<<if $miloro == "true">> “Where did Milo go?” I asked her.
“He left early this morning. I saw him slip out when I was in the back area gathering herbs.” She poured me a steaming mug of tea, the likes of which were probably brewed from those herbs. “He didn’t leave your side once. I think now that you are out of the woods, he went home to get changed.”
I nodded.<</if>>
Belladonna came to stand near me, a wild look of impatience hidden behind her nearly flawless beauty. I half expected to hear the tap of her foot against the wood floor as she crossed her arms in front of her.
“How are you feeling?” she asked with a narrowed gaze. “Truthfully, please.”
“I’m not feeling great and would really love to be able to sleep for the next month.” She wanted honesty and I was more than happy to give it to her right now.
“But?” she asked.
“But you’re right. Time is not working in our favor. What Caliban did may have torn the market in a way that is irreparable. If the gates opening was a concern, I don’t know how a large gash in the sky is going to be any better.”
<<if $freecaliban == "true">> I wasn’t sure where he had torn the realm or how bad it was. The last I had heard the Velvet Guard was looking for it. But, if we were to believe Odin, the action was going to have dire consequences to the market's survival<</if>> We didn’t know how much time we even had. All any of us knew, the world could end tomorrow and the Night Market could blink out. Or, we could have years left and we were just a really proactive bunch. It was the not knowing that was the worst, really. “Just let me get a few tonics in me and maybe something caffeine related. Then I’m all yours, Belladonna.”
She smiled at me. “So generous of you,” she teased. <<if $belladonnasex == "true">> “Perhaps we can discuss that after our meeting.” I felt a shiver roll through me. I remembered very well what her ‘discussions’ could be like.<</if>>
Sitting next to me, Hazel shook her head. “I don’t like it. You were awful these last few days, $name. And Kavatti is not a Baron you want to be off your game with.” <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">> Her words were genuine and gave me a small bit of hope that she would not stay angry at me forever.<</if>>
Kavatti had killed Malcolm. I could still see the spot that it happened. It was the one Baron I knew Hazel was the most nervous about me meeting. Especially given how their last encounter with them had gone. But, we had known it would happen eventually and Belladonna did make a good point. I couldn’t call off on saving the world because I didn’t feel good.
Sipping my tea, I regarded Belladonna evenly. “Any idea what she is going to ask us to do?” All the Barons had something they wanted.
“I am hoping she will be agreeable and just hand over the favor. Kavatti is ambitious on a bad day and cutthroat on a very good day, but there is a certain code that we have as vampires. We are supposed to be helping each other.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?” I asked.
“I’ve seen her off and on over the years. She once tried to hire me. It was one of the few contracts I refused to take. I don’t know if she’s ever forgiven me for that.”
“So we are just supposed to walk in and make nice with her and expect her to give us what we want?”
She smiled thinly, apparently not very amused with my flippant attitude this morning. It denoted her stress levels more than anything. “In a perfect world, $name, that’s how each of these meetings should have gone. The status of the Night Market is all our concern. The fact that they cannot see it proves how far removed from reality they all may be. But yes, I believe this is how it will go with Kavatti. Getting her favor was never going to be the hard part. Getting her to agree to a meeting in general was always going to be far more difficult.”
“How did you do it?” I asked.
“I told her I wanted to mend fences. Let bygones be bygones.”
Hazel’s teacup paused halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“I never told you, Hazel dear, because I know Kavatti is a sensitive subject for you but she and I were quite well off at one point. In fact, she is the woman who turned me. I asked for it of course and trusted her implicitly. I doubt I would have done it if she hadn’t been someone I held in such high esteem.”
“Obviously you didn’t continue to hold that opinion of her,” I pointed out.
“No,” she said slowly. “I was young once and far too trusting of people who were nice to me. I didn’t yet know who I was or what I wanted in life. Kavatti saw that and preyed upon it. I’ve never quite forgiven her for that.”
[[Are you actually looking to make peace with her?]]
[[That’s an awful long time to hold a grudge, Belladonna]]
[[Would you take it back? Not be turned?]]“I feel like garbage,” I stated, “and also like I’m going to fall asleep on my feet. But, I’m assuming by your harassment of Hazel, that’s not going to matter much.”
Belladonna almost looked apologetic at that. “No. I’m afraid not, dear heart. Even getting a meeting with Kavatti was rather difficult to obtain given my past with her. I fear if we cancel now, there will not be another opportunity.
Walking over to what I was now considering our little home within the lobby, I lowered myself on one of the couches. Hazel was soon there with a boiling pot of tea and mini sandwiches. Something light for my stomach, as she put it.
<<if $miloro == "true">> “Where did Milo go?” I asked her.
“He left early this morning. I saw him slip out when I was in the back area gathering herbs.” She poured me a steaming mug of tea, the likes of which were probably brewed from those herbs. “He didn’t leave your side once. I think now that you are out of the woods, he went home to get changed.”
I nodded.<</if>>
Belladonna came to stand near me, a wild look of impatience hidden behind her nearly flawless beauty. I half expected to hear the tap of her foot against the wood floor as she crossed her arms in front of her.
“How are you feeling?” she asked with a narrowed gaze. “Truthfully, please.”
“I’m not feeling great and would really love to be able to sleep for the next month.” She wanted honesty and I was more than happy to give it to her right now.
“But?” she asked.
“But you’re right. Time is not working in our favor. What Caliban did may have torn the market in a way that is irreparable. If the gates opening was a concern, I don’t know how a large gash in the sky is going to be any better.”
<<if $freecaliban == "true">> I wasn’t sure where he had torn the realm or how bad it was. The last I had heard the Velvet Guard was looking for it. But, if we were to believe Odin, the action was going to have dire consequences to the market's survival<</if>> We didn’t know how much time we even had. All any of us knew, the world could end tomorrow and the Night Market could blink out. Or, we could have years left and we were just a really proactive bunch. It was the not knowing that was the worst, really. “Just let me get a few tonics in me and maybe something caffeine related. Then I’m all yours, Belladonna.”
She smiled at me. “So generous of you,” she teased. <<if $belladonnasex == "true">> “Perhaps we can discuss that after our meeting.” I felt a shiver roll through me. I remembered very well what her ‘discussions’ could be like.<</if>>
Sitting next to me, Hazel shook her head. “I don’t like it. You were awful these last few days, $name. And Kavatti is not a Baron you want to be off your game with.” <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">> Her words were genuine and gave me a small bit of hope that she would not stay angry at me forever.<</if>>
Kavatti had killed Malcolm. I could still see the spot that it happened. It was the one Baron I knew Hazel was the most nervous about me meeting. Especially given how their last encounter with them had gone. But, we had known it would happen eventually and Belladonna did make a good point. I couldn’t call off on saving the world because I didn’t feel good.
Sipping my tea, I regarded Belladonna evenly. “Any idea what she is going to ask us to do?” All the Barons had something they wanted.
“I am hoping she will be agreeable and just hand over the favor. Kavatti is ambitious on a bad day and cutthroat on a very good day, but there is a certain code that we have as vampires. We are supposed to be helping each other.”
“When’s the last time you saw her?” I asked.
“I’ve seen her off and on over the years. She once tried to hire me. It was one of the few contracts I refused to take. I don’t know if she’s ever forgiven me for that.”
“So we are just supposed to walk in and make nice with her and expect her to give us what we want?”
She smiled thinly, apparently not very amused with my flippant attitude this morning. It denoted her stress levels more than anything. “In a perfect world, $name, that’s how each of these meetings should have gone. The status of the Night Market is all our concern. The fact that they cannot see it proves how far removed from reality they all may be. But yes, I believe this is how it will go with Kavatti. Getting her favor was never going to be the hard part. Getting her to agree to a meeting in general was always going to be far more difficult.”
“How did you do it?” I asked.
“I told her I wanted to mend fences. Let bygones be bygones.”
Hazel’s teacup paused halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
“I never told you, Hazel dear, because I know Kavatti is a sensitive subject for you but she and I were quite well off at one point. In fact, she is the woman who turned me. I asked for it of course and trusted her implicitly. I doubt I would have done it if she hadn’t been someone I held in such high esteem.”
“Obviously you didn’t continue to hold that opinion of her,” I pointed out.
“No,” she said slowly. “I was young once and far too trusting of people who were nice to me. I didn’t yet know who I was or what I wanted in life. Kavatti saw that and preyed upon it. I’ve never quite forgiven her for that.”
[[Are you actually looking to make peace with her?]]
[[That’s an awful long time to hold a grudge, Belladonna]]
[[Would you take it back? Not be turned?]]“Are you planning to actually make peace with her?” I asked. Belladonna did not seem like a woman who smoothed things over unless it benefited her. Though, I guessed that gaining a Baron's favor was enough to smooth the edges of an old rival. Or at the very least, pretend to.
“I often times say what I intend to do,” she told me evenly. “You should know this about me by now.”
I knew that she chose her words carefully. That Belladonna did not lie but she spoke around the truth. I doubted that there would be any sincerity to burying the hatchet with this Baron. But, out of all of us, I felt like Belladonna was far more likely to consider the bigger picture than the rest of us.
Smoothing down the non-existent lines of her skirt, she gave a curt nod to both Hazel and I. “I find myself in need of some fresh air. $name, just join me when you are ready. I’ll fill you in on finer details perhaps on the way there.”
When she left the shop I was left slightly confused. I had agreed to go with her but I thought our meeting was later. Or at least I had made it clear that there were some things I needed to do first. Did she really intend to stand outside this entire time?
“$name,” Hazel said softly. “I need to tell you something.”
Turning my attention to her, I frowned. She looked pale and full of dread.
[[Of course. You can tell me anything]]
[[You don’t look good, Hazel. You should be the one drinking this tea]]
[[I overheard your conversation with Belladonna. What spell was she talking about?]]“It feels like that is an awful long time to hold a grudge, Belladonna,” I told her.
“And I feel like you should hold your tongue given that you know absolutely nothing about the situation,” she said thinly. I stared at her, my tea halfway to my lips. The air around was far more frigid than it had been before.
Smoothing down the non-existent lines of her skirt, she gave a curt nod to both Hazel and I. “I find myself in need of some fresh air. $name, just join me when you are ready. I’ll fill you in on finer details perhaps on the way there.”
When she left the shop I was left slightly confused. I had agreed to go with her but I thought our meeting was later. Or at least I had made it clear that there were some things I needed to do first. Did she really intend to stand outside this entire time?
“$name,” Hazel said softly. “I need to tell you something.”
Turning my attention to her, I frowned. She looked pale and full of dread.
[[Of course. You can tell me anything]]
[[You don’t look good, Hazel. You should be the one drinking this tea]]
[[I overheard your conversation with Belladonna. What spell was she talking about?]]“If you knew what you did now, would you still have had her turn you?” I asked curiously.
I couldn’t imagine Belladonna any differently. With warm blood pumping through her veins or being human at some point in her life. She wore her vampire visage beautifully. It seemed odd to think of her as anything else.
“No,” she said after a moment. “I think I still would have had her turn me,” she said. “I just would have been far wiser to the lies she told in the preceding days. However, lies are often their sweetest when coming from the ones who have earned your trust implicitly.”
Smoothing down the non-existent lines of her skirt, she gave a curt nod to both Hazel and I. “I find myself in need of some fresh air. $name, just join me when you are ready. I’ll fill you in on finer details perhaps on the way there.”
When she left the shop I was left slightly confused. I had agreed to go with her but I thought our meeting was later. Or at least I had made it clear that there were some things I needed to do first. Did she really intend to stand outside this entire time?
“$name,” Hazel said softly. “I need to tell you something.”
Turning my attention to her, I frowned. She looked pale and full of dread.
[[Of course. You can tell me anything]]
[[You don’t look good, Hazel. You should be the one drinking this tea]]
[[I overheard your conversation with Belladonna. What spell was she talking about?]]“Of course. You can tell me anything.” I had hoped at this point, Hazel knew that I trusted her. That I was her friend. <<if $hazelro == "true">> That we could be so much more in the upcoming days. When this all settled and we got a chance to just exist with each other.<</if>>
The mere thought of speaking was setting her ill at ease. If anything, my kind words were ones that made her shoulders slump and her nerves thicken through the air.
“Hazel?” I asked hesitantly.
She looked at me, tipping her chin upwards. For once, she was not nervously wringing her hands in her lap or looking at me through shifting eyes.
“I think I found a spell,” she said simply.
“For Malcolm?”
“Yes.”
[[Hazel, that is wonderful]]
[[You found one. Or are you already doing one]]
[[Is it dangerous?]]“You don’t look good, Hazel. Did you want to share some of my tea?” Her own teacup was nearby. It had been filled with something but was already empty. I couldn’t help but notice how it had been different from my own.
When she shook her head, I felt my sense of dread rise. <<if $hazelro == "true">> I looked at this woman who I had come to know through the last few months. I had never dreamed of having something more with her. But her soft hands had taken mine and I never once looked back. But now, as I stared at her wane features, I felt my nerves shake through me.<</if>>
“Hazel?” I asked hesitantly.
She looked at me, tipping her chin upwards. For once, she was not nervously wringing her hands in her lap or looking at me through shifting eyes.
“I think I found a spell,” she said simply.
“For Malcolm?”
“Yes.”
[[Hazel, that is wonderful]]
[[You found one. Or are you already doing one]]
[[Is it dangerous?]]It was in her tone. //How far along in the spell are you, little witch?// Belladonna could see something that I could not and given the information we now knew about Malcolm, there was little doubt in my mind that Hazel had been doing something while I slept.
“What did Belladonna mean?” I asked. “I heard your conversation. What spell was she talking about?”
The shop felt empty somehow. The apothecary had always been filled with warmth. Crackling stews, bubbling cauldrons, fractal light falling across the floor from the stained-glass window. There was a warmth that radiated even from the darkest corners. Now, I couldn’t help but notice how lifeless everything was.
“Hazel?” I asked hesitantly.
She looked at me, tipping her chin upwards. For once, she was not nervously wringing her hands in her lap or looking at me through shifting eyes.
“I think I found a spell,” she said simply.
“For Malcolm?”
“Yes.”
[[Hazel, that is wonderful]]
[[You found one. Or are you already doing one]]
[[Is it dangerous?]]“Hazel, that is wonderful,” I told her immediately. For her to be telling me about the spell at all had to mean she was on to something. Something far different than she had tried before. If she could somehow manage to get Malcolm back, we would have the answers to so many questions. She would have her brother back. We would perhaps be able to navigate our situation with the Gatekeeper far better than we had to this point.
She smiled at me, a tad bit hesitant in doing so. “I hope it is,” she said. “The spell is going to require me to give a bit of my blood. I want you to know that so you’re not alarmed. But the blood should be enough to call him home. Bring him back to the spot that he died in. I think I finally have the ingredients right this time around.”
“What do you mean it can call him home? What are you attempting?”
“It’s complicated,” she said. “I want to be able to tell you, but the entirety of the spell is a big jumble of over the top rituals. But, the end result, should pull him to the spot he died.”
I glanced over at the area of the floor. Not too far away from it was the charred portion of the floor where the gate had opened. The one they had shoved him through in hopes of keeping him from becoming a restless spirit wandering the market or haunting the shop.
“When are you planning on doing this?” I asked. There was no stopping her. I didn’t exactly want to either. But I didn’t want her to be alone.
“Tonight.”
I startled. “Tonight? Can’t it wait?”
“No. It’s one of those really stupid magic rules but no, it can’t. It has to be tonight.”
I looked around the room helplessly, as if searching for a way to set her back. Or perhaps make it so Belladonna could somehow move the appointment with the Baron. But there was nothing. I could find nothing. “Hazel, you shouldn’t be doing this alone.”
“I’ll be okay, $name.” Though she looked uncertain.
[[Wait for me to do this]]
[[Have Gabriel come and be with you]]
[[Have Milo be here]]
Arguably, this was a good thing. If she felt she had finally found the key to bringing Malcolm home, the one person that may be able to shed light on the allusiveness of the Gatekeeper, then we should be stopping at nothing to help her with her endeavors. But, with the way Belladonna had been acting, I wondered at what cost it was coming to us at.
“You found one?” I asked hesitantly. “Or you are already doing one.” When her eyes ticked away, I had my answer. <<if $hazelro == "true">> “I thought you were going to tell me before you did anything.”
Guilt tracked across her eyes. “You were sick,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t.”<</if>>
“Oh, Hazel,” I breathed. “Please tell me that you are okay. That what you have been doing isn’t something that is going to hurt you.”
She shook her head, the line between her brows furrowing. “I don’t think so. I’ve been slowly gathering the items I need for the last few days. I– no living soul will be hurt out of malice.”
“Out of malice?”
“I– I’m going to have to give some of my blood. But it isn’t enough to truly hurt me. I can handle it. But it will help track him. It can call him home.”
“What do you mean it can call him home? What are you attempting?”
“It’s complicated,” she said. “I want to be able to tell you, but the entirety of the spell is a big jumble of over the top rituals. But, the end result, should pull him to the spot he died.”
I glanced over at the area of the floor. Not too far away from it was the charred portion of the floor where the gate had opened. The one they had shoved him through in hopes of keeping him from becoming a restless spirit wandering the market or haunting the shop.
“When are you planning on doing this?” I asked. There was no stopping her. I didn’t exactly want to either. But I didn’t want her to be alone.
“Tonight.”
I startled. “Tonight? Can’t it wait?”
“No. It’s one of those really stupid magic rules but no, it can’t. It has to be tonight.”
I looked around the room helplessly, as if searching for a way to set her back. Or perhaps make it so Belladonna could somehow move the appointment with the Baron. But there was nothing. I could find nothing. “Hazel, you shouldn’t be doing this alone.”
“I’ll be okay, $name.” Though she looked uncertain.
[[Wait for me to do this]]
[[Have Gabriel come and be with you]]
[[Have Milo be here]]
Arguably, this was a good thing. If she felt she had finally found the key to bringing Malcolm home, the one person that may be able to shed light on the allusiveness of the Gatekeeper, then we should be stopping at nothing to help her with her endeavors. But, with the way Belladonna had been acting, I wondered at what cost it was coming to us at.
“Is it dangerous?” I asked her.
She shook her head, the line between her brows furrowing. “I don’t think so. I’ve been slowly gathering the items I need for the last few days. I– no living soul will be hurt out of malice.”
“Out of malice?”
“I– I’m going to have to give some of my blood. But it isn’t enough to truly hurt me. I can handle it. But it will help track him. It can call him home.”
“What do you mean it can call him home? What are you attempting?”
“It’s complicated,” she said. “I want to be able to tell you, but the entirety of the spell is a big jumble of over the top rituals. But, the end result, should pull him to the spot he died.”
I glanced over at the area of the floor. Not too far away from it was the charred portion of the floor where the gate had opened. The one they had shoved him through in hopes of keeping him from becoming a restless spirit wandering the market or haunting the shop.
“When are you planning on doing this?” I asked. There was no stopping her. I didn’t exactly want to either. But I didn’t want her to be alone.
“Tonight.”
I startled. “Tonight? Can’t it wait?”
“No. It’s one of those really stupid magic rules but no, it can’t. It has to be tonight.”
I looked around the room helplessly, as if searching for a way to set her back. Or perhaps make it so Belladonna could somehow move the appointment with the Baron. But there was nothing. I could find nothing. “Hazel, you shouldn’t be doing this alone.”
“I’ll be okay, $name.” Though she looked uncertain.
[[Wait for me to do this]]
[[Have Gabriel come and be with you]]
[[Have Milo be here]]“Just wait for me,” I implored. “Don’t do this alone. I promise you, after I am done with my meeting, I will sit by your side the entire night if I have to. Just let me watch over you while you perform your spell.”
“I would love that, $name. But the Baron comes first.”
The Barons always did. And I hated it.
“Hazel, I don’t feel comfortable going to the Baron of the Mists knowing that you could be getting into trouble here.”
“I mean, hopefully,” she said, “you’ll be back before then. I can’t even do my spell until the turn of night.”
I didn’t like it. Every time I got even a modicum of rest, it felt as if several other problems began to spiral out of control and I could only be in one place at a time. But, if Hazel was telling the truth, then hopefully we would be back. I could perhaps convince Belladonna to stay. Ultimately, we all should be present for Hazel. The days of us going through these things alone needed to end.
Reaching out, I placed my hand on hers. “Okay,” I said. “Tonight then. I’ll be here. But still contact Milo. Please.”
She nodded. “I will. I just can’t guarantee that he’ll show up.”
“If you ask him, I know he will.” Milo would end the world for Hazel. I had never been more certain of that. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Leaning forward, I pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. While she kissed me back, I could tell she was distracted. Worried about me leaving and worried about what the night will bring.
“Don’t go,” she whispered.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I reached up, running my fingers along the curve of her cheek. “I have to.” We both knew that the option not to was no more than an illusion. “I will be okay. Belladonna does not strike me as someone who would throw me to the wolves,” I tried to joke.
“No,” she muttered stubbornly. “Just to a very specific vampire.”
“Hazel…”
“I know,” she said, closing her eyes tightly. “I just hate the woman. That’s all. I hate her more than anyone in this world.”
I pulled her near. There was nothing I could say to that. So I just pressed my lips to hers once more, pouring every ounce of strength I had into what I felt for her. She sighed shakily against my lips but didn’t pull away until she was ready. <</if>>
Finishing my tea, I rose from my seat, gathering my coat and stepping outside. There was a silence to the air, the animals having all moved on now. With the wisps sleeping, the quiet felt even more pronounced. I pulled my coat tighter around me, trying not to read too much into it.
I found Belladonna at the edge of the burnt alley, staring down the long stretch of road. “What’s wrong?” I asked. She had a perplexed look about her.
“The spirits have moved on,” she said. The alleyway looked the same, but there was something calmer about it. I had noticed it the other day but thought it had been the cold.
“Do spirits do that?”
Belladonna looked at me then, letting the significance of the situation drop upon me. “No.” Turning on her heel, she began to walk down the alley. I shuffled after her. It was yet another thing to add to the list. Though, I couldn’t say I would miss the spirits if they had truly moved on.
[[Are you doing okay with seeing Kavatti again?]]
[[I want to tell you that you don’t have to come but I’m really glad that you are]]
[[Does Kavatti have any control over you since she made you?]]
<<if $belladonnasex == "true">>[[We should probably talk about what happened between us the other night]]<</if>>“Will you call Gabriel and have him be here with you?” I asked. “I know the Velvet Guard frowns on magic but I would feel a lot better knowing he was here.”
“I’m a little surprised he isn’t going with you and Belladonna,” Hazel said. “I thought given that this was Kavatti– I mean, he must know Belladonna’s history with the woman. I almost thought he would act the same way she acted when faced with the Dollmaker.”
“That is if he even knows,” I pointed out. Belladonna didn’t strike me as someone who was forthcoming with the law enforcement around here. “But that is also not what we are talking about. Please have him here tonight.”
“Hazel, I don’t feel comfortable going to the Baron of the Mists knowing that you could be getting into trouble here.”
“I mean, hopefully,” she said, “you’ll be back before then. I can’t even do my spell until the turn of night.”
I didn’t like it. Every time I got even a modicum of rest, it felt as if several other problems began to spiral out of control and I could only be in one place at a time. But, if Hazel was telling the truth, then hopefully we would be back. I could perhaps convince Belladonna to stay. Ultimately, we all should be present for Hazel. The days of us going through these things alone needed to end.
Reaching out, I placed my hand on hers. “Okay,” I said. “Tonight then. I’ll be here. But still contact Milo. Please.”
She nodded. “I will. I just can’t guarantee that he’ll show up.”
“If you ask him, I know he will.” Milo would end the world for Hazel. I had never been more certain of that. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Leaning forward, I pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. While she kissed me back, I could tell she was distracted. Worried about me leaving and worried about what the night will bring.
“Don’t go,” she whispered.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I reached up, running my fingers along the curve of her cheek. “I have to.” We both knew that the option not to was no more than an illusion. “I will be okay. Belladonna does not strike me as someone who would throw me to the wolves,” I tried to joke.
“No,” she muttered stubbornly. “Just to a very specific vampire.”
“Hazel…”
“I know,” she said, closing her eyes tightly. “I just hate the woman. That’s all. I hate her more than anyone in this world.”
I pulled her near. There was nothing I could say to that. So I just pressed my lips to hers once more, pouring every ounce of strength I had into what I felt for her. She sighed shakily against my lips but didn’t pull away until she was ready. <</if>>
Finishing my tea, I rose from my seat, gathering my coat and stepping outside. There was a silence to the air, the animals having all moved on now. With the wisps sleeping, the quiet felt even more pronounced. I pulled my coat tighter around me, trying not to read too much into it.
I found Belladonna at the edge of the burnt alley, staring down the long stretch of road. “What’s wrong?” I asked. She had a perplexed look about her.
“The spirits have moved on,” she said. The alleyway looked the same, but there was something calmer about it. I had noticed it the other day but thought it had been the cold.
“Do spirits do that?”
Belladonna looked at me then, letting the significance of the situation drop upon me. “No.” Turning on her heel, she began to walk down the alley. I shuffled after her. It was yet another thing to add to the list. Though, I couldn’t say I would miss the spirits if they had truly moved on.
[[Are you doing okay with seeing Kavatti again?]]
[[I want to tell you that you don’t have to come but I’m really glad that you are]]
[[Does Kavatti have any control over you since she made you?]]
<<if $belladonnasex == "true">>[[We should probably talk about what happened between us the other night]]<</if>>“Look, at the very least have Milo here. I know the situation is going to be difficult for the two of you, but Milo is going to be the one who understands more than any of us. Don’t do this alone, okay?”
She looked hesitant and I really couldn’t blame her. Milo hadn’t exactly been supportive when it came to her efforts with Malcolm. But, I couldn’t imagine him wishing to leave her alone during this. He would want to be with her.
“I’ll- I’ll think about it.”
“Hazel, I don’t feel comfortable going to the Baron of the Mists knowing that you could be getting into trouble here.”
“I mean, hopefully,” she said, “you’ll be back before then. I can’t even do my spell until the turn of night.”
I didn’t like it. Every time I got even a modicum of rest, it felt as if several other problems began to spiral out of control and I could only be in one place at a time. But, if Hazel was telling the truth, then hopefully we would be back. I could perhaps convince Belladonna to stay. Ultimately, we all should be present for Hazel. The days of us going through these things alone needed to end.
Reaching out, I placed my hand on hers. “Okay,” I said. “Tonight then. I’ll be here. But still contact Milo. Please.”
She nodded. “I will. I just can’t guarantee that he’ll show up.”
“If you ask him, I know he will.” Milo would end the world for Hazel. I had never been more certain of that. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Leaning forward, I pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. While she kissed me back, I could tell she was distracted. Worried about me leaving and worried about what the night will bring.
“Don’t go,” she whispered.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I reached up, running my fingers along the curve of her cheek. “I have to.” We both knew that the option not to was no more than an illusion. “I will be okay. Belladonna does not strike me as someone who would throw me to the wolves,” I tried to joke.
“No,” she muttered stubbornly. “Just to a very specific vampire.”
“Hazel…”
“I know,” she said, closing her eyes tightly. “I just hate the woman. That’s all. I hate her more than anyone in this world.”
I pulled her near. There was nothing I could say to that. So I just pressed my lips to hers once more, pouring every ounce of strength I had into what I felt for her. She sighed shakily against my lips but didn’t pull away until she was ready. <</if>>
Finishing my tea, I rose from my seat, gathering my coat and stepping outside. There was a silence to the air, the animals having all moved on now. With the wisps sleeping, the quiet felt even more pronounced. I pulled my coat tighter around me, trying not to read too much into it.
I found Belladonna at the edge of the burnt alley, staring down the long stretch of road. “What’s wrong?” I asked. She had a perplexed look about her.
“The spirits have moved on,” she said. The alleyway looked the same, but there was something calmer about it. I had noticed it the other day but thought it had been the cold.
“Do spirits do that?”
Belladonna looked at me then, letting the significance of the situation drop upon me. “No.” Turning on her heel, she began to walk down the alley. I shuffled after her. It was yet another thing to add to the list. Though, I couldn’t say I would miss the spirits if they had truly moved on.
[[Are you doing okay with seeing Kavatti again?]]
[[I want to tell you that you don’t have to come but I’m really glad that you are]]
[[Does Kavatti have any control over you since she made you?]]
<<if $belladonnasex == "true">>[[We should probably talk about what happened between us the other night]]<</if>>When we were halfway down the alley and away from Hazel’s, I made sure to fall in step beside Belladonna, casting her a worried look from the corner of my eye. “Are you doing okay with all this? Seeing her again?” I wasn’t sure what all had happened between the two of them, but Belladonna had always kept her disdain neutral. She was a well learned woman who played the game before her to perfection. Yet, this woman rattled her.
“Of course I’m doing alright,” she said. “Kavatti is hardly anyone to fret over.”
“That’s not how you made it seem back at Hazel’s.”
“Perhaps you weren’t listening properly. Maybe you should be more concerned with paying attention than with having a lie in.”
“A lie in? Belladonna, I was sick. You know I was si–”
“Yes. I know,” she snapped. Then, she stopped. Right in the middle of the alley, Belladonna stopped, hands clenched at her side. Her eyes closed, lashes sweeping across the pale apples of her cheeks. It was clear she hadn’t fed in some time and I couldn’t help but feel there was a reason.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I nearly stumbled back in shock.
“Apparently, seeing her again is bothering me. I do not mean to take it out on you.”
[[It’s okay. It sounds like things went bad between you two]]
[[You need to get a hold of yourself]]
[[The great Belladonna Malady, nervous? I never thought I would see it]]“I would love nothing more than to tell you that you don’t have to come with me right now,” I said as we walked down the alley. “But I am really glad I am not going alone.”
“There is no scenario where I would ever let you go alone, dear heart. Stop insinuating that you feel bad or do not think I can handle this.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I told her. I knew that Belladonna could handle this. I had never met a woman more capable than her.
“Then quit with your platitudes because they are certainly not necessary nor are they wanted.”
“Belladonna,” I began carefully, “I only meant –
“I know what you meant,” she snapped. Then, she stopped. Right in the middle of the alley, Belladonna stopped, hands clenched at her side. Her eyes closed, lashes sweeping across the pale apples of her cheeks. It was clear she hadn’t fed in some time and I couldn’t help but feel there was a reason.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I nearly stumbled back in shock.
“Apparently, seeing her again is bothering me. I do not mean to take it out on you.”
[[It’s okay. It sounds like things went bad between you two]]
[[You need to get a hold of yourself]]
[[The great Belladonna Malady, nervous? I never thought I would see it]]“Before we go in there, I have to ask. Does this Kavatti have any sort of control over you? You know… because she made you?” It struck me now that I had never asked how any of that worked. In fact, I knew very little of what being a vampire even entailed except that Belladonna occasionally drank blood. But even then, I don’t think I had seen her actively do it. Not that I had noticed at least.
“She didn’t make me. //I// made me. Remember that, dear.”
“I just meant–”
“I know what you meant,” she snapped. Then, she stopped. Right in the middle of the alley, Belladonna stopped, hands clenched at her side. Her eyes closed, lashes sweeping across the pale apples of her cheeks. It was clear she hadn’t fed in some time and I couldn’t help but feel there was a reason.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I nearly stumbled back in shock.
“Apparently, seeing her again is bothering me. I do not mean to take it out on you.”
[[It’s okay. It sounds like things went bad between you two]]
[[You need to get a hold of yourself]]
[[The great Belladonna Malady, nervous? I never thought I would see it]]I knew I should feel more fear over her admission. Previously, I had thought nothing would shake her. But now that I was here in this moment with her, I only wished for her to know that it was okay. This secret that she was showing me, ended here. “It’s okay,” I assured her. “From what little I know, things went bad between you. No one can blame you for how you feel. Certainly not me.”
She stared at me, unblinking, her face placid and frozen in vampiric perfection. It struck me then how little she was often told things would be okay. I wondered how often she had to be that for someone else while she silently fell apart.
“You are a rare individual, $name,” she said softly. <<if $belladonnasex == "true">> I shivered at the sound of my nap on her lips, vividly remember how those very lips felt against my skin a few nights before. She smiled as I shifted at the thought, her eyes ticking downwards for one brief moment.<</if>>
“I don’t know if I’m that rare,” I said.
“Oh, you are. You very much are. I have a feeling we may be learning how much in the upcoming days. But for now, we have a Baron to manipulate.” Turning, she began walking down the alley again, not waiting for me. I watched as she tossed her hair over her shoulder though, glancing back. I quickly followed her, catching up to her at the three-tiered fountain right before she turned down an alley I was not familiar with.
The alley itself echoed with the sound of sharp little snaps as bricks one by one, built the wall higher and higher before dissembling and fanning outwards. It was rebuilding. I wasn’t sure if it was to prepare for something to come or if it was due to something having already caused the destruction. I had heard the clicking of the market before but had yet to see the walls rebuilding themselves. Each brick stacked upon each other, clicking in place before stacking higher and higher until I could no longer see where they ended. I stuck close to Belladonna, feeling like our path was endless, and as I looked down, I saw a deep fog beginning to roll in.
Other than us, the way to the Baron of the Mists was vacant. There were no passing bodies. No one lurking like I often saw while walking anywhere in the market. The pathway there was vacant.
“Is this normal?” I asked Belladonna.
She shook her head. “I have a feeling Kavatti is rolling out the welcome rug.” The mist around our ankles kicked up with each step, curling at the edge of the wall before disappearing in a hiss.
“$name, I have not had the pleasure of sitting with you during one of these Baron meetings so I do not know how you handle them. May I make a request please?” She glanced at me, her voice low, so as to blend in with the cool mists. “Let me handle Kavatti. She likes to play games and she will trap you in a lie. I do not wish to see you get hurt. I cannot drive home enough the very knowledge that if I felt I could do this without you, I would be doing so. Unfortunately, I do need you there to receive the favor.”
[[I’ll happily let you take the lead]]
[[I’ll step in only when necessary]]
[[What about you? I don’t want to see you get hurt either]]
“If she is as bad as you all are making her out to be you might need to take a minute to get a hold of yourself. People like that are only going to use your emotions as an advantage.”
“Thank you,” she quipped sharply. “I was unaware how meetings with high-powered individuals work. I am pleased that you are coming with me, $name, to impart on me all the experience you have gathered in your very short time within the market.”
I raised my brow at her and her biting tone. It was the one I was used to hearing when it came to her and Gabriel. Then again, I had rarely talked back to her or challenged her until recently. It turned out, Belladonna’s claws came out almost too easily when you knew how to get under her skin.
“That,” I told her. “That right there. I don’t want to die, Belladonna.”
“You are not going to die,” she said, her tone brooking no arguments. Her heels clicked down the alley with sharp snaps. I followed her with little commentary, trying to keep up as she breezed past the three tiered alley and towards a passageway I had not gone down before.
The alley itself echoed with the sound of sharp little snaps as bricks one by one, built the wall higher and higher before dissembling and fanning outwards. It was rebuilding. I wasn’t sure if it was to prepare for something to come or if it was due to something having already caused the destruction. I had heard the clicking of the market before but had yet to see the walls rebuilding themselves. Each brick stacked upon each other, clicking in place before stacking higher and higher until I could no longer see where they ended. I stuck close to Belladonna, feeling like our path was endless, and as I looked down, I saw a deep fog beginning to roll in.
Other than us, the way to the Baron of the Mists was vacant. There were no passing bodies. No one lurking like I often saw while walking anywhere in the market. The pathway there was vacant.
“Is this normal?” I asked Belladonna.
She shook her head. “I have a feeling Kavatti is rolling out the welcome rug.” The mist around our ankles kicked up with each step, curling at the edge of the wall before disappearing in a hiss.
“$name, I have not had the pleasure of sitting with you during one of these Baron meetings so I do not know how you handle them. May I make a request please?” She glanced at me, her voice low, so as to blend in with the cool mists. “Let me handle Kavatti. She likes to play games and she will trap you in a lie. I do not wish to see you get hurt. I cannot drive home enough the very knowledge that if I felt I could do this without you, I would be doing so. Unfortunately, I do need you there to receive the favor.”
[[I’ll happily let you take the lead]]
[[I’ll step in only when necessary]]
[[What about you? I don’t want to see you get hurt either]]
A wry smile etched across my lips. It was rare that I ever saw Belladonna flinch, let alone apologize. The moment made me oddly happy. Like the event itself meant I had officially made it with her. Friendship sealed.
“The great Belladonna Malady actually nervous. I never thought I would see the day.”
For a moment, her face was that placid, frozen perfection that I often saw in her. Her body still, devoid of breath. But as she looked at me, she smiled, huffing out a small bit of breath.
“And you still haven’t,” she responded, continuing to walk. “The day that someone like Kavatti makes me nervous is the day I die.”
“So you’ll only be nervous in the face of death?” I called after her.
“No. I embrace death. I’ll be nervous for how the rest of you will go on in the face of living without me.”
Her heels clicked down the alley with sharp snaps as she looked over her shoulder at me with a raised brow. I laughed, following her, trying to keep up as she breezed past the three tiered alley and towards a passageway I had not gone down before.
The alley itself echoed with the sound of sharp little snaps as bricks one by one, built the wall higher and higher before dissembling and fanning outwards. It was rebuilding. I wasn’t sure if it was to prepare for something to come or if it was due to something having already caused the destruction. I had heard the clicking of the market before but had yet to see the walls rebuilding themselves. Each brick stacked upon each other, clicking in place before stacking higher and higher until I could no longer see where they ended. I stuck close to Belladonna, feeling like our path was endless, and as I looked down, I saw a deep fog beginning to roll in.
Other than us, the way to the Baron of the Mists was vacant. There were no passing bodies. No one lurking like I often saw while walking anywhere in the market. The pathway there was vacant.
“Is this normal?” I asked Belladonna.
She shook her head. “I have a feeling Kavatti is rolling out the welcome rug.” The mist around our ankles kicked up with each step, curling at the edge of the wall before disappearing in a hiss.
“$name, I have not had the pleasure of sitting with you during one of these Baron meetings so I do not know how you handle them. May I make a request please?” She glanced at me, her voice low, so as to blend in with the cool mists. “Let me handle Kavatti. She likes to play games and she will trap you in a lie. I do not wish to see you get hurt. I cannot drive home enough the very knowledge that if I felt I could do this without you, I would be doing so. Unfortunately, I do need you there to receive the favor.”
[[I’ll happily let you take the lead]]
[[I’ll step in only when necessary]]
[[What about you? I don’t want to see you get hurt either]]
“I’ll happily let you take the lead,” I told her. There was nothing about what was to come that made me feel comfortable. Especially given the way I had been sick the last few days. I knew full well I probably shouldn’t have even been out here, given how many tonics Hazel had to give me. If I didn’t say a word the entire meeting, it would still be too much.
“Such a good little sweetling,” Belladonna said. She was beginning to sound more like her. The closer to the Baron we got, the more of the Belladonna Malady I had seen when I first arrived in the Night Market, became present.
The alley ended and opened into a mist filled field. A thick fog rolled across the courtyard, the air alight with small specks of dew. Wet cobblestone street peeked out from beneath the blanket of white, with old streetlamps and faded lanterns barely visible through the thick of it all. In the distance a steeple rose above it all to touch the glittering stars. A circular window was at the focal point, the glass beautiful shades of deep red and gold.
“Her lookout,” Belladonna said. “Where she stands and stares out at the kingdom she thinks she controls, all the while staying up there where it’s safe.”
I stared at the window, wondering if she was looking out at us now.
“The mists should open to us. We have been invited after all. But do not stray into them, no matter what you see or hear. I doubt there will be anyone calling for us tonight but vampires often lurk within the mist in order to lure their prey. The Velvet Guard cannot see what they do in there and the bodies go missing. It’s how they get around the entire ‘don’t kill people in the streets’ creed.”
I nodded, seeing movement within the fog. Red eyes flickering within the misty white. Small glints that shimmered before disappearing as if they were nothing more than a figment. I blinked. Feeling as if I was only now waking up from the sickness of the last few days, staring ahead into what felt like another impossible situation that I was ill-equipped to navigate. Having Belladonna by my side was at least an advantage. One I was not used to. Granted, the last time I had someone by my side, a girl almost got murdered at the dinner table so there was a small possibility that this meant nothing.
Before us, the fog parted, showing a clean path that smelled faintly of copper. Belladonna began walking forward and I kept to her side. Whispers came from either side of us, yet it was clear they were not for me. I heard them, calling out to Belladonna, some of them welcoming her home, others laughing at the blood that was about to spill. Her blood. I looked up at her nervously but she seemed unaffected, if not bored.
I didn’t dare speak as we navigated through the fog until we were standing outside an old cathedral. The siding was soot black as if it had once been burned, one of the buttresses broken and crumbled. Birds cooed from the open rafters and behind the church itself I could see several mice scramble back and forth. The stained-glass was breathtaking though. They were arranged in three beautiful panels and were the prominent focus of the church.
“What do those mean?” I asked.
They depicted a story. One that ran from one side of the church, across the door and to the other side of the building.
“It’s the story of the first vampire,” Belladonna said. “How they came to be. Legend has it, the first vampire was a Fallen. Someone that used to be in service to the Knowing. They fell because they found love with one of the Knowing's own. A Graceling. Together, the Fallen and Graceling had a child but their love was what corrupted the Fallen in the first place. So a product of their union could only also be corrupted. When the baby was born, it was ravenous. The mother did not know what to do. Nor did the father. One night, they split open their wrists, giving the last of their grace to nourish the baby. But it was not grace that spilled from their veins. It was blood. The baby sucked from their open veins and grew strong. The father fell into the madness from not having an embrace and the mother succumbed to grief. The baby, however, grew strong and created many more children. Thus, the vampires were born.”
I stared at the macabre scene, of who I assumed were the mother and father, weeping at their child's feet. I hoped for their sake that this was nothing more than a story. I had a sickening feeling that the truth was far worse.
[[Next|Chapter Ten 5]]“I’ll only step in when necessary,” I told her. I was not about to put all of this in her hands alone. Not with the history the two of them had. But, I could admit that she potentially had the upper hand here with knowing the Baron the way she did. If anything, she would be able to read the woman far better than me.
“Make sure you don’t find it necessary,” Belladonna said. Her voice was a tad bit looser than it had been prior. Now that we were approached the Baron's location, she was almost looking excited. That alone unnerved me far more.
The alley ended and opened into a mist filled field. A thick fog rolled across the courtyard, the air alight with small specks of dew. Wet cobblestone street peeked out from beneath the blanket of white, with old streetlamps and faded lanterns barely visible through the thick of it all. In the distance a steeple rose above it all to touch the glittering stars. A circular window was at the focal point, the glass beautiful shades of deep red and gold.
“Her lookout,” Belladonna said. “Where she stands and stares out at the kingdom she thinks she controls, all the while staying up there where it’s safe.”
I stared at the window, wondering if she was looking out at us now.
“The mists should open to us. We have been invited after all. But do not stray into them, no matter what you see or hear. I doubt there will be anyone calling for us tonight but vampires often lurk within the mist in order to lure their prey. The Velvet Guard cannot see what they do in there and the bodies go missing. It’s how they get around the entire ‘don’t kill people in the streets’ creed.”
I nodded, seeing movement within the fog. Red eyes flickering within the misty white. Small glints that shimmered before disappearing as if they were nothing more than a figment. I blinked. Feeling as if I was only now waking up from the sickness of the last few days, staring ahead into what felt like another impossible situation that I was ill-equipped to navigate. Having Belladonna by my side was at least an advantage. One I was not used to. Granted, the last time I had someone by my side, a girl almost got murdered at the dinner table so there was a small possibility that this meant nothing.
Before us, the fog parted, showing a clean path that smelled faintly of copper. Belladonna began walking forward and I kept to her side. Whispers came from either side of us, yet it was clear they were not for me. I heard them, calling out to Belladonna, some of them welcoming her home, others laughing at the blood that was about to spill. Her blood. I looked up at her nervously but she seemed unaffected, if not bored.
I didn’t dare speak as we navigated through the fog until we were standing outside an old cathedral. The siding was soot black as if it had once been burned, one of the buttresses broken and crumbled. Birds cooed from the open rafters and behind the church itself I could see several mice scramble back and forth. The stained-glass was breathtaking though. They were arranged in three beautiful panels and were the prominent focus of the church.
“What do those mean?” I asked.
They depicted a story. One that ran from one side of the church, across the door and to the other side of the building.
“It’s the story of the first vampire,” Belladonna said. “How they came to be. Legend has it, the first vampire was a Fallen. Someone that used to be in service to the Knowing. They fell because they found love with one of the Knowing's own. A Graceling. Together, the Fallen and Graceling had a child but their love was what corrupted the Fallen in the first place. So a product of their union could only also be corrupted. When the baby was born, it was ravenous. The mother did not know what to do. Nor did the father. One night, they split open their wrists, giving the last of their grace to nourish the baby. But it was not grace that spilled from their veins. It was blood. The baby sucked from their open veins and grew strong. The father fell into the madness from not having an embrace and the mother succumbed to grief. The baby, however, grew strong and created many more children. Thus, the vampires were born.”
I stared at the macabre scene, of who I assumed were the mother and father, weeping at their child's feet. I hoped for their sake that this was nothing more than a story. I had a sickening feeling that the truth was far worse.
[[Next|Chapter Ten 5]]My eyes ticked towards her as we walked, remembering the way she felt plastered to my back and how she had held me tight against her chest. I hadn’t seen her since that night. She had paid for our time at the spa and we had gone our separate ways without so much as a kiss on the cheek. I didn’t know if I should have felt used or if I wanted to get on my knees and crawl back for more. I could remember how she looked beneath that dress though. The curve of her hips and the heavy swell of each breast. There was a deep ache within my stomach each time I thought about what she had done to me. How easily she had brought me to completion. And not once had she even touched me. Not in the way I wanted her to at least.
“We should probably talk about what happened between us the other night,” I suggested. “Before we go any further.”
“Oh?” she asked. “And why’s that?”
Because it was something new between us. Because I wanted to know if it would happen again. <<if $gabrielro == "true">> Because I had been starting something with Gabriel.<</if>> “Don’t you think we should talk about what that means for you and I before we walk into the proverbial lion's den?”
She shrugged her shoulders, hair falling in a perfect wave down her back. “I don’t see the benefit in such a discussion. To be honest, I was letting off steam and it looked as if you needed to as well. I thought it was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“You were letting off steam?”
“Yes.”
She had manipulated my body to tip over the edge time and time again. Had held me with my legs spread, whispering praise within my ear. And afterwards, when I could barely speak and my limbs were numb, she had coaxed every last bit of pleasure I had in me and held me through the rolling waves of it until I was ready to beg her for more.
“You didn’t…” I started.
She stopped, turning to me, clearly irritated that we were having this conversation at all. “I didn’t what? Reach completion? Orgasm? No. But like I said. I was letting off steam. I find enjoyment out of commanding someone elses body in a mutually consenting situation. And you performed beautifully and I could not have been more pleased. I find relief in that just as much as you did.”
[[But I didn’t pay you]]
[[And if I want to do that again?]]
[[I want to see what you look like when you let go of your control]]
<<if $tellgabriel == "true">>[[I told Gabriel]]<</if>>
“I didn’t pay you,” I said. It had been running through my mind on a constant loop. How many times had she made the point that I couldn’t afford her? That if I wished to seek her attention, I would have to pay her. Yet, that night, she not only paid for the room we were within, but didn’t ask for any compensation of any kind.
“You did not,” she said, holding my gaze. I felt myself swallow thickly. It would be so easy to believe that she had done something out of pity. Or that this was a mistake. If she had said those words, I would have believed them. But she wasn’t. She was instead letting it linger. What had happened that night was something we had both wanted.
“So you get pleasure from watching?” I asked.
She stepped forward with a flash, suddenly so close that I would be able to touch her with a twitch of my fingers. Her eyes were molten and glowing in the dinginess of the alley. “I get pleasure in seeing someone fall apart,” she whispered. “My pleasure is derived from the trust that is given to allow me to play with your body and wring every ounce of pleasure from it. Yes, I enjoy watching. But I enjoy your submission just as much.”
My throat was dry and the ache between my legs suddenly throbbed painfully.
“Let me make this abundantly clear to you, in case you don’t understand.” Leaning forward, her lips ran down the line of my neck, pausing at my pulse. Unconsciously, I tipped my head to the side. “What happened between us the other night, I wanted. And at night, when I slip my fingers inside myself, it is your moans that I think of.”
And just like that she was gone, continuing to walk down the alley. “Now, hurry up because we have a meeting to attend and I abhor being late.”
I stood there for one long moment, feeling the blood rush through me and my body ache for her. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Once this meeting with the Baron was over, I was not letting her hide away from me again. This conversation was far from over.
[[Are you doing okay with seeing Kavatti again?]]
[[I want to tell you that you don’t have to come but I’m really glad that you are]]
[[Does Kavatti have any control over you since she made you?]]“And what if I want to do that again?” I asked, refusing to tear my eyes from her. Intimidation exuded from Belladonna like a second skin and she most often took control of a situation because of that. If I wanted to be with a woman like her though, I had a suspicion that I couldn’t back down.
A slow smile curled across her lips as I stood there silently, waiting for her answer. Briefly, the tension I had seen in her eyes began to recede as she settled into this solitary moment. Thoughts of the Baron and the Night Market were gone and instead, I was once more, putting myself out there to her. Though I was no longer waiting for her to respond. I was daring her to.
“I would tell you that you know my office hours,” she said, “though I suspect we both know that is bullshit at this point in time.” I felt a slow victory as she finally admitted it but tried not to let it show on my face. Because Belladonna was still not answering and looking back at our conversations, I realized that she was an expert at avoiding the question.
“I’m not going to the Baron’s until you answer me.”
“And what answer are you looking for?” she mused. “Because your question is simply an implication that you enjoyed what happened, which, I already know. Are you fishing, dear heart.”
Taking a step towards her, my breath mingled with her own. The game she was playing was dangerous and I wanted it to continue forever. “Answer the question, Belladonna.”
The glint of her fangs peeked from behind her crimson lips. As she leaned towards me, I could smell her perfume. Night jasmine and grave dirt. “Survive tonight,” she said. “And we’ll talk.” And just like that she was gone, continuing to walk down the alley. “Now, hurry up because we have a meeting to attend and I abhor being late.”
I stood there for one long moment, feeling the blood rush through me and my body ache for her. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Once this meeting with the Baron was over, I was not letting her hide away from me again. This conversation was far from over.
[[Are you doing okay with seeing Kavatti again?]]
[[I want to tell you that you don’t have to come but I’m really glad that you are]]
[[Does Kavatti have any control over you since she made you?]]The edge of my boots bumped against her heals as I stepped up to her. She looked amused at my advances but didn’t back away. Instead, her eyes peered at me curiously, the same molten gold they had been that night. When her lips parted just slightly, her tongue wetting the bloodred flesh, I peered at her, my own eyes dark.
“I want to see what you look like when you let go of your control,” I told her. “When this is all done with, I want to see you covered in sweat, eyes closed, as I pleasure you.”
She smirked. “Many do, dear heart. And a lucky few even have. But what makes you think you should be as lucky as they were?"
I matched her smile, brushing by her, my shoulder grazing her own. “Because I didn’t pay,” I told her, looking over my shoulder. I heard her deep throaty laugh at my words and a moment later, hear the click of her heels as she began walking after me. I didn’t think I had ever felt such satisfaction as I did in that very moment.
“Cute,” she murmured, coming to my side. “Now, can we get on with business? We do have a meeting and I abhor being late.”
I held my hands up in soft surrender. “Of course, Ms. Malady,” I teased. She rolled her eyes at me but I could see the playfulness lingering. It was a side I planned to explore the moment this entire Baron business was taken care of.
[[Are you doing okay with seeing Kavatti again?]]
[[I want to tell you that you don’t have to come but I’m really glad that you are]]
[[Does Kavatti have any control over you since she made you?]]“I told Gabriel,” I said without preamble. Her expression did not look surprised but I could see something in her stiffen all the same.
“That is unexpected. I would have thought you would keep me as a dirty little secret.” Her voice was tight and sounded pained. Without much fanfare, she took a step back from me, turning her body away and closing herself off. It was then that it hit me.
“You forgot him and I had started something, didn’t you.”
There was no need for her to answer. I could see it clearly written across her face. The guilt that I now saw there had nothing to do with me and much more to do with him. Briefly I wondered if she had done what she did with me to hurt him but not even I thought she could be that petty.
“I do not think this warrants further conversation,” she said. “I do commend you on being honest with, Gabriel. He does value that above anything else.”
“Belladonna, I really think that we need to talk about–”
“We don’t. Now, hurry up because we have a meeting to attend and I abhor being late.” The snap of her heels began echoing down the alley as she continued forward once more, leaving me to stand alone, staring after her. Now was probably not the time. But the moment I had the chance, I would be addressing this again. Belladonna’s days of hiding were coming to a close.
[[Are you doing okay with seeing Kavatti again?]]
[[I want to tell you that you don’t have to come but I’m really glad that you are]]
[[Does Kavatti have any control over you since she made you?]]“I understand not wanting to see me get hurt but what about you?” I asked. “I don’t want to see you get hurt either.”
“Oh, believe me, what is about to take place will not hurt me. In fact, the closer we get to her domain, I am finding myself breathless with excitement. I think I will very much enjoy seeing my old friend again.”
The old friend who killed Malcolm. Who Hazel was terrified of. Who Milo wanted dead. Who Gabriel sneered at the mere mention of. Belladonna’s smile was out of place.
The alley ended and opened into a mist filled field. A thick fog rolled across the courtyard, the air alight with small specks of dew. Wet cobblestone street peeked out from beneath the blanket of white, with old streetlamps and faded lanterns barely visible through the thick of it all. In the distance a steeple rose above it all to touch the glittering stars. A circular window was at the focal point, the glass beautiful shades of deep red and gold.
“Her lookout,” Belladonna said. “Where she stands and stares out at the kingdom she thinks she controls, all the while staying up there where it’s safe.”
I stared at the window, wondering if she was looking out at us now.
“The mists should open to us. We have been invited after all. But do not stray into them, no matter what you see or hear. I doubt there will be anyone calling for us tonight but vampires often lurk within the mist in order to lure their prey. The Velvet Guard cannot see what they do in there and the bodies go missing. It’s how they get around the entire ‘don’t kill people in the streets’ creed.”
I nodded, seeing movement within the fog. Red eyes flickering within the misty white. Small glints that shimmered before disappearing as if they were nothing more than a figment. I blinked. Feeling as if I was only now waking up from the sickness of the last few days, staring ahead into what felt like another impossible situation that I was ill-equipped to navigate. Having Belladonna by my side was at least an advantage. One I was not used to. Granted, the last time I had someone by my side, a girl almost got murdered at the dinner table so there was a small possibility that this meant nothing.
Before us, the fog parted, showing a clean path that smelled faintly of copper. Belladonna began walking forward and I kept to her side. Whispers came from either side of us, yet it was clear they were not for me. I heard them, calling out to Belladonna, some of them welcoming her home, others laughing at the blood that was about to spill. Her blood. I looked up at her nervously but she seemed unaffected, if not bored.
I didn’t dare speak as we navigated through the fog until we were standing outside an old cathedral. The siding was soot black as if it had once been burned, one of the buttresses broken and crumbled. Birds cooed from the open rafters and behind the church itself I could see several mice scramble back and forth. The stained-glass was breathtaking though. They were arranged in three beautiful panels and were the prominent focus of the church.
“What do those mean?” I asked.
They depicted a story. One that ran from one side of the church, across the door and to the other side of the building.
“It’s the story of the first vampire,” Belladonna said. “How they came to be. Legend has it, the first vampire was a Fallen. Someone that used to be in service to the Knowing. They fell because they found love with one of the Knowing's own. A Graceling. Together, the Fallen and Graceling had a child but their love was what corrupted the Fallen in the first place. So a product of their union could only also be corrupted. When the baby was born, it was ravenous. The mother did not know what to do. Nor did the father. One night, they split open their wrists, giving the last of their grace to nourish the baby. But it was not grace that spilled from their veins. It was blood. The baby sucked from their open veins and grew strong. The father fell into the madness from not having an embrace and the mother succumbed to grief. The baby, however, grew strong and created many more children. Thus, the vampires were born.”
I stared at the macabre scene, of who I assumed were the mother and father, weeping at their child's feet. I hoped for their sake that this was nothing more than a story. I had a sickening feeling that the truth was far worse.
[[Next|Chapter Ten 5]]
The doors opened before us, bisecting the glass tale. Two individuals stood on either side of the door. Their eyes were deep red, their skin flushed from the heat of blood.
“Welcome home, Belladonna,” they said in unison.
She nodded to both politely as she stepped across the threshold. I noticed she did not look at me, denouncing any importance I might have with her actions. When I passed by the two greeters, I felt their gaze upon me, but they made no move to stop me from following her.
The cathedral’s pews had all been skirted to the sides of the wall. The place itself was lit only by the flame of hundreds of candles, strewn through the room, their wax dripping down each surface in a sculpted miasma of white and gold. Across the velvet lined pews, I saw individuals stretched, lounging with their legs tossed down the back of the bench or off to the side. Some of them, I realized, were human. Heads tilted to one side or legs spread. Each positioned designed to give access to the several vampires circling their bodies. The deep sound of suckling filled the air along with the low moans from those being feasted upon.
I turned my head from one particular sight as I caught the image of a young woman laying in repose, stripped naked while two others suckled from her breast, their lips bright red and their cheeks plump with the life they stole.
Belladonna did not stop as she walked to the dais at the front of the church, heading towards a door that was situated behind it. A guard stood there in wait but only nodded as she approached, opening the door for the two of us. From there, a winding set of stairs wove round and round in a circle. I didn’t dare speak as we made our way upwards. And again, Belladonna did not even look at me.
Upon reaching the landing there was no door or archway to lead us into a room. The tower itself opened up instead. Where a large bell would have hung, a desk was now situated beneath. There, a young woman sat, waiting patiently for us. Her grin grew into something beautiful and fierce as we stepped foot into her domain.
Hopping off the desk, blonde, bouncing hair falling gracefully down her back, the woman approached. Her violet eyes were trained on Belladonna, luminous in a room that was filled with nothing but the flowing light of the moon and small lanterns. Each light hung throughout the cathedral in a mimicry of the ones outside.
“Belladonna,” the woman said, approaching us with arms outstretched. She was nearly three feet shorter than Belladonna, forcing the taller vampire to bend forward to meet the blondes embrace. They kissed each other on their cheeks with a flourish, matching fake smiles etched across their skin.
“It is so good to see you, my dear,” the woman cooed.
“You as well, Kavatti. You are looking far more filled out than you had been before. You used to be such a haggard little thing. Baronhood and the theft of youth must be doing you well.”
My eyes went wide as I listened to Belladonna’s words, almost certain that we were about to be shoved out the spyglass window before us. Instead, Kavatti laughed. It was high-pitched and full of joy as she took Belladonna’s arm, squeezing it tightly.
“Oh how I miss your wit,” she proclaimed. “We used to get up to such fun in the day, didn’t we? And look at us now. Me a Baron. You a whore.”
“Queen of the whores,” Belladonna corrected. “We prefer to be seen as individuals, though I suppose that is something you wouldn’t know much about since you spent most of your life as a literal gutter rat.”
“Your only friend during those days,” Kavatti said. “You used to be such a mindless little girl. Believing anything anyone said as long as they gave you validation.”
They both laughed together, leaning towards each other as if sharing some sort of secret. I just stood off to the side, ready to run if I had to.
“Please,” Kavatti said. “Sit. Introduce me to this warm blood you told me about in your letter. It is you, isn’t it?”
“$name,” I said.
“Belladonna went on and on about you. Said that you needed to seek my aid. I must say, I thought she was having me on at first. Bella is not one to ever come back and grovel and yet here she is.”
Two velvet lined seats sat on one side of an old oak desk. Belladonna and I took them while Kavattie made her way round to the other side, sitting in a gold lined wing back that was framed by the circular stained-glass window we had seen from below. The place Belladonna said she could safely look out at her kingdom.
“Now, I would just like to say, before we start this meeting, I do have guards standing by. I don’t usually conduct meetings without them, but this is Bella that we are talking about here and I just want to be able to have a freeing conversation with my old friend. But don’t get up to your old tricks, huh Bella?”
“Why whatever do you mean?” she asked.
Kavatti stared at me with a knowing smile. “Bella was known for her poison. It’s how she got the name, after all. She used to have drinks with people and slip a little bit of poison into their beverage and then rob them blind after they were frothing at the mouth. Just to be sure I have taken all goblets away from here.”
“Oh, Kavatti, you know as well as I do that herbs are not poisonous to vampires. It wouldn’t work on you even if I tried.”
“Still,” she said, tapping her finger in the air as if to tap Belladonna’s nose. “You never can be too careful.”
I stared between the two of them. The animosity thick as steel. It had me at the edge of my seat, fingers curled around each arm.
“Now,” Kavatti finally turned to me. “Tell me how I can help you. $name, was it?”
[[Let Belladonna speak]]
[[Explain to Kavatti why you’re here]]I looked at Belladonna, letting her take the lead. She had insinuated that the less I talked to Kavatti, the better. I wasn’t about to test that theory this early on in the meeting. Especially after what I saw downstairs.
“We are here seeking information on the Gatekeeper,” Belladonna said. “If we gain the favor of each Baron, there is a spell we can conduct to reveal who they are.”
Kavatti raised her brow. “Was I addressing you, Bella?”
“You were not,” Belladonna agreed. “Though, you only ever did when you truly needed something from me.” I shifted in my seat, unnerved by the delight on Kavatti’s face. “We have most of the favors from the Barons by now but we are still in need of yours.”
“The Gatekeeper,” Kavatti mused. “Didn’t I kill him?”
“You did,” Belladonna said.
“Bella, you should have brought his lover with you instead of this one. He was a delicious little piece of meat. I enjoyed watching him cry as that man died in his arms.”
[[Stay calm and silent]]
[[Way I heard it you were screaming as you ran from the apothecary]]
“Yes.” Belladonna had told me to let her do the talking but it was clear that this was my moment. The explanation. Belladonna could do the negotiating. I didn’t want to place my responsibilities entirely on Belladonna and I certainly did not want to appear meek. “We are seeking the name of the Gatekeeper,” I said. “In order to do that, we need to gain a favor from each baron. There is a spell that we can conduct afterwards that would reveal who they are.”
The grin that stretched across her face was unnatural. Pointed at each end and cracking across the porcelain of her cheeks. “The Gatekeeper,” she said. “Didn’t I kill him?”
“You did,” Belladonna said.
“Bella, you should have brought his lover with you instead of this one. He was a delicious little piece of meat. I enjoyed watching him cry as that man died in his arms.”
[[Stay calm and silent]]
[[Way I heard it you were screaming as you ran from the apothecary]]
I held my tongue, trying not to focus on the fact that it was Milo she was speaking of.
“His cries delighted me for so long,” she continued. “I’d see him in the market after that. Occasionally, that is. He was a wreck,” she said gleefully. “Tear stained cheeks. Always drunk. Stumbling down an alley to vomit in the dark before pretending he was okay enough to go back to that wretched little witch.”
I kept my face neutral, trying to mimic Belladonna’s pose. A pout spread across Kavatti’s plush lips.
“Bella, your puppet is not talking. Make them talk.”
“Say something interesting, Kavatti and maybe ?they will.”
“I want to hear from ?them tonight, Bella. Not you. You will address me when I am speaking,” she told me directly, not giving me room to deny her. “The power should have gone to me that night,” she said airily. “Apparently, the Night Market has a pesky rule though. About Barons doubling up on power. Bitch.”
[[I’m sorry. Do you know the Night Market? As in the entity?]]
[[How did you not look into that before]]
[[It doesn’t seem like you need any power]]“I heard differently,” I said, blood boiling at the blasé mention of that night. “I heard you ran from the apothecary screaming. Ultimately failing your poorly put together plan to begin with.”
Her fangs flashed, the tips of which were stained ruby. She licked her lips as she took me in. “Oh, I like you. Belladonna, do you like ?them?”
“I’m indifferent,” Belladonna replied. I couldn’t tell by her voice that she was irritated but I certainly knew I would be receiving a talking to if we got out of here. Only moments in and I had already lost my temper.
“I want to hear from ?them tonight, Bella. Not you. You will address me when I am speaking,” she told me directly, not giving me room to deny her. “The power should have gone to me that night,” she said airily. “Apparently, the Night Market has a pesky rule though. About Barons doubling up on power. Bitch.”
[[I’m sorry. Do you know the Night Market? As in the entity?]]
[[How did you not look into that before]]
[[It doesn’t seem like you need any power]]“Do you know of the Night Market?” I asked. “As in the entity of this place?” I had only ever heard Belladonna speak of it. It seemed odd that the next vampire I met, also referred to the market in such a way. It was hard to place why it stuck out so. There was something about their tone. As if they were speaking of a familiar friend. To the casual observer maybe it was nothing but it had always struck a dissonant cord through me.
“Do I know them personally?” she laughed. “My dear, there is nothing in this realm more elusive than the Night Market, aside from perhaps the current Gatekeeper.”
I slumped back in my seat, not sure why I had even asked. It had just felt overwhelmingly important.
“Malcolm Albright,” Kavatti said with a roll of her eyes. “I should have taken more time with him. Dreadful little thing. Do you know he was trying to weed out the Barons? I of course didn’t learn that until later but he was planning on trying to reform us. //Us//. Can you believe that?”
“What was he trying to reform?”
She waved a hand in the air, slumping back in her chair, bored. “Oh, I don’t know. Something about the power structure of it all or some ridiculous endeavor. He thought the Barons should split responsibilities. That no one person should have that amount of power. Went on and on to Kamille about the pain he felt with each gate that opened. Whiny little bitch if you ask me.”
I leaned forward, my fingers curling over the claw ends of the chair. Belladonna cleared her throat, a warning for me not to let her words get the best of me.
“Kavatti, do we really need to hash out something that happened ten years ago?” she asked tiredly. “We’re talking about the current Gatekeeper. We wish to find them and it would be so much easier to do with a name.”
“And what is your reason for wishing to find them?”
“The market is dying,” I explained, my voice controlled. “The gates that are continuing to open are shredding the market apart. We either need to tell the current Gatekeeper to stop opening gates, or to help them if they are not able to control their power.”
“Pretty terrible Gatekeeper if they can’t even put a stop to the thing they are in charge of,” she said flippantly. “But yes, I suspected it was something of the sorts. I’ve been seeing the portents in the sky. Something is coming. The black looks thinner.”
“I’m surprised you have even been able to read portents. That never was your strong suit,” Belladonna muttered.
Kavatti heard her, though. Vampire hearing. And just like that, I was forgotten again. “I will of course give the two of you my favor,” she said. “After all, it is the least I could do for you, sweet, Belladonna. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be sitting in this chair now.”
At that, I could see the first sign of Belladonna’s anger, her nails digging into the wood of the chair. “And what would you like in return?” Belladonna asked.
Kavatti pouted, a small tsk on her lips. “Oh, Bella. I do not wish to have anything in return. Having you here again, welcoming you back into the fold, is all I ever wanted.”
[[Wait. What? You’re going back to her?]]
[[Play along like you knew this all along]]
“How is it,” I started, “that you didn’t know this before? Did you not do any research prior to going after him? All I’ve heard since arriving in the market is the cardinal rules. A Baron cannot take another Baron’s power, is one of the big ones.”
“How do you think those rules were discovered,” she said succinctly. “It is thanks to me that we even knew about that one. Really, the market should be thanking me.”
I couldn’t figure out why that would be but I also didn’t think this was a woman that operated in the realm of reason. Not unless it suited her.
“Malcolm Albright,” Kavatti said with a roll of her eyes. “I should have taken more time with him. Dreadful little thing. Do you know he was trying to weed out the Barons? I of course didn’t learn that until later but he was planning on trying to reform us. //Us//. Can you believe that?”
“What was he trying to reform?”
She waved a hand in the air, slumping back in her chair, bored. “Oh, I don’t know. Something about the power structure of it all or some ridiculous endeavor. He thought the Barons should split responsibilities. That no one person should have that amount of power. Went on and on to Kamille about the pain he felt with each gate that opened. Whiny little bitch if you ask me.”
I leaned forward, my fingers curling over the claw ends of the chair. Belladonna cleared her throat, a warning for me not to let her words get the best of me.
“Kavatti, do we really need to hash out something that happened ten years ago?” she asked tiredly. “We’re talking about the current Gatekeeper. We wish to find them and it would be so much easier to do with a name.”
“And what is your reason for wishing to find them?”
“The market is dying,” I explained, my voice controlled. “The gates that are continuing to open are shredding the market apart. We either need to tell the current Gatekeeper to stop opening gates, or to help them if they are not able to control their power.”
“Pretty terrible Gatekeeper if they can’t even put a stop to the thing they are in charge of,” she said flippantly. “But yes, I suspected it was something of the sorts. I’ve been seeing the portents in the sky. Something is coming. The black looks thinner.”
“I’m surprised you have even been able to read portents. That never was your strong suit,” Belladonna muttered.
Kavatti heard her, though. Vampire hearing. And just like that, I was forgotten again. “I will of course give the two of you my favor,” she said. “After all, it is the least I could do for you, sweet, Belladonna. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be sitting in this chair now.”
At that, I could see the first sign of Belladonna’s anger, her nails digging into the wood of the chair. “And what would you like in return?” Belladonna asked.
Kavatti pouted, a small tsk on her lips. “Oh, Bella. I do not wish to have anything in return. Having you here again, welcoming you back into the fold, is all I ever wanted.”
[[Wait. What? You’re going back to her?]]
[[Play along like you knew this all along]]
“It looks like you are doing quite well for yourself,” I said. Though even I could tell my tone was thin. Not that the woman seemed to hear it. She was far more concerned with herself than anything I had to say.
“Malcolm Albright,” Kavatti said with a roll of her eyes. “I should have taken more time with him. Dreadful little thing. Do you know he was trying to weed out the Barons? I of course didn’t learn that until later but he was planning on trying to reform us. //Us//. Can you believe that?”
“What was he trying to reform?”
She waved a hand in the air, slumping back in her chair, bored. “Oh, I don’t know. Something about the power structure of it all or some ridiculous endeavor. He thought the Barons should split responsibilities. That no one person should have that amount of power. Went on and on to Kamille about the pain he felt with each gate that opened. Whiny little bitch if you ask me.”
I leaned forward, my fingers curling over the claw ends of the chair. Belladonna cleared her throat, a warning for me not to let her words get the best of me.
“Kavatti, do we really need to hash out something that happened ten years ago?” she asked tiredly. “We’re talking about the current Gatekeeper. We wish to find them and it would be so much easier to do with a name.”
“And what is your reason for wishing to find them?”
“The market is dying,” I explained, my voice controlled. “The gates that are continuing to open are shredding the market apart. We either need to tell the current Gatekeeper to stop opening gates, or to help them if they are not able to control their power.”
“Pretty terrible Gatekeeper if they can’t even put a stop to the thing they are in charge of,” she said flippantly. “But yes, I suspected it was something of the sorts. I’ve been seeing the portents in the sky. Something is coming. The black looks thinner.”
“I’m surprised you have even been able to read portents. That never was your strong suit,” Belladonna muttered.
Kavatti heard her, though. Vampire hearing. And just like that, I was forgotten again. “I will of course give the two of you my favor,” she said. “After all, it is the least I could do for you, sweet, Belladonna. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be sitting in this chair now.”
At that, I could see the first sign of Belladonna’s anger, her nails digging into the wood of the chair. “And what would you like in return?” Belladonna asked.
Kavatti pouted, a small tsk on her lips. “Oh, Bella. I do not wish to have anything in return. Having you here again, welcoming you back into the fold, is all I ever wanted.”
[[Wait. What? You’re going back to her?]]
[[Play along like you knew this all along]]
“Wait. What?” I looked at Belladonna sharply. Belladonna never lied. But she certainly talked around the truth. If I had known that she had planned to come back to Kavatti’s side to get the favor, I would have never stepped foot outside of Hazel’s apothecary.
“Oh, did she not mention it?” Kavatti said innocently. Belladonna kept her gaze forward. “The agreement for this meeting was that Belladonna forsakes her life of spreading her legs for anyone with coin and instead, comes home. Take her rightful place at my side. You see,” Kavatti rose, motioning for someone to come in. The doors behind us opened as someone pushed in a tea cart. So much for keeping goblets out of Belladonna’s reach. They were filled with blood, still steaming from the kill.
“We are not doing this,” I told Belladonna. “You are not going to do this.”
But again, Belladonna said nothing.
“Belladonna was supposed to be my informant. The woman who spied through the market for me. But she got angry over a small misunderstanding and left.”
“Misunderstanding?” Belladonna scoffed. “I wasn’t aware that stealing Baronhood from me was a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding on your part, dear. Like I said. You used to be so naive.” Picking up one of the goblets, she held it out for Belladonna.
[[Intervene|Chapter Ten Intervene]]
[[Trust that Belladonna has a plan]]
I felt my stomach clench. I should have known that what we were doing was going to come at a personal price. Her reactions earlier in the evening suddenly made all the more sense. Belladonna was not nervous over seeing Kavatti again, she was dreading walking back into the one place she had tried so hard to escape.
Rising from her seat, Kavatti motioned for someone to come forth, edging out of the shadows. I wasn’t sure when they had come up the stairs but they pushed a tea cart towards us, a steaming goblet on display. “Belladonna was supposed to be my informant,” Kavatti said. “The woman who spied through the market for me. But she got angry over a small misunderstanding and left. So you can imagine how delighted I was to learn that she wished to come home. It’ll be the first time in years you’ve kept your legs shut, won’t it Bella?”
Belladonna looked completely calm, her breaths even as she sat and observed Kavatti’s production. The woman was expecting her to snap. It was clear she was expecting a fight. But Belladonna had barely even moved. “I love how you still consider that entire situation a misunderstanding, Kavatti. I was not aware that stealing one's Baronhood from your friend could be classified as such.”
“A misunderstanding on your part, dear. Like I said. You used to be so naive.” Picking up one of the goblets, she held it out for Belladonna.
[[Intervene|Chapter Ten Intervene]]
[[Trust that Belladonna has a plan]]“You are not doing this,” I said, taking a step forward. When Belladonna turned to look at me though, it was with a sadness in her eyes. She had already made up her mind and had marched down here to her fate. All to help me. “No,” I said again. “No. We don’t need her favor. We will find another way. We do not need to be playing by these ridiculous rules anymore.”
“Oh, Bella,” Kavati crooned, clearing enjoying what she saw. “I like this one. If you want, you can turn them once you’ve proven yourself loyal again.” Reaching out, she brushed her fingers over Belladonna’s cheeks. “We all need our little lapdogs.”
Almost lazily, Belladonna turned back towards her. “I want nothing to do with ?them. Let’s just get on with this.”
[[Stand between the two of them]]
[[Offer yourself in service instead]]
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[I mean nothing to you?]]<</if>>
<<set $defykavatti to "true">>“I hear that has changed,” Kavatti continued. I kept myself as still as possible. Belladonna had worked hard to get to her position in the market. She was a self-made woman. There was no way, even for the Baron’s favor, that she would go right back into the arms of someone like this. There had to be something more. Something I had perhaps missed. The faith I was putting within her at this moment in time was nearly incalculable.
The goblet was between them. A peace offering. For a moment, I was certain Belladonna was not going to take it as she just stared at it. To an outsider, I wasn’t sure they would realize her anger, but I could see it. I could see it in the way she held herself. In the slight way she had her head tilted. But she reached out and curled her fingers around the goblet all the same, brushing against Kavatti’s. Tipping her glass up in salute, Belladonna took a sip of the steaming blood, licking her lips after.
Kavatti gazed at her eagerly, holding the breath she did not need, her body vibrating with anticipation. Something was supposed to happen and it was doubtful that it was to be Belladonna taking another deep pull of her drink.
“I am so proud of the woman you became, Bella,” Kavatti said. I could almost believe the sincerity.
Belladonna set the glass aside, plucking up a napkin and dabbing at her lips. “You have what you want now, Kavatti. I have drank your blood once more. I am home. The favor please.”
“Of course.” Though now, Kavatti seemed nervous. As if she expected more fanfare for such a moment.
Her signet ring was rust-colored and embedded with a small needle. Pressing the tip of the needle into her thumb, I watched as a bead of blood bubbled from her skin. It popped wetly, revealing a small ruby. With barely a glance, she handed it to me. “Here you are,” she said. “Do with it what you will but I can almost guarantee you that whoever this new Gatekeeper is, isn’t worth the fuss. It is clear they don’t know what they are doing.” She was pouting. It struck me suddenly that however she had imagined Belladonna returning to her to be, it was not this. Barely a fight and no resilience to her blood whatsoever. The woman looked positively angered by the ordeal, despite getting exactly what she wanted.
As she began walking away, Belladonna stepped forward. “Kavatti, a moment before I send $name away.” Pulling from her pocket a velvet lined box, she held it out to the woman. When she opened it, she revealed a lace spider silk choker with rubies dripping down one side.
“It’s beautiful,” Kavatti said, intrigued once more. “And I will not be touching it.”
“Oh don’t be silly, Kavatti,” Belladonna said with a roll of her eyes. “I have drank your blood. I am in your domain. What do you think this choker is going to do?”
“It was another of your fun tricks. You used to give those to others to choke the life out of them.”
The things I was learning about Belladonna tonight…
“Yes, Kavatti. I crushed their windpipe. I stole their breath. You have none. I am merely giving this to you as a gesture. You used to love these. You always said you liked the way they made others scream.”
Kavatti looked torn. “I did,” she said slowly.
[[Next|Chapter Ten 2]]
Pulling the necklace from the box, Belladonna held it by her fingers, making the gems sparkle in the moonlight. “Will you let me place it upon you, mistress?” she asked, her eyes turning humble and cast downwards.
Kavatti looked far more delighted with Belladonna’s submission than anything else. “Of course, dear. I would love to wear any gift you give me.”
I watched silently as Belladonna stepped forward. Lowering herself, Belladonna knelt before Kavatti in supplication, clasping the necklace tight and fanning the jewels so they dripped perfectly along one side of her shoulder, a spray of ruby blood emerging delicately from the choker. Kavatti looked hungry at the display of subordination. With black tipped nails, she ran them through Belladonna’s long tresses. Both I and Kavatti could see the discomfort on her face but she bit her lip, refusing to give in to her own pride and anger.
Kavatti had won.
“Such a good little whore,” she cooed. “Welcome home.”
I watched in shock and disgust as Belladonna fell into the woman's arms, holding her tightly and tucking her cheek against her blond tresses. I wanted to steal her away. To rip her from the Baron's arms and drag her back through the mists. Seeing Belladonna kneel was never something I wanted to endure.
“Thank you for having me,” Belladonna said. “It is good to be home.”
A gasp filled the air. Something wet and ripe as it was split in two. I watched as Kavatti’s violet eyes went wide, her face slack in shock. When Belladonna leaned away, I noticed her hands still on the woman's back, her wrists starting to soak in blood.
“Oh, darling,” she tsked. “How gullible and naive you are.”
Something tore from Belladonna’s back, bone black wings splitting her dress as her arms and legs elongated into a translucent bent form. As she stood, she rose in the air, wings pulsing as they extended outwards, knocking the desk across the room. Kavatti was speared upon Belladonna’s nails, the likes of which had elongated into barbed claws that clinked together. Blood-red hair floated around her sunken face and Belladonna looked at the woman she had in her clutches, eyes deep pools of gold.
A wet and guttural moan fell from Kavatti’s lips as the two of them knocked against the top of the bell tower, hovering near the ceiling of the domed cathedral. She couldn’t scream, the choker cutting off her voice.
“Thank you for keeping my seat warm.” It was not Belladonna’s voice. It was far more gutteral in nature, a deep vibrato that made me ill. “You are too kind.”
And with that, Belladonna tore the woman in two. The bisected halves kicked momentarily in her embrace before Belladonna began shredding them apart. She clawed at her skin, making sure there was nothing left but wet plops of viscera to hit the floor. Behind me, I could hear the sound of wind screaming up the spiral staircase as the guards below became aware of what was transpiring.
“Dear heart,” I heard Belladonna calling me. It felt distant as I stared at her, at this creature that was before me. She looked nothing like the woman I knew, however. <<if $belladonnasex == "true">> The one who had held my legs open and made me tip into euphoria time and time again. <</if>>This was something else entirely. “The guard will be here soon, dear heart. Are you okay?” She had sunk down to the ground again, her bare feet landing in a puddle of blood. She looked like her in a blink, though her gown was torn and hanging from her in shreds.
[[Oddly, I think I’m okay]]
[[No I’m not okay!]]
[[What the fuck did you just do]]
I looked at her. Really looked at her. There was a part of me that thought that perhaps the shock would hit at a later time. That I would be walking along and be overcome with the terror that I knew I should have been feeling now. But, for the moment, I felt nothing. The Baron of the Mists was clearly not someone we needed within this world and the fact that she was blackmailing Belladonna to her side left little room for sympathy over the sight of the remains upon the floor. Remains that I at least had half a mind not to stare at too long. At least Belladonna had shredded her so thoroughly that it was hard to recognize what she had once been.
“Oddly enough,” I told her. “I am okay. Are you?”
Her eyes weren’t focusing. They were flitting around the room as she scented the blood. Licking her lips, she gathered some of the liquid still on her chin and I thought I was going to be sick. When she walked towards me, her feet did not touch the ground. She was her old self but she didn’t look like her at all. My mind kept bouncing between the woman I knew and the monster that had emerged.
“So many questions. So so many questions, my little dove. Must answer them before you fly far far away from here.”
“Belladonna, what the hell is happening to you?”
She was beginning to giggle, something washing over her that pulsed beneath her skin like a heart beat, glowing with the faint edge of silver. I looked behind her, just to make sure Kavatti was still dead.
“Won’t be long now,” she said, a grimace lashing across her face.
The power. Belladonna was becoming a Baron before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it. When she tipped back her head and screamed, light filled her, looking as if it were burning her from within. The blood of all she had drank leached out of her like sweat, making her skin slick with death and her tears nothing more than crimson streaks to mingle with it all.
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>She was slipping. I could see it in the way her gaze shifted through the room, flickering through visions that I could not see, her body shaking with far too much power and far too little control. She rose higher and higher into the cathedral and I suddenly knew without a doubt that if I did nothing, I would lose her.
Reaching up, I grabbed her hand. She was nearly out of my reach but the tips of my fingers were able to wrap around her own as I tugged her down enough to entwine my fingers with hers.
“Belladonna,” I shouted to her over the screaming shadows that were curling around the room, the sound of bat wings fluttering in the rafters. “Belladonna, you have to come back to me,” I pleaded. “You can’t do this.”
She looked as if she didn’t see me though, her mouth open in pain and the blood staining her skin pink. Life finally flooding her once more, only to take her own away.
Tugging at her hand, I pulled at her, startling as her eyes snapped to mine. My feet were swept out from under me as I was buoyed into her arms and we rose higher and higher into the air.
“My heart,” she murmured. “My soft heart.”
Reaching out, I cupped her cheek, the blood washing over my hands. “I’m here,” I said. “I’m not leaving.”
For a moment, she smiled. Something soft and sweet, denoting the human she may have once been. It was swept away as her body was wracked in pain and she began to writhe against me. I tried to hold on but the slick of her skin made it nearly impossible. I was falling so suddenly, my knees cracking against the ground.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriels entrance]]
<<set $bellamonster to "okay">>“No, I am not okay,” I shouted at her. “How can anyone be okay after what I just saw?” Death was not a friend of mine and while I felt no remorse over what had happened to the Baron, my stomach was churning with the sight of it, the adrenaline over even being present shaking me apart. Suddenly, Belladonna’s insistence that she had not wanted me here, took on an entirely new tone.
Her eyes weren’t focusing. They were flitting around the room as she scented the blood. Licking her lips, she gathered some of the liquid still on her chin and I thought I was going to be sick. When she walked towards me, her feet did not touch the ground. She was her old self but she didn’t look like her at all. My mind kept bouncing between the woman I knew and the monster that had emerged.
“So many questions. So so many questions, my little dove. Must answer them before you fly far far away from here.”
“Belladonna, what the hell is happening to you?”
She was beginning to giggle, something washing over her that pulsed beneath her skin like a heart beat, glowing with the faint edge of silver. I looked behind her, just to make sure Kavatti was still dead.
“Won’t be long now,” she said, a grimace lashing across her face.
The power. Belladonna was becoming a Baron before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it. When she tipped back her head and screamed, light filled her, looking as if it were burning her from within. The blood of all she had drank leached out of her like sweat, making her skin slick with death and her tears nothing more than crimson streaks to mingle with it all.
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>She was slipping. I could see it in the way her gaze shifted through the room, flickering through visions that I could not see, her body shaking with far too much power and far too little control. She rose higher and higher into the cathedral and I suddenly knew without a doubt that if I did nothing, I would lose her.
Reaching up, I grabbed her hand. She was nearly out of my reach but the tips of my fingers were able to wrap around her own as I tugged her down enough to entwine my fingers with hers.
“Belladonna,” I shouted to her over the screaming shadows that were curling around the room, the sound of bat wings fluttering in the rafters. “Belladonna, you have to come back to me,” I pleaded. “You can’t do this.”
She looked as if she didn’t see me though, her mouth open in pain and the blood staining her skin pink. Life finally flooding her once more, only to take her own away.
Tugging at her hand, I pulled at her, startling as her eyes snapped to mine. My feet were swept out from under me as I was buoyed into her arms and we rose higher and higher into the air.
“My heart,” she murmured. “My soft heart.”
Reaching out, I cupped her cheek, the blood washing over my hands. “I’m here,” I said. “I’m not leaving.”
For a moment, she smiled. Something soft and sweet, denoting the human she may have once been. It was swept away as her body was wracked in pain and she began to writhe against me. I tried to hold on but the slick of her skin made it nearly impossible. I was falling so suddenly, my knees cracking against the ground.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriels entrance]]
<<set $bellamonster to "bad">>“What the fuck, Belladonna? What the literal fuck? Have you been planning that the entire time?” My voice was shrill and I felt my blood rushing through me as my heart threatened to pound out of my chest.
Her eyes weren’t focusing. They were flitting around the room as she scented the blood. Licking her lips, she gathered some of the liquid still on her chin and I thought I was going to be sick. When she walked towards me, her feet did not touch the ground. She was her old self but she didn’t look like her at all. My mind kept bouncing between the woman I knew and the monster that had emerged.
“So many questions. So so many questions, my little dove. Must answer them before you fly far far away from here.”
“Belladonna, what the hell is happening to you?”
She was beginning to giggle, something washing over her that pulsed beneath her skin like a heart beat, glowing with the faint edge of silver. I looked behind her, just to make sure Kavatti was still dead.
“Won’t be long now,” she said, a grimace lashing across her face.
The power. Belladonna was becoming a Baron before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it. When she tipped back her head and screamed, light filled her, looking as if it were burning her from within. The blood of all she had drank leached out of her like sweat, making her skin slick with death and her tears nothing more than crimson streaks to mingle with it all.
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>She was slipping. I could see it in the way her gaze shifted through the room, flickering through visions that I could not see, her body shaking with far too much power and far too little control. She rose higher and higher into the cathedral and I suddenly knew without a doubt that if I did nothing, I would lose her.
Reaching up, I grabbed her hand. She was nearly out of my reach but the tips of my fingers were able to wrap around her own as I tugged her down enough to entwine my fingers with hers.
“Belladonna,” I shouted to her over the screaming shadows that were curling around the room, the sound of bat wings fluttering in the rafters. “Belladonna, you have to come back to me,” I pleaded. “You can’t do this.”
She looked as if she didn’t see me though, her mouth open in pain and the blood staining her skin pink. Life finally flooding her once more, only to take her own away.
Tugging at her hand, I pulled at her, startling as her eyes snapped to mine. My feet were swept out from under me as I was buoyed into her arms and we rose higher and higher into the air.
“My heart,” she murmured. “My soft heart.”
Reaching out, I cupped her cheek, the blood washing over my hands. “I’m here,” I said. “I’m not leaving.”
For a moment, she smiled. Something soft and sweet, denoting the human she may have once been. It was swept away as her body was wracked in pain and she began to writhe against me. I tried to hold on but the slick of her skin made it nearly impossible. I was falling so suddenly, my knees cracking against the ground.<</if>>
[[Next|Chapter Ten Gabriels entrance]]
<<set $bellamonster to "bad">>“You could have said something.”
“And have you stop me? What do you even take me for?”
“You could have gotten $name hurt.”
“Believe me, if I could have done things any different, I wouldn’t have even allowed ?them to come. As it was, I killed anyone that even got near ?them. It’s doubtful $name ever knew anyone got near, it all happened so fast.”
“You are not making it better, Bella.”
“I’m not trying to make it better, Gabriel. I’m trying to be truthful.”
My eyes opened with a slow blink. I saw the familiar rafters of my room, the thick beams above wrapped with twinkle lights that mimicked the wisps in the trees. At the edge of my bed sat Belladonna and Gabriel. Gabriel sat stiffly upon a wooden chair from the living room while Belladonna elegantly crossed her legs upon the softer cushioned chair I kept in the corner of my room. They were both cleaned up, not a speck of blood on them. Belladonna was without her makeup, though, her hair still wet and pulled back from her face.
“How are you feeling?” Gabriel’s deep baritone shone through the fog lingering around my thoughts.
I looked back and forth between them, ignoring the question. A part of me was becoming sick with the constant asking of it when it was apparent whatever my answer may be, didn’t matter in the end. I would still have to get out of bed. Go forward. Face a Baron and watch a woman I had known for months become a monster.
“One of you better explain to me what exactly just happened,” I said. The scent of blood was still thick in the air despite there being none. I had closed my eyes to most of it, but the sounds would haunt me forever.
“That would be my cue,” Belladonna said, leaning forward. “$name, what do you remember?”
[[You set me up]]
[[You becoming a monster]]
[[You killing Kavatti]]
<<set $endmists to "true">>“You set me up,” I said, feeling the same flutter of panic that I had felt when it had all originally clicked into place. I had been used to get to the Baron. Belladonna had seen the excuse of the favors and began petitioning her old rival, putting everything into motion while also making sure I did exactly what I was supposed to do.
“If you choose to see it that way I will not stop you,” she said, arms crossed before her. “But this plan would have been enacted with or without you. Albeit, the pieces may have moved a bit differently.”
“That’s what I mean, Belladonna. You set me up. Without me, you wouldn’t have even been there.”
“I saw an opportunity and I took it, $name,” she said, eyes flashing. For a moment, they nearly looked brown. “What else would you have had me do? Cast aside my one chance in the last decade to rid this world of a woman that has committed more harm within your group of friends, than to me alone?”
“Both of you,” Gabriel started. “Now is not the time.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Does this make you the Baron now?”
“Yes,” she said.
I fell back among the pillows, taking a deep breath. Belladonna was a Baron. The Baron of the Mists or whatever she decided she wished her title to be. Glancing towards her ring finger, I saw a signet already upon it. Black woven lace that was hard as iron with a single garnet in the middle, swirling with fog.
“Did you plan this?” I asked.
“I did,” she said without remorse. “I have been for many years. Far longer than I have known you. I hope you will believe me when I say that I was not trying to use you for my own gains. I took an opportunity when I saw it. I had hoped you wouldn’t need to be there.”
[[You should have told me what you were planning]]
[[I know I wasn’t supposed to be a part of your plan. It’s going to take time to come to terms with this]]
[[You nearly got me killed]]Golden eyes had sunk like deep molten pools within the gaunt confines of her graying skin. Her nails and teeth had elongated into something unnatural, and her limbs had snapped into something bowed and far bigger than what she normally presented as. “You became a monster,” I said.
She winced at the word, looking away.
“It’s her true form,” Gabriel said. “One that she does not often use due to what it can incite. But it is who Belladonna is.”
I looked at him with a raised brow. “You knew?”
“I’ve known Belladonna for many years. I knew,” he confirmed. I saw no form of disgust on his face. Only a sharp sense of guarded reserves that I felt came more from me calling her a monster than anything else.
“So does this make you the Baron now?” I asked her.
Shifting in her seat, she regained her composure. The momentary flinch had taken far longer for her to recover from than I had seen before. “Yes. I am.”
I fell back among the pillows, taking a deep breath. Belladonna was a Baron. The Baron of the Mists or whatever she decided she wished her title to be. Glancing towards her ring finger, I saw a signet already upon it. Black woven lace that was hard as iron with a single garnet in the middle, swirling with fog.
“Did you plan this?” I asked.
“I did,” she said without remorse. “I have been for many years. Far longer than I have known you. I hope you will believe me when I say that I was not trying to use you for my own gains. I took an opportunity when I saw it. I had hoped you wouldn’t need to be there.”
[[You should have told me what you were planning]]
[[I know I wasn’t supposed to be a part of your plan. It’s going to take time to come to terms with this]]
[[You nearly got me killed]]“You killed Kavatti,” I said. “You killed the Baron.” One moment, Belladonna had been kneeling at her feet and then the next, boned wings had torn from her back as she tore into the bubbly blonde as if she were nothing but paper.
Belladonna nodded. “Yes.”
“So, does that make you the Baron now?”
Again, she nodded.
I fell back among the pillows, taking a deep breath. Belladonna was a Baron. The Baron of the Mists or whatever she decided she wished her title to be. Glancing towards her ring finger, I saw a signet already upon it. Black woven lace that was hard as iron with a single garnet in the middle, swirling with fog.
“Did you plan this?” I asked.
“I did,” she said without remorse. “I have been for many years. Far longer than I have known you. I hope you will believe me when I say that I was not trying to use you for my own gains. I took an opportunity when I saw it. I had hoped you wouldn’t need to be there.”
[[You should have told me what you were planning]]
[[I know I wasn’t supposed to be a part of your plan. It’s going to take time to come to terms with this]]
[[You nearly got me killed]]Now that the danger had passed, I felt my head ache with everything that had happened. My body was still weak from whatever sickness had shuddered through me before and I didn’t know how much longer I was going to be able to continue at the pace that we were. I knew we were almost done. That the ratio of favors we had received to what we had not was growing wide and I knew I should feel relieved over it.
But I just felt tired. So very very tired.
“You should have told me what you were planning,” I told her. “After everything I have done since coming to the Night Market, you should have trusted me. I would have helped you, Belladonna.”
She looked truly remorseful at that. Because, like with every other situation, Belladonna already knew that. She knew that I would have helped her if she had just asked. That any one of us probably would have. Not because we were trying to deceive the Baron or take their favor, but because Belladonna needed us. It was rare for her to do so and I was almost certain we would have all banded together if she had just been truthful.
“$name,” she began softly. “I was afraid. I didn’t tell anyone because my fear of what would happen was far greater than anything I could have gained. I know Kavatti. Knew, I suppose. The things she would have done if she even thought for a second that someone knew of my plan? You saw her tonight. That was a cat playing with a mouse. She was and perhaps still is, capable of far more. From the moment she betrayed me she was looking for the knife in her back. I didn’t want you to become her pawn and despite how it looks, I was not using you as my pawn either.”
I closed my eyes. There was an aching feeling that was beginning to settle in my bones that the reason I had come to the Night Market was for someone else's purpose entirely. I was beginning to feel that no matter how hard I wished to yell or stomp my foot, the path would keep unraveling and I would keep stepping forward blindly. Until this was over, I didn’t think there was the choice to find myself. Or any semblance of freedom.
“What about the vampires below?” I asked. “I heard fighting.”
“I had planted my own people inside the cathedral for years. When they felt Kavatti’s presence wane, they made sure to take out her supporters.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “And Gabriel? How did you even know to come find us?”
“Belladonna sent word. I am assuming right before you both entered the mists. When I received it, I came running. I am sorry I did not come in time.” I could just imagine how he must have looked upon receiving news of what she was doing. When he had arrived at the cathedral, I was almost positive he had fought his way through, the blood on his coat being enough of an indication. I wondered if he knew what he would be walking into.
“Why did you send for him?” I asked. As far as they had wanted everyone to believe, they neither trusted nor had much care for one another. Yet, the one person Belladonna had breathed a word of this to, was the man she was most likely to be seen snipping at.
“Because I knew if I died, someone would need to get you out,” she said firmly.
“You weren’t even certain of your survival?”
“I was almost sure of it but I cannot account for everything. Turns out Kavatti is just as dumb as she always was, distracted by the simplest of baubles. But yes, I asked Gabriel to help because I knew if I could not protect you, he would. I also knew that if I was not able to contain the Baron power, or if the bloodlust took hold of me as it nearly did, he would put a stop to me.”
“Put a stop to you?”
“Kill me,” she said as if it were nothing. “I will not be a menace on this market. I trust Gabriel to make that decision.”
I turned, looking at Gabriel, mouth agape. He did not seem shocked by her words. “And you would have done it?”
“I knew it to be her wishes,” he said. “And if I felt it needed to be done, I would have been the one to take her life.”
A soft smile pulled at Belladonna’s lips. She did not look at him, but morbidly enough, his declaration of harm to her somehow made her kinder around the eyes. “Ever the celestial. Always keeping your promise.”
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[What actually happened between you two?]]<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>[[What actually happened between you two?]]<</if>>
[[So does this mean the two of you are going to stop bickering?]]
[[I think its time you two put to rest whatever happened between you]]
My heartbeat was slowing. The adrenaline upon waking dissipating with each breath, as if I was finally convincing my body that I was safe. Up in my room at the edge of town, with the Warden and the new Baron. I doubted anything would be coming for me now. There was a small part of me that was thrilled to see that the two of them had stayed until I had awoken. They guarded my safety for the time being and allowed me to rest.
“Look, I understand I was not supposed to be a part of your plan.” If Belladonna had been planning this since the birth of her and Kavatti’s rivalry, I had never been a pawn in her game. But I was still used to her own gains and even though I doubted she truly wanted any harm to come to me, it was going to take time. Time that would only come after I was done reeling from what I had just witnessed. I wanted the sound of Kavatti’s spine snapping to be a distant memory before I made any firm decisions on how I felt about this. “Give me time,” I told her.
“$name,” Gabriel started. “Kavatti was not a good individual. Her death within the market is not one you should mourn and…” He stopped as Belladonna’s hand reached out and rested on his own.
“$name deserves time, Gabriel. And I highly doubt ?their moral quandaries have to do with whether or not Kavatti deserved what was coming to them.”
I thought he would argue. Normally that was how any conversation between them would devolve. But instead, he nodded, staying quiet even when she took her hand away.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to think back. There was still an air of unresolve ghosting across me. “There were dozens of vampires downstairs,” I said. “She said herself that there were guards watching you. I saw them do so from the second we walked in. Why didn’t they come and try and help her?”
“I had planted my own people inside the cathedral for years. When they felt Kavatti’s presence wane, they made sure to take out her supporters.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “And Gabriel? How did you even know to come find us?”
“Belladonna sent word. I am assuming right before you both entered the mists. When I received it, I came running. I am sorry I did not come in time.” I could just imagine how he must have looked upon receiving news of what she was doing. When he had arrived at the cathedral, I was almost positive he had fought his way through, the blood on his coat being enough of an indication. I wondered if he knew what he would be walking into.
“Why did you send for him?” I asked. As far as they had wanted everyone to believe, they neither trusted nor had much care for one another. Yet, the one person Belladonna had breathed a word of this to, was the man she was most likely to be seen snipping at.
“Because I knew if I died, someone would need to get you out,” she said firmly.
“You weren’t even certain of your survival?”
“I was almost sure of it but I cannot account for everything. Turns out Kavatti is just as dumb as she always was, distracted by the simplest of baubles. But yes, I asked Gabriel to help because I knew if I could not protect you, he would. I also knew that if I was not able to contain the Baron power, or if the bloodlust took hold of me as it nearly did, he would put a stop to me.”
“Put a stop to you?”
“Kill me,” she said as if it were nothing. “I will not be a menace on this market. I trust Gabriel to make that decision.”
I turned, looking at Gabriel, mouth agape. He did not seem shocked by her words. “And you would have done it?”
“I knew it to be her wishes,” he said. “And if I felt it needed to be done, I would have been the one to take her life.”
A soft smile pulled at Belladonna’s lips. She did not look at him, but morbidly enough, his declaration of harm to her somehow made her kinder around the eyes. “Ever the celestial. Always keeping your promise.”
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[What actually happened between you two?]]<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>[[What actually happened between you two?]]<</if>>
[[So does this mean the two of you are going to stop bickering?]]
[[I think its time you two put to rest whatever happened between you]]
“But you did use me for your own gains,” I protested. “You nearly got me killed!”
“$name, I made sure to protect you in every way I could in that den. There was not a moment where your safety was not of my concern. You think I would have played Kavatti’s game as long as I did if I wasn’t trying to keep you safe?” She had bit her tongue. Been uncharacteristically demure. It had felt odd to see but I realized now that she was balancing two acts. Keeping Kavatti amused, and taking enough of the focus off of me to keep me out of Kavatti’s interest.
It didn’t negate the fear though. I didn’t take away the horror of what I had seen or the danger she had put me in. “I don’t care, Belladonna. I don’t care. You could have gotten me killed. I could have died in there and–” I took in deep lung fills of air. “Why didn’t you just tell me what you had planned?” I asked, feeling my chest ache.
She looked away. “Because it was my problem. My moment of revenge.”
“And you didn’t want me ruining it?”
At that, she did turn to me. Before, I had always struggled to imagine what Belladonna would be like as a human. A girl once, traveling within the market. The mask that shattered like glass, leaving behind the aching knot of vulnerability, was the first time I could see who was hidden beneath the creature she had been forced to become.
“I didn’t want you caught in the crossfire. I did not breathe a word of what I was doing to anyone. For years, $name. Not for fear that they would sell me out but because I knew what Kavatti would do to anyone she thought would have information on what I was planning. She was waiting for me to make a move. From the moment she betrayed me she was looking for the knife in her back. I didn’t want you to become her pawn and despite how it looks, I was not using you as my pawn either.”
“No. You just used me to get to her.”
Belladonna looked at me levelly. “I did,” she said. “I won’t try to justify that action. I saw a way to get to Kavatti after all this time and I took it.”
<<if $bellamonster == "bad">> I didn’t know if I could forgive her for that. The blood and the death was one thing, but being used, being put in that place of terror, I didn’t know if I could look at Belladonna the same way ever again. <<elseif “bellamonster == "okay">> The thing was, I had been honest with her. I really was okay. Shaken. In a touch of shock. But Belladonna hadn’t let anything touch me. She had kept me from harm as best she could. I didn’t think I could fault her for that.<</if>>
Next to her, Gabriel sighed. “Kavatti did a number of terrible things. The death of Malcolm Albright was one. Betraying Belladonna was another. The attempt to open gates to let her people come through and feed is perhaps higher on that list. Along with the countless who she coaxed into the mists to drain in order to keep her youth.”
“Kavatti was sick,” Belladonna said. “The blood in the goblet was hers. A paltry attempt to control me. I could taste the disease. She had to drain dozens weekly simply to keep the sickness at bay. So, $name, I am sorry for putting you in danger. And I can swear to you that for as long as I live, I will never put you personally in danger again. But Kavatti needed to die.”
I was reeling. Not sure what to say. Knowing I was reacting out of fear and my own mortality more than any remorse over the lives that had been lost.
“What about the vampires below?” I asked. “I heard fighting.”
“I had planted my own people inside the cathedral for years. When they felt Kavatti’s presence wane, they made sure to take out her supporters.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “And Gabriel? How did you even know to come find us?”
“Belladonna sent word. I am assuming right before you both entered the mists. When I received it, I came running. I am sorry I did not come in time.” I could just imagine how he must have looked upon receiving news of what she was doing. When he had arrived at the cathedral, I was almost positive he had fought his way through, the blood on his coat being enough of an indication. I wondered if he knew what he would be walking into.
“Why did you send for him?” I asked. As far as they had wanted everyone to believe, they neither trusted nor had much care for one another. Yet, the one person Belladonna had breathed a word of this to, was the man she was most likely to be seen snipping at.
“Because I knew if I died, someone would need to get you out,” she said firmly.
“You weren’t even certain of your survival?”
“I was almost sure of it but I cannot account for everything. Turns out Kavatti is just as dumb as she always was, distracted by the simplest of baubles. But yes, I asked Gabriel to help because I knew if I could not protect you, he would. I also knew that if I was not able to contain the Baron power, or if the bloodlust took hold of me as it nearly did, he would put a stop to me.”
“Put a stop to you?”
“Kill me,” she said as if it were nothing. “I will not be a menace on this market. I trust Gabriel to make that decision.”
I turned, looking at Gabriel, mouth agape. He did not seem shocked by her words. “And you would have done it?”
“I knew it to be her wishes,” he said. “And if I felt it needed to be done, I would have been the one to take her life.”
A soft smile pulled at Belladonna’s lips. She did not look at him, but morbidly enough, his declaration of harm to her somehow made her kinder around the eyes. “Ever the celestial. Always keeping your promise.”
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[What actually happened between you two?]]<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>[[What actually happened between you two?]]<</if>>
[[So does this mean the two of you are going to stop bickering?]]
[[I think its time you two put to rest whatever happened between you]]
Belladonna and Gabriel had always been an interesting idea in my mind. From the day Belladonna had entered the shop and Gabriel had looked at her, the heated flame of past hurts burned between them like a wildfire. It tore at every little word they put forward and as opposed to either of them trying to curb whatever impulse they had when it came to the two of them, they let everyone around them get caught up in the fury.
But tonight, on arguably the most important night in Belladonna’s life, she had turned to him for help. And he had come to her aid without question.
“What really happened between you two?” I asked. Both of their eyes widened, just a little, not having expected the question. “After tonight and everything I just saw, I think I deserve to know.” At least the highlights. I just wanted something to help me understand the two of them a bit better.
I was almost certain that neither of them would answer me. Gabriel usually responded to questions like this with a sense of stoic anger while Belladonna made a flippant remark or gave me a crumb of cryptic information. Sitting before me now, I realized they too were tired. They did not come out of the evening unscathed.
Belladonna looked at Gabriel cautiously for a moment, a seed of uncertainty there before she sighed irritably, apparently coming to the same conclusion I had a while ago. This secrecy was unwarranted.
“We met when we were young,” she started, crossing one leg over the other. “The details of that meeting and the events that actually made us friends are not ones that I can divulge due to some information that the two of us have been sworn to secrecy over. But, let it be known, we were friends at the time. Though, I do not believe Gabriel knew what friendship was.”
Gabriel’s mask broke at that, his arms coming uncrossed as he rolled his eyes. “I was not that naive,” he corrected her.
“You were very close to it. Either way, we had grown close. And when I made the decision to become a courtesan, Gabriel was less than thrilled with what that would entail. But, knowing that he had no control over my life, he decided that he would be there for the worst of that career and offer protection. He became my bodyguard at that point and served me for years.”
I shuddered at the thought of Belladonna not being the person she was now. At what she maybe had to endure when she first started out. If Gabriel had been her source of protection against the worst of it, there was little doubt in my mind that they would have formed some kind of bond.
“Were you two together?” I asked.
“No,” Gabriel said.
Belladonna shook her head. “Not officially.”
“Never, Belladonna.”
“There was that one time…” His look was sharp and she let her words die. “We were close,” she confirmed. “Were there feelings? Yes. Did we act upon them? Not entirely. There was a period of time, however, where our actions made it look as if we were together, yet, I believe we were simply two people that had formed a bond that was hard to untangle. Despite entertaining the idea of it once or twice, we never took our relationship to that next step.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Yes, Belladonna, why?” Gabriel looked at her sternly.
She could have looked uncertain. She could have become uncomfortable with the spotlight on her, with the ugliness of her past coming to light, but instead, she looked more calm than I had seen her. This was one decision she was apparently firm with in her life.
Turning, she looked at him. “You were not living your life,” she told him simply. “You were living mine. And for a time, I greatly appreciated it because I did need help. I needed someone to watch my back. But after a while, you were using me as a crutch.”
“I was doing my job,” he growled.
“No, Gabriel, you were doing //a// job. One that did not need to be done anymore. You were past the point of madness. You had the opportunity to go do good in the world. The kind of good we talked about. Yet, you were staying by my side, standing outside my door as I fucked others. It was killing you.”
Realization struck me then. Remembering things Gabriel had said, the topic of some of their past arguments. “So you fired him.”
She turned back to me, settling back in her seat, unaware of how she had leaned in. Her eyes were molten and dancing with unresolved anger. “I did.”
At that, Gabriel laughed low. “You did far more than just fire me. Go ahead, Bells, tell ?them. You want to spin this story to your advantage, why don’t you spin away what you set up? How you asked me to come to dinner and had me walk in on you fucking another. I stood there like a simpleton, thinking that this was our chance and you…”
“I didn’t know what else to do!” she shouted.
The room stilled, the two of them panting in anger. Their bodies had turned to each other, knees nearly touching. For the first time in years the words were being said out loud and they were opening angry and festering wounds.
“I had spoken to you as a friend. I had spoken to you as someone who cared. And you would not leave. It wasn’t the first time I had fired you either, Gabriel. I wanted you to go out and actually live your life instead of trading service to the Knowing with service to me. But you are a stubborn ass of a man and there was no getting through to you.”
“So you decided to toy with my feelings instead?”
“I was young and I was scared and I wanted you to just do something with your life. I know it wasn’t right. I knew the second you walked in that it wasn’t right. But what was I supposed to do after that?”
“Apologize. Explain things to me.”
Her tone turned dark. “I did. I sent you letters for the first year. I tried speaking to you. Your words were to never darken my presence again, whore. Remember that?”
I stared at the two of them. Their eyes shining in the dim light of the room, their cheeks heated with expression. I could see the way Gabriel’s spine had gone stiff and how Belladonna’s fingers curled along the bottom of the chair. Everything was out, barren between them. All pretences of who they were had dropped and for the first time I could almost imagine them to be the simple creatures they had been when they first came to this market. I almost wished I could have known them both then.
“Okay,” I started softly. It was in response to a lack of what to say.
[[Nothing I say is going to make this right. It is up to you two to do that]]
[[It is obvious you two still care for each other]]
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[I care for both of you, so I’m going to make a suggestion (poly route)]]
<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>[[I care for both of you, so I’m going to make a suggestion (poly route)]]<</if>>
“Does this mean the two of you will stop bickering now?” It was the only form of communication I thought they even knew how to have with each other. It almost felt like it might be odd if they did. Though, I was certain anyone that had been around them would be thankful.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Belladonna said airly. “I rather like riling him up.”
Dead silence consumed my small room as a muscle in Gabriel’s jaw twitched. It was clear that Belladonna was joking but there was something more in Gabriel’s eyes.
“Are you going to shove past what happened today?” he finally snapped.
She stared at him evenly. “No.”
“It seems like you are. And if that is who you wish to be then I regret helping you today.”
Pushing to the edge of her seat, she turned so her knees nearly touched his. Her hands sat clasped in her lap, still and silent. They were bruised from earlier. Dark splotches blooming across the backs of her fingers.
“Thank you,” she told him earnestly. “Not just for today. But for every day you have ever protected me.”
I watched as his shoulders fell and the anger that had been ready to lash out at her, recoil at the softness of her words. “I do not go back on my promises,” he said.
She nodded, turning away. “I’m sorry I did.”
I looked between the two of them. Gabriel still sitting straight back and eyes forward, Belladonna hunched forward and eyes cast away, guilty over something. When he reached out and squeezed her hand, I watched as she squeezed back. It was over just as quickly as it came but that one little action disintegrated something within the room. A harshness that constantly brewed between them. I hoped going forward, things would be different.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> I brought my eyes up to meet Gabriel's, trying my hardest to convey that I wasn’t mad at him. That I was more fed up than anything else. That I simply wanted us to be a united front. That I cared for him more than anything but our relationship was starting to take hits because he was not resolving his own pain. When his eyes met with mine, he nodded his head once in understanding. <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> “$name, that does not mean that I will be putting off any further conversation about our relationship, however. I do need you to know that.”
I blinked at her, dumbfounded. The relationship she refused to acknowledge. The one she adamantly was against. The self-satisfied grin that she had on her face made me weak and livid pissed all at the same time. For this reason alone, I chose not to answer.<</if>> \
I sunk back into the pillows with ease, feeling something in my chest loosen. The day had been long and horrid once more. A new norm that was making me dread leaving the shop. I suddenly understood why Hazel stayed home as often as she did.
//Hazel//
My eyes went wide at the thought of her as I scrambled out of bed, hissing in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel close]]
“Okay, I don’t know if it’s because I have nearly died. Again. Or if it’s because I just listened to a bunch of vampires scream, which is entirely not a sound I ever thought I would hear, but I do know this. You two need to get your shit together.”
They looked at me startled. Apparently, the longer I stayed in the market, the more lines I was subconsciously drawing. From the moment I had arrived they put upon me responsibility that I had taken but should have never been mine. Meanwhile, they ignored their own problems in favor on focusing on guiding me. Helping me. Helping the market. But all of that was an excuse to stay away from the hideous shit they were all personally facing and I no longer wanted to be a part of that.
“For the entire time I’ve known you two, you have bickered. You have fought. You have insulted one another and stabbed each other with petty little jabs over something that happened years ago. A something, I might add, neither of you talk about but you sure as hell make it everyone else's problem. So, while I’m on a roll of making life altering decisions, I’m looking at the two of you and telling you right now, do better. Deal with your shit. You’re stronger together than you are apart and I don’t care if that looks like business partners, friends, lovers, are whatever else you want to identify as. You both make the rest of us uncomfortable and after what I witnessed today, I’m no longer entertaining it.”
Gabriel looked as if he was at a loss for words, but Belladonna looked entirely too intrigued over my words. As if everything I had just said lit her with a fire that she had desperately been wishing to find once more.
“You hear that, Gabriel? We were making people uncomfortable. We should really stop that.”
I waited. I waited for the petty words to be flung back at her. For someone, this to dissolve into an argument or a session of bickering. But instead, Gabriel blinked, as if waking from a dream.
“We should,” he said softly. The surprise that briefly flickered across Belladonna’s face was one that made Gabriel’s own lips twitch in response. As if he had just bested her. I didn’t know if anything would come from my words but it was a start. It was the start that we maybe all needed. A new beginning since the ones we all had seemed muddied in the inner workings of a dying world.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> I brought my eyes up to meet Gabriel's, trying my hardest to convey that I wasn’t mad at him. That I was more fed up than anything else. That I simply wanted us to be a united front. That I cared for him more than anything but our relationship was starting to take hits because he was not resolving his own pain. When his eyes met with mine, he nodded his head once in understanding. <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> “$name, that does not mean that I will be putting off any further conversation about our relationship, however. I do need you to know that.”
I blinked at her, dumbfounded. The relationship she refused to acknowledge. The one she adamantly was against. The self-satisfied grin that she had on her face made me weak and livid pissed all at the same time. For this reason alone, I chose not to answer.<</if>>
I sunk back into the pillows with ease, feeling something in my chest loosen. The day had been long and horrid once more. A new norm that was making me dread leaving the shop. I suddenly understood why Hazel stayed home as often as she did.
//Hazel//
My eyes went wide at the thought of her as I scrambled out of bed, hissing in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel close]]
I sighed tiredly. Belladonna and Gabriel were a force on their own but together, they were tiring. I knew it didn’t have to be this way, however.
“Nothing I say is going to make this right. The hurts you two share I’m sure are more than what you have just told me. I’m not asking you to tell me more. But what I am asking, is that you two figure out a way to work together again. Because tonight, you did well.” There was very little doubt in my mind that when the events of the evening were examined from an outside perspective, the story would be far less gruesome. A spin would be put upon it all in Belladonna’s favor and the Velvet Guard will have said they handled the situation and support the current Baron. In the end, if Gabriel and Belladonna could get past their own pain, they would be a force that was nearly unstoppable within the Night Market.
“I don’t think our past has anything to do with our working relationship,” Gabriel said.
Belladonna laughed before I even could. “You don’t? You really think that?”
“I do.”
“Is that because you are delusional or because you have avoided having a working relationship with me?”
“Ms. Malady, may I remind you…”
“Stop,” I said from the position on the bed. “If you two need to do this, then go do this somewhere else. Just figure it out, okay?”
I heard their words fall short. It was with a growing amount of pride that I realized they both had listened to me. I didn’t think they had done that before.
I sunk back into the pillows with ease, feeling something in my chest loosen. The day had been long and horrid once more. A new norm that was making me dread leaving the shop. I suddenly understood why Hazel stayed home as often as she did.
//Hazel//
My eyes went wide at the thought of her as I scrambled out of bed, hissing in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel close]]
“It is obvious you two still care for each other,” I said after a moment. I didn’t know what that care looked like exactly. Just that it was there. Gabriel had come to her without question and despite Belladonna claiming that she had wanted to go into this alone, she didn’t hesitate to call him in during the final moments, to complete what she possibly could not. It was no easy feat to entrust that someone would end it if you got out of control. To put that responsibility in someone else's hands. And yet, Belladonna had done it almost effortlessly. It didn’t go unnoticed either that Gabriel had come alone. There were no members of the Velvet Guard who had followed him. He was not acting as the Warden of the market at the time, but as a man instead. One who knew someone he had once cared for, was in trouble.
“It’s complicated, $name,” Gabriel said. It was clear he wished to leave it at only that. That whatever else was to come would not be pressed from him at this moment in time. Belladonna had rarely been one to leave things be, however.
“It doesn’t have to be,” she said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Are you just suggesting we forgive and forget?” I had never heard Gabriel’s tone mocking until that moment. The bitterness that laced his words were like a whip. But Belladonna did not flinch.
“Yes,” she said truthfully.
There was no answer Gabriel could give to that as he kept his head turned away. I could see it though. The worry that had been there when he had walked into the room. It spoke volumes of what they once were to each other and I knew it went far deeper than a relationship that was had and then lost at some point in time. Assuming that was what had even happened between them. Looking at them now, I wasn’t sure I actually knew. I had a feeling it wasn’t so cut and dry.
“We will talk later,” he finally said, feeling uncomfortable with the eyes that were still placed upon him. “Now is not the time.”
Belladonna gave a resolute nod. “Agreed. $name, you need to rest, sweetling. Whatever conversation Gabriel and I need to have we can have at a later date. Besides, with me as a Baron now, the Warden is going to be forced to deal with me at the monthly meetings.”
The pained look that came across his face was done with a severe flinch. The reality of tonight had not set in yet.
I sunk back into the pillows with ease, feeling something in my chest loosen. The day had been long and horrid once more. A new norm that was making me dread leaving the shop. I suddenly understood why Hazel stayed home as often as she did.
//Hazel//
My eyes went wide at the thought of her as I scrambled out of bed, hissing in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel close]]
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> I had not been with Gabriel long and so far, there had never been quite the right time to advance our relationship. It was difficult to when the world was ending. Half the time I was more concerned with whether he would even eat. And while I had chosen him, I could not deny that there was an attraction to Belladonna. That she compelled me in a way that was hard to ignore. Sitting here now, it was clear there was still something between the two of them. The opportunity for it to be kindled was present or we could simply let it fade away. But, for reasons I wasn’t sure why, I wanted to see where this would go. I wanted to see what lay beneath the two of them and what was hiding beneath the theatrics they had conducted with one another. <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> Despite me making my intentions with Belladonna clear, the woman had tried to fight me off with ever bit that she had. Now, I suspected it was because of this. Because of Kavatti and what she had planned. There was an opportunity now to go forward with her with quite a bit more truth between us. I didn’t doubt her when she said she would not put me in this position again. I had simply stumbling into the midst of her plan.
But then there was Gabriel. I wasn’t going to lie. I found him intriguing. He was power in a different way than Belladonna and was a force against the oncoming storm that I wanted to continue to gaze upon. I wanted to know what the two of them were like together. I wanted to see what they could ignite when joined and I wanted to be there with them when it happened.<</if>>
“I am going to make a suggestion,” I started. “Or, maybe it’s more of a proclamation. I care for both of you. I think you both also care for each other. I’m not saying now is the time or place or that we even need to go into detail about it but it’s out there.”
Gabriel frowned. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
Belladonna laughed. “Sex, Gabriel. All of us in one big sweaty pile of pleasure.”
[[That is a benefit to it, yes]]
[[Not just sex]]
[[Thank you for being blunt, Bella]]
<<set $gbpoly to "true">>That wasn’t quite what I was referencing but the image of being twined within both their long limbs, Gabriel moving inside me, Belladonna holding on to me, the three of us moaning in pleasure…
I cleared my throat. “That is a benefit to it all, yes, but I was kind of insinuating something a bit more.
Belladonna raised a brow. “Are you actually suggesting that we all start… dating.” She wrinkled her nose at the word, as if it disgusted her. I didn’t let it intimidate me though.
“I’m not suggesting anything. Just stating my feelings. Letting everyone in on what is going on in my life.”
She smirked at me. “Touche.”
Dead silence consumed my small room as a muscle in Gabriel’s jaw twitched. It was clear that Belladonna was joking but there was something more in Gabriel’s eyes.
“Are you going to shove past what happened today?” he finally snapped.
She stared at him evenly. “No.”
“It seems like you are. And if that is who you wish to be then I regret helping you today.”
Pushing to the edge of her seat, she turned so her knees nearly touched his. Her hands sat clasped in her lap, still and silent. They were bruised from earlier. Dark splotches blooming across the backs of her fingers.
“Thank you,” she told him earnestly. “Not just for today. But for every day you have ever protected me.”
I watched as his shoulders fell and the anger that had been ready to lash out at her, recoil at the softness of her words. “I do not go back on my promises,” he said.
She nodded, turning away. “I’m sorry I did.”
I looked between the two of them. Gabriel still sitting straight back and eyes forward, Belladonna hunched forward and eyes cast away, guilty over something. When he reached out and squeezed her hand, I watched as she squeezed back. It was over just as quickly as it came but that one little action disintegrated something within the room. A harshness that constantly brewed between them. I hoped going forward, things would be different.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> I brought my eyes up meet Gabriel's, trying my hardest to convey that I wasn’t mad at him. That I was more fed up than anything else. That I simply wanted us to be a united front. That I cared for him more than anything but our relationship was starting to take hits because he was not resolving his own pain. When his eyes met with mine, he nodded his head once in understanding. <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> “$name, that does not mean that I will be putting off any further conversation about our relationship, however. I do need you to know that.”
I blinked at her, dumbfounded. The relationship she refused to acknowledge. The one she adamantly was against. The self-satisfied grin that she had on her face made me weak and livid pissed all at the same time. For this reason alone, I chose not to answer.<</if>>
I sunk back into the pillows with ease, feeling something in my chest loosen. The day had been long and horrid once more. A new norm that was making me dread leaving the shop. I suddenly understood why Hazel stayed home as often as she did.
//Hazel//
My eyes went wide at the thought of her as I scrambled out of bed, hissing in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel close]]
I rolled my eyes. “Not just sex.” Though I was of course not going to disregard the very pretty image she had just painted. “I want more than that. What that more means? I don’t know. And maybe it won’t even work. Maybe I’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“You lost no blood,” Belladonna interrupted. “I made sure of it.”
“You were well protected in that situation, $name. Did we miss something? Did someone harm you?”
I blinked between the two of them. “No. What? No. Listen, I…” I sighed.
“That little shit Parker is still alive,” Belladonna said. “I wouldn’t put it past him to come after $name.”
“I’ll arrest him in the morning.”
“Okay, can the both of you just calm it down on the arresting and murdering people?” I asked. They both looked back at me startled, as if they had forgotten that I was awake. I now wondered what their conversations had consisted of before I had awoken.
“I’m not saying we have this discussion now,” I started. “And maybe it’s not a discussion to be had. But I want it out on the table. For now, at least.”
Belladonna raised a brow. “Are you actually suggesting that we all start… dating.” She wrinkled her nose at the word, as if it disgusted her. I didn’t let it intimidate me though.
“I’m not suggesting anything. Just putting out there my feelings. Letting everyone in on what is going on in my life.”
She smirked at me. “Touche.”
Dead silence consumed my small room as a muscle in Gabriel’s jaw twitched. It was clear that Belladonna was joking but there was something more in Gabriel’s eyes.
“Are you going to shove past what happened today?” he finally snapped.
She stared at him evenly. “No.”
“It seems like you are. And if that is who you wish to be then I regret helping you today.”
Pushing to the edge of her seat, she turned so her knees nearly touched his. Her hands sat clasped in her lap, still and silent. They were bruised from earlier. Dark splotches blooming across the backs of her fingers.
“Thank you,” she told him earnestly. “Not just for today. But for every day you have ever protected me.”
I watched as his shoulders fell and the anger that had been ready to lash out at her, recoil at the softness of her words. “I do not go back on my promises,” he said.
She nodded, turning away. “I’m sorry I did.”
I looked between the two of them. Gabriel still sitting straight back and eyes forward, Belladonna hunched forward and eyes cast away, guilty over something. When he reached out and squeezed her hand, I watched as she squeezed back. It was over just as quickly as it came but that one little action disintegrated something within the room. A harshness that constantly brewed between them. I hoped going forward, things would be different.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> I brought my eyes up to him, trying my hardest to convey that I wasn’t mad at him. That I was more fed up than anything else. That I simply wanted us to be a united front. That I cared for him more than anything but our relationship was starting to take hits because he was not resolving his own pain. When his eyes met with mine, he nodded his head once in understanding. <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> “$name, that does not mean that I will be putting off any further conversation about our relationship, however. I do need you to know that.”
I blinked at her, dumbfounded. The relationship she refused to acknowledge. The one she adamantly was against. The self-satisfied grin that she had on her face made me weak and livid pissed all at the same time. For this reason alone, I chose not to answer.<</if>>
I sunk back into the pillows with ease, feeling something in my chest loosen. The day had been long and horrid once more. A new norm that was making me dread leaving the shop. I suddenly understood why Hazel stayed home as often as she did.
//Hazel//
My eyes went wide at the thought of her as I scrambled out of bed, hissing in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel close]]
“Thank you, Belladonna. You have a way with words,” I said dryly.
“Happy to help.”
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> I turned to Gabriel, gauging his reaction. Like usual, his face was stony but it seemed more frozen in expression this time than hiding behind a bravado. I should have maybe brought this up to him before but it hadn't hit me really. Not until I watched the two of them and how they spoke of one another. I don’t even know if I would have had the courage to say anything before tonight. “Gabriel? Do you have anything to say?”
He blinked, bringing his gaze back to mine. “You have given me something to think about, $name,” he said softly. “There has been much in the recent days that I will need to be thinking on.” <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> I stared at her, waiting for more from her. She had known what my intentions were with her for a while.<</if>><<if $belladonnasex == "true">> Belladonna had held me only a few nights before, her lips sucking across my fluttering pulse as she encouraged me to spread my legs and bare myself to her.<</if>><<if $belladonnaro == "true">> In the scope of it all, however, I didn’t actually know what Belladonna wanted. Or if she did even want me. Her actions hinted towards more, but her words were the exact opposite. It was clear we needed to have a deeper conversation. Perhaps after we had dealt with the fact that she just murdered someone and became a Baron.<</if>>
“I’m not saying we have this discussion now,” I started. “And maybe it’s not a discussion to be had. But I want it out on the table. For now, at least.”
Belladonna raised a brow. “Are you actually suggesting that we all start… dating.” She wrinkled her nose at the word, as if it disgusted her. I didn’t let it intimidate me though.
“I’m not suggesting anything. Just putting out there my feelings. Letting everyone in on what is going on in my life.”
She smirked at me. “Touche.”
Dead silence consumed my small room as a muscle in Gabriel’s jaw twitched. It was clear that Belladonna was joking but there was something more in Gabriel’s eyes.
“Are you going to shove past what happened today?” he finally snapped.
She stared at him evenly. “No.”
“It seems like you are. And if that is who you wish to be then I regret helping you today.”
Pushing to the edge of her seat, she turned so her knees nearly touched his. Her hands sat clasped in her lap, still and silent. They were bruised from earlier. Dark splotches blooming across the backs of her fingers.
“Thank you,” she told him earnestly. “Not just for today. But for every day you have ever protected me.”
I watched as his shoulders fell and the anger that had been ready to lash out at her, recoil at the softness of her words. “I do not go back on my promises,” he said.
She nodded, turning away. “I’m sorry I did.”
I looked between the two of them. Gabriel still sitting straight back and eyes forward, Belladonna hunched forward and eyes cast away, guilty over something. When he reached out and squeezed her hand, I watched as she squeezed back. It was over just as quickly as it came but that one little action disintegrated something within the room. A harshness that constantly brewed between them. I hoped going forward, things would be different.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> I brought my eyes up to him, trying my hardest to convey that I wasn’t mad at him. That I was more fed up than anything else. That I simply wanted us to be a united front. That I cared for him more than anything but our relationship was starting to take hits because he was not resolving his own pain. When his eyes met with mine, he nodded his head once in understanding. <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> “$name, that does not mean that I will be putting off any further conversation about our relationship, however. I do need you to know that.”
I blinked at her, dumbfounded. The relationship she refused to acknowledge. The one she adamantly was against. The self-satisfied grin that she had on her face made me weak and livid pissed all at the same time. For this reason alone, I chose not to answer.<</if>>
I sunk back into the pillows with ease, feeling something in my chest loosen. The day had been long and horrid once more. A new norm that was making me dread leaving the shop. I suddenly understood why Hazel stayed home as often as she did.
//Hazel//
My eyes went wide at the thought of her as I scrambled out of bed, hissing in pain.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel close]]
Scrambling out of bed I felt the world tilt as my legs got caught in the sheets. I righted myself, feeling my heart slam against my chest. “What time is it?”
Both Belladonna and Gabriel looked at me in confusion, rising from their own seats in alarm. “A little past the turn of the day,” Gabriel said.
The spell. The one that we were supposed to be here for. I must have been passed out for most of the day and I didn’t even know how long it took to get me back here or to clean up whatever mess we had left behind at the cathedral. Or even if it was being cleaned up. I didn’t care though. “Did you see her?” I asked. “When you came in, did you see Hazel?”
Belladonna shook her head. “We took the back entrance. You were bloody and so was I. We didn’t think it prudent to storm through her lobby.” I felt my stomach drop at that. Hazel had barriers all around the lobby. Any number of things could have been happening while we spoke and none of us, not even Belladonna, would have heard it.
I took the stairs two by two before bursting into the apothecary below.
Candles littered each surface, black-orange flames flickering around the shop and casting the room in a deep moaning glow. Sigils were drawn in swirling patters across the walls and floor, glowing wetly with the remnants of blood. I could see the dead eyes of the spirits peeking from behind the blown out glass of the stained windows around us. Barbed willows wove in and out of the doors, across broken surfaces and through the cracks in the floorboards before all culminating to the middle of the floor. The branches formed a circle, softly pulsing with life, crimson pooling beneath them. And in the center of it all, was Hazel.
She was kneeling, arms stretched to either side, painted with bloody runes that were carved into her skin. Her body was bent forward, looking odd and mishappen as the willow crept around her, wrapping around her limbs in a tight embrace.
“Hazel,” I breathed. She was crying, weeping despondently into her hands as her own life dripped to the floor beneath her. Upon hearing my voice, her head snapped up, those soft eyes that I had come to know wild with panic.
“Stay back!” she yelled.
I skidded to a stop. The cuts were deep. Even from where I stood, shrouded in the dark, I could see that they were not superficial. Behind me, Belladonna and Gabriel came downstairs, standing silently in the doorway.
Hazel looked at them, looked at me, a vibration of guilt and terror beginning to sweep across her. Her body shook as she looked wildly around, the apothecary itself creaking as the branches upon the floor continued to grow, feeding from her blood.
“It didn’t work,” she said brokenly, her gaze settling on my own. “Why didn’t it work?”
“What didn’t work?” I asked. I kept my hands where she could see them and tried not to make any sudden movements.
“The spell,” she cried. “I did everything. It should have worked.”
“Hazel,” it was Belladonna, her voice soothing and low. Her eyes glowed bright, tinged with red as she scented the blood in the air. “What all did you do?”
Hazel’s mouth opened and closed as she searched for an explanation. Outside, the dead continued to press forward, evoking the walls of the shop to creak with their demands. “I sacrificed them,” she said with wide eyes.
“Who?” Gabriel asked, on high alert, hand on his sword. He must have grabbed it before we had left the room. “Who did you sacrifice, Ms. Albright?”
“The spirits,” I whispered in realization. They were standing outside, staring in with empty and fathomless eyes.
“I shredded their essence for him,” she began numbly. “I bled. I gave the willow tree my blood and used all the herbs that my mother had. I did everything. It should have worked. The gate should have opened.” She looked at me. “Why can’t I save him?”
[[Maybe he doesn’t want to be saved]]
[[It’s okay. We will try again]]
[[Say nothing and just go to her]]My heart broke. Falling forward, Hazel began to cry into her hands, weeping as the world around her began to crumble. The apothecary was decaying, as if it were dying with each sluggish bit of blood that her heart pumped from her.
Walking forward, I didn’t hesitate. I crossed the willow circle, consequences be damned and took her in my arms. She turned to me, sobbing into my chest.
“Hazel,” I told her, keeping my voice low and near her ear. “Maybe he doesn’t want to be saved.” We had been assuming for so long that Malcolm would want to return, but maybe Milo had been right. Maybe he had moved on and what we were doing was a disservice to him. <<if $miloro == "true">> My eyes cast around the room, searching him out. Hoping to see him in the shadows. But it was with a sinking sensation that I knew he was not even here tonight.<</if>>
“No,” she said. “He knew what we were going to do. He knew we were going to try and get him back,” she protested.
“Ten years is a long time, Hazel,” I told her softly. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Gently, I ran my hands across her back, holding her close to me and feeling the unsteady beat of her heart as her blood stained my clothes.<</if>>
“He’s gone,” she cried. “He’s actually gone. I promised him, $name. I promised that I would get him back and I couldn’t do it. What am I doing wrong? Why did I fail him?”
Gently, I hushed her. Falling back on my hunches, I took her with me, listening to her grieve for the first time in ten years. My heart broke in response. Mostly, I had always believed Hazel when she said she would get him back. Now, I felt that belief being torn apart.
Malcolm Albright was gone. And he was never returning.
Rocking her, I tried to comfort her as best I could, feeling her blood slick fingers scramble against me as she cried for the brother she never got to say goodbye to. The one she had tried so hard through the years to regain. To save. But it was never enough. Death was a fickle creature and only loosened its claws when it saw fit.
I hoped he was at rest. Wherever this illusive man was, I hope he was resting peacefully. Maybe he had been called home to a different world. A different time or reality. Maybe he was finally getting to live a life free of pain. I hoped that even if he had fallen into a deep sleep beneath the ocean, he was at peace.
“$name,” Belladonna whispered.
I lifted my head, looking at her but she was not staring back at me. Neither was Gabriel. The two of them were looking beyond towards the apothecary counter. Turning, I felt my breath escape me.
The faint outline of a door was forming. Something green and crackling blue as a willow tree grew up into an arch, cracking against the counter. The faint glow from within grew stronger and stronger and as I looked down, I watched as Hazel’s blood traveled across a branch towards it, tinged with the amber lights of what looked like lantern light.
Numbly, I turned Hazel towards the forming gate, not able to force the words past my own throat. I watched her confusion play across her face before she locked eyes with the forming door, her lips parting as she waited. As we all waited.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel end 2]]
My heart broke. Falling forward, Hazel began to cry into her hands, weeping as the world around her began to crumble. The apothecary was decaying, as if it were dying with each sluggish bit of blood that her heart pumped from her.
Walking forward, I didn’t hesitate. I crossed the willow circle, consequences be damned and took her in my arms. She turned to me, sobbing into my chest.
“It’s okay,” I soothed. “It’s going to be okay. We will just try again, okay? I’ll help you this time. I’ll…”
“There is no again,” she said, angrily pushing against me. Her actions were weak, however, barely giving enough pressure to her own discontent. “This was everything. This was…” she trailed off, words choking in her throat. <<if $hazelro == "true">> I felt my own throat tighten with emotion, my breaths coming out in short little bursts as I tried to keep a hold of myself. For her.<</if>>
“He’s gone,” she cried. “He’s actually gone. I promised him, $name. I promised that I would get him back and I couldn’t do it. What am I doing wrong? Why did I fail him?”
Gently, I hushed her. Falling back on my hunches, I took her with me, listening to her grieve for the first time in ten years. My heart broke in response. Mostly, I had always believed Hazel when she said she would get him back. Now, I felt that belief being torn apart.
Malcolm Albright was gone. And he was never returning.
Rocking her, I tried to comfort her as best I could, feeling her blood slick fingers scramble against me as she cried for the brother she never got to say goodbye to. The one she had tried so hard through the years to regain. To save. But it was never enough. Death was a fickle creature and only loosened its claws when it saw fit.
I hoped he was at rest. Wherever this illusive man was, I hope he was resting peacefully. Maybe he had been called home to a different world. A different time or reality. Maybe he was finally getting to live a life free of pain. I hoped that even if he had fallen into a deep sleep beneath the ocean, he was at peace.
“$name,” Belladonna whispered.
I lifted my head, looking at her but she was not staring back at me. Neither was Gabriel. The two of them were looking beyond towards the apothecary counter. Turning, I felt my breath escape me.
The faint outline of a door was forming. Something green and crackling blue as a willow tree grew up into an arch, cracking against the counter. The faint glow from within grew stronger and stronger and as I looked down, I watched as Hazel’s blood traveled across a branch towards it, tinged with the amber lights of what looked like lantern light.
Numbly, I turned Hazel towards the forming gate, not able to force the words past my own throat. I watched her confusion play across her face before she locked eyes with the forming door, her lips parting as she waited. As we all waited.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel end 2]]
My heart broke. Falling forward, Hazel began to cry into her hands, weeping as the world around her began to crumble. The apothecary was decaying, as if it were dying with each sluggish bit of blood that her heart pumped from her.
Walking forward, I didn’t hesitate. I crossed the willow circle, consequences be damned and took her in my arms. She turned to me, sobbing into my chest. <<if $hazelro == "true">> I ran my hands up and down her back, stroking them across her cheek, not caring of the blood that now stained my clothes or the tears that wetted my shirt. So much pain. She had been holding in so much pain for so long and now it was all coming out in ugly gasps and as I felt her body sag against me, I became terrified. Suddenly, Hazel felt so very small and frail. <</if>>
“He’s gone,” she cried. “He’s actually gone. I promised him, $name. I promised that I would get him back and I couldn’t do it. What am I doing wrong? Why did I fail him?”
Gently, I hushed her. Falling back on my hunches, I took her with me, listening to her grieve for the first time in ten years. My heart broke in response. Mostly, I had always believed Hazel when she said she would get him back. Now, I felt that belief being torn apart.
Malcolm Albright was gone. And he was never returning.
Rocking her, I tried to comfort her as best I could, feeling her blood slick fingers scramble against me as she cried for the brother she never got to say goodbye to. The one she had tried so hard through the years to regain. To save. But it was never enough. Death was a fickle creature and only loosened its claws when it saw fit.
I hoped he was at rest. Wherever this illusive man was, I hope he was resting peacefully. Maybe he had been called home to a different world. A different time or reality. Maybe he was finally getting to live a life free of pain. I hoped that even if he had fallen into a deep sleep beneath the ocean, he was at peace.
“$name,” Belladonna whispered.
I lifted my head, looking at her but she was not staring back at me. Neither was Gabriel. The two of them were looking beyond towards the apothecary counter. Turning, I felt my breath escape me.
The faint outline of a door was forming. Something green and crackling blue as a willow tree grew up into an arch, cracking against the counter. The faint glow from within grew stronger and stronger and as I looked down, I watched as Hazel’s blood traveled across a branch towards it, tinged with the amber lights of what looked like lantern light.
Numbly, I turned Hazel towards the forming gate, not able to force the words past my own throat. I watched her confusion play across her face before she locked eyes with the forming door, her lips parting as she waited. As we all waited.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Hazel end 2]]
As the willow branches wove together, they cracked into place like clicking joints before the eerie high-pitched sound of a bell filled the room. A burst of energy shot forth just as everything snapped into place, hitting us all with a blunt smack. Light burst in sharp fractal rays, jumping across the floor in singing sparks. Then, with one blinding blast, it expelled something. The swirling sea of energy that was contained between the branches cracked like thunder, pushing something forth. It hit the floor with a thump, skidding to a stop before us, lit only by the flickering light from where it had once been.
I looked down at the curled form in front of us, a dark head of hair, wet and plastered to a tanned face. A man was blinking back at me, looking around with the same wildness that I had seen from Hazel just moments ago. Slowly, he rose on his hunches, arms shaking as his eyes adjusted to the dim light.
“Malcolm?”
His head snapped towards the sound of his sister's voice, so soft and small. But it was the home he had been searching for. The same home she had desperately wished he’d come back to. And as their eyes met, I felt Hazel shake in my arms.
Slowly, he blinked at her, licking his lips and forcing his words out through a voice that hadn’t been heard in the market for over a decade. “Hazel?”
Laughter rang through the room as she flung herself at him, her arms curling around his neck and clinging to him tight. I watched as his own arms shakily came up, hesitant, before finally wrapping around her. Relief washed over him as he squeezed his eyes shut, tears slipping from beneath his dark lashes.
“I missed you,” he whispered to her.
She pulled back, tears staining her cheeks as she cupped his within her hands. “I missed you, too.”
Behind them, the gate guttered to a close, plunging the room in darkness as it began to crumble to ash. And there, in the same spot that he had taken his last breath, knelt Malcolm Albright. Finally, home.
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Chapter Eleven|Belladonna start chapter eleven]]<<elseif $belladonnaro == "false">> [[Chapter Eleven]]<</if>><img src="images/Ch11.png"
height="300" width="900">
Rain fell softly outside the open window, scattering down across the ground in beads of dew that popped and fed the earth. The wisps were all hiding in their trees, shivering at the sudden exposure to moisture and making the leaves vibrate. I sat by the open window, looking out at the garden. When I had first arrived here, I used to watch foxes prowl towards the vegetable path, stealing thick pumpkins or buttery yellow squash. The squirrels would race up and down the trees, chittering at each other as they collected small bits of nuts or overripe berries, preparing for what Hazel said was their month of chill. They dug within the earth to hide their wares under the watchful eyes of singing birds. But now, aside from the rain, there was nothing. The animals had all fled, the creek down the way had begun to run dry, and even the occasional moan from the alleyway was now met with only a terrifying silence.
All because Hazel needed to bring the man in the other room home.
Gabriel had helped get Malcolm upstairs and into his old room. Malcolm had stumbled up the narrow stairwell with half lidded eyes, still predominantly unaware of what had happened. To him. To the world. Hazel hushed him, whispering nonsense to him through her tears. When the door to his room was nudged open and Malcolm was laid on a bed he had not seen in quite some time, he passed out. His eyes had fallen shut, and his fingers had gone lax in his sister's hand. For one horrifying moment, I had thought he was dead. Gone again so soon after getting him back. The stillness of his chest was so pronounced that Hazel had leaned forward, pressing her ear to his heart. Only then did she sigh with relief.
Half a day had gone by. Half a day where we all orbited each other in some sort of silence. Belladonna had been the first to leave. Oddly, upon Gabriel’s direction. She was a Baron now. She could not be away from her people for long. There was order and direction that were suddenly her responsibility and an entire mess of procedure that Gabriel wanted her to follow. Due to the shaky foundation they were trying to rebuild a friendship on, Belladonna actually listened. Or listened as much as Belladonna ever did.
Gabriel left after that. Doing his last rounds downstairs. Making sure the gate was shut and that the doors to the shop were locked tight. Hazel’s apothecary was closed for the foreseeable future. The blown out windows and the stained-glass that littered the floors, were being swept up by the dust motes that lived in the corners. But the floorboards were cracked through with willow root and a dead gate stood unmoving before her front counter.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>Gabriel spoke in hushed tones to Hazel just inside Malcolm’s room and had looked at the man on the bed with a mild sense of trepidation. He stopped by my side before he left entirely, tipping my chin upwards to kiss me softly on the lips.
“Contact me if anything happens,” he whispered. “No matter how small.” I promised him that I would and held onto him for a moment longer. Then, I was alone in the living room with Mr. Billows while Hazel stayed in her brother’s room. <<elseif $gabrielro == "false">>Gabriel spoke in hushed tones to Hazel just inside Malcolm’s room and had looked at the man on the bed with a mild sense of trepidation. When he had left, he did so silently, giving me a brief nod and asking for a promise to contact him if things became too out of hand. It left me alone in the living room with Mr. Billows while Hazel stayed in her brother’s room.<</if>>
I still had not come to terms with what she had done. The blood would stain the floors downstairs and the willow branches that had created the gate were slowly rotting away. By tomorrow, there was no doubt the gate would be gone completely. The spirits outside the door had looked on at the spectacle within with hollow eyes and unhinged jaws while Hazel knelt bloody and crying before them. I couldn’t get the image out of my head no matter how hard I tried. And while Malcolm was now back, I had to wonder at what cost. Milo’s warnings suddenly rang a lot clearer now that we were on the other side of it all.
My eyes ticked to the bedroom.
Milo.
He still didn’t know. He was the only one of us that had not been here. I almost dreaded the moment he walked through the door.
[[Next|Chapter Eleven 1]]
When the bedroom door creaked open, I turned from my contemplation of the window and back garden. Hazel was slipping out of the room, her hair down, her face tired and drawn. Her clothes were still stained, but her hands looked far cleaner.
“How is he?” I asked.
“Still sleeping.” She sat heavily down upon the sofa, staring at the flickering candles Belladonna had lit for her. They littered the room and did just enough to drive off the shadows. I couldn’t be certain but they seemed more sentient tonight. Long fingers kept reaching out across the walls as if to snatch someone away. “I don’t know if he’s going to wake up.”
It was said with such resigned formality that I was almost startled. As if the life had all drained out of Hazel by now and she was nothing more than a numb shell of her former self. The blood that had pooled beneath her had been far more than what anyone should have been able to survive. Briefly, I feared she would become the spirits that wandered the market. Lost and alone and eventually forgotten.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> My heart stuttered at the very thought of it all. A life without Hazel felt cold and unforgiving.<</if>>
[[What exactly did you do?]]
[[I thought you weren’t going to do this alone]]
[[How are you feeling?]]There was a part of me that was angry. A bigger part that was scared. I had watched a woman be torn apart before my eyes only hours before and then came home to a place that I thought was untouchable, to find Hazel half dead with the spirits hungrily awaiting her. I tried to keep myself calm with my next words, not wanting to upset her but also not wanting to shrug off what I had seen.
“Hazel, what exactly did you do to bring Malcolm back?”
It was with a subtle tick that her eyes looked away. I could see the black still ringed around her iris and the faint green veins that ran through her when her magic pulsed bright. “It was nothing.”
“It was definitely something,” I countered.
“Not until you touched me it wasn’t.”
I felt myself reel back at that. The spell hadn’t been working when we came downstairs. Hazel had been kneeling amongst failure and the crack of the gate hadn’t sparked through the room until I came up to hug her. I had thought it to be a coincidence at the time but it was clearly a moment that was sticking in more than just my head.
“I don’t know what that means. But I do want to understand what you had to do tonight to bring him back,” I started. It seemed that Milo’s avoidance tendencies had rubbed off on her through the years.
Rubbing at her eyes, I watched as she softened a bit. An echo of the girl who smiled at me each morning, no matter how early the day had to begin. “It was an old spell,” she said. “One I modified of my mothers. I’ve been perfecting it for years.”
“Are there drawbacks to it?”
“If there are, they are unforeseen. It’s why the spell took so long. I had to rework it to not include the blood of a child or the burnt flesh of a dryad.” The casual way in which she stated it all made my stomach curl. Childhood in the Albright household was filled with darkness that I had yet to unveil. “Something went wrong though. He should be awake. He should be up and talking,” she said in frustration. “Maybe I did something wrong, missed a spell component, but I can’t think of what it would even be.”
Panic shuddered through me momentarily. If Hazel tried anything again, I didn’t think she would survive. I didn’t think the shop would still be standing. But I was coming to the realization that nothing was allowed to sit in Hazel’s path when it came to Malcolm.
“Maybe give it a few days,” I tried. “It’s been ten years.”
She continued to stare at the candle flame and I watched as her warm gaze darkened further and further.
[[Doing anything now could harm him]]
[[I don’t want to see you get hurt]]
[[Hazel, give it time]]“I thought you weren’t going to do this alone,” I ventured slowly. She hadn’t promised she would wait for me specifically, which, in hindsight, I almost felt like I should have made her do. But she had said she would contact Gabriel. That she would inform Milo. Yet, she was alone tonight.
Wrapping her arms tighter around her waist, Hazel frowned. She opened her mouth as if to respond but shut it with a small click. The shadows looked at her eagerly and I watched as she waved them away with a small flick of her finger, her eyes darkening at the gesture.
“Have you ever wanted something just for yourself?” she asked. I fell short. Had I? The immediate response I had was yes but I had nothing to back that up with. “That’s what tonight felt like. When Malcolm died, it was unexpected. It was like my world suddenly went dark. But I had promised him, before everything went down, that I would protect him. Get him home if I needed to. We didn’t say goodbye that day. We said we’d see each other soon. //I// wanted to keep that promise to him, $name. Me. No one else.”
“But Milo was there, too,” I said softly.
She nodded. “And yet he is nowhere to be seen now.” She sighed, tucking her feet beneath her and avoiding my eyes. “It was dangerous and possibly stupid but at the same time? The danger I could have put you in. Put anyone in? Wasn’t worth it. I know magic through and through in a world that tries to bury it because of the actions of my mother. Even if you were here, what were you to do?”
“Make sure you did not go through this alone.” Make sure to pull her back the second her blood started running thick.
She looked at me, as if she heard my thoughts, and gave me a soft smile. It was exactly why no one had been here. She hadn’t wanted to be stopped.
We sat in a brief silence, listening to the house creak. The familiar puff of the chimney clanked upon the roof as the fire rolled in the hearth. <<if $hazelro == "true">> “You,” I said after a moment.
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Me what?”
“You asked if I had ever wanted something just for me. For no one else. I knew from the moment I saw you, that I wanted to be with you. That you were for me.” I felt my stomach flutter at the confession and my throat grow thick. As if ashamed, Hazel turned away. She continued to stare at the candle flame and I watched as her warm gaze darkened further and further.<</if>>
Leaning tiredly back in my chair, I closed my eyes. I knew what she was thinking. With every moment that Malcolm did not wake, with every tick of the cog work clock that he did not open his eyes, Hazel wondered just what she did wrong.
“Are you planning on doing something else?” I asked.
“The spell went wrong,” she said. “He’s here but he’s not. Something I did wasn’t correct and…” she trailed off, her mind already spiraling into possibilities.
[[Doing anything now could harm him]]
[[I don’t want to see you get hurt]]
[[Hazel, give it time]]“How are you feeling? Not… I just mean physically.” She had lost too much blood and her skin looked pallid instead of those deep earthy tones I was used to.
“I’m alright,” she said. “I took precautions before. My blood should be fully replenished soon. After some sleep I’m sure I’ll be back to normal.” There was a part of me that didn’t believe that. Not with the deadened sound of her voice and how her eyes were still rimmed with black.
“If you want to go and get some sleep I can watch over him,” I suggested.
But she just shook her head. Until Malcolm opened his eyes again I doubted she would be doing much of anything. At best, we could hope that she would fall into some sort of restful trance.
“Why do you think he’s not going to wake?” I ventured slowly.
It took her a while to answer. At first, I wondered if she had even heard me. The light from the candle flickered across her skin, dancing across her face in a strange cracked pattern. As if the light wouldn’t touch bits of magic that were still clinging to her skin. Shifting, she crossed her arms over herself, hugging her waist tight.
“He is so still,” she whispered. “Cold. I know it’s him. I can feel that it's him. But he’s still not entirely here.”
“What does that mean?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I did something wrong, missed a spell component, but I can’t think of what it would even be.”
Panic shuddered through me momentarily. If Hazel tried anything again, I didn’t think she would survive. I didn’t think the shop would still be standing. But I was coming to the realization that nothing was allowed to sit in Hazel’s path when it came to Malcolm.
“Maybe give it a few days,” I tried. “It’s been ten years.”
She continued to stare at the candle flame and I watched as her warm gaze darkened further and further.
[[Doing anything now could harm him]]
[[I don’t want to see you get hurt]]
[[Hazel, give it time]]“We don’t know if there are any complications,” I said quickly. “He has been dead for ten years. He might just need a little bit of time. You can’t just go and keep throwing spells or rituals or other things that I don’t really understand at him.” Ducking forward, I caught her eye. “You could hurt him if you do too much too soon.”
“But if I don’t do anything…”
“I’m not asking you to not do anything,” I said quickly. “I’m asking that you take a moment and approach this in a way that is not going to cause anyone else harm.”
Burying her head in her hands, she began crying softly, curling her body in on herself. Rising from the window seat, I walked over to her, wrapping an arm comfortingly around her. <<if $hazelro == "true">> She curled into me, tucking her head beneath my chin. The moment she was in my arms again, I tightened my grip around her. As if just having her here, I could somehow keep out all the bad that might be coming our way.<</if>>
“It all got away from me,” she whispered. “I know it did.” But she wouldn’t have changed it. We both knew that. Because in the end, it worked. We would deal with waking Malcolm up but in the end of it all, her actions still had resulted in getting her brother back. Setting right to a wrong that had long ago torn the lives of so many.
There was nothing I could say. Platitudes were unwelcome and not needed. As Hazel shook next to me, I knew that the only thing that she needed in that moment was for someone not to leave her. The day Malcolm died he took with him the last remnants of family. And Milo had stuck by her but given the nature of who Milo was, he had never really been here. And he had never been hers. <<if $hazelro == "true">> But I had hope. Hope that maybe I could be hers. If we could move past whatever this was, if we could trust each other and mend our sorrows together, then maybe this would work. Maybe for the first time, each of us would be able to find a home within each other's arms.<</if>>
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping at her tears. “I don’t know if I thought this would be different or… he’s back but he’s not.”
“It’s only been a few hours,” I assured her. “A lot has happened.” A lot had happened. My eyes went slightly wide. We had stumbled into Hazel’s ritual. She didn’t even know. Pulling away, I looked at her. “Kavatti is dead,” I said quickly, blurting it out. It shocked the rest of the tears out of her as her head snapped up at me in question. “Belladonna killed her. She walked in there and played a game to get close to her and the second Kavatti let her guard down, she killed the woman.”
Hazel let out a rush of air. Just like that, the woman who had taken Malcolm from her, was gone from this world. “I- I don’t even know what to say. I shouldn’t feel happy but…”
But the woman had started it all. There was a sort of poetic justice to the fact that the night Kavatti died, Malcolm was returned to the market.
“Wait. Does that mean Belladonna…?” A Baron. After dealing with them for so long, to know that Belladonna had simply become one tonight was going to take a while to come to terms with. “Is that a good thing?” Hazel asked.
[[I don’t know|Chapter Eleven I don't know]]
[[It’s a new thing]]
[[I think Belladonna will make a good Baron]]“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” I told her firmly. What she had done tonight could have so easily taken her away. <<if $hazelro == "true">> There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for Hazel at this point and I knew if she just would have asked me, I could have helped. I could have made this happen safely.<</if>> The seeds of grief had been planted so long ago and now I could see how they were practically consuming her.
Burying her head in her hands, she began crying softly, curling her body in on herself. Rising from the window seat, I walked over to her, wrapping an arm comfortingly around her. <<if $hazelro == "true">> She curled into me, tucking her head beneath my chin. The moment she was in my arms again, I tightened my grip around her. As if just having her here, I could somehow keep out all the bad that might be coming our way.<</if>>
“It all got away from me,” she whispered. “I know it did.” But she wouldn’t have changed it. We both knew that. Because in the end, it worked. We would deal with waking Malcolm up but in the end of it all, her actions still had resulted in getting her brother back. Setting right to a wrong that had long ago torn the lives of so many.
There was nothing I could say. Platitudes were unwelcome and not needed. As Hazel shook next to me, I knew that the only thing that she needed in that moment was for someone not to leave her. The day Malcolm died he took with him the last remnants of family. And Milo had stuck by her but given the nature of who Milo was, he had never really been here. And he had never been hers. <<if $hazelro == "true">> But I had hope. Hope that maybe I could be hers. If we could move past whatever this was, if we could trust each other and mend our sorrows together, then maybe this would work. Maybe for the first time, each of us would be able to find a home within each other's arms.<</if>>
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping at her tears. “I don’t know if I thought this would be different or… he’s back but he’s not.”
“It’s only been a few hours,” I assured her. “A lot has happened.” A lot had happened. My eyes went slightly wide. We had stumbled into Hazel’s ritual. She didn’t even know. Pulling away, I looked at her. “Kavatti is dead,” I said quickly, blurting it out. It shocked the rest of the tears out of her as her head snapped up at me in question. “Belladonna killed her. She walked in there and played a game to get close to her and the second Kavatti let her guard down, she killed the woman.”
Hazel let out a rush of air. Just like that, the woman who had taken Malcolm from her, was gone from this world. “I- I don’t even know what to say. I shouldn’t feel happy but…”
But the woman had started it all. There was a sort of poetic justice to the fact that the night Kavatti died, Malcolm was returned to the market.
“Wait. Does that mean Belladonna…?” A Baron. After dealing with them for so long, to know that Belladonna had simply become one tonight was going to take a while to come to terms with. “Is that a good thing?” Hazel asked.
[[I don’t know|Chapter Eleven I don't know]]
[[It’s a new thing]]
[[I think Belladonna will make a good Baron]]Leaning forward, I tried to grab her attention. “Hazel, you need to give it time. If you jump into another ritual while you’re weak, while //he’s// weak, you could ruin everything that you have worked for. Don’t let everything you’ve done be in vain.”
Slowly, her head turned towards me. She looked nothing like the girl I had come to know. The sweet temperament, the understanding gaze, they were all gone. Her face suddenly looked sharp, cheeks hollow and eyes sunken. This was the witch that lied in slumber beneath her soft exterior. This was the daughter of one of the most feared women within the Night Market. The bog witch of apothecary alley.
“Hazel,” I said again, trying to stay firm. “Please.”
And with a blink, it was all gone. Her eyes fluttered as she looked back at me. “Oh, $name,” she stuttered, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
Burying her head in her hands, she began crying softly, curling her body in on herself. Rising from the window seat, I walked over to her, wrapping an arm comfortingly around her. <<if $hazelro == "true">> She curled into me, tucking her head beneath my chin. The moment she was in my arms again, I tightened my grip around her. As if just having her here, I could somehow keep out all the bad that might be coming our way.<</if>>
“It all got away from me,” she whispered. “I know it did.” But she wouldn’t have changed it. We both knew that. Because in the end, it worked. We would deal with waking Malcolm up but in the end of it all, her actions still had resulted in getting her brother back. Setting right to a wrong that had long ago torn the lives of so many.
There was nothing I could say. Platitudes were unwelcome and not needed. As Hazel shook next to me, I knew that the only thing that she needed in that moment was for someone not to leave her. The day Malcolm died he took with him the last remnants of family. And Milo had stuck by her but given the nature of who Milo was, he had never really been here. And he had never been hers. <<if $hazelro == "true">> But I had hope. Hope that maybe I could be hers. If we could move past whatever this was, if we could trust each other and mend our sorrows together, then maybe this would work. Maybe for the first time, each of us would be able to find a home within each other's arms.<</if>>
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping at her tears. “I don’t know if I thought this would be different or… he’s back but he’s not.”
“It’s only been a few hours,” I assured her. “A lot has happened.” A lot had happened. My eyes went slightly wide. We had stumbled into Hazel’s ritual. She didn’t even know. Pulling away, I looked at her. “Kavatti is dead,” I said quickly, blurting it out. It shocked the rest of the tears out of her as her head snapped up at me in question. “Belladonna killed her. She walked in there and played a game to get close to her and the second Kavatti let her guard down, she killed the woman.”
Hazel let out a rush of air. Just like that, the woman who had taken Malcolm from her, was gone from this world. “I- I don’t even know what to say. I shouldn’t feel happy but…”
But the woman had started it all. There was a sort of poetic justice to the fact that the night Kavatti died, Malcolm was returned to the market.
“Wait. Does that mean Belladonna…?” A Baron. After dealing with them for so long, to know that Belladonna had simply become one tonight was going to take a while to come to terms with. “Is that a good thing?” Hazel asked.
[[I don’t know|Chapter Eleven I don't know]]
[[It’s a new thing]]
[[I think Belladonna will make a good Baron]]“It’s going to be different. That’s for sure.” Belladonna was a woman who had worked her way to the top. Who had gotten there on her own volition. This was really no different. But having her as a Baron felt ill fitting given how little the others Barons seemed to care. Part of me was concerned. A target would either be placed upon the vampire or she would single-handedly change how the Barons operated. Even if she had to kill each and every one of them to do it. <<if $belladonnaro == "true">> “How much danger do you think she’s in?” I asked softly, trying not to let my fear control me.
“I wouldn’t want to mess with her,” Hazel said. “But for as long as I have known Belladonna, someone has always thought they could take advantage of her. Like she was some prize worth having. Becoming a Baron only makes that all the more appealing.”
That had been exactly what I was afraid of. And suddenly, the life of this untouchable woman felt far more precarious.<</if>>
There was a lot that was about to change, I felt. Belladonna the Baron. The Gatekeeper's name possibly at hand. Hopefully some sort of reconciliation between Gabriel and Belladonna, thus giving us a Warden and a Baron on our side. Malcolm returning and healing old wounds. There was hope. There were actual results from what we had been working towards. The road to this moment was bloody and built upon shaky ground, but something was happening and after tonight I no longer felt we were just sitting idly by.
“$name?” Hazel started hesitantly. “Have you seen Milo?”
My eyes ticked towards the door. The one that led up from the apothecary. I worried he would come in from downstairs, seeing the carnage first. “Not since he left the other morning.”
“I haven’t tried to contact him. Not with what’s going on. I don’t really want to leave here but, he really should know.” Malcolm’s door loomed in our periphery. It went without saying that we were not just talking about Belladonna’s new position within the market. “Could you go get him?”
Part of me didn’t want to. However Milo would react felt like a great unknown. But, if I put myself in his shoes, I wouldn’t have wanted everyone else to just wait for me to show up again.
“Of course,” I told her.<<if $miloro == "true">> “Do you want me to tell him what happened or do you want to?”
“I think you should do it. If you’re comfortable. I just– he’s going to need someone and I don’t know, given how things have gone lately, if I’m the right someone for this. You seem to understand him much more.”
Lately, it didn’t feel like I did. Lately, it felt as if Milo and I were two drifting boats on a rocky sea. One he was not even trying to steer towards me anymore.<</if>>
“I’ll bring him up through the side entrance,” I told her, trying to give a reassuring grin. “The last thing he needs to see right now is how the shop looks.”
Hazel winced. “He built half of that down there, you know.”
We both knew that would be the least of his worries though.
[[Next|Chapter 11 2]]
“I think so. I mean, while I don’t know Belladonna incredibly well, she is overall level headed.” I frowned. Or at least I thought she was until I found out she had been planning a murder for several years and did it in the most brutal way possible. “My point is that I think Belladonna is a Baron who isn’t going to abandon people. Given what I’ve seen the last few weeks, maybe the Night Market needs someone like Belladonna. She’ll cut through the bullshit much easier. And anyone is better than that Kavatti woman. She was somehow so much worse than I thought she would be.” Ten years later and she was still relishing the kill of the Gatekeeper.
Hazel slumped back on the sofa. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Belladonna had always hated Kavatti. It seemed odd that she was volunteering to go and deal with her so easily. That she was even working with us to begin with.”
There was a lot that was about to change, I felt. Belladonna the Baron. The Gatekeepers name possibly at hand. Hopefully some sort of reconciliation between Gabriel and Belladonna, thus giving us a Warden and a Baron on our side. Malcolm returning and healing old wounds. There was hope. There were actual results from what we had been working towards. The road to this moment was bloody and built upon shaky ground, but something was happening and after tonight I no longer felt we were just sitting idly by.
“$name?” Hazel started hesitantly. “Have you seen Milo?”
My eyes ticked towards the door. The one that led up from the apothecary. I worried he would come in from downstairs, seeing the carnage first. “Not since he left the other morning.”
“I haven’t tried to contact him. Not with what’s going on. I don’t really want to leave here but, he really should know.” Malcolm’s door loomed in our periphery. It went without saying that we were not just talking about Belladonna’s new position within the market. “Could you go get him?”
Part of me didn’t want to. However Milo would react felt like a great unknown. But, if I put myself in his shoes, I wouldn’t have wanted everyone else to just wait for me to show up again.
“Of course,” I told her.<<if $miloro == "true">> “Do you want me to tell him what happened or do you want to?”
“I think you should do it. If you’re comfortable. I just– he’s going to need someone and I don’t know, given how things have gone lately, if I’m the right someone for this. You seem to understand him much more.”
Lately, it didn’t feel like I did. Lately, it felt as if Milo and I were two drifting boats on a rocky sea. One he was not even trying to steer towards me anymore.<</if>>
“I’ll bring him up through the side entrance,” I told her, trying to give a reassuring grin. “The last thing he needs to see right now is how the shop looks.”
Hazel winced. “He built half of that down there, you know.”
We both knew that would be the least of his worries though.
[[Next|Chapter 11 2]]
“I really don’t know.” The brutality in which she tore Kavatti apart tonight was certainly not the actions I expected out of most of the Barons. To me, they all seemed to be sitting back. Playing a game of intrigue. Though, I suppose that was exactly what Belladonna was doing herself. She had just finally found her opening and took the kill.
There was a lot that was about to change, I felt. Belladonna the Baron. The Gatekeepers name possibly at hand. Hopefully some sort of reconciliation between Gabriel and Belladonna, thus giving us a Warden and a Baron on our side. Malcolm returning and healing old wounds. There was hope. There were actual results from what we had been working towards. The road to this moment was bloody and built upon shaky ground, but something was happening and after tonight I no longer felt we were just sitting idly by.
“$name?” Hazel started hesitantly. “Have you seen Milo?”
My eyes ticked towards the door. The one that led up from the apothecary. I worried he would come in from downstairs, seeing the carnage first. “Not since he left the other morning.”
“I haven’t tried to contact him. Not with what’s going on. I don’t really want to leave here but, he really should know.” Malcolm’s door loomed in our periphery. It went without saying that we were not just talking about Belladonna’s new position within the market. “Could you go get him?”
Part of me didn’t want to. However Milo would react felt like a great unknown. But, if I put myself in his shoes, I wouldn’t have wanted everyone else to just wait for me to show up again.
“Of course,” I told her.<<if $miloro == "true">> “Do you want me to tell him what happened or do you want to?”
“I think you should do it. If you’re comfortable. I just– he’s going to need someone and I don’t know, given how things have gone lately, if I’m the right someone for this. You seem to understand him much more.”
Lately, it didn’t feel like I did. Lately, it felt as if Milo and I were two drifting boats on a rocky sea. One he was not even trying to steer towards me anymore.<</if>>
“I’ll bring him up through the side entrance,” I told her, trying to give a reassuring grin. “The last thing he needs to see right now is how the shop looks.”
Hazel winced. “He built half of that down there, you know.”
We both knew that would be the least of his worries though.
[[Next|Chapter 11 2]]
The alley felt cold.
When I had first come to the market and made the initial journey down the burnt out husk of a district, towards Hazel’s apothecary, I had felt my heart stutter. Glimmering eyes had peered at me through the thick residue of smoke and ash, beckoning me like a siren to come inside. The proceeding journeys down the alleyway since, had gotten a bit easier. I had picked up tricks along the way. Belladonna had told me to walk fast. Gabriel had told me to never make eye contact. And Milo had told me to always stay on the path. Standing before its opening now, the comfort of Hazel’s home firmly at my back, I felt none of the trepidation that I always had before. Each time before stepping into the alley, I had hesitated. Just a single moment where my foot faltered. It all felt so silly now.
Walking down the alley, I was struck with how potent of magic the air smelled. It crackled with something that had fizzled out, stinging both my eyes and nose. But the bleakness of the burnt down buildings was suddenly a bit brighter. The shadows were not as thick and I could see to the back of the old shops. All of which were empty aside from the few stone chimneys that had survived the burn and the occasional crate or two that somehow had not crumbled. The spirits of the alley were well and truly gone and for the Night Market, I didn’t know what that even meant. The well of souls was blocked down in the Deep and the deadwere not supposed to ever truly leave the realm. My eyes ticked upwards towards the sky, as if expecting to see a tear there. It was still filled with flickering lamplight and a dark world beyond. For now, at least.
Exiting the alley I stopped for a moment, trying to decide where exactly Milo would be. Logic dictated his home but Milo far more a fixture within the taverns and the market streets. He had become more and more secretive lately, dancing out of view and waltzing with shadows.
“Excuse me?”
I turned, a deep and rich voice calling out for me. A tall woman stood near the three-tiered fountain, her hair dark and unbound down her back. She wore a simple dress of gold and green, her arms bare to the chill around us.
“Did you just come from the alley?” she asked.
I was standing right outside of it. I didn’t know why she would even need to ask. “I did.”
The smile that grew across her face was wide, teeth pearly when set across a dusky complexion. “Wonderful. It’s been so long since I’ve been here that I feel as if I got turned around. I was looking for apothecary alley.”
I glanced behind me. “I mean, that is it. But the alley burned down a while ago. There’s a little shop at the very end of it all but I just came from there. They’re closed for the day.”
“Is that the Albright’s shop?” she asked.
“It is. I live there and help out in the front of the shop.” Not that I had been doing much in the way of help lately. “Is it urgent?” With Hazel’s being shut down, there weren’t a lot of other reputable options for tonics within the market. The occasional stalls that popped up were often ran by charlatans, leaving Hazel’s one of the few places an individual could trust if it was a matter of life or death.
“Oh, no. No, what I need isn’t urgent at all. I’ll be in the market for a while. I’m considering making it my home again. I was just trying to get the lay of the land. So much has changed since I’ve been here last.”
I smiled at her, my eyes ticking towards the lights of the spice district. “Well, maybe in a few days we’ll be open.”
“Of course. I do hope everything is okay.”
“Family stuff,” I said vaguely. Nodding towards her, I dismissed myself, heading towards the alley adjacent to where I stood. Before slipping away, I did look back at her though. She stood tall and statuesque, looking down the burnt alley. Her hands remained by her side, naked of any sort of adornment, but I could see the faint lines of a tattoo running up each finger.
Shaking my head, I let the woman be. Intent instead to go find Milo.
[[Next|Chapter Eleven 2.5]]
The shortcut to Milo’s distillery was through the Spice District. Beneath the sway of the $lantern lanterns, his offshoot of an alley was hidden behind a noodle cart ran by a man with horns that caught onto the fabric awning of his venue daily. The district seemed busier than I was used to as I began to wander around people, weaving in and out of shoppers and new faces as excited murmurs of a ball began to filter through the crowd. I ignored it all in favor of the twisting rot that filled my stomach. From the second Malcolm had been introduced as part of their lives, Milo had gotten cagey. He had been the force to fight against when discussing the possibility of getting him home. Milo had fought Hazel every step of the way for years prior to my arrival. And now, the very person he dreaded, was lying in the bed in the apothecary. Like the Deep, I wondered if he would even believe Malcolm to be here and how much it would take for me to get him to come back to the shop with me.
<<if $freedonkeys == "true">> Turning the corner, I sidestepped around a pair of wandering donkeys. They munched on the grass sprouting from between the cracks, aimlessly meandering through the market streets. <<elseif $freedonkeys == "false">>Turning the corner, I sidestepped around a pair of market goers as they stopped and ogled the sights and smells before them.<</if>> As I was passing the kafe cart that Milo often frequented, I smelled the spicy scent of the warming drink and wondered if it would help drive away the headache I seemed to not be able to rid myself of. Maybe that was how I would get Milo to follow me. Promise him kafe on our way back.
“You won’t be finding him.”
I paused, confused for a moment at the voice that called out to me. When my eyes laid upon the kafe stall and the owner, I paused. She was looking right at me, her black orbs piercing. I tipped my head to the side curiously.
Moving out from behind the counter, she flipped her wooden sign to closed, tossing aside an old and dirty rag she had been drying her hands on. Neve was a short woman and as she passed me, she didn’t say a word. It wasn’t until she was about three feet ahead that she looked over her shoulder expectantly.
“Come on now.” And she continued walking.
[[Follow without question. I had learned that most things happened in the market for a reason]]
[[Follow cautiously. I had learned that most were duplicitous in the Night Market]]
[[Follow but ask if she knows where Milo is. I had learned to expect that random strangers knew more than me]]Silently I followed her through the noise of the market. She wove in and out of people in a familiar dance, anticipating their steps before she even made her own. I lost her a few times as the crowd became too thick and she ducked between taller individuals but she always waited if I truly got lost. When we emerged at the top of a stone staircase, I peered down the steps to the large wooden door that stood there.
I don’t know what it said about me that I didn’t utter a word as we walked down the narrow stairwell.
The door opened at the turn of a large brass key and the scent of must and damp earth hit me. The walls were padded with verdant moss, bioluminescent mushrooms growing out of the wall and pulsing with a soft glow. Neve picked one of them, holding it in her hand and whispering something to the cap that made it glow brighter. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw more of the same dark stretching behind me, the door gone.
“Don’t panic,” the woman said. It was snapped in such a way that I didn’t know how I was not supposed to. “It has been far too long of a wait,” Neve told me as she began walking. “It’s time that you know who you are and why you are here.”
My heart froze. “You know why I’m here?”
“I’ve known from the day you stepped foot onto our cobbled streets. But the question is, have you figured it out yet?”
[[I feel that I’m important to what is going on here]]
[[I think I am just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time]]
[[I’ve honestly been trying not to think about it]]I followed her through the noise of the market, making sure to keep my distance. Staying alert, my eyes darted to either side. The moment I felt anything amiss, I planned to run. I’d run all the way to Gabriel’s office if I had to.
She wove in and out of people in a familiar dance, anticipating their steps before she even made her own. I lost her a few times as the crowd became too thick and she ducked between taller individuals but she always waited if I truly got lost. When we emerged at the top of a stone staircase, I peered down the steps to the large wooden door that stood there.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, my voice echoing across the sudden quiet.
Neve didn’t answer as she began to walk downwards. And for reasons unknown, I followed her.
The door opened at the turn of a large brass key and the scent of must and damp earth hit me. The walls were padded with verdant moss, bioluminescent mushrooms growing out of the wall and pulsing with a soft glow. Neve picked one of them, holding it in her hand and whispering something to the cap that made it glow brighter. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw more of the same dark stretching behind me, the door gone.
“Don’t panic,” the woman said. It was snapped in such a way that I didn’t know how I was not supposed to. “It has been far too long of a wait,” Neve told me as she began walking. “It’s time that you know who you are and why you are here.”
My heart froze. “You know why I’m here?”
“I’ve known from the day you stepped foot onto our cobbled streets. But the question is, have you figured it out yet?”
[[I feel that I’m important to what is going on here]]
[[I think I am just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time]]
[[I’ve honestly been trying not to think about it]]I followed her as she wove in and out of people in a familiar dance, anticipating their steps before she even made her own. I lost her a few times as the crowd became too thick and she ducked between taller individuals but she always waited if I truly got lost. When we emerged at the top of a stone staircase, I peered down the steps to the large wooden door that stood there.
“Do you know where Milo is?” I peered down the stairwell, as if I expected to see him open the door and greet me with that half smile of his.
Neve didn’t answer as she began to walk downwards. And for reasons unknown, I followed her.
The door opened at the turn of a large brass key and the scent of must and damp earth hit me. The walls were padded with verdant moss, bioluminescent mushrooms growing out of the wall and pulsing with a soft glow. Neve picked one of them, holding it in her hand and whispering something to the cap that made it glow brighter. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw more of the same dark stretching behind me, the door gone.
“Don’t panic,” the woman said. It was snapped in such a way that I didn’t know how I was not supposed to. “It has been far too long of a wait,” Neve told me as she began walking. “It’s time that you know who you are and why you are here.”
My heart froze. “You know why I’m here?”
“I’ve known from the day you stepped foot onto our cobbled streets. But the question is, have you figured it out yet?”
[[I feel that I’m important to what is going on here]]
[[I think I am just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time]]
[[I’ve honestly been trying not to think about it]]I looked at her steadily, feeling my world slow down around me. I had done this a few times before. In the moments that mattered at least. Like I could feel the world breathe in tandem with the rise and fall of my own chest.
“I feel that I’m important to what is going on here,” I told her. “I just don’t know why yet.”
Neve just hummed at me, taking in the response with a brief bob of her head but neither confirming or denying any of it.
The moss laden tunnel didn’t go on for long before another door appeared and we stepped through into a vaulted ruin. A deep well sat in the middle, bubbling with lavender smoke while the walls looked as if they were made up of various sized pillars. Nine to be exact. Each one with differing figures carved into their stone. A snake wrapped around one with a vine of flowers adorning its back. It moved slowly, its scales shimmering as it ascended towards the ceiling before starting all over again on a constant loop. Another was covered in barnacles, conch shells crying out with the sound of the ocean while two selkies played at the base of the waves that frothed against the limestone. Another was all glittering light that expanded out far beyond what I could even imagine, a harmonious song humming form within but whose edges were blackened with corruption.
I looked around in wonder at the monolithic structures before us, not even realizing I had come to the well.
“These represent the Barons,” I said.
Neve nodded.
There was one that looked as if it were still forming. Something that had recently crumbled and was slowly being rebuilt. Veins of soft red shot through the surface like blood, feeding the pillar and etching deep lines into the stone. Rubies that cascaded down the side in a crimson wave before collecting in a pool of fire and the darkest of night.
“Belladonna,” I whispered.
“She is unknown as of yet. It is unclear who she will become as the Baron. Her pillar will change over time.”
Finally, I turned to her. This woman who sold kafe and whose wrinkled hands looked bitten with age and cold. “Who are you?” I finally asked.
“That is a question far more complicated than what we have time for,” she told me. “Just know that I am not your enemy. I am not your friend. My sisters and I are simply the force in which the told and untold exist.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Are you the Gatekeeper?”
With a withered hand, she pointed to a pillar. It was glowing softly with the green tinged blue light that I had seen the gate at Hazel’s form from. But the deep crackling gold wove within it as well. Keys cascaded down the sides of the pillar and when I listened closely I could hear them clinking together as they struggled to find the locks that they belonged to.
I shook my head as I turned back to Neve. “We are searching for the Gatekeeper. Will this tell me who they are?” I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to show me. Only that this was the closest I had come to answers. I could feel it thrumming within my own blood and the urge to call out to forces unknown was nearly unbearable.
“The Gatekeeper has been broken for many years,” Neve said with a sigh. “I have seen the pillar change despite the job staying stagnant.”
“So it’s the same person. Has it been the same person since Malcolm Albright died? Do you know where they might even be?”
Head cocked to the side, she listened to the frantic tone of my voice as I edged closer and closer to the truth. When her hand dipped into the lavender water of the churning well, I watched as it swirled beneath the chromatic surface, bringing up an orb of smoke. “I will watch over you,” she said.
I backed away. “What are you doing?”
“Providing you with someone that can actually give you answers.” Breathing, she let the puff of smoke go. It swirled around my head and before I could speak, I felt my limbs grow heavy as I sunk down onto a growing bed of moss.
[[Next|Chapter 11 3]]
“I was someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I told her. Whatever my old life had been, at some point I had come to the conclusion that there was no grand purpose. Sometimes, bad things just happened, no matter what kind of person you were. I was beginning to believe, despite all the theories and the discourse that had revolved around me upon my arrival in the market, I had just been somewhere that I shouldn’t have been.
Neve, snorted at the answer though, looking at me with a pinched look on her face while clucking her tongue. She didn’t move to counter me, however, as we continued to walk.
The moss laden tunnel didn’t go on for long before another door appeared and we stepped through into a vaulted ruin. A deep well sat in the middle, bubbling with lavender smoke while the walls looked as if they were made up of various sized pillars. Nine to be exact. Each one with differing figures carved into their stone. A snake wrapped around one with a vine of flowers adorning its back. It moved slowly, its scales shimmering as it ascended towards the ceiling before starting all over again on a constant loop. Another was covered in barnacles, conch shells crying out with the sound of the ocean while two selkies played at the base of the waves that frothed against the limestone. Another was all glittering light that expanded out far beyond what I could even imagine, a harmonious song humming form within but whose edges were blackened with corruption.
I looked around in wonder at the monolithic structures before us, not even realizing I had come to the well.
“These represent the Barons,” I said.
Neve nodded.
There was one that looked as if it were still forming. Something that had recently crumbled and was slowly being rebuilt. Veins of soft red shot through the surface like blood, feeding the pillar and etching deep lines into the stone. Rubies that cascaded down the side in a crimson wave before collecting in a pool of fire and the darkest of night.
“Belladonna,” I whispered.
“She is unknown as of yet. It is unclear who she will become as the Baron. Her pillar will change over time.”
Finally, I turned to her. This woman who sold kafe and whose wrinkled hands looked bitten with age and cold. “Who are you?” I finally asked.
“That is a question far more complicated than what we have time for,” she told me. “Just know that I am not your enemy. I am not your friend. My sisters and I are simply the force in which the told and untold exist.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Are you the Gatekeeper?”
With a withered hand, she pointed to a pillar. It was glowing softly with the green tinged blue light that I had seen the gate at Hazel’s form from. But the deep crackling gold wove within it as well. Keys cascaded down the sides of the pillar and when I listened closely I could hear them clinking together as they struggled to find the locks that they belonged to.
I shook my head as I turned back to Neve. “We are searching for the Gatekeeper. Will this tell me who they are?” I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to show me. Only that this was the closest I had come to answers. I could feel it thrumming within my own blood and the urge to call out to forces unknown was nearly unbearable.
“The Gatekeeper has been broken for many years,” Neve said with a sigh. “I have seen the pillar change despite the job staying stagnant.”
“So it’s the same person. Has it been the same person since Malcolm Albright died? Do you know where they might even be?”
Head cocked to the side, she listened to the frantic tone of my voice as I edged closer and closer to the truth. When her hand dipped into the lavender water of the churning well, I watched as it swirled beneath the chromatic surface, bringing up an orb of smoke. “I will watch over you,” she said.
I backed away. “What are you doing?”
“Providing you with someone that can actually give you answers.” Breathing, she let the puff of smoke go. It swirled around my head and before I could speak, I felt my limbs grow heavy as I sunk down onto a growing bed of moss.
[[Next|Chapter 11 3]]
“I’ve been trying not to think too much about it.” When I had first arrived, it had been the singular thought that had consumed me. It would keep me up at night and each time I stepped foot in any direction that seemed frivolous or was not directly related to finding out just who exactly I had been, I felt as if I was betraying my old life. In that, lay perfect madness.
So, I had shoved it all aside, hoping that the answer would present itself one day or something would show itself to create a lead. Given where I was at now, I didn’t think that was entirely the wrong move for me.
“Sometimes you are wise to let the answers come to you,” Neve said from in front of me. “Other times you are a fool for waiting.” She didn’t clue me in on which one she thought I was.
The moss laden tunnel didn’t go on for long before another door appeared and we stepped through into a vaulted ruin. A deep well sat in the middle, bubbling with lavender smoke while the walls looked as if they were made up of various sized pillars. Nine to be exact. Each one with differing figures carved into their stone. A snake wrapped around one with a vine of flowers adorning its back. It moved slowly, its scales shimmering as it ascended towards the ceiling before starting all over again on a constant loop. Another was covered in barnacles, conch shells crying out with the sound of the ocean while two selkies played at the base of the waves that frothed against the limestone. Another was all glittering light that expanded out far beyond what I could even imagine, a harmonious song humming form within but whose edges were blackened with corruption.
I looked around in wonder at the monolithic structures before us, not even realizing I had come to the well.
“These represent the Barons,” I said.
Neve nodded.
There was one that looked as if it were still forming. Something that had recently crumbled and was slowly being rebuilt. Veins of soft red shot through the surface like blood, feeding the pillar and etching deep lines into the stone. Rubies that cascaded down the side in a crimson wave before collecting in a pool of fire and the darkest of night.
“Belladonna,” I whispered.
“She is unknown as of yet. It is unclear who she will become as the Baron. Her pillar will change over time.”
Finally, I turned to her. This woman who sold kafe and whose wrinkled hands looked bitten with age and cold. “Who are you?” I finally asked.
“That is a question far more complicated than what we have time for,” she told me. “Just know that I am not your enemy. I am not your friend. My sisters and I are simply the force in which the told and untold exist.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Are you the Gatekeeper?”
With a withered hand, she pointed to a pillar. It was glowing softly with the green tinged blue light that I had seen the gate at Hazel’s form from. But the deep crackling gold wove within it as well. Keys cascaded down the sides of the pillar and when I listened closely I could hear them clinking together as they struggled to find the locks that they belonged to.
I shook my head as I turned back to Neve. “We are searching for the Gatekeeper. Will this tell me who they are?” I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to show me. Only that this was the closest I had come to answers. I could feel it thrumming within my own blood and the urge to call out to forces unknown was nearly unbearable.
“The Gatekeeper has been broken for many years,” Neve said with a sigh. “I have seen the pillar change despite the job staying stagnant.”
“So it’s the same person. Has it been the same person since Malcolm Albright died? Do you know where they might even be?”
Head cocked to the side, she listened to the frantic tone of my voice as I edged closer and closer to the truth. When her hand dipped into the lavender water of the churning well, I watched as it swirled beneath the chromatic surface, bringing up an orb of smoke. “I will watch over you,” she said.
I backed away. “What are you doing?”
“Providing you with someone that can actually give you answers.” Breathing, she let the puff of smoke go. It swirled around my head and before I could speak, I felt my limbs grow heavy as I sunk down onto a growing bed of moss.
[[Next|Chapter 11 3]]
I opened my eyes to the market. The Spice District with all its stalls and the decadent smells of food, were laid out before me. But the people were gone. The steam still billowed over boiling pots and cups and platters were placed delicatley, waiting for their patrons, but the wanderers that milled about and made the street lively, were nowhere to be found. Overhead, the lanterns were grey and hazy, wrapped in a smoke filled cloud. Their light dripped from within them, casting the world in a murky canvas of smeared paint.
“I’ve waited so long for you.”
My head whipped towards the voice, it somehow sounded incredibly loud in the otherwise eerie quiet. A man leaned against the wall, boots crossed at the ankle and arms across his chest. Thick strands of dark hair were pulled back from his face aside from the few that framed his hazel eyes. He wore soft looking linen pants of black with a loose cut shirt that showed off the musculature of his arm where tattoos peeked from beneath the sleeves.
He was smiling at me. One of those knowing smirks. Blinking to clear the haze, I felt something like a whoosh of breath fall from me.
“Malcolm.”
He pushed off the wall, coming to stand before me. “Hey, Lamplight.”
I paused at the familiarity in which he said the words. It felt right somehow. Like an extra piece of the puzzle that fell into place.
[[Lamplight?]]
[[You are supposed to be asleep]]
[[Do you know me?]]“Lamplight?” I asked, the name falling from my lips in a gentle roll. He smirked, looking up towards the lanterns, then back at me.
There was something so familiar about him. A welcoming sight that I hadn’t known was missing. There was a draw that I couldn’t explain and I knew I should be scared or wary of it but I found myself staring at him instead, trying to figure out how he fit into the strange journey I had gone on thus far.
“Would you like to walk?” he asked.
“I would like answers.”
“I think you’re about to have more answers than you know what to do with.” He gestured towards the empty streets. “First being, what this all is.”
“What this is,” I said, “how you are here and why?” They were good jumping off points I supposed.
As we began down the street, I looked around. Everything looked the same. It was truly as if the people had just been plucked from the streets itself. Everything but the lanterns that is. They were dull in comparison to the ones that swayed over the districts I had come to know.
“Consider this a liminal space of the market,” Malcolm started. “The area in which the dead can sometimes travel, if they know how. The place where magic curls and memories are not forgotten. Excess energy that has to get tossed somewhere, is tossed right here.”
I looked around me, trying to come to terms with a market within a market. An extra layer that was tucked away within all the paths I had walked. When I turned back to Malcolm, he winced a little in sympathy.
“We might be starting too big,” he said. “Did Neve explain anything?”
“No. She led me through a moss tunnel and then spit lavender smoke in my eyes.”
Malcolm laughed, the sound deep and warm. “That actually sounds about right,” he said. “She is one of the Barons. Her role is a bit more unique than the others though. Ever heard of the Fates? Three sisters?”
“There was only one of her.”
“Sisters are probably off doing things. It was rare I saw them all together. I mainly dealt with Neve. Until I became the Gatekeeper. Then I had to stop going around a bit due to the ‘rules’.”
My mind was reeling. Things we had danced around, situations that we were not allowed to speak of due to these so-called rules that seemed ambiguous at best, were suddenly being tossed around by a man who had been dead a day ago and was now walking with me through a liminal state of memory.
“Oh, whoa. Hey, Lamplight. You got to breathe, okay?”
[[Nope. This was all too much. The last day had been too much]]
[[Take deep and shallow breaths and gain control of yourself]]
I looked behind me, as if I would see the upper tier of Hazel’s shop and the man curled within the bed. “You are supposed to be asleep,” I said, taking a step towards him.
“I am,” he confirmed. “In a way.”
“What way is that?”
“The not forever kind.”
There was something so familiar about him. A welcoming sight that I hadn’t known was missing. There was a draw that I couldn’t explain and I knew I should be scared or wary of it but I found myself staring at him instead, trying to figure out how he fit into the strange journey I had gone on thus far.
“Would you like to walk?” he asked.
“I would like answers.”
“I think you’re about to have more answers than you know what to do with.” He gestured towards the empty streets. “First being, what this all is.”
“What this is,” I said, “how you are here and why?” They were good jumping off points I supposed.
As we began down the street, I looked around. Everything looked the same. It was truly as if the people had just been plucked from the streets itself. Everything but the lanterns that is. They were dull in comparison to the ones that swayed over the districts I had come to know.
“Consider this a liminal space of the market,” Malcolm started. “The area in which the dead can sometimes travel, if they know how. The place where magic curls and memories are not forgotten. Excess energy that has to get tossed somewhere, is tossed right here.”
I looked around me, trying to come to terms with a market within a market. An extra layer that was tucked away within all the paths I had walked. When I turned back to Malcolm, he winced a little in sympathy.
“We might be starting too big,” he said. “Did Neve explain anything?”
“No. She led me through a moss tunnel and then spit lavender smoke in my eyes.”
Malcolm laughed, the sound deep and warm. “That actually sounds about right,” he said. “She is one of the Barons. Her role is a bit more unique than the others though. Ever heard of the Fates? Three sisters?”
“There was only one of her.”
“Sisters are probably off doing things. It was rare I saw them all together. I mainly dealt with Neve. Until I became the Gatekeeper. Then I had to stop going around a bit due to the ‘rules’.”
My mind was reeling. Things we had danced around, situations that we were not allowed to speak of due to these so-called rules that seemed ambiguous at best, were suddenly being tossed around by a man who had been dead a day ago and was now walking with me through a liminal state of memory.
“Oh, whoa. Hey, Lamplight. You got to breathe, okay?”
[[Nope. This was all too much. The last day had been too much]]
[[Take deep and shallow breaths and gain control of yourself]]
“Do you know me?” I asked.
Hands shoved inside his pockets, he looked upwards towards the lanterns, then back at me. “In a way.”
There was something so familiar about him. A welcoming sight that I hadn’t known was missing. There was a draw that I couldn’t explain and I knew I should be scared or wary of it but I found myself staring at him instead, trying to figure out how he fit into the strange journey I had gone on thus far.
“Would you like to walk?” he asked.
“I would like answers.”
“I think you’re about to have more answers than you know what to do with.” He gestured towards the empty streets. “First being, what this all is.”
“What this is,” I said, “how you are here and why?” They were good jumping off points I supposed.
As we began down the street, I looked around. Everything looked the same. It was truly as if the people had just been plucked from the streets itself. Everything but the lanterns that is. They were dull in comparison to the ones that swayed over the districts I had come to know.
“Consider this a liminal space of the market,” Malcolm started. “The area in which the dead can sometimes travel, if they know how. The place where magic curls and memories are not forgotten. Excess energy that has to get tossed somewhere, is tossed right here.”
I looked around me, trying to come to terms with a market within a market. An extra layer that was tucked away within all the paths I had walked. When I turned back to Malcolm, he winced a little in sympathy.
“We might be starting too big,” he said. “Did Neve explain anything?”
“No. She led me through a moss tunnel and then spit lavender smoke in my eyes.”
Malcolm laughed, the sound deep and warm. “That actually sounds about right,” he said. “She is one of the Barons. Her role is a bit more unique than the others though. Ever heard of the Fates? Three sisters?”
“There was only one of her.”
“Sisters are probably off doing things. It was rare I saw them all together. I mainly dealt with Neve. Until I became the Gatekeeper. Then I had to stop going around a bit due to the ‘rules’.”
My mind was reeling. Things we had danced around, situations that we were not allowed to speak of due to these so-called rules that seemed ambiguous at best, were suddenly being tossed around by a man who had been dead a day ago and was now walking with me through a liminal state of memory.
“Oh, whoa. Hey, Lamplight. You got to breathe, okay?”
[[Nope. This was all too much. The last day had been too much]]
[[Take deep and shallow breaths and gain control of yourself]]
My eyes were cinched shut as the world began to swim and the roaring amount of confusion pulsed against me, the headache I had been experiencing blooming into a pressure so profound I couldn’t hear anything else. My knees cracked down onto the cobbled streets, a piercing shatter ricocheting through my bones as I pressed my hands tightly against my head.
Then it was gone.
Panting, I looked up into Malcolm’s deep hazel eyes. He knelt in front of me, wielding magic to swirl around me in a soft display of comfort. I gasped as my chest eased, staring at him wildly. It was too much. All of it had been too much. My entire time within the market was beginning to feel like too much.
“I get it,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Life has a funny way of thrusting responsibility onto people and just assuming we won’t break.”
“Just, what is going on?” I asked him.
Reaching out, he held out his hand, helping me back to my feet. He didn’t let go until I was steady again and gave him a nod. Malcolm was not a tall man by any means but he had a presence about him that filled the room far more than anyone else I had met.
“Let's start with what you would like to know first,” he suggested.
“Are you the Gatekeeper?” It felt like the question I had continued to ask over and over again with no hope of an answer. There was so much secrecy around the person that held that power and yet I was standing right in front of him.
“Not anymore,” he said. “Not that I know of, at least. Maybe while we’re in here?” He looked around, as if he hand’t quite asked himself that question yet. “I can tell you that I want to be. But as for being the current one? I haven’t opened a gate since I died.” Lifting his hand, he brought it down through the air in an arc, as if he intended to open a door. Nothing appeared however. Malcolm only looked at the empty space with a puzzled expression.
“I’m assuming Hazel is responsible for bringing me back?” he asked, dropping his hand.
“She said she made you a promise.”
He smiled, something so much softer. “Yeah.” Shoving his hands back in his pockets, he nodded towards the nondescript alleys we had been heading towards. As we approached they merged into one, giving us a singular path to traverse. “That can’t possibly be all you got for me.”
[[Are you actually alive]]
[[Am I dying?]]
[[None of this feels real]]I sucked in the air around me, squeezing my eyes tightly shut until I saw stars dancing across my vision. It helped though. The little spots of color were calming enough to make me remember that I was still here. That this too, would not break me.
Breathing deeply, I felt my fingers curl against my knees as I waited for the world to right itself again. The look Malcolm gave me was horrified. Full of pain and anger that I didn’t know could exist.
“You haven’t been told anything,” he said in quiet aghast.
I shook my head.
“I am so sorry.” It was said with such simplicity that I couldn’t help but feel the sincerity in his words.
“Just, what is going on?” I asked him.
Reaching out, he held out his hand, helping me back to my feet. He didn’t let go until I was steady again and gave him a nod. Malcolm was not a tall man by any means but he had a presence about him that filled the room far more than anyone else I had met.
“Let's start with what you would like to know first,” he suggested.
“Are you the Gatekeeper?” It felt like the question I had continued to ask over and over again with no hope of an answer. There was so much secrecy around the person that held that power and yet I was standing right in front of him.
“Not anymore,” he said. “Not that I know of, at least. Maybe while we’re in here?” He looked around, as if he hand’t quite asked himself that question yet. “I can tell you that I want to be. But as for being the current one? I haven’t opened a gate since I died.” Lifting his hand, he brought it down through the air in an arc, as if he intended to open a door. Nothing appeared however. Malcolm only looked at the empty space with a puzzled expression.
“I’m assuming Hazel is responsible for bringing me back?” he asked, dropping his hand.
“She said she made you a promise.”
He smiled, something so much softer. “Yeah.” Shoving his hands back in his pockets, he nodded towards the nondescript alleys we had been heading towards. As we approached they merged into one, giving us a singular path to traverse. “That can’t possibly be all you got for me.”
[[Are you actually alive]]
[[Am I dying?]]
[[None of this feels real]]“Are you actually alive?” After the things that Hazel had done, I was afraid that he was nothing more than a spirit. Someone that would wander while his body remained within the bed back at the shop. “It seems like it shouldn’t be possible to bring someone back from the dead. Especially ten years later.”
“As far as I know I’m alive,” he said. “I remember coming through the gate. Seeing Hazel again. I must have passed out after that. It’s when I wandered here. Or, somewhere near here. Things get a little jumbled on this side of the market. It’s easy to get lost.”
“Why though?” I asked. “Why stay in this area when you know you could be safe back at Hazel’s. Awake.”
He shrugged. “Because I didn’t want you wandering this side of the world alone.”
It had been by happenstance that I was in that part of the market today. That I had even met Neve. Hazel had sent me to get Milo which could have been anywhere in the district. Yet, if I was hearing Malcolm correctly, he knew I was going to be here. At this spot. “Was I always going to end up here?”
“According to Neve, yes. And the thought of you trying to make your way through to the answers you need on your own didn’t sit well with me. Hazel just pulled me out a little too early.”
So he knew he had been coming home. The timeline for him was just not what he had hoped for.
“What all do you remember?” I asked, in an effort to keep the conversation moving. It felt like if I paused too long I would become stuck in the mire of this world and the thoughts that threaten to bog me down with it.
“About being dead?” he asked with a raised brow. “Not a lot. I know I was here but I don’t think I remembered who I was. I think we met in person. Once? I remember the mirror at Anemone’s. It’s what jolted me back to consciousness. I’ve been kind of following some people around ever since then, trying to figure out how long I’ve been dead, if the people I knew were still alive. That kind of thing.”
“You followed us?”
He nodded. “It was good to see that Billows was still alive. That Hazel gutted the apothecary into something far more homey than what Lucinda had it. That Milo still danced.”
There was an incredible sadness to it. Malcolm was an outsider looking in these last few weeks, observing everyone but unable to interact. Forever forced to the outside of the window looking in. Both Hazel and Milo had stated separately that it was his worst nightmare. That he hadn’t wanted to be a spirit of the Night Market. I wondered what living that kind of fear would do to a man.
[[Your death may have set something off within the market]]
[[We hoped that bringing you back might mean we had some control over the market]]
[[Do you know what’s happening to the Night Market]]
“Am I dying?” I asked, voice cracking. It had been something I had wondered for a while now. If the reason I was here was because I had ended life somewhere else.
Malcolm stopped walking. His expression a bit funny as he thought about it. “You are,” he said slowly. “But I am hoping that maybe we can fix that.”
My heart stopped, my world tilting to the side. “Was I dying when I first entered the market?”
“Yes,” he said evenly, patiently waiting as I took in each new bit of information.
When I looked around, I saw the way the alleys were beginning to crumble. How figures that I couldn’t quite see floated in and out of the brick, lost in this colorless world. “Is that why I’m here?”
“You’re here for answers,” he repeated to me. “If they were ones you could achieve up top, I think you would have gotten them by now.”
“But people lie,” I said despondently.
“For the most part, people just don’t know when to tell the truth.”
I thought about that. In releation to Bella. In relation to Hazel. Both of them had not wanted to hurt me with the secrets they had but neither of them had known when to let go of the deceit.
“What all do you remember?” I asked, in an effort to keep the conversation moving. It felt like if I paused too long I would become stuck in the mire of this world and the thoughts that threaten to bog me down with it.
“About being dead?” he asked with a raised brow. “Not a lot. I know I was here but I don’t think I remembered who I was. I think we met in person. Once? I remember the mirror at Anemone’s. It’s what jolted me back to consciousness. I’ve been kind of following some people around ever since then, trying to figure out how long I’ve been dead, if the people I knew were still alive. That kind of thing.”
“You followed us?”
He nodded. “It was good to see that Billows was still alive. That Hazel gutted the apothecary into something far more homey than what Lucinda had it. That Milo still danced.”
There was an incredible sadness to it. Malcolm was an outsider looking in these last few weeks, observing everyone but unable to interact. Forever forced to the outside of the window looking in. Both Hazel and Milo had stated separately that it was his worst nightmare. That he hadn’t wanted to be a spirit of the Night Market. I wondered what living that kind of fear would do to a man.
[[Your death may have set something off within the market]]
[[We hoped that bringing you back might mean we had some control over the market]]
[[Do you know what’s happening to the Night Market]]
“This doesn’t feel real.” The nexus point between all realities and a torn world that was shivering beneath the pressure of them all. As if that wasn’t enough, I had now fallen into a gray and desolate area where my skin felt as if it would float away, like little strips of paper that were being torn and tossed to the wind.
“No, I supposed it wouldn’t.” He looked up towards the sky, hands still deep in his pockets. “I want to help you. But I also don’t want to overwhelm your mind. Given how long you have been wandering the market and how much it sounds like you have done, I am both impressed and horrified. No one should have this amount of responsibility thrust upon them. Though, I tend to question the people who also eagerly take it.”
“I just kind of followed along,” I said. I had agreed. I had done this upon my own will. But I had not sought it out. It was as if it was simply what I was just supposed to be doing. It didn’t make the weight of it any more bearable. In fact, in here, it almost felt suffocating.
“What all do you remember?” I asked, in an effort to keep the conversation moving. It felt like if I paused too long I would become stuck in the mire of this world and the thoughts that threaten to bog me down with it.
“About being dead?” he asked with a raised brow. “Not a lot. I know I was here but I don’t think I remembered who I was. I think we met in person. Once? I remember the mirror at Anemone’s. It’s what jolted me back to consciousness. I’ve been kind of following some people around ever since then, trying to figure out how long I’ve been dead, if the people I knew were still alive. That kind of thing.”
“You followed us?”
He nodded. “It was good to see that Billows is still alive. That Hazel has kept her herb garden going. That Milo still dances.”
There was an incredible sadness to it. Malcolm was an outsider looking in these last few weeks, observing everyone but unable to interact. Forever forced to the outside of the window looking in. Both Hazel and Milo had stated separately that it was his worst nightmare. That he hadn’t wanted to be a spirit of the Night Market. I wondered what living that kind of fear would do to a man.
[[Your death may have set something off within the market]]
[[We hoped that bringing you back might mean we had some control over the market]]
[[Do you know what’s happening to the Night Market]]“Your death may have set something off within the market,” I told him. Or, at the very least, Malcolm had been the last bastion keeping eternal darkness at bay.
“The market was dying when I was alive,” he said. “I was trying to figure out how to save it but also why it was suddenly starting to disintegrate. But no matter what I did, these gates would open and if I wasn’t there to close them quick enough, they would continue to stay open, like some sort of festering wound.” He rubbed at his arms, as if to sooth an old ache. “It was awful. Each tear across the market sky felt like death.”
“You felt it?”
He hummed in response. “The Gatekeeper’s job is to protect the market. They are linked to the market itself. So if the market feels pain, so does the Gatekeeper.”
I had been operating under the assumption that the gates would open and close to let people into the market. That the Gatekeeper was responsible for it all. No one's story had even faltered once each time I had asked about this particular Baron's role.
“The Gatekeeper,” he said. “Is made for one reason and one reason only. To protect the market. They can open gates to different worlds, sure, but those gates are so the market can continue to thrive as a whole. So they are not forgotten. But it is a balance. Too many gates open, the market starts to suffer. Too little, and eventually the market with die.” Stopping he turned to me. “The Gatekeeper keeps out the bad, brings in the good, and provides balance for the market themselves. When the market cannot handle what has been given to them, it is the Gatekeeper’s job to take the helm for them so they can rest. Like a blanket, tucking you in at night.”
“But the gates are out of control,” I told them. “They are opening and closing without any sort of discernible reason.” It had been frustrating and terrifying at once to watch. How the world shifted and split and reformed around different segments of the world. All to accommodate the influx of people it took in without being able to hold the wealth of life it now possessed. “At first we were thinking that the Gatekeeper didn’t know who they were or what their job was supposed to be but we have nothing to really support that theory other than there are just far too many gates that are starting to open.”
“At what kind of rate?”
“I don’t know for certain. Gabriel, the uh- the Warden of the Velvet Guard, I think he has a better idea than I do but I’ve seen a couple open since I’ve been here.”
“So the market has gone awry. Trying to either push something out or trying to save something that is knocking on the other side.”
“So does that mean the market is opening the gates?”
He held up his hands, halting the spiral of thoughts that began to spin out before me. “I’m talking out loud on that one. I don’t actually know. I won’t be able to until I can get out of that bed at my sister's and take a look around and even then I’m not sure what all I will be able to do if I don’t have my Baron powers.”
[[How do we get out of here?]]
[[How do we get you your powers then?]]
[[Is there any other way to tell what is going on with the market?]]“We hoped that bringing you back might shed some light on events,” I told him. “But, we also hoped that you might be able to help gain control over the market again.”
He looked at me funny, tilting his head to the side. “Control?”
“The gates are opening at random. It’s tearing the world apart.”
“I know,” he said simply. “But if you are hoping to control the market, then you are going about it all wrong. You don’t control something that offers you food and shelter. You respect it. You care for it. If you all were setting out to control the Night Market, well, it’s no wonder you don’t have a lot of the answers you seek.”
“I don’t know if we know what we’re doing,” I told him honestly.
“Well no. I don’t know who would expect you to either. It’s the Gatekeeper's job to keep the market safe. To work in tandem with it. But if that role has been messed up for some time and the mythos surrounding the Gatekeeper is all false rumors spread by children, then why would you know what to do?”
I had been operating under the assumption that the gates would open and close to let people into the market. That the Gatekeeper was responsible for it all. No one's story had even faltered once each time I had asked about this particular Baron's role.
“The Gatekeeper,” he said. “Is made for one reason and one reason only. To protect the market. They can open gates to different worlds, sure, but those gates are so the market can continue to thrive as a whole. So they are not forgotten. But it is a balance. Too many gates open, the market starts to suffer. Too little, and eventually the market with die.” Stopping he turned to me. “The Gatekeeper keeps out the bad, brings in the good, and provides balance for the market themselves. When the market cannot handle what has been given to them, it is the Gatekeeper’s job to take the helm for them so they can rest. Like a blanket, tucking you in at night.”
“But the gates are out of control,” I told them. “They are opening and closing without any sort of discernible reason.” It had been frustrating and terrifying at once to watch. How the world shifted and split and reformed around different segments of the world. All to accommodate the influx of people it took in without being able to hold the wealth of life it now possessed. “At first we were thinking that the Gatekeeper didn’t know who they were or what their job was supposed to be but we have nothing to really support that theory other than there are just far too many gates that are starting to open.”
“At what kind of rate?”
“I don’t know for certain. Gabriel, the uh- the Warden of the Velvet Guard, I think he has a better idea than I do but I’ve seen a couple open since I’ve been here.”
“So the market has gone awry. Trying to either push something out or trying to save something that is knocking on the other side.”
“So does that mean the market is opening the gates?”
He held up his hands, halting the spiral of thoughts that began to spin out before me. “I’m talking out loud on that one. I don’t actually know. I won’t be able to until I can get out of that bed at my sister's and take a look around and even then I’m not sure what all I will be able to do if I don’t have my Baron powers.”
[[How do we get out of here?]]
[[How do we get you your powers then?]]
[[Is there any other way to tell what is going on with the market?]]“Do you know what’s happening to the Night Market?” I asked.
“I know what was happening,” he stated. “But I’m not sure of all the developments since then. But yes, I was actively involved in trying to save the market when I was alive. That’s what a Gatekeeper does.”
“I thought it was opening gates and letting people in and out.”
Malcolm looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “No. We are not the Baron of tourism, as much as it has been toted as such.”
I had been operating under the assumption that the gates would open and close to let people into the market. That the Gatekeeper was responsible for it all. No one's story had even faltered once each time I had asked about this particular Baron's role.
“The Gatekeeper,” he said. “Is made for one reason and one reason only. To protect the market. They can open gates to different worlds, sure, but those gates are so the market can continue to thrive as a whole. So they are not forgotten. But it is a balance. Too many gates open, the market starts to suffer. Too little, and eventually the market with die.” Stopping he turned to me. “The Gatekeeper keeps out the bad, brings in the good, and provides balance for the market themselves. When the market cannot handle what has been given to them, it is the Gatekeeper’s job to take the helm for them so they can rest. Like a blanket, tucking you in at night.”
“But the gates are out of control,” I told them. “They are opening and closing without any sort of discernible reason.” It had been frustrating and terrifying at once to watch. How the world shifted and split and reformed around different segments of the world. All to accommodate the influx of people it took in without being able to hold the wealth of life it now possessed. “At first we were thinking that the Gatekeeper didn’t know who they were or what their job was supposed to be but we have nothing to really support that theory other than there are just far too many gates that are starting to open.”
“At what kind of rate?”
“I don’t know for certain. Gabriel, the uh- the Warden of the Velvet Guard, I think he has a better idea than I do but I’ve seen a couple open since I’ve been here.”
“So the market has gone awry. Trying to either push something out or trying to save something that is knocking on the other side.”
“So does that mean the market is opening the gates?”
He held up his hands, halting the spiral of thoughts that began to spin out before me. “I’m talking out loud on that one. I don’t actually know. I won’t be able to until I can get out of that bed at my sister's and take a look around and even then I’m not sure what all I will be able to do if I don’t have my Baron powers.”
[[How do we get out of here?]]
[[How do we get you your powers then?]]
[[Is there any other way to tell what is going on with the market?]]“Then how do we get out of here?” I asked. So far, Malcolm seemed to have all the answers. Far more than what we had been operating on. We needed for both of us to wake up.
“I have some theories?” He trailed off in a question, his own thoughts rattling against him in a way that scrunched up his brow in soft confusion. “They don’t make a lot of sense right now but I think that’s because I’m still adjusting. Maybe in a few days we could talk about it though?”
A few days. It wasn’t much. Not really at least. Unless you were in a race against time.
“We need to get out of here,” he told me. “But, there is something I want you to know, something you need to know before we leave here, and I think it’s more important that you figure it out instead of being told. But I would like to walk with you on this. If you’ll allow it.”
I couldn’t figure out what else there possibly was that I needed to know. I already felt my head spinning so much with the new uncertainty coupled with the answers that were so easily given. When I turned a corner though, I paused.
The apothecary stood in front of us, the bent chimney pipe pumping out smoke. The garden looked overgrown though and the front gate was gone. I looked around. The path we had taken should not have led us here. We didn’t go down the burnt alley. But as I looked behind us, I saw an entire street lite up with warm lights while hanging baskets overflowed with herbs, lining our path.
The door burst open to the apothecary and a young girl came running out, tears streaking her face. She rushed around the side of the shop, heading down to the creek that I knew had carved a path through the little gully beyond the hill. Silently, Malcolm and I followed her.
[[Next|Chapter 11 4]]
“How do we get your powers back?” I asked.
“Kill the Gatekeeper. Which, I’m not really willing to do.” The rule within the market that led to senseless death. I couldn’t blame him. But it also would have been much easier if he had just had his powers.
“We need to get out of here,” he told me. “But, there is something I want you to know, something you need to know before we leave here, and I think it’s more important that you figure it out instead of being told. But I would like to walk with you on this. If you’ll allow it.”
I couldn’t figure out what else there possibly was that I needed to know. I already felt my head spinning so much with the new uncertainty coupled with the answers that were so easily given. When I turned a corner though, I paused.
The apothecary stood in front of us, the bent chimney pipe pumping out smoke. The garden looked overgrown though and the front gate was gone. I looked around. The path we had taken should not have led us here. We didn’t go down the burnt alley. But as I looked behind us, I saw an entire street lite up with warm lights while hanging baskets overflowed with herbs, lining our path.
The door burst open to the apothecary and a young girl came running out, tears streaking her face. She rushed around the side of the shop, heading down to the creek that I knew had carved a path through the little gully beyond the hill. Silently, Malcolm and I followed her.
[[Next|Chapter 11 4]]
“Is there any other way to tell what is going on with the market?” I asked. It could not possibly boil down to one individual alone, solely responsible for the health and well-being of an entire world.
“I have some theories?” He trailed off in a question, his own thoughts rattling against him in a way that scrunched up his brow in soft confusion. “They don’t make a lot of sense right now but I think that’s because I’m still adjusting. Maybe in a few days we could talk about it though?”
A few days. It wasn’t much. Not really at least. Unless you were in a race against time.
“We need to get out of here,” he told me. “But, there is something I want you to know, something you need to know before we leave here, and I think it’s more important that you figure it out instead of being told. But I would like to walk with you on this. If you’ll allow it.”
I couldn’t figure out what else there possibly was that I needed to know. I already felt my head spinning so much with the new uncertainty coupled with the answers that were so easily given. When I turned a corner though, I paused.
The apothecary stood in front of us, the bent chimney pipe pumping out smoke. The garden looked overgrown though and the front gate was gone. I looked around. The path we had taken should not have led us here. We didn’t go down the burnt alley. But as I looked behind us, I saw an entire street lite up with warm lights while hanging baskets overflowed with herbs, lining our path.
The door burst open to the apothecary and a young girl came running out, tears streaking her face. She rushed around the side of the shop, heading down to the creek that I knew had carved a path through the little gully beyond the hill. Silently, Malcolm and I followed her.
[[Next|Chapter 11 4]]
We found her at the creek's edge crying, Mr. Billows held in her lap. Hazel knelt by the water, cuddling the gray cat close. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I just can’t.”
I looked at Malcolm. His face was calm but I could see the line of his jaw where he clenched his teeth. The Hazel in front of us was not the one I knew. Her hair was down around her shoulders, kept off her face with only a spare piece of ribbon. Her clothes were much more monochromatic than I was used to and the fullness of her cheeks didn’t seem as bright as they were now. She was young. Very young.
“Fourteen,” Malcolm said, as if hearing my thoughts. “I had already moved out. I was young and angry and I should have taken her with me but I didn’t. So she was left with our mother. Lucinda. And it is the biggest regret I have.”
I watched as Hazel buried her face in Billow’s mane, taking a deep breath to get herself under control. When she pulled away, she breathed shakily. “She didn’t mean it,” she whispered to the cat. “We aren’t using you to stoke the fire. Mother just sometimes speaks out of turn. It’s not her fault. I’m just too sensitive.”
Next to me, Malcolm shook his head.
“I shouldn’t have riled her today. I-I should have just cleaned the larder when she asked. I’m sorry you were the one that had to suffer for that. Maybe- maybe you should stay out here for a bit. Just until she cools down.”
I could see it then. A fresh knick on the cat's collar. As if someone had taken a blade to the small creature. When Hazel placed her hand over the back of Billow’s neck, she closed her eyes, trying to heal him. The light was shallow and didn’t ring like I had seen it before. Dropping her head in defeat, she began to cry again, holding the cat close to her.
“Don’t die,” she whispered. “You’re all I have left here. Please don’t leave me.”
With a rush from the creek she faded away, dissolving into a sparkling wave, her tears and echo among the trees.
[[What was that?]]
[[I knew her mother was bad but…]]
[[Please tell me this was not an every day thing]]“What was that?” The image had come and gone so quick that I nearly stumbled at the disintegration of the girl.
“A memory.” Malcolm’s voice was rough and I noticed how careful he was to choose his words. “That’s all there is here. The collective conscious of what the Night Market has seen.”
I shook my head. “But why are we seeing it?” It felt invasive. It felt like peering in on the bits of life that I shouldn’t have been privy too. For the first time since asking him a question, Malcolm didn’t answer. Not in a way that made me believe he was telling me the entirety of the truth.
“You’re seeing these things for perspective,” Malcolm said, voice clear again. “And to gain access to what you might seek. You have to go through a web of time in order to get to the gritty truth of certain situations. This,” he gestured to where Hazel had been kneeling. “Is the path that you’re going to have to walk.”
Turning, I went to tell him no. That there had to be a way to get out of it. But the valley had changed. The rolling green hills of the back area were replaced with a small apartment with natural wood and bright sunlight pouring in from an enchanted window. Hazel sat up on the counter, a cup of tea pressed in her hand, laughing loudly. When I turned to follow her gaze, I saw Malcolm. He didn’t look much different than he did now. He was sitting across the way, hands clasped behind his head, feet up on the coffee table before him.
Next to me, he stood as well, an observer to a life he had once had and one that had been taken from him.
“Tell me about your new job. No more of this,” she dismissed. “I want to hear about the amazing employer that has been able to get you these enchanted windows.”
“I stole the enchanted windows,” he said from his position on the couch.
“You stole one,” she laughed. “I remember because I patched you up. Now what about the other three I suddenly see installed.”
Malcolm grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mal, come on. Tell me. Who am I going to tell? What are you doing? Is it illegal? Is it espionage? Are you going off world?” She was kicking her legs back and forth, the back of her boots banging against the cabinets beneath her with a dull thud.
“You have had far too much sugar in your herbal this morning, sister dear.”
“I’m just excited for you.” At that, her expression changed a bit. “You seem happier,” she said, softening her tone. “I like that. I’ve always hoped that… well it doesn’t matter what I have hoped. You seem a lot happier.”
Malcolm shifted in his seat. “Hazel, this new job I have, it’s a bit more dangerous,” he commented. “I don’t want you involved, okay?”
Hazel frowned. “More dangerous than running around with Milo and taking opposite jobs just to mess with each other?”
“That wasn’t dangerous. That was just fun. But this one, it’s a real job. It could actually do something for the world.”
Hopping off the counter, Hazel set her tea aside. Without preamble, she walked to him and sat down on the couch. His arm was around her shoulder almost unconsciously. “Malcolm, I have been with you through everything. And you me. You don’t have to face whatever you’re doing alone. You know that, right?”
He didn’t respond. “I’m doing this for you. For us. This new job is going to offer us a life we never had.”
Hazel frowned. “I like the life we’ve had. Because you’ve always been by my side. How can I regret that?” The words were sweet but it was clear that Malcolm thought far differently. Anger swam within his hazel orbs, speaking of the life that had brought them both here. “Look, keep your secrets. That’s who you are. But if things get tough, just because I’m the younger one doesn’t mean I won’t be there if you need me. I’ll always pull you back home, Mal. I promise.”
Leaning forward, Malcolm planted a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you,” he told her. “No matter what happens, I am glad you are my sister.”
She punched him in the stomach. “Sap.” But I could see the grin and how much she appreciated his words.
As the apartment faded away, I looked towards Malcolm, the current one. “You had just become the Gatekeeper then?”
He nodded. “She didn’t know what I was doing until a few days before I died. I kept it from her. I didn’t want her to be a target. Funnily enough, she still became one.”
“Kavatti died,” I blurted out. “Belladonna Malady killed her.”
The news didn’t seem to surprise him. I would have thought that the death of the woman who ended his life would bring him more joy. “I wonder if she’s actually dead,” he mused.
“I saw it.” The blood had splattered the wall and the floor as Belladonna had ripped her apart.
“Doesn’t mean she’s dead.” Nodding towards a winding path, he motioned for us to move on. “How was she? Honestly. How was Hazel while I was gone?”
[[Not good]]
[[She missed you]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[I am hopeful she's doing better. I tried to help]]<</if>>I blinked at the spot Hazel and Billows had once been. They had looked so real. Bright and vivid. As if I could reach out and touch them. Shaking my head, I felt myself go numb, the brief window into the past not one I should have ever seen.
“I knew her mother was bad,” I told him. “But I didn’t think she was like this.”
“That was the least of what Lucinda did,” Malcolm said softly. “I never knew the full extent, but I have a feeling it is far worse than she has ever told me.” Clearing his throat, I watched as he stared at the area in which Hazel had run from. The desire to go after the spectral image of the past, strong.
“You’re seeing these things for perspective,” Malcolm said, voice clear again. “And to gain access to what you might seek. You have to go through a web of time in order to get to the gritty truth of certain situations. This,” he gestured to where Hazel had been kneeling. “Is the path that you’re going to have to walk.”
Turning, I went to tell him no. That there had to be a way to get out of it. But the valley had changed. The rolling green hills of the back area were replaced with a small apartment with natural wood and bright sunlight pouring in from an enchanted window. Hazel sat up on the counter, a cup of tea pressed in her hand, laughing loudly. When I turned to follow her gaze, I saw Malcolm. He didn’t look much different than he did now. He was sitting across the way, hands clasped behind his head, feet up on the coffee table before him.
Next to me, he stood as well, an observer to a life he had once had and one that had been taken from him.
“Tell me about your new job. No more of this,” she dismissed. “I want to hear about the amazing employer that has been able to get you these enchanted windows.”
“I stole the enchanted windows,” he said from his position on the couch.
“You stole one,” she laughed. “I remember because I patched you up. Now what about the other three I suddenly see installed.”
Malcolm grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mal, come on. Tell me. Who am I going to tell? What are you doing? Is it illegal? Is it espionage? Are you going off world?” She was kicking her legs back and forth, the back of her boots banging against the cabinets beneath her with a dull thud.
“You have had far too much sugar in your herbal this morning, sister dear.”
“I’m just excited for you.” At that, her expression changed a bit. “You seem happier,” she said, softening her tone. “I like that. I’ve always hoped that… well it doesn’t matter what I have hoped. You seem a lot happier.”
Malcolm shifted in his seat. “Hazel, this new job I have, it’s a bit more dangerous,” he commented. “I don’t want you involved, okay?”
Hazel frowned. “More dangerous than running around with Milo and taking opposite jobs just to mess with each other?”
“That wasn’t dangerous. That was just fun. But this one, it’s a real job. It could actually do something for the world.”
Hopping off the counter, Hazel set her tea aside. Without preamble, she walked to him and sat down on the couch. His arm was around her shoulder almost unconsciously. “Malcolm, I have been with you through everything. And you me. You don’t have to face whatever you’re doing alone. You know that, right?”
He didn’t respond. “I’m doing this for you. For us. This new job is going to offer us a life we never had.”
Hazel frowned. “I like the life we’ve had. Because you’ve always been by my side. How can I regret that?” The words were sweet but it was clear that Malcolm thought far differently. Anger swam within his hazel orbs, speaking of the life that had brought them both here. “Look, keep your secrets. That’s who you are. But if things get tough, just because I’m the younger one doesn’t mean I won’t be there if you need me. I’ll always pull you back home, Mal. I promise.”
Leaning forward, Malcolm planted a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you,” he told her. “No matter what happens, I am glad you are my sister.”
She punched him in the stomach. “Sap.” But I could see the grin and how much she appreciated his words.
As the apartment faded away, I looked towards Malcolm, the current one. “You had just become the Gatekeeper then?”
He nodded. “She didn’t know what I was doing until a few days before I died. I kept it from her. I didn’t want her to be a target. Funnily enough, she still became one.”
“Kavatti died,” I blurted out. “Belladonna Malady killed her.”
The news didn’t seem to surprise him. I would have thought that the death of the woman who ended his life would bring him more joy. “I wonder if she’s actually dead,” he mused.
“I saw it.” The blood had splattered the wall and the floor as Belladonna had ripped her apart.
“Doesn’t mean she’s dead.” Nodding towards a winding path, he motioned for us to move on. “How was she? Honestly. How was Hazel while I was gone?”
[[Not good]]
[[She missed you]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[I am hopeful she's doing better. I tried to help]]<</if>>“Please tell me this was not an everyday thing,” I managed to say. Hazel didn’t speak ill of her mother, despite everyone else's opinions. But I had always got the feeling that her childhood wasn’t one full of love. If Lucinda had threatened to kill her cat, I shuddered to think of what else the woman was capable of doing.
“I don’t know how bad it got,” Malcolm said, clearing the rawness from his throat. “I can suspect and possibly surmise but in the end, I think Hazel hid a lot of it from me.”
Hazel wouldn’t have wanted to cause him pain. The brother who left to better his own life would not be burdened with the sorrows of her own. I knew Hazel and knew this was exactly something she would have done and it made every ounce of me wish to help her. Hazel had been lost for far too long.
“You’re seeing these things for perspective,” Malcolm said, voice clear again. “And to gain access to what you might seek. You have to go through a web of time in order to get to the gritty truth of certain situations. This,” he gestured to where Hazel had been kneeling. “Is the path that you’re going to have to walk.”
Turning, I went to tell him no. That there had to be a way to get out of it. But the valley had changed. The rolling green hills of the back area were replaced with a small apartment with natural wood and bright sunlight pouring in from an enchanted window. Hazel sat up on the counter, a cup of tea pressed in her hand, laughing loudly. When I turned to follow her gaze, I saw Malcolm. He didn’t look much different than he did now. He was sitting across the way, hands clasped behind his head, feet up on the coffee table before him.
Next to me, he stood as well, an observer to a life he had once had and one that had been taken from him.
“Tell me about your new job. No more of this,” she dismissed. “I want to hear about the amazing employer that has been able to get you these enchanted windows.”
“I stole the enchanted windows,” he said from his position on the couch.
“You stole one,” she laughed. “I remember because I patched you up. Now what about the other three I suddenly see installed.”
Malcolm grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mal, come on. Tell me. Who am I going to tell? What are you doing? Is it illegal? Is it espionage? Are you going off world?” She was kicking her legs back and forth, the back of her boots banging against the cabinets beneath her with a dull thud.
“You have had far too much sugar in your herbal this morning, sister dear.”
“I’m just excited for you.” At that, her expression changed a bit. “You seem happier,” she said, softening her tone. “I like that. I’ve always hoped that… well it doesn’t matter what I have hoped. You seem a lot happier.”
Malcolm shifted in his seat. “Hazel, this new job I have, it’s a bit more dangerous,” he commented. “I don’t want you involved, okay?”
Hazel frowned. “More dangerous than running around with Milo and taking opposite jobs just to mess with each other?”
“That wasn’t dangerous. That was just fun. But this one, it’s a real job. It could actually do something for the world.”
Hopping off the counter, Hazel set her tea aside. Without preamble, she walked to him and sat down on the couch. His arm was around her shoulder almost unconsciously. “Malcolm, I have been with you through everything. And you me. You don’t have to face whatever you’re doing alone. You know that, right?”
He didn’t respond. “I’m doing this for you. For us. This new job is going to offer us a life we never had.”
Hazel frowned. “I like the life we’ve had. Because you’ve always been by my side. How can I regret that?” The words were sweet but it was clear that Malcolm thought far differently. Anger swam within his hazel orbs, speaking of the life that had brought them both here. “Look, keep your secrets. That’s who you are. But if things get tough, just because I’m the younger one doesn’t mean I won’t be there if you need me. I’ll always pull you back home, Mal. I promise.”
Leaning forward, Malcolm planted a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you,” he told her. “No matter what happens, I am glad you are my sister.”
She punched him in the stomach. “Sap.” But I could see the grin and how much she appreciated his words.
As the apartment faded away, I looked towards Malcolm, the current one. “You had just become the Gatekeeper then?”
He nodded. “She didn’t know what I was doing until a few days before I died. I kept it from her. I didn’t want her to be a target. Funnily enough, she still became one.”
“Kavatti died,” I blurted out. “Belladonna Malady killed her.”
The news didn’t seem to surprise him. I would have thought that the death of the woman who ended his life would bring him more joy. “I wonder if she’s actually dead,” he mused.
“I saw it.” The blood had splattered the wall and the floor as Belladonna had ripped her apart.
“Doesn’t mean she’s dead.” Nodding towards a winding path, he motioned for us to move on. “How was she? Honestly. How was Hazel while I was gone?”
[[Not good]]
[[She missed you]]
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[I am hopeful she's doing better. I tried to help]]<</if>>Hazel had wanted her brother back more than anything in this world. Her every action was controlled by it. <<if $hazelro == "true">>The second we had begun to get closer, I watched it consume her. Taking her over like a disease until the willow branches grew from the blood she had shed, and the dead screamed outside her door.<</if>> When Malcolm had died, I suspected a part of her life stopped. She no longer left the apothecary. She no longer tried to make connections. She existed, giving back to the world but hiding from it at the same time.
“Not good,” I told him. I understood her actions but I was unsure at what cost they had been at. Hazel was the woman who had taken me in without hesitation. Who never once batted an eye at helping someone. Yet, when it came to Malcolm, I wondered if we had given her the same amount of consideration that she gave back to the world.
“I suspect getting me home was not pretty,” Malcolm said, his voice strained. Pulling someone back from the dead I doubted ever was.
Turning a corner, the ocean rolled before us. White caps fell across smoke tinted waves as the night sky above was printed with silver stars. My feet dug into the sand below, bits of broken shell curling between my toes. Malcolm was staring out at the ocean, waiting, directing my gaze to the depth that crashed far out at sea. There was a light that seemed much brighter in the sky. Silver and falling with a gaining speed until it crashed with a boom out into the ocean itself.
I watched as several stars above began to wink out, shutting their eyes as if to turn their backs on the struggle out at sea. Cresting above the water, someone thrashed about, arms reaching towards the heavens for help before being dragged back under again.
[[We have to go help]]
[[Sit and watch. I knew this was another memory]]Hazel had wanted her brother back more than anything in this world. Her every action was controlled by it. <<if $hazelro == "true">>The second we had begun to get closer, I watched it consume her. Taking her over like a disease until the willow branches grew from the blood she had shed, and the dead screamed outside her door.<</if>> When Malcolm had died, I suspected a part of her life stopped. She no longer left the apothecary. She no longer tried to make connections. She existed, giving back to the world but hiding from it at the same time.
“She missed you,” was all I ended up being able to say. It was the truth but one that didn’t betray what Hazel had done to get him back. That was a conversation between brother and sister and not one that I needed to be privy to.
Turning a corner, the ocean rolled before us. White caps fell across smoke tinted waves as the night sky above was printed with silver stars. My feet dug into the sand below, bits of broken shell curling between my toes. Malcolm was staring out at the ocean, waiting, directing my gaze to the depth that crashed far out at sea. There was a light that seemed much brighter in the sky. Silver and falling with a gaining speed until it crashed with a boom out into the ocean itself.
I watched as several stars above began to wink out, shutting their eyes as if to turn their backs on the struggle out at sea. Cresting above the water, someone thrashed about, arms reaching towards the heavens for help before being dragged back under again.
[[We have to go help]]
[[Sit and watch. I knew this was another memory]]There were moments. Since arriving in the Night Market, I had fallen deeper and deeper into Hazel’s smile. The shape of her hand was something that fit within my own and when it was absent, I missed it dearly. <<if $hazelbreakup == “true”>> It had been stolen from me the last few days. Due to my actions. Due to old hurts she had yet to heal. I wanted her back. I wanted to feel her in my arms, her hands slipping across my back.<</if>>
“I am hopeful she’s doing better,” I said. There was this secret part of me that hoped that her life had been made slightly brighter since I arrived. That the scope of horror she had experienced over the years had diminished with me around.
When I looked at Malcolm, he stared back. One brow raised. “Sounds like you and I are going to have a talk when I wake up.”
I laughed a little. “Incentive for you to wake up then.”
Turning a corner, the ocean rolled before us. White caps fell across smoke tinted waves as the night sky above was printed with silver stars. My feet dug into the sand below, bits of broken shell curling between my toes. Malcolm was staring out at the ocean, waiting, directing my gaze to the depth that crashed far out at sea. There was a light that seemed much brighter in the sky. Silver and falling with a gaining speed until it crashed with a boom out into the ocean itself.
I watched as several stars above began to wink out, shutting their eyes as if to turn their backs on the struggle out at sea. Cresting above the water, someone thrashed about, arms reaching towards the heavens for help before being dragged back under again.
[[We have to go help]]
[[Sit and watch. I knew this was another memory]]Malcolm caught me around the middle as I went to run towards the ocean. “We have to go help,” I yelled out. His hands were not harsh as he guided me away.
“It’s a memory,” he reminded me. “Even if you did manage to get all the way out there, you wouldn’t be able to touch him.”
Frantically, I looked back towards the ocean where the body had disappeared. “Him?” Malcolm only nodded towards a lump that was now a small ways down the beach. I hadn’t even seen the waves sweep him to shore.
Gabriel lay on his back, drenched in sweat and sea, black wings spread out beneath him in twisted and bent shapes. His hair curled across his face as he rolled over, coughing up a shining bit of bile that splattered to the ground with a wet plot. He looked at it for a long time, not understanding, before letting out a guttural scream as he tried to gather it back to him. It pooled in his shaking hands, falling through the cracks of each finger like mercury. Naked, wearing only the sea, he began to shake, his cries echoing out like a wounded animal.
I went to move towards him, passing through where he knelt.
Malcolm’s eyes stayed on him. “The day Gabriel fell, the gate to the Knowing shut down. I don’t know why but him being here closed off the Knowing from us forever.” I looked at the shuddering form of the man kneeling in the rain. His wings were sodden and curled around him in a protective embrace. But I could see the fear in his eyes, the lack of understanding on where he was and what he was doing. When he tried to stand, his legs gave out beneath him, not able to hold the new-found weight in a world that was not his own.
Panicked gasps rasped from his chest as he began clawing his way forward, trying to get out of the rain, the tips of his wings dragging through the mud.
“Do you know what happens to a celestial after they fall?” Malcolm asked quietly.
I thought of Elias. I thought of the crazed look behind his eyes and the way he had barely been clinging to a shred of his sanity. I didn’t know if Gabriel had ever experienced something similar. The thought of him falling into that hysteria was terrifying.
Swallowing, I looked at Malcolm. “I know only a bit.” I had only seen Elias. It scared me to think that all the fallen could turn out like him.
“They go mad. They only have the grace they held at the time of their plummet. Once it is gone, they succumb to madness. The irony of it all, is they only know how to help. They use their grace to commit miracles. To save others. A celestial falling into a cesspool such as the Night Market is nothing more than a slow death. One in which the Knowing gets to watch.”
Gabriel curled under a nearby rock, huddling his legs towards himself as he looked wildly out at the crashing ocean. His eyes burned bright silver, a despondent ringing coming from him when he opened his mouth to speak. He was looking up at the cosmos, towards the swirling miasma that twisted in the sky. I couldn’t understand what he was saying but I could see the intent within his terror filled gaze.
“He’s begging,” I said numbly. “Asking for a way home.”
But no one was around to listen to his pleas.
Turning away, I wrapped my arms low on my waist. Coming to terms with the strength that I had always seen, compared to the man that he was when he first arrived, hurt. It left an ache in me for the pain that he so carefully kept away. I wondered what happened to his wings. If they were still there. Or if it was more likely they had fallen away, along with his grace.
“He didn’t go mad,” I told Malcolm, for some reason I needed to state that out loud. Gabriel had beat the odds. He had fallen into the market, confused and alone just like me, and he had beat the odds. I could as well.
“No. He was saved,” Malcolm said. “Someone cared enough to save him.”
[[Next|Chapter 11 5]]
I flinched as I watched the body disappear beneath the raging depths of the ocean. It was a memory. This was just another memory. It did not make watching the body drown any easier. But when Malcolm bumped me, directing my eyes towards a lump further down the beach. I breathed easier. And while I had already suspected who would be before us, I was still shocked by what I could see.
Gabriel lay on his back, drenched in sweat and sea, black wings spread out beneath him in twisted and bent shapes. His hair curled across his face as he rolled over, coughing up a shining bit of bile that splattered to the ground with a wet plot. He looked at it for a long time, not understanding, before letting out a guttural scream as he tried to gather it back to him. It pooled in his shaking hands, falling through the cracks of each finger like mercury. Naked, wearing only the sea, he began to shake, his cries echoing out like a wounded animal.
I went to move towards him, passing through where he knelt.
Malcolm’s eyes stayed on him. “The day Gabriel fell, the gate to the Knowing shut down. I don’t know why but him being here closed off the Knowing from us forever.” I looked at the shuddering form of the man kneeling in the rain. His wings were sodden and curled around him in a protective embrace. But I could see the fear in his eyes, the lack of understanding on where he was and what he was doing. When he tried to stand, his legs gave out beneath him, not able to hold the new-found weight in a world that was not his own.
Panicked gasps rasped from his chest as he began clawing his way forward, trying to get out of the rain, the tips of his wings dragging through the mud.
“Do you know what happens to a celestial after they fall?” Malcolm asked quietly.
I thought of Elias. I thought of the crazed look behind his eyes and the way he had barely been clinging to a shred of his sanity. I didn’t know if Gabriel had ever experienced something similar. The thought of him falling into that hysteria was terrifying.
Swallowing, I looked at Malcolm. “I know only a bit.” I had only seen Elias. It scared me to think that all the fallen could turn out like him.
“They go mad. They only have the grace they held at the time of their plummet. Once it is gone, they succumb to madness. The irony of it all, is they only know how to help. They use their grace to commit miracles. To save others. A celestial falling into a cesspool such as the Night Market is nothing more than a slow death. One in which the Knowing gets to watch.”
Gabriel curled under a nearby rock, huddling his legs towards himself as he looked wildly out at the crashing ocean. His eyes burned bright silver, a despondent ringing coming from him when he opened his mouth to speak. He was looking up at the cosmos, towards the swirling miasma that twisted in the sky. I couldn’t understand what he was saying but I could see the intent within his terror filled gaze.
“He’s begging,” I said numbly. “Asking for a way home.”
But no one was around to listen to his pleas.
Turning away, I wrapped my arms low on my waist. Coming to terms with the strength that I had always seen, compared to the man that he was when he first arrived, hurt. It left an ache in me for the pain that he so carefully kept away. I wondered what happened to his wings. If they were still there. Or if it was more likely they had fallen away, along with his grace.
“He didn’t go mad,” I told Malcolm, for some reason I needed to state that out loud. Gabriel had beat the odds. He had fallen into the market, confused and alone just like me, and he had beat the odds. I could as well.
“No. He was saved,” Malcolm said. “Someone cared enough to save him.”
[[Next|Chapter 11 5]]
The crackling fire was warm as I looked up into a small room of deep greens and purples with a black fireplace and a blue tip flame simmering within the hearth. A woman lounged on the rug before the fire, lying on the flat of her back with her chestnut hair spanned about her. She held a book in her hands, holding it above her face as she mouthed the words she was reading with fervor. When it was plucked from her hands she swung them around to try and reach for her prized possession but swatted only at air.
Gabriel stood over her, his wings gone and his expression far closer to the man that I had come to know. “You need to stop reading by firelight,” he commented.
The woman's nose wrinkled. “I like reading by firelight.” My eyes went wide as I recognized the voice. It was Belladonna’s. A very //very// young Belladonna. Her voice was slightly less controlled than I was used to and the flush to her cheeks made her look entirely different.
“You will ruin your eyes.”
Those chocolate brown eyes rolled with the sentiment as she sat up. Her hair was much longer than it was now and rolled down her back in soft waves. She wore a simple shift dress and had on unlaced boots. It might have been the most shocking part of her appearance.
“Then stop buying me books because you know I will never listen to you. The only way you are going to get your way is if you put an end to your impulse purchases.”
He looked none too impressed with her words as he sat down next to her, the book still firmly in his lap. Belladonna frowned when he refused to banter back with her.
“Did something happen?”
“Nothing of importance.”
She snorted. “Well, that is a lie.”
Looking at the fire, he was perfectly still. It was what Gabriel did when he was deep in thought. That had at least not changed. What maybe surprised me more was that Belladonna sat and listened. “There was a girl in the market today. She was young. New, I think. She was looking for her brother. I attempted to help her but the further we traveled, the more scared she became.”
“The poor thing. How old was she?”
“I did not ask but she looked young. Perhaps six? She was sick. Hurt. I think she may have been poisoned. “ Belladonna’s eyes filled with an unsaid emotion as she reached for something around her neck. An old habit of hers as she went to clutch a pendant that was no longer there. I saw a faint glow from her palm. “I tried to save her,” he said softly. “But I forgot that I couldn’t. I– I had to choose to either use the last of my grace or let her die.” He turned to look at Belladonna, eyes haunted. It went without saying what he had chosen.
Scooting forward, Belladonna rose to her knees, wrapping her arms around him.
“Did I do the right thing?” he asked back.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” she said honestly. “Right and wrong are subjective, Gabriel. We’ve spoken of this. Do you think it was the right thing?”
“No,” he said immediately.
“Then why do it?”
Pulling away, he looked at her. “Because I do not want to fall away,” he confessed. “I have seen the other side briefly. I remember the cold. The loneliness. I don’t ever want to feel that again. But she was so sick, Bells. If I had helped her like she needed, I wouldn’t be returning.”
Taking his hand, Belladonna ran her thumbs across the cracked skin there, like little fissures that soaked into his skin. She nodded at his words, not trying to tell him he was right or wrong but just sitting with him as he felt his actions, the weight that boiled down on him.
[[It was odd to see them so kind]]
[[I felt suddenly angry that they had been so caustic to each other in present day]]
[[I made a mental note to remind them of who they used to be]]It was odd, really. Seeing the two of them so kind. The humanity that was upon Belladonna was something to unpack all in itself, but seeing the two of them caring, was a far different story than what I had been privy to thus far. Their biting words of the present day in juxtaposition to the soft care they whispered here, alone with just each other. They felt at odds. I felt almost uncomfortable observing it without their permission.
It became clear to me though, that what I was seeing wasn’t the actions of two lovers. They were not two people who were coming together out of romance, but instead, they were two people who shared a deep bond. A bond born of friendship and shared strife. It was sad to think that that bond was severed due to their own actions.
Then the scene changed. Instead of the two of them kneeling together it was Belladonna coming through the door, her hair bright red now, her lips stained crimson and the life having been drained from her.
“That bitch,” she muttered.
Gabriel looked up from where he had been sitting with a frown.
“Kavatti. Do you know what she did? She asked me to kneel today. To bow in front of her and the others and ask for penance for speaking out against her. I’m her damn spy, Gabriel. If I have information, which she is clearly too dumb to understand, it is my job to speak against her.”
Standing, Gabriel went over to her, guiding her towards the fire and sitting her down on a deep purple lounge. The anger rolled through the room in that familiar flutter of wings that I often associated with Belladonna’s heightened emotions. Though this time, I could see the curl of them in the corners and the way they pressed down, making the air thick with the scent of stale blood.
“You need to leave there, Bella. There is no point to staying.”
“No point to staying? She //owns// me, Gabriel. What else am I supposed to do? If I walk out into this world now she will send everyone after me. Do you know what happened after she made me kneel? They laughed, Gabriel. They laughed as I knelt before her and kissed her shoes and…”
Blood dripped down her cheeks in a mimicry of tears. Ones she tried to push away. I had no doubt in my mind that they were ones born out of anger and frustration rather than true sadness.
“Leave this,” Gabriel begged. “Do not stay by her side. Especially after her betrayal. We can figure another way. This does not have to be her life. I will protect you.”
Belladonna’s look softened, her shoulders slumping. “You want to go around protecting a vampire for the rest of your days? A celestial protecting an abomination?”
“You are not an abomination,” he snapped. “And if that is what is required of me, you know I will do it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“And you shouldn’t have had to become this,” he told her gently.
She smiled bitterly at that. “That’s why we work so well together, right? We’re both self-sacrificing idiots who get taken advantage of.” Shaking her head, she squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, pet. I shouldn’t be this way.”
“Drop the act, Bells,” he whispered to her. “Not with me.”
Her smile fell. “I just don’t know how to be strong without it.”
He nodded in understanding and said nothing more. Instead, he sat next to her, digging something out of his inner coat pocket. “I found you a new book today.” It was no bigger than his palm but it brought a genuine smile to her face.”
“You may be my only true friend, Gabriel,” she whispered to him.
“It’s because I see you for who you are.”
She smiled, a bitter edge to her lips. “Now I just need to get you to see yourself as something more.”
The scene faded before he could answer.
“Tell me,” Malcolm said. “Did they get better or worse?”
[[I have never seen them like that]]
[[Worse]]
[[Hopefully they are working on it]]Anger coursed through me. This is where the two of them had come from and yet in the present day they could barely manage a civil conversation, let alone be in the same room with each other. What they were here, what I was observing, was far more beneficial than the constant snipping and caustic attitudes towards each other when they were born from old hurts of their own making. Seeing the two of them in the past, seeing them be soft and greeting each other as equals in understanding, made me livid at the people they were today.
It became clear to me though, that what I was seeing wasn’t the actions of two lovers. They were not two people who were coming together out of romance, but instead, they were two people who shared a deep bond. A bond born of friendship and shared strife. The anger I felt over the two of them severing that bond over misunderstandings boiled deep within my gut.
Then the scene changed. Instead of the two of them kneeling together it was Belladonna coming through the door, her hair bright red now, her lips stained crimson and the life having been drained from her.
“That bitch,” she muttered.
Gabriel looked up from where he had been sitting with a frown.
“Kavatti. Do you know what she did? She asked me to kneel today. To bow in front of her and the others and ask for penance for speaking out against her. I’m her damn spy, Gabriel. If I have information, which she is clearly too dumb to understand, it is my job to speak against her.”
Standing, Gabriel went over to her, guiding her towards the fire and sitting her down on a deep purple lounge. The anger rolled through the room in that familiar flutter of wings that I often associated with Belladonna’s heightened emotions. Though this time, I could see the curl of them in the corners and the way they pressed down, making the air thick with the scent of stale blood.
“You need to leave there, Bella. There is no point to staying.”
“No point to staying? She //owns// me, Gabriel. What else am I supposed to do? If I walk out into this world now she will send everyone after me. Do you know what happened after she made me kneel? They laughed, Gabriel. They laughed as I knelt before her and kissed her shoes and…”
Blood dripped down her cheeks in a mimicry of tears. Ones she tried to push away. I had no doubt in my mind that they were ones born out of anger and frustration rather than true sadness.
“Leave this,” Gabriel begged. “Do not stay by her side. Especially after her betrayal. We can figure another way. This does not have to be her life. I will protect you.”
Belladonna’s look softened, her shoulders slumping. “You want to go around protecting a vampire for the rest of your days? A celestial protecting an abomination?”
“You are not an abomination,” he snapped. “And if that is what is required of me, you know I will do it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“And you shouldn’t have had to become this,” he told her gently.
She smiled bitterly at that. “That’s why we work so well together, right? We’re both self-sacrificing idiots who get taken advantage of.” Shaking her head, she squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, pet. I shouldn’t be this way.”
“Drop the act, Bells,” he whispered to her. “Not with me.”
Her smile fell. “I just don’t know how to be strong without it.”
He nodded in understanding and said nothing more. Instead, he sat next to her, digging something out of his inner coat pocket. “I found you a new book today.” It was no bigger than his palm but it brought a genuine smile to her face.”
“You may be my only true friend, Gabriel,” she whispered to him.
“It’s because I see you for who you are.”
She smiled, a bitter edge to her lips. “Now I just need to get you to see yourself as something more.”
The scene faded before he could answer.
“Tell me,” Malcolm said. “Did they get better or worse?”
[[I have never seen them like that]]
[[Worse]]
[[Hopefully they are working on it]]As I stared at the image of the two of them, so still and quiet with one another, I made a mental note to try and get them back to what they had once been. The friendship that was clear between them lay heavy in the room and I couldn’t understand how two people who obviously had gone through so much together, could allow themselves such dissonance now.
It became clear to me though, that what I was seeing wasn’t the actions of two lovers. They were not two people who were coming together out of romance, but instead, they were two people who shared a deep bond. A bond born of friendship and shared strife. It was sad to think that that bond was severed due to their own actions. It didn’t matter what had happened, I decided. The two of them needed to get back to a place of understanding with each other.
Then the scene changed. Instead of the two of them kneeling together it was Belladonna coming through the door, her hair bright red now, her lips stained crimson and the life having been drained from her.
“That bitch,” she muttered.
Gabriel looked up from where he had been sitting with a frown.
“Kavatti. Do you know what she did? She asked me to kneel today. To bow in front of her and the others and ask for penance for speaking out against her. I’m her damn spy, Gabriel. If I have information, which she is clearly too dumb to understand, it is my job to speak against her.”
Standing, Gabriel went over to her, guiding her towards the fire and sitting her down on a deep purple lounge. The anger rolled through the room in that familiar flutter of wings that I often associated with Belladonna’s heightened emotions. Though this time, I could see the curl of them in the corners and the way they pressed down, making the air thick with the scent of stale blood.
“You need to leave there, Bella. There is no point to staying.”
“No point to staying? She //owns// me, Gabriel. What else am I supposed to do? If I walk out into this world now she will send everyone after me. Do you know what happened after she made me kneel? They laughed, Gabriel. They laughed as I knelt before her and kissed her shoes and…”
Blood dripped down her cheeks in a mimicry of tears. Ones she tried to push away. I had no doubt in my mind that they were ones born out of anger and frustration rather than true sadness.
“Leave this,” Gabriel begged. “Do not stay by her side. Especially after her betrayal. We can figure another way. This does not have to be her life. I will protect you.”
Belladonna’s look softened, her shoulders slumping. “You want to go around protecting a vampire for the rest of your days? A celestial protecting an abomination?”
“You are not an abomination,” he snapped. “And if that is what is required of me, you know I will do it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“And you shouldn’t have had to become this,” he told her gently.
She smiled bitterly at that. “That’s why we work so well together, right? We’re both self-sacrificing idiots who get taken advantage of.” Shaking her head, she squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, pet. I shouldn’t be this way.”
“Drop the act, Bells,” he whispered to her. “Not with me.”
Her smile fell. “I just don’t know how to be strong without it.”
He nodded in understanding and said nothing more. Instead, he sat next to her, digging something out of his inner coat pocket. “I found you a new book today.” It was no bigger than his palm but it brought a genuine smile to her face.”
“You may be my only true friend, Gabriel,” she whispered to him.
“It’s because I see you for who you are.”
She smiled, a bitter edge to her lips. “Now I just need to get you to see yourself as something more.”
The scene faded before he could answer.
“Tell me,” Malcolm said. “Did they get better or worse?”
[[I have never seen them like that]]
[[Worse]]
[[Hopefully they are working on it]]
“I don’t even think I’ve ever seen them like that,” I said softly. Belladonna and Gabriel were far more prone to snip at each other than greet each other with any sense of understanding. What I had just witnessed felt far too intimate between the two of them to be a voyeur of and there was a soft pang at the loss they must have felt when they went their separate ways. I could see it now. More so than I had ever understood before. Those two had been friends. Two people that relied on each other in the market and had tried to drop the expectations that was slowly morphing them into different people. They had shared vulnerabilities that they often couldn't with someone else. So when they lost it, the loss must have been staggering.
“I didn’t know them well,” Malcolm said. “Had a few run-ins with them here and there.”
“Belladonna is now the Baron and Gabriel the Warden of the Night Market.” They had come so far from the broken angel and the humanoid young woman that I had seen.
“Then it looks like they did what they set out to do. Do you think the price was worth it?”
“I don’t think anyone can answer that but them,” I said. We were back in the market. Walking the cobblestone streets. I glanced up at the lanterns and the way they hung above us. They were washed out smears against the sky, but the world felt real enough. Reality was fluid, however, morphing as we stumbled upon more and more memories. I had almost forgotten Malcolm was by my side. That he should have been in a bed back home. I had almost forgotten what it was we were supposed to be doing.
When a young woman rushed through me, I nearly stumbled. It was Belladonna again, running through the street with tears tracking down her cheeks. The folds of her skirts were burned, falling against her bare legs in tatters as she leaned heavily against a wall in exhaustion. Soot tracked across her face as her eyes stared around wildly.
“Excuse me?” She had turned to someone I could not see. Someone not privy to the memory. “Where am I?” I heard an echo from somewhere far away as the air in front of her wavered. “The Night Market,” she repeated. “Is that in England?” The look in her eyes was full of fear but as whoever she was speaking to walked away, I watched her resolve harden.
There was a pendant around her neck, an old locket. I watched as she reached for it, pulling the chain out from beneath the blouse she wore. The locket was oval and tarnished gold. Clicking it open, she looked at whatever was inside. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the image. A man and woman and a girl much younger than who she was now. She resembled the woman though and I realized it was her parents, the little girl herself. She looked like her mother but without the fiery red hair. The brown she had now was much more her fathers.
“Why didn’t you listen?” she whispered. “He answered our prayers. There’s no fire here. Why didn’t you…?” she swallowed thickly and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, the tears were gone and her steely resolve was back in place. Tucking the locket back beneath her shirt she looked around, straightening the folds of her skirt. She was an absolute mess but I could see the woman she became beneath all the soot and grime.
Upon her first step she hissed in pain, bringing her hand up and holding it tight. Breathing heavily, she peered down at her palm. A cut bled from the base of her wrist towards her pinky finger. But instead of the bright crimson of blood bubbling from beneath, it glowed silver, the distant ringing of bells weaving around her.
[[The moment spoke heavily of who Belladonna had become]]
[[I felt as if I was looking at a girl who had died when she stepped into the Night Market]]
[[I wondered if any of that scared woman I saw now, still existed]]
“Worse,” I said with a small laugh. “When I first arrived, they couldn’t even be in the same room together. It made Hazel uncomfortable every time and I was almost certain Gabriel was looking for a way to arrest Belladonna while she was daring him to do so.” What I had just witnessed was nothing like what they were now. The depth of their friendship then was only a pained ghost that only occasionally tried to make its presence known.
“I didn’t know them well,” Malcolm said. “Had a few run-ins with them here and there.”
“Belladonna is now the Baron and Gabriel the Warden of the Night Market.” They had come so far from the broken angel and the humanoid young woman that I had seen.
“Then it looks like they did what they set out to do. Do you think the price was worth it?”
“I don’t think anyone can answer that but them,” I said. We were back in the market. Walking the cobblestone streets. I glanced up at the lanterns and the way they hung above us. They were washed out smears against the sky, but the world felt real enough. Reality was fluid, however, morphing as we stumbled upon more and more memories. I had almost forgotten Malcolm was by my side. That he should have been in a bed back home. I had almost forgotten what it was we were supposed to be doing.
When a young woman rushed through me, I nearly stumbled. It was Belladonna again, running through the street with tears tracking down her cheeks. The folds of her skirts were burned, falling against her bare legs in tatters as she leaned heavily against a wall in exhaustion. Soot tracked across her face as her eyes stared around wildly.
“Excuse me?” She had turned to someone I could not see. Someone not privy to the memory. “Where am I?” I heard an echo from somewhere far away as the air in front of her wavered. “The Night Market,” she repeated. “Is that in England?” The look in her eyes was full of fear but as whoever she was speaking to walked away, I watched her resolve harden.
There was a pendant around her neck, an old locket. I watched as she reached for it, pulling the chain out from beneath the blouse she wore. The locket was oval and tarnished gold. Clicking it open, she looked at whatever was inside. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the image. A man and woman and a girl much younger than who she was now. She resembled the woman though and I realized it was her parents, the little girl herself. She looked like her mother but without the fiery red hair. The brown she had now was much more her fathers.
“Why didn’t you listen?” she whispered. “He answered our prayers. There’s no fire here. Why didn’t you…?” she swallowed thickly and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, the tears were gone and her steely resolve was back in place. Tucking the locket back beneath her shirt she looked around, straightening the folds of her skirt. She was an absolute mess but I could see the woman she became beneath all the soot and grime.
Upon her first step she hissed in pain, bringing her hand up and holding it tight. Breathing heavily, she peered down at her palm. A cut bled from the base of her wrist towards her pinky finger. But instead of the bright crimson of blood bubbling from beneath, it glowed silver, the distant ringing of bells weaving around her.
[[The moment spoke heavily of who Belladonna had become]]
[[I felt as if I was looking at a girl who had died when she stepped into the Night Market]]
[[I wondered if any of that scared woman I saw now, still existed]]
“They’re working on getting back to that,” I said. “Or, at least I hope so.” What I had just witnessed felt far too intimate between the two of them to be a voyeur of and there was a soft pang at the loss they must have felt when they went their separate ways. I could see it now. More so than I had ever understood before. Those two had been friends. Two people that relied on each other in the market and had tried to drop the expectations that was slowly morphing them into different people. They had shared vulnerabilities that they often couldn't with someone else. So when they lost it, the loss must have been staggering.
“I didn’t know them well,” Malcolm said. “Had a few run-ins with them here and there.”
“Belladonna is now the Baron and Gabriel the Warden of the Night Market.” They had come so far from the broken angel and the humanoid young woman that I had seen.
“Then it looks like they did what they set out to do. Do you think the price was worth it?”
“I don’t think anyone can answer that but them,” I said. We were back in the market. Walking the cobblestone streets. I glanced up at the lanterns and the way they hung above us. They were washed out smears against the sky, but the world felt real enough. Reality was fluid, however, morphing as we stumbled upon more and more memories. I had almost forgotten Malcolm was by my side. That he should have been in a bed back home. I had almost forgotten what it was we were supposed to be doing.
When a young woman rushed through me, I nearly stumbled. It was Belladonna again, running through the street with tears tracking down her cheeks. The folds of her skirts were burned, falling against her bare legs in tatters as she leaned heavily against a wall in exhaustion. Soot tracked across her face as her eyes stared around wildly.
“Excuse me?” She had turned to someone I could not see. Someone not privy to the memory. “Where am I?” I heard an echo from somewhere far away as the air in front of her wavered. “The Night Market,” she repeated. “Is that in England?” The look in her eyes was full of fear but as whoever she was speaking to walked away, I watched her resolve harden.
There was a pendant around her neck, an old locket. I watched as she reached for it, pulling the chain out from beneath the blouse she wore. The locket was oval and tarnished gold. Clicking it open, she looked at whatever was inside. Tears filled her eyes as she stared at the image. A man and woman and a girl much younger than who she was now. She resembled the woman though and I realized it was her parents, the little girl herself. She looked like her mother but without the fiery red hair. The brown she had now was much more her fathers.
“Why didn’t you listen?” she whispered. “He answered our prayers. There’s no fire here. Why didn’t you…?” she swallowed thickly and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, the tears were gone and her steely resolve was back in place. Tucking the locket back beneath her shirt she looked around, straightening the folds of her skirt. She was an absolute mess but I could see the woman she became beneath all the soot and grime.
Upon her first step she hissed in pain, bringing her hand up and holding it tight. Breathing heavily, she peered down at her palm. A cut bled from the base of her wrist towards her pinky finger. But instead of the bright crimson of blood bubbling from beneath, it glowed silver, the distant ringing of bells weaving around her.
[[The moment spoke heavily of who Belladonna had become]]
[[I felt as if I was looking at a girl who had died when she stepped into the Night Market]]
[[I wondered if any of that scared woman I saw now, still existed]]
I stared at the woman before me, weeping softly. She was so different from the one that I had come to know. The woman who acted as if she owned the market. Who was the eyes and ears upon the streets. <<if $belladonnasex == "true">> The woman who had held me and brought me to the apex of pleasure again and again simply because she desired it.<</if>><<if $belladonnaro == "true">>This was the moment she had spoken of that day. The one in which she had told me not to fall in love with her. Because her heart belonged to a world that had burned. The pain upon her features now was raw and unfiltered and even in my present, she still had not been able to lock them away entirely.<</if>>
What I was viewing now was the beginning. The moments that added up to the culmination of change that made Belladonna the woman she was now. I could see it in her. The soft dying light of innocence. There was no way of telling whether it was good or bad or if the woman she had once been would have even survived upon these streets. But it did give me understanding and a new-found respect. She had worked her way up from a scared young woman without a home and had made the market kneel at her feet.
When the image of the woman before me, so full of life, was washed away, I turned towards Malcolm. “What was…?” But he was looking elsewhere, for the first time not sticking right by my side as he heard soft crying coming from down the way.
“Malcolm?”
He looked at me over his shoulder, a frown etched between his brow. “Do you hear that?”
I did. It was a child. The cries were so small but accompanied by such a deep sorrow that I didn’t know how it could be anything else. Together, the two of us began seeking it out, following the soft sounds.
[[Next|Chapter 11 6]]
I stared at the woman before me, weeping softly. She was so different from the one that I had come to know. The woman who acted as if she owned the market. Who was the eyes and ears upon the streets. <<if $belladonnasex == "true">> The woman who had held me and brought me to the apex of pleasure again and again simply because she desired it.<</if>><<if $belladonnaro == "true">>This was the moment she had spoken of that day. The one in which she had told me not to fall in love with her. Because her heart belonged to a world that had burned. The pain upon her features now was raw and unfiltered and even in my present, she still had not been able to lock them away entirely.<</if>>
The girl before me was dead though. I didn’t even know if hints of her remained. Whoever Belladonna had been when she first arrived in the market, she had effectively stamped beneath her boot. This woman, wouldn’t have survived though. She wouldn’t have been able to face down Kavatti or walk through that cathedral with her head held high. For better or worse, Belladonna had killed her past life, letting that innocence burn within the world she had walked away from.
When the image of the woman before me, so full of life, was washed away, I turned towards Malcolm. “What was…?” But he was looking elsewhere, for the first time not sticking right by my side as he heard soft crying coming from down the way.
“Malcolm?”
He looked at me over his shoulder, a frown etched between his brow. “Do you hear that?”
I did. It was a child. The cries were so small but accompanied by such a deep sorrow that I didn’t know how it could be anything else. Together, the two of us began seeking it out, following the soft sounds.
[[Next|Chapter 11 6]]
I stared at the woman before me, weeping softly. She was so different from the one that I had come to know. The woman who acted as if she owned the market. Who was the eyes and ears upon the streets. <<if $belladonnasex == "true">> The woman who had held me and brought me to the apex of pleasure again and again simply because she desired it.<</if>><<if $belladonnaro == "true">>This was the moment she had spoken of that day. The one in which she had told me not to fall in love with her. Because her heart belonged to a world that had burned. The pain upon her features now was raw and unfiltered and even in my present, she still had not been able to lock them away entirely.<</if>>
Briefly, I wondered if this woman was still there. If Belladonna hid her beneath the visage that she had carefully crafted. I wondered if in quieter moments, I would still be able to see the compassion in her eyes or if the humanity that she once held had been forgotten even by her. But where had she placed her? The woman who clutched that locket so dearly. Who loved to read. Where had the Belladonna I knew, hid her away?
When the image of the woman before me, so full of life, was washed away, I turned towards Malcolm. “What was…?” But he was looking elsewhere, for the first time not sticking right by my side as he heard soft crying coming from down the way.
“Malcolm?”
He looked at me over his shoulder, a frown etched between his brow. “Do you hear that?”
I did. It was a child. The cries were so small but accompanied by such a deep sorrow that I didn’t know how it could be anything else. Together, the two of us began seeking it out, following the soft sounds.
[[Next|Chapter 11 6]]
We found a boy, curled beneath a broken box, his legs tucked to his chest. The amber light from the lanterns above rained down on him as he shivered within.
“Boy! Where are you?”
The deep tone of a man shouted across the market and the boy flinched, closing his eyes and hugging himself tighter. “Please don’t find me. Please don’t find me.”
He was yanked out of his hiding space and hauled up against a broad chest. The little boy squirmed, trying to rid himself of the firm grasp and ended up falling to the streets. A black boot came down on his small hand, causing him to cry out.
“What did I tell you?” the man yelled at him. “How many times do I need to tell you to keep that shit to yourself?”
“I’m sorry,” the boy cried, tears rolling down his freckled cheeks. “I didn’t even know. I–”
“Do you know what an embarrassment you are? Do you? Just like your mother.”
As the boy rose to his feet, he looked up at his dad, sniffling slightly as he cradled his hand to his chest. “What’s so wrong with that?” he asked, raising his chin. “Mama was beautiful and…”
The man reached out, smacking the small boy across his cheek. The skin beneath his eye split in one thin line from the ring that man wore. The boy didn’t even wait, he just ran. Ran from the man himself and out into the market.
The man stood there, looking after him. “Good riddance.”
As the scene faded away and my heart began to slow, I felt my mouth go dry. When I turned to Malcolm, I saw the expression of fury on his face, his eyes locked on the man that was now frozen in front of us.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“Milo,” he said softly. “The little boy was Milo.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>I felt my heart drop at that. So that was how he came to the market. Abandoned by his father. He had told me once before, but seeing it had been entirely different.<</if>>
[[(anger)What kind of parent treats their child like that?]]
[[He never talked about his family that much]]
[[I’m beginning to think the Night Market is just making sure to open itself to lost souls]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Reach out and take Malcolm’s hand]]<</if>>
I stared at the man before me, at the lines of his face. They were marked with irritation. As if the little boy who had run from him was nothing but an afterthought that had spoiled his day. I felt the anger well within me at the way he looked at his son. I wanted to lash out. I wanted to scream and hurt the man that had used his own anger against someone so defenseless. More than anything, I wanted this man to feel the pain that I knew he had implanted deep within Milo’s soul.
“What kind of parent treats their child like that?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“The kind that never deserved to be a parent to begin with.” I could hear it in Malcolm’s tone. The same anger I felt coursing through me. Milo missed nothing by leaving such abuse that day, but he never should have been born into the situation to begin with. I wanted nothing more than to come face to face with this man one day.
Turning down the alley I paused as we walked into the apothecary once more. This time, the fire was blazing and laughter rang through the room.
“You cheat!” Hazel shrieked. “I know you are. I can see your cards.”
“Which cards?” It was Milo’s voice. The one I was used to now as opposed to the scared little boy I had just seen.
“The ones you have shoved in your boot,” Hazel cried out.
“Those? No. Those aren’t cards. Their feet warmers. New on the market and selling like hot cakes. Dock workers use them all the time.”
“Do they just happen to be in the shape of a card?” It was Malcolm’s voice now.
“Why yes, Mal. Yes they do. Helps the thieves of the world not knick them from you when you’re not looking. Got to watch out for those boot thieves.”
When the image in front of us cleared I could see them. The three of them sat around the low table upstairs, just outside the bedrooms. Cards and small rocks and coins were scattered across the table, along with a few empty bottles and cups of tea. Dirty dishes were stacked off to the side where Billows was licking them clean, and the entire room was lit with wisps that came in and out of the windows freely.
Hazel sat at the head of the table, her cheeks flushed with laughter, Milo on one side with a good stack of cards hidden not only within his boots but his front pocket as well. Malcolm was across from him, leaning back on his elbows with his own cards discarded to the side as he watched his sister and friend go back and forth.
I felt my heart clench at the sight of the three of them. At a scene that felt so familiar to myself. How many nights had I sat downstairs with Hazel and Milo, laughing and tossing cards back and forth? How many nights had we watched Milo stumble out the front door with a bottle and how many nights had Hazel and I sat up afterward drinking tea?
Next to me, I heard Malcolm’s breath stutter.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, voice thick. He looked at the two people in front of them, as if seeing them for the first time. “I had just forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?”
“What looking in on your family was like. Nights like this stopped after I became Gatekeeper. I tried to get them back but… I don’t know. After everything that happened I was an outsider looking in.”
I knew the feeling. Ever since coming to the market, I felt different. Like I could walk with them and talk with them all but I was clearly not them. Not in the way that I wanted to be. Often they forgot that I was new to the market. Sometimes I did as well. There were things I didn’t know, little bits of life and laughter that I had not been around for. It had left me with an aching pain to try as hard as I could. To find a place where I belonged. But there were times, when the world was falling more onto my shoulder than anyone else, that I felt like I didn’t belong.
“Did it get better?” I asked Malcolm.
“I hoped it would,” he said. “But the fates had bigger plans for me, unfortunately.”
Milo’s laughter rang out as Hazel practically tackled him from across the table as she saw him slipping a card up his sleeve. “Foul play!” he yelled. “Mal, help!”
“Oh,” Mal laughed. “No, you got yourself into this one, Button. You get yourself out of this.”
“Traitor!”
[[Next|Chapter 11 7]]
I stared at the man before me. He had the same nose as Milo, but his face was twisted and far more cruel. “He never talked about his family that much,” I whispered. “I don’t even know if I’ve heard him mention his mother before.”
“He told me once he wished to forget them.” Malcolm jaw clenched as he stared at the man before us. I had a feeling that if there was any way that he could, Malcolm would have gone back to this night and made sure that Milo’s father never walked out of here.
“Come on,” I whispered. I didn’t want to spend another moment with the echoes of the little boy's cries in my ears.
Turning down the alley I paused as we walked into the apothecary once more. This time, the fire was blazing and laughter rang through the room.
“You cheat!” Hazel shrieked. “I know you are. I can see your cards.”
“Which cards?” It was Milo’s voice. The one I was used to now as opposed to the scared little boy I had just seen.
“The ones you have shoved in your boot,” Hazel cried out.
“Those? No. Those aren’t cards. Their feet warmers. New on the market and selling like hot cakes. Dock workers use them all the time.”
“Do they just happen to be in the shape of a card?” It was Malcolm’s voice now.
“Why yes, Mal. Yes they do. Helps the thieves of the world not knick them from you when you’re not looking. Got to watch out for those boot thieves.”
When the image in front of us cleared I could see them. The three of them sat around the low table upstairs, just outside the bedrooms. Cards and small rocks and coins were scattered across the table, along with a few empty bottles and cups of tea. Dirty dishes were stacked off to the side where Billows was licking them clean, and the entire room was lit with wisps that came in and out of the windows freely.
Hazel sat at the head of the table, her cheeks flushed with laughter, Milo on one side with a good stack of cards hidden not only within his boots but his front pocket as well. Malcolm was across from him, leaning back on his elbows with his own cards discarded to the side as he watched his sister and friend go back and forth.
I felt my heart clench at the sight of the three of them. At a scene that felt so familiar to myself. How many nights had I sat downstairs with Hazel and Milo, laughing and tossing cards back and forth? How many nights had we watched Milo stumble out the front door with a bottle and how many nights had Hazel and I sat up afterward drinking tea?
Next to me, I heard Malcolm’s breath stutter.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, voice thick. He looked at the two people in front of them, as if seeing them for the first time. “I had just forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?”
“What looking in on your family was like. Nights like this stopped after I became Gatekeeper. I tried to get them back but… I don’t know. After everything that happened I was an outsider looking in.”
I knew the feeling. Ever since coming to the market, I felt different. Like I could walk with them and talk with them all but I was clearly not them. Not in the way that I wanted to be. Often they forgot that I was new to the market. Sometimes I did as well. There were things I didn’t know, little bits of life and laughter that I had not been around for. It had left me with an aching pain to try as hard as I could. To find a place where I belonged. But there were times, when the world was falling more onto my shoulder than anyone else, that I felt like I didn’t belong.
“Did it get better?” I asked Malcolm.
“I hoped it would,” he said. “But the fates had bigger plans for me, unfortunately.”
Milo’s laughter rang out as Hazel practically tackled him from across the table as she saw him slipping a card up his sleeve. “Foul play!” he yelled. “Mal, help!”
“Oh,” Mal laughed. “No, you got yourself into this one, Button. You get yourself out of this.”
“Traitor!”
[[Next|Chapter 11 7]]
“I’m beginning to understand,” I told him. “Why the Night Market keeps opening doors like it does. It’s trying to protect the people who need it.” Milo. Gabriel. Bella. Each of them had nowhere to turn and each of them had been accepted within these streets.
“He deserved more,” Malcolm said through gritted teeth. “He deserved a childhood.”
I looked at the man before us. At the sneer on his lips. “I don’t think Milo would have gotten one with him.” If this was an example of what could happen on a public street, what was happening behind closed doors? “Come on,” I whispered. I didn’t want to spend another moment with the echoes of the little boy's cries in my ears.
Turning down the alley I paused as we walked into the apothecary once more. This time, the fire was blazing and laughter rang through the room.
“You cheat!” Hazel shrieked. “I know you are. I can see your cards.”
“Which cards?” It was Milo’s voice. The one I was used to now as opposed to the scared little boy I had just seen.
“The ones you have shoved in your boot,” Hazel cried out.
“Those? No. Those aren’t cards. Their feet warmers. New on the market and selling like hot cakes. Dock workers use them all the time.”
“Do they just happen to be in the shape of a card?” It was Malcolm’s voice now.
“Why yes, Mal. Yes they do. Helps the thieves of the world not knick them from you when you’re not looking. Got to watch out for those boot thieves.”
When the image in front of us cleared I could see them. The three of them sat around the low table upstairs, just outside the bedrooms. Cards and small rocks and coins were scattered across the table, along with a few empty bottles and cups of tea. Dirty dishes were stacked off to the side where Billows was licking them clean, and the entire room was lit with wisps that came in and out of the windows freely.
Hazel sat at the head of the table, her cheeks flushed with laughter, Milo on one side with a good stack of cards hidden not only within his boots but his front pocket as well. Malcolm was across from him, leaning back on his elbows with his own cards discarded to the side as he watched his sister and friend go back and forth.
I felt my heart clench at the sight of the three of them. At a scene that felt so familiar to myself. How many nights had I sat downstairs with Hazel and Milo, laughing and tossing cards back and forth? How many nights had we watched Milo stumble out the front door with a bottle and how many nights had Hazel and I sat up afterward drinking tea?
Next to me, I heard Malcolm’s breath stutter.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, voice thick. He looked at the two people in front of them, as if seeing them for the first time. “I had just forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?”
“What looking in on your family was like. Nights like this stopped after I became Gatekeeper. I tried to get them back but… I don’t know. After everything that happened I was an outsider looking in.”
I knew the feeling. Ever since coming to the market, I felt different. Like I could walk with them and talk with them all but I was clearly not them. Not in the way that I wanted to be. Often they forgot that I was new to the market. Sometimes I did as well. There were things I didn’t know, little bits of life and laughter that I had not been around for. It had left me with an aching pain to try as hard as I could. To find a place where I belonged. But there were times, when the world was falling more onto my shoulder than anyone else, that I felt like I didn’t belong.
“Did it get better?” I asked Malcolm.
“I hoped it would,” he said. “But the fates had bigger plans for me, unfortunately.”
Milo’s laughter rang out as Hazel practically tackled him from across the table as she saw him slipping a card up his sleeve. “Foul play!” he yelled. “Mal, help!”
“Oh,” Mal laughed. “No, you got yourself into this one, Button. You get yourself out of this.”
“Traitor!”
[[Next|Chapter 11 7]]
I reached out. Before I could stop myself my hand was curling within Malcolm’s and I squeezed it gently. “Did you know?” I didn’t want to think of it. I didn’t want to take the man who laughed loudly and cheated at cards and see him so broken and without a home. I doubted Malcolm did, either.
“Yeah.” His jaw clenched. “Seeing it is different though.”
I could feel the anger that vibrated through him. The same anger I felt. Tugging on Malcolm’s hand, I turned away from the frozen image of Milo’s father. Though I tracked the man's face to memory.
Turning down the alley I paused as we walked into the apothecary once more. This time, the fire was blazing and laughter rang through the room.
“You cheat!” Hazel shrieked. “I know you are. I can see your cards.”
“Which cards?” It was Milo’s voice. The one I was used to now as opposed to the scared little boy I had just seen.
“The ones you have shoved in your boot,” Hazel cried out.
“Those? No. Those aren’t cards. Their feet warmers. New on the market and selling like hot cakes. Dock workers use them all the time.”
“Do they just happen to be in the shape of a card?” It was Malcolm’s voice now.
“Why yes, Mal. Yes they do. Helps the thieves of the world not knick them from you when you’re not looking. Got to watch out for those boot thieves.”
When the image in front of us cleared I could see them. The three of them sat around the low table upstairs, just outside the bedrooms. Cards and small rocks and coins were scattered across the table, along with a few empty bottles and cups of tea. Dirty dishes were stacked off to the side where Billows was licking them clean, and the entire room was lit with wisps that came in and out of the windows freely.
Hazel sat at the head of the table, her cheeks flushed with laughter, Milo on one side with a good stack of cards hidden not only within his boots but his front pocket as well. Malcolm was across from him, leaning back on his elbows with his own cards discarded to the side as he watched his sister and friend go back and forth.
I felt my heart clench at the sight of the three of them. At a scene that felt so familiar to myself. How many nights had I sat downstairs with Hazel and Milo, laughing and tossing cards back and forth? How many nights had we watched Milo stumble out the front door with a bottle and how many nights had Hazel and I sat up afterward drinking tea?
Next to me, I heard Malcolm’s breath stutter.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, voice thick. He looked at the two people in front of them, as if seeing them for the first time. “I had just forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?”
“What looking in on your family was like. Nights like this stopped after I became Gatekeeper. I tried to get them back but… I don’t know. After everything that happened I was an outsider looking in.”
I knew the feeling. Ever since coming to the market, I felt different. Like I could walk with them and talk with them all but I was clearly not them. Not in the way that I wanted to be. Often they forgot that I was new to the market. Sometimes I did as well. There were things I didn’t know, little bits of life and laughter that I had not been around for. It had left me with an aching pain to try as hard as I could. To find a place where I belonged. But there were times, when the world was falling more onto my shoulder than anyone else, that I felt like I didn’t belong.
“Did it get better?” I asked Malcolm.
“I hoped it would,” he said. “But the fates had bigger plans for me, unfortunately.”
Milo’s laughter rang out as Hazel practically tackled him from across the table as she saw him slipping a card up his sleeve. “Foul play!” he yelled. “Mal, help!”
“Oh,” Mal laughed. “No, you got yourself into this one, Button. You get yourself out of this.”
“Traitor!”
[[Next|Chapter 11 7]]
Once more, the scene bled away. The small apartment faded around us until it refocused, much later, on a much different night. Milo sat on the edge of the sofa, head in his hands while Malcolm stood nearby. The fire from the hearth was out and the two of them looked heated.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Milo was saying. His eyes were bloodshot with the remnants of alcohol and he was holding a damp cloth to the side of his head.
“I’m not mad, Button. I’m worried. You’re not doing good and when you don’t do good, you start doing this self-destructive routine.”
“It’s //my// self-destructive routine. Why do you give a fuck?”
“Why do you keep trying to get me to not give a fuck?” Malcolm asked. Milo’s face was twisted into a rage that I hadn’t seen before. The knuckles of his right hand were bruised and split. “I know you are angry right now. I know you think you are him. But you’re not. You are loved, Milo Next. By me. By Hazel…”
“Oh, by a woman so desperate for it due to her mom showing her nothing and by a man I’m fucking? Wow. I’ve done stellar.”
Malcolm didn’t move a muscle as he stared at him. Milo couldn’t meet his eyes. He was shaking in anger as he clenched and unclenched his fist. When the sob ripped from Milo’s throat, it was unbidden. Something ugly and shameful that fell from him unexpectably. A wounded animal crying because they were trapped.
“You’re drunk,” Malcolm said, his voice far firmer than it had been moments ago. “So I’ll ignore what you just said. But I really hope you take into advisement what just came from your lips and not say it again. If Hazel heard that, you would have destroyed her.”
Tears fell upon Milo’s split knuckles, mingling with dried blood. His hair was dirty and hung in front of his face and I could see now that the collar of his shirt was stained and his lower lip split. When Malcolm approached him, he sat on the coffee table, ducking his head down to catch Milo’s eye. Slowly, Milo followed it up, red rimmed honey eyes staring regrettably back at the man before him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, this time with much more sincerity.
Reaching out, Malcolm ran a hand through the dirty mop of hair. “Why won’t you let me take care of you?”
Milo sniffed, laughing a little at the mere concept. “Because you’ve done it too much already.”
“I’ve only done what I’ve been willing to give.”
Milo swallowed thickly at that, pulling away. “But what if I’m not deserving of it?”
Next to me, Malcolm, my Malcolm, walked away.
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Follow Malcolm|Follow Malcolm Milo RO]]
[[Stay and watch|Stay and watch Milo RO]]
<<elseif $miloro == "false">> [[Follow Malcolm]]
[[Stay and watch]]<</if>>I didn’t think I could look on the moment any longer. The crumpled look on Malcolm’s face at Milo’s confession. The way that Milo looked ashamed, glancing down at his fist over and over before mumbling more apologies. Malcolm took him in close then, placing Milo’s head on his shoulder and keeping it there as the man softly cried.
I couldn’t hear what Milo said then. I wasn’t sure I even should. Turning away, I felt my own throat choke in emotion. I didn’t let the scene fade. I followed Malcolm a ways away until I couldn’t hear their soft voices any longer.
The world faded into a smear, the cobbled streets beginning to stack around me once more. Turning, I went in search of Malcolm, my footsteps heavy and burdened with too many memories that didn’t belong to me.
Malcolm stood, staring out at the empty market, his eyes lost and cast towards a horizon made of cobbled brick. I didn’t know if it was a memory he was looking at or if he was replaying what we had just seen, but I stood silently by his side.
“It’s dangerous here,” he whispered. “Far too easy to get caught up in the past.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I don’t think I should have seen that.”
Malcolm laughed, though there was no amusement in it. There was something secret lingering instead. A joke that I hadn’t quite been able to get. Not yet.
“You really loved him,” I said quietly. I could see it in the way the two of them had shifted in each other's presence. Whether it was something romantic, or speaking to the idea of two people that had been through far too much together, was harder to tell. The lines between what was their relationship and what was their declaration of family, were blurred.
“Milo and I were a lot of things,” he said softly. “For a while there, it felt as if it were Hazel, him and I, against the world. The three of us had nothing. Barely had a roof over our heads. None of us had family to speak of.”
Shaking his head, he smiled fondly. “Do you know I couldn’t stand him when he first started coming around? Little shit latched onto my sister like she was his everything and all I could do was find him loud and annoying.”
“So what changed?” I asked.
Malcolm shrugged. “He did. I did. I don’t know. One day, I just realized a lot of time had passed and he was still here. He was sticking around when I hadn’t given him much of a reason to. He was good to Hazel. He cared for us more than anyone else ever really had. And I guess in return we filled that need for him.” Malcolm closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. “I don’t remember when I fell in love with Milo but I do remember how the moment I kissed him, I thought it might be the dumbest decision I would ever make. Yet, I don’t regret a single second with him."
[[He misses you]]
[[I think you dying messed him up]]
[[It's obvious to anyone that he held you in high regards]]
I stayed to observe the two of them. The crumpled look on Malcolm’s face at Milo’s confession. The way that Milo looked ashamed, glancing down at his fist over and over before mumbling more apologies. Malcolm took him in close then, placing Milo’s head on his shoulder and keeping it there as the man softly cried.
“It was just a bad day, Button,” Malcolm said. “It doesn’t define you. I’m here, alright? I’m right here. I’m not leaving.”
“I don’t know what even happened, Mal. I didn’t mean to hit the guy. I didn’t even think.”
Malcolm shushed him. “We’ll get you back on track again, okay? Hazel’s been worried about you. She wants you here more. You don’t need to be in that distillery all on your own. It’s too big for you, Button. You need to come live here for a while.”
“Why can’t I live with you?” Milo asked.
The hesitation that crossed Malcolm’s face at the tearful eyes that turned to him, was one that I thought would lead to him telling him to come home with him. Pack up his belongings and move back in. Instead, he smiled sadly, wiping the tears from Milo’s cheeks. “Because we’d end up breaking up. Again.”
Milo snorted, as if it were an old joke. “Yeah. We’re not really good at that whole romance thing, are we.”
“Not even a little bit.”
The world faded into a smear, the cobbled streets beginning to stack around me once more. Turning, I went in search of Malcolm, my footsteps heavy and burdened with too many memories that didn’t belong to me.
Malcolm stood, staring out at the empty market, his eyes lost and cast towards a horizon made of cobbled brick. I didn’t know if it was a memory he was looking at or if he was replaying what we had just seen, but I stood silently by his side.
“It’s dangerous here,” he whispered. “Far too easy to get caught up in the past.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I don’t think I should have seen that.”
Malcolm laughed, though there was no amusement in it. There was something secret lingering instead. A joke that I hadn’t quite been able to get. Not yet.
“You really loved him,” I said quietly. I could see it in the way the two of them had shifted in each other's presence. Whether it was something romantic, or speaking to the idea of two people that had seen far too much with each other, was harder to tell. The lines between what was their relationship and what was their declaration of family, were blurred.
“Milo and I were a lot of things,” he said softly. “For a while there, it felt as if it were Hazel, him and I, against the world. The three of us had nothing. Barely had a roof over our heads. None of us had family to speak of.”
Shaking his head, he smiled fondly. “Do you know I couldn’t stand him when he first started coming around? Little shit latched onto my sister like she was his everything and all I could do was find him loud and annoying.”
“So what changed?” I asked.
Malcolm shrugged. “He did. I did. I don’t know. One day, I just realized a lot of time had passed and he was still here. He was sticking around when I hadn’t given him much of a reason to. He was good to Hazel. He cared for us more than anyone else ever really had. And I guess in return we filled that need for him.” Malcolm closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. “I don’t remember when I fell in love with Milo but I do remember how the moment I kissed him, I thought it might be the dumbest decision I would ever make. Yet, I don’t regret a single second with him."
[[He misses you]]
[[I think you dying messed him up]]
[[It's obvious to anyone that he held you in high regards]]
I didn’t think I could look on the moment any longer. The crumpled look on Malcolm’s face at Milo’s confession. The way that Milo looked ashamed, glancing down at his fist over and over before mumbling more apologies. Malcolm took him in close then, placing Milo’s head on his shoulder and keeping it there as the man softly cried.
I couldn’t hear what Milo said then. I wasn’t sure I even should. Turning away, I felt my own throat choke in emotion. I didn’t let the scene fade. I followed Malcolm a ways away until I couldn’t hear their soft voices any longer.
The world faded into a smear, the cobbled streets beginning to stack around me once more. Turning, I went in search of Malcolm, my footsteps heavy and burdened with too many memories that didn’t belong to me.
Malcolm stood, staring out at the empty market, his eyes lost and cast towards a horizon made of cobbled brick. I didn’t know if it was a memory he was looking at or if he was replaying what we had just seen, but I stood silently by his side.
“It’s dangerous here,” he whispered. “Far too easy to get caught up in the past.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I don’t think I should have seen that.”
Malcolm laughed, though there was no amusement in it. There was something secret lingering instead. A joke that I hadn’t quite been able to get. Not yet.
“You love him, too, huh?”
I looked at him quickly, not having expected it. Malcolm didn’t look surprised or hurt, just gently contemplative.
[[I do]]
[[I’m sorry]]
[[I could]]
I stayed to observe the two of them. The crumpled look on Malcolm’s face at Milo’s confession. The way that Milo looked ashamed, glancing down at his fist over and over before mumbling more apologies. Malcolm took him in close then, placing Milo’s head on his shoulder and keeping it there as the man softly cried.
“It was just a bad day, Button,” Malcolm said. “It doesn’t define you. I’m here, alright? I’m right here. I’m not leaving.”
“I don’t know what even happened, Mal. I didn’t mean to hit the guy. I didn’t even think.”
Malcolm shushed him. “We’ll get you back on track again, okay? Hazel’s been worried about you. She wants you here more. You don’t need to be in that distillery all on your own. It’s too big for you, Button. You need to come live here for a while.”
“Why can’t I live with you?” Milo asked.
The hesitation that crossed Malcolm’s face at the tearful eyes that turned to him, was one that I thought would lead to him telling him to come home with him. Pack up his belongings in move back in. Instead, he smiled sadly, wiping the tears from Milo’s cheeks. “Because we’d end up breaking up. Again.”
Milo snorted, as if it were an old joke. “Yeah. We’re not really good at that whole romance thing, are we.”
“Not even a little bit.”
The world faded into a smear, the cobbled streets beginning to stack around me once more. Turning, I went in search of Malcolm, my footsteps heavy and burdened with too many memories that didn’t belong to me.
Malcolm stood, staring out at the empty market, his eyes lost and cast towards a horizon made of cobbled brick. I didn’t know if it was a memory he was looking at or if he was replaying what we had just seen, but I stood silently by his side.
“It’s dangerous here,” he whispered. “Far too easy to get caught up in the past.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I don’t think I should have seen that.”
Malcolm laughed, though there was no amusement in it. There was something secret lingering instead. A joke that I hadn’t quite been able to get. Not yet.
“You love him, too, huh?”
I looked at him quickly, not having expected it. Malcolm didn’t look surprised or hurt, just gently contemplative.
[[I do]]
[[I’m sorry]]
[[I could]]
It was the one thing that had not been acknowledged. The fact that we had both been with this man. Had both been on the receiving end of his smile. Of his charm. We had both fallen for someone who now felt unattainable and we were both stuck in a strange space where we didn’t know where we could land.
“I do,” I told him.
Malcolm smiled a bit, his shoulders slumping in ease. “Good. Button needs more love in the world. Sometimes you have to be far too persistent with your love but he craves it. I’m glad to hear someone like you took a liking to him.”
I frowned at that. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
His eyes ticked to mine. “Why would it bother me?”
“I mean, I know how much he cared for you and it's obvious you care for him.”
“And he cares for another and another now cares for him. I’m confused why this would be something to be bothered by.” He laughed a little, tipping his head back against the wall. “Look, this isn’t a competition. And if for some reason it was? I would resign from the race. Because I don’t love people on the basis of stealing their heart.”
I looked away, listening to those words. There was no jealousy. No ounce of contempt. Just a simple statement.
“Here’s the thing about Milo,” Malcolm said. “It’s really easy to fall in love with him. It’s nearly impossible to make him love himself.”
I knew that now. The dark circles. The comments. The way he hid behind a laugh or a dance. Milo wanted to be loved and cared for and shoved people away the moment it happened. I could see the pained memories on Malcolm’s face and wondered how often he had gone through that. How often had he been pushed away by a man who needed to be loved but simply thought himself unworthy.
“How long have I been dead?” he asked. “Do you know?”
“Ten years,” I said. “You’ve been gone for ten years.”
A huff of breath was punched from him as he leaned heavily against one of the forming walls “That long, huh? I knew it was a while but…” he trailed off, ducking his head, hair falling across his face.
[[Are you okay?|Chapter Eleven Are you okay?]]
[[If it helps, you were missed]]
[[Did you not expect to come back?]]It was the one thing that had not been acknowledged. The fact that we had both been with this man. Had both been on the receiving end of his smile. Of his charm. We had both fallen for someone who now felt unattainable and we were both stuck in a strange space where we didn’t know where we could land.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.
Malcolm looked at me curiously. “For what?”
“I doubt what you wanted to hear when you came back was that the man you loved was with someone else. I don’t know if he’s moved on or…”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” His voice was sharp and brooked no room for argument. “There isn’t a single part of me that is upset over whatever has developed between the two of you. But I don’t want to hear the bullshit line of you being some sort of placeholder. Because I dealt with that with him on a near constant. If Milo chose to be with you, he chose you. You are not my placeholder and you certainly didn’t warm my side of the bed.”
“How am I supposed to compete with what you two had?”
“First off, it is not a competition. Second, if it were a competition, I would resign from the race. Because I don’t love people on the basis of stealing their heart.”
I looked away, listening to those words. There was no jealousy. No ounce of contempt. Just a simple statement.
“Here’s the thing about Milo,” Malcolm said. “It’s really easy to fall in love with him. It’s nearly impossible to make him love himself.”
I knew that now. The dark circles. The comments. The way he hid behind a laugh or a dance. Milo wanted to be loved and cared for and shoved people away the moment it happened. I could see the pained memories on Malcolm’s face and wondered how often he had gone through that. How often had he been pushed away by a man who needed to be loved but simply thought himself unworthy.
“How long have I been dead?” he asked. “Do you know?”
“Ten years,” I said. “You’ve been gone for ten years.”
A huff of breath was punched from him as he leaned heavily against one of the forming walls “That long, huh? I knew it was a while but…” he trailed off, ducking his head, hair falling across his face.
[[Are you okay?|Chapter Eleven Are you okay?]]
[[If it helps, you were missed]]
[[Did you not expect to come back?]]Love. I hadn’t known Milo for long but I knew it was heading that way. I wanted it to, at least. But there was something holding him back and quite possibly myself. Whether it was because we hadn’t known each other for long or because there were old and ugly scars that had yet to be revealed. But I could see myself loving Milo in the future. One day when the world was not gasping for breath at our feet.
“I could,” I told Malcolm, unashamed. “I definitely could. But I don’t think I know him as well as I should.” Seeing what I had tonight, I was becoming all too aware that who Milo Next was, appeared to be far larger than what I had seen. I had only been privy to a small fraction of the man. A ghost of who he hid deep within. Not because he didn’t trust me. Not because I didn’t ask the right questions. But because he didn’t think himself anyone deserving of care when the nights got too dark.
“Not that I have any intention of jumping into Milo’s arms when I wake. I’d probably knock him over, to be honest. He’s so scrawny. But, in case it isn’t clear, what you and Milo have is between you and Milo. I’m not looking to break anyone up.”
“And what if he’s looking to go back to you?”
Malcolm looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “If Milo chose to love you, he chose you for a reason. Don’t go thinking you have just been someone to warm the bed.” I looked away, listening to those words. There was no jealousy. No ounce of contempt. Just a simple statement.
“Here’s the thing about Milo,” Malcolm said. “It’s really easy to fall in love with him. It’s nearly impossible to make him love himself.”
I knew that now. The dark circles. The comments. The way he hid behind a laugh or a dance. Milo wanted to be loved and cared for and shoved people away the moment it happened. I could see the pained memories on Malcolm’s face and wondered how often he had gone through that. How often had he been pushed away by a man who needed to be loved but simply thought himself unworthy.
“How long have I been dead?” he asked. “Do you know?”
“Ten years,” I said. “You’ve been gone for ten years.”
A huff of breath was punched from him as he leaned heavily against one of the forming walls “That long, huh? I knew it was a while but…” he trailed off, ducking his head, hair falling across his face.
[[Are you okay?|Chapter Eleven Are you okay?]]
[[If it helps, you were missed]]
[[Did you not expect to come back?]]I stopped for a moment to look at this man. The one who had been dead for so long. Who had separated himself from his family in the beginning to keep them safe only to have it all be thrown back in his face. And for what? For trying to do what was right? For trying to save the Night Market and the people who lived within it? His death had been senseless. Kavatti had made a power grab that gained her nothing but had left a family grieving the loss of someone they loved. It felt as if it had torn Hazel and Milo apart.
“He misses you,” I said gently, hoping to ease some sort of blow. I didn’t know what it would mean for Milo and Malcolm when they finally met up again. There was a part of me that hoped for something good, but time had passed and that death was a heavy weight on their lives.
“I miss him, too,” he said softly. “Even if he drove me up the wall half the time.”
I laughed a little. “What irritated you the most about him?”
“That he never shut up.” It was said fondly and with laughter curling at his lips. The sentiment was a valid one when applied to Milo, however. “How long have I been dead?” he asked. “Do you know?”
“Ten years,” I said. “You’ve been gone for ten years.”
A huff of breath was punched from him as he leaned heavily against one of the forming walls “That long, huh? I knew it was a while but…” he trailed off, ducking his head, hair falling across his face.
[[Are you okay?|Chapter Eleven Are you okay?]]
[[A lot of people felt your absence|If it helps, you were missed]]
[[Did you not expect to come back?]]I stopped for a moment to look at this man. The one who had been dead for so long. Who had separated himself from his family in the beginning to keep them safe only to have it all be thrown back in his face. And for what? For trying to do what was right? For trying to save the Night Market and the people who lived within it? His death had been senseless. Kavatti had made a power grab that gained her nothing in the end but had left a family grieving the loss of someone they loved. It felt as if it had torn Hazel and Milo apart.
“I think you dying messed him up,” I said softly. I didn’t know Milo that well. I had spent some game nights with him and Hazel and had talked with him when he stopped by the apothecary. But it was clear to see in the way he almost always refused to say Malcolm’s name. In how he looked at Hazel when she begged him to just help her bring him back. Malcolm’s death had had a lasting effect. One in which Hazel had never grieved over and one that, I think, maybe have birthed anger into Milo.
“I think me dying messed a lot up. Me included,” Malcolm confessed softly. “Something to deal with when I wake up. If I can find him.”
“You don’t think he’ll want to see you?”
“I think I represent something terrifying for Milo and he will avoid it at all costs. But, I expect nothing different. The man had a unique way of pushing my buttons.” Pausing, Malcolm leaned against the wall. “How long have I been dead?” he asked. “Do you know?”
“Ten years,” I said. “You’ve been gone for ten years.”
A huff of breath was punched from him as he leaned heavily against one of the forming walls “That long, huh? I knew it was a while but…” he trailed off, ducking his head, hair falling across his face.
[[Are you okay?|Chapter Eleven Are you okay?]]
[[A lot of people felt your absence|If it helps, you were missed]]
[[Did you not expect to come back?]]
I stopped for a moment to look at this man. The one who had been dead for so long. Who had separated himself from his family in the beginning to keep them safe only to have it all be thrown back in his face. And for what? For trying to do what was right? For trying to save the Night Market and the people who lived within it? His death had been senseless. Kavatti had made a power grab that gained her nothing in the end but had left a family grieving the loss of someone they loved. It felt as if it had torn Hazel and Milo apart.
But I could see it. Milo never spoke badly of Malcolm. In fact, from what I could gather, Malcolm staying dead was Milo respecting his wishes more than any desire of his own.
“It’s obvious that he holds you in high regards,” I told Malcolm. “Was it always that way?”
Malcolm nodded. “Hazel used to say I was the only one who could get him to listen. I don’t know if I believe that. She has this way with him as well. I think everyone just has to find their own way to relate to him. Mine was unwavering support and understanding, even if he drove me up a wall.” Pausing, Malcolm looked up at the gray colored lanterns and the wavering sky. “How long have I been dead?” he asked. “Do you know?”
“Ten years,” I said. “You’ve been gone for ten years.”
A huff of breath was punched from him as he leaned heavily against one of the forming walls “That long, huh? I knew it was a while but…” he trailed off, ducking his head, hair falling across his face.
[[Are you okay?|Chapter Eleven Are you okay?]]
[[A lot of people felt your absence|If it helps, you were missed]]
[[Did you not expect to come back?]]
I got the feeling Malcolm was a man that hid his emotions well. That kept them close to his chest not out of a need for secrecy but because he did not like losing control. I could see the tremor though. It was so slight. But no one could greet the knowledge that life had moved on without them, with a warming smile.
“If it helps at all, you were missed,” I said, wanting to give him something to hang onto. “Your name is a name I’ve been hearing since I arrived. And not just from Hazel. I know you were the Gatekeeper but it seems like you left a hole in the world. You were obviously a well liked man.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I was just someone trying to do something.” He paused. “What did Hazel do to get me back?” he asked.
“I think you need to have that conversation with her.”
He visibly flinched at that, his hands twitching at his side. “So nothing good then.”
“She missed you. She speaks highly of you. Your pictures are still up around her apartment.” I was trying to ease the tension. What was done was done and there was very little we could do other than meet the consequences of this moment head on.
“How did you meet her?” he asked.
“I actually live with her. In the spare room upstairs. When I first came to the market, she was the one who helped me. Got my papers in order, gave me a roof over my head. Then everything started coming out about the Night Market dying and somehow I got roped into that. But, she’s come to be a good friend of mine. I don’t know if I agree with how she got you back but I’m glad she did. I don’t think she ever dealt with your death.”
“I knew she wouldn’t,” he said. There had to be some amount of guilt wrapped up in that statement. Knowing that his actions were the ones that prevented her from living the life she deserved. Despite Hazel being her own person, I doubted Malcolm was going to see his sister's pain as anything other than a responsibility he was going to have to carry.
“Here’s the thing about that night,” he started. “I knew I was going to die. Days before Kavatti even showed her face, I had a suspicion it was the end. And I was selfish. I holed up in Hazel’s apartment with her and Milo and soaked up every single second of the two of them I could get. I tried telling them a few times that I thought it would go bad but I didn’t have the heart. But I have a feeling it all went much worse than I was giving that moment credit for.”
I closed my eyes and pushed at something. As if a memory of that night was threatening to pop up. I didn’t want to see it though. I didn’t want to remember him dying.
“Tell me about you and Milo,” I said without thinking. “Tell me your version.” The storm raged. I could hear the gate opening, the tears that were falling as they pushed him through. I could hear Hazel’s shattered cry and the soft sound of Milo’s despair. I refused to open my eyes to it.
“In the beginning we were shitty people and didn’t know what it meant to be in love or what it meant to care for someone other than ourselves. Then, when we got older, we realized that sometimes we couldn’t be what we needed for each other. We got mean during those times. Not violent. Never violent. Just not caring like we should have been. We were in the same field of work. A lot of times we took opposite jobs. When we did that we’d break it off until the job was complete.”
The soft echoes of Hazel begging Milo to push him through began to fade. The smell of blood and salt becoming a distant memory once more.
“But I loved him,” I heard Malcolm say, focusing on his voice. “Still do. And I’m not talking as a lover or whatever he defines it as, but as a person. He is a mess of a man that brought me more joy than I ever thought I would find. And I was an angry person, Lamplight. Real angry. And Milo should have fucked off but instead, he taught me to be better. And in return, I hope I taught him he deserves more. But life is kind of funny that way. We never quite know when it’s going to end.” Turning to me, he sighed. “Open your eyes.”
When I did, I saw only Malcolm. The two of us standing there by the three-tiered fountain, the memories gone. “Thank you,” he said. “I didn’t want to see that night again either.”
I didn’t know what was happening, but my stomach rolled with the push of different moments. Little specks of conversation and walks through the market trying to scrape against me for their moment in the spotlight.
“We just need to get out of here,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be searching for down here. All these memories are doing is showing me bits of the past that are unhelpful.”
“I wouldn’t lock yourself down like that. If you are seeing these memories specifically, it’s for a reason. Maybe to help you understand the people you’re working with. Maybe the reason has yet to come. But everything happens with cause. Maybe the process is not something we enjoy, but rarely does the cosmic design here have so little of a plan.”
[[I’m just struggling to figure out what this all means]]
[[This is a waste of time]]I got the feeling Malcolm was a man that hid his emotions well. That kept them close to his chest not out of a need for secrecy but because he did not like losing control. I could see the tremor though. It was so slight. But no one could greet the knowledge that life had moved on without them, with a warming smile.
“Did you not expect to come back?” I asked him. It was like a secret that was passing between us. Something hidden within these folds of memories.
“I didn’t want to,” he confessed. His eyes were hollow as he stared just past my shoulder. Life had ended and was done for him and yet he was still here, not by his choice. “What did she do?” he asked numbly. “What did Hazel do to bring me home?”
“I think you need to have that conversation with her.”
He visibly flinched at that, his hands twitching at his side. “So nothing good then.”
“She missed you. She speaks highly of you. Your pictures are still up around her apartment.” I was trying to ease the tension. What was done was done and there was very little we could do other than meet the consequences of this moment head on.
“How did you meet her?” he asked.
“I actually live with her. In the spare room upstairs. When I first came to the market, she was the one who helped me. Got my papers in order, gave me a roof over my head. Then everything started coming out about the Night Market dying and somehow I got roped into that. But, she’s come to be a good friend of mine. I don’t know if I agree with how she got you back but I’m glad she did. I don’t think she ever dealt with your death.”
“I knew she wouldn’t,” he said. There had to be some amount of guilt wrapped up in that statement. Knowing that his actions were the ones that prevented her from living the life she deserved. Despite Hazel being her own person, I doubted Malcolm was going to see his sister's pain as anything other than a responsibility he was going to have to carry.
“Here’s the thing about that night,” he started. “I knew I was going to die. Days before Kavatti even showed her face, I had a suspicion it was the end. And I was selfish. I holed up in Hazel’s apartment with her and Milo and soaked up every single second of the two of them I could get. I tried telling them a few times that I thought it would go bad but I didn’t have the heart. But I have a feeling it all went much worse than I was giving that moment credit for.”
I closed my eyes and pushed at something. As if a memory of that night was threatening to pop up. I didn’t want to see it though. I didn’t want to remember him dying.
“Tell me about you and Milo,” I said without thinking. “Tell me your version.” The storm raged. I could hear the gate opening, the tears that were falling as they pushed him through. I could hear Hazel’s shattered cry and the soft sound of Milo’s despair. I refused to open my eyes to it.
“In the beginning we were shitty people and didn’t know what it meant to be in love or what it meant to care for someone other than ourselves. Then, when we got older, we realized that sometimes we couldn’t be what we needed for each other. We got mean during those times. Not violent. Never violent. Just not caring like we should have been. We were in the same field of work. A lot of times we took opposite jobs. When we did that we’d break it off until the job was complete.”
The soft echoes of Hazel begging Milo to push him through began to fade. The smell of blood and salt becoming a distant memory once more.
“But I loved him,” I heard Malcolm say, focusing on his voice. “Still do. And I’m not talking as a lover or whatever he defines it as, but as a person. He is a mess of a man that brought me more joy than I ever thought I would find. And I was an angry person, Lamplight. Real angry. And Milo should have fucked off but instead, he taught me to be better. And in return, I hope I taught him he deserves more. But life is kind of funny that way. We never quite know when it’s going to end.” Turning to me, he sighed. “Open your eyes.”
When I did, I saw only Malcolm. The two of us standing there by the three-tiered fountain, the memories gone. “Thank you,” he said. “I didn’t want to see that night again either.”
I didn’t know what was happening, but my stomach rolled with the push of different moments. Little specks of conversation and walks through the market trying to scrape against me for their moment in the spotlight.
“We just need to get out of here,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be searching for down here. All these memories are doing is showing me bits of the past that are unhelpful.”
“I wouldn’t lock yourself down like that. If you are seeing these memories specifically, it’s for a reason. Maybe to help you understand the people you’re working with. Maybe the reason has yet to come. But everything happens with cause. Maybe the process is not something we enjoy, but rarely does the cosmic design here have so little of a plan.”
[[I’m just struggling to figure out what this all means]]
[[This is a waste of time]]I got the feeling Malcolm was a man that hid his emotions well. That kept them close to his chest not out of a need for secrecy but because he did not like losing control. I could see the tremor though. It was so slight. No one wanted to face the fact that life had moved on without them. And they certainly didn’t want to do it with a warm smile.
“Malcolm,” I started. “Are you doing okay?” It was a lot. This all was a lot.
For a moment, I thought he was going to lie. Feed me a line. But instead, he shook his head, letting out a soft expulsion of breath. “Normally, I would try to spin this into something. A lesson or maybe a show of balance but…” he laughed, wiping a hand across his face. “Ten years, huh? It’s a drop in time and yet so long all at once.” He paused, the knowledge of the decade passed flitting across his eyes as he tried to breathe through it all. When he looked at me again, he only just had himself under control. “What did Hazel do to get me back?” he asked.
“I think you need to have that conversation with her.”
He visibly flinched at that, his hands twitching at his side. “So nothing good then.”
“She missed you. She speaks highly of you. Your pictures are still up around her apartment.” I was trying to ease the tension. What was done was done and there was very little we could do other than meet the consequences of this moment head on.
“How did you meet her?” he asked.
“I actually live with her. In the spare room upstairs. When I first came to the market, she was the one who helped me. Got my papers in order, gave me a roof over my head. Then everything started coming out about the Night Market dying and somehow I got roped into that. But, she’s come to be a good friend of mine. I don’t know if I agree with how she got you back but I’m glad she did. I don’t think she ever dealt with your death.”
“I knew she wouldn’t,” he said. There had to be some amount of guilt wrapped up in that statement. Knowing that his actions were the ones that prevented her from living the life she deserved. Despite Hazel being her own person, I doubted Malcolm was going to see his sister's pain as anything other than a responsibility he was going to have to carry.
“Here’s the thing about that night,” he started. “I knew I was going to die. Days before Kavatti even showed her face, I had a suspicion it was the end. And I was selfish. I holed up in Hazel’s apartment with her and Milo and soaked up every single second of the two of them I could get. I tried telling them a few times that I thought it would go bad but I didn’t have the heart. But I have a feeling it all went much worse than I was giving that moment credit for.”
I closed my eyes and pushed at something. As if a memory of that night was threatening to pop up. I didn’t want to see it though. I didn’t want to remember him dying.
“Tell me about you and Milo,” I said without thinking. “Tell me your version.” The storm raged. I could hear the gate opening, the tears that were falling as they pushed him through. I could hear Hazel’s shattered cry and the soft sound of Milo’s despair. I refused to open my eyes to it.
“In the beginning we were shitty people and didn’t know what it meant to be in love or what it meant to care for someone other than ourselves. Then, when we got older, we realized that sometimes we couldn’t be what we needed for each other. We got mean during those times. Not violent. Never violent. Just not caring like we should have been. We were in the same field of work. A lot of times we took opposite jobs. When we did that we’d break it off until the job was complete.”
The soft echoes of Hazel begging Milo to push him through began to fade. The smell of blood and salt becoming a distant memory once more.
“But I loved him,” I heard Malcolm say, focusing on his voice. “Still do. And I’m not talking as a lover or whatever he defines it as, but as a person. He is a mess of a man that brought me more joy than I ever thought I would find. And I was an angry person, Lamplight. Real angry. And Milo should have fucked off but instead, he taught me to be better. And in return, I hope I taught him he deserves more. But life is kind of funny that way. We never quite know when it’s going to end.” Turning to me, he sighed. “Open your eyes.”
When I did, I saw only Malcolm. The two of us standing there by the three-tiered fountain, the memories gone. “Thank you,” he said. “I didn’t want to see that night again either.”
I didn’t know what was happening, but my stomach rolled with the push of different moments. Little specks of conversation and walks through the market trying to scrape against me for their moment in the spotlight.
“We just need to get out of here,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be searching for down here. All these memories are doing is showing me bits of the past that are unhelpful.”
“I wouldn’t lock yourself down like that. If you are seeing these memories specifically, it’s for a reason. Maybe to help you understand the people you’re working with. Maybe the reason has yet to come. But everything happens with cause. Maybe the process is not something we enjoy, but rarely does the cosmic design here have so little of a plan.”
[[I’m just struggling to figure out what this all means]]
[[This is a waste of time]]“I have a plan though. I’ve had a plan for a while but I don’t know what all of this is supposed to mean or how these memories are supposed to contribute what we are trying to find out.”
“You’re not looking at the bigger picture,” Malcolm urged.
“There is no big picture,” I told him. “I need to find the Gatekeeper. And up until tonight, I was somewhat holding out hope that they would be you. But now I feel as if I am right back to where we started again. Not knowing what’s going on. And no closer to finding the very person that apparently is the key to this entire mess.”
The expression Malcolm gave me was one of deep confusion. His arms were crossed in front of him as he tried to suss out if I was playing a game. Running my words back over in his head it was clear though that what I was speaking of, and what he knew, were at odds.
“What?” I asked him, my shoulders slumping as wave after wave of frustration began to wash over me.
“Is that what you all have been trying to do? Find the Gatekeeper?”
“Yes,” I said exasperated. “We are gaining bits of each Baron's power. Hazel thinks she can do a ritual once we receive them all. If we take the pillars of the Night Market we can potentially call forward the Gatekeeper’s name. At least then we can find them. Make them close the gates that are constantly opening before it rips the market in two. It might not be a fix but it can be a bandage for a little bit. Buy us some time.”
Licking his lips, Malcolm still regarded me with confusion. “To become a Baron, you have to be there when the old Baron dies.”
“Yes. I know this. It has been repeated ad nauseam. But Kavatti messed up and she couldn’t become the Gatekeeper since she already was a Baron.” It was the main point of frustration, the wall we had been running into over and over again.
“But Hazel and Milo were both there,” Malcolm said after a long beat.
“But neither of them have that power.”
Tipping his head to the side, he regarded me carefully. There was something hidden in his gaze. An answer that perhaps I just hadn’t wanted to see. “You sure about that?” he asked.
[[Next|The Gatekeeper]]
“I have a plan though. I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’m supposed to be collecting the Baron's favors and finding the Gatekeeper. Walking down memory lane, seeing how these people I’ve come to know got here, is a waste of time. All of this,” I gestured to my surroundings. “Is a waste of time. Watching Belladonna grieve for her parents, watching Gabriel fall, Hazel and Milo cower in fear. What does that get me, Malcolm? I still don’t know who the Gatekeeper is. I still don’t have the Barons favors. I still am running through this entire world in the dark, trying to keep myself safe and yet not knowing how to do any of it,” I shouted.
The expression Malcolm gave me was one of deep confusion. His arms were crossed in front of him as he tried to suss out if I was playing a game. Running my words back over in his head it was clear though that what I was speaking of, and what he knew, were at odds.
“What?” I asked him, my shoulders slumping as wave after wave of frustration began to wash over me.
“Is that what you all have been trying to do? Find the Gatekeeper?”
“Yes,” I said exasperated. “We are gaining bits of each Baron's power. Hazel thinks she can do a ritual once we receive them all. If we take the pillars of the Night Market we can potentially call forward the Gatekeeper’s name. At least then we can find them. Make them close the gates that are constantly opening before it rips the market in two. It might not be a fix but it can be a bandage for a little bit. Buy us some time.”
Licking his lips, Malcolm still regarded me with confusion. “To become a Baron, you have to be there when the old Baron dies.”
“Yes. I know this. It has been repeated ad nauseam. But Kavatti messed up and she couldn’t become the Gatekeeper since she already was a Baron.” It was the main point of frustration, the wall we had been running into over and over again.
“But Hazel and Milo were both there,” Malcolm said after a long beat.
“But neither of them have that power.”
Tipping his head to the side, he regarded me carefully. There was something hidden in his gaze. An answer that perhaps I just hadn’t wanted to see. “You sure about that?” he asked.
[[Next|The Gatekeeper]]
I blinked. “Yes. They would have said something by now. It’s not like I’ve been doing this alone. Both Hazel and Milo have been involved. They both know what I’m attempting to do and…” I trailed off.
Around me, the gray lanterns flickered, dimming and brightening with each swell of breath and beat of my heart. The soft flitting sound of wind died between the alleyways and the distant whir of other souls wandering the streets drifted away.
“All of them have been involved but one, right?” Malcolm asked softly. “There’s one that hasn’t been around the other Barons. Or has made themselves scarce each time you’ve been in their presence. Because Barons cannot be in the same room as other Barons.”
I stared at him, my heart stopping. The pained look that was on his face was one of betrayal. A reflection of my own.
Milo.
Milo was the Gatekeeper.
[[No. No that didn’t make sense. Milo wouldn’t do that]]
[[I’m going to kill him]]
[[Why would he not tell us?]]I shook my head. “No,” I told him, taking one step back. As if Malcolm’s words were the betrayal. Not what was clearly right in front of me. “No. That doesn’t make sense. Why would Milo try to hide this? Why would he lie?”
“I don’t know,” Malcolm said, voice saddened by the pain on my face.
“No. He isn’t it. We are jumping to conclusions here. It isn’t Milo.”
“Does he wear a ring?”
“Your ring,” I nearly shouted. “He wears your ring.”
“Maybe it is,” he said. “But it’s also his.”
No. No no no. I shook my head repeatedly, walking away. But I could see it now. Milo hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Barons. Everyone else had come with me, protected me during those meetings, but Milo had always kept his distance. Because the Barons were not allowed to be around each other. They were not allowed to converse outside the monthly meeting.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Why would he lie to me like that?” I asked, this time with heartache lacing my words.
Malcolm’s voice went soft. “I don’t know.”<</if>>
I slumped back against the brick wall. Milo Next was the Gatekeeper. He had been there when Malcolm had died. Held him in his arms as the power had passed. Straight into him.
[[Is Milo destroying the Night Market?]]
[[Do you think there is a possibility he is in over his head with this]]
[[Please tell me he has a reason for betraying us like this]]Milo hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Barons. Everyone else had come with me, protected me during those meetings, but Milo had always kept his distance. Because the Barons were not allowed to be around each other. They were not allowed to converse outside the monthly meeting.
“I’m going to kill him,” I said, teeth gritted and fingers curling inwards. The audacity of that man. How many times had he been present as we mulled over our frustrations of not knowing who the Gatekeeper was? How many times had lies rolled from his tongue in blatant misdirection? He had known what he was doing the entire time and let us all run in every direction but towards him. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Then you would become the Gatekeeper,” Malcolm said drolly. “Which may solve some of your problems but I have a feeling it would actually just create an entirely new set. So I don’t suggest it.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Why would he lie to me like that?” I asked, this time with heartache lacing my words.
Malcolm’s voice went soft. “I don’t know.”<</if>>
I slumped back against the brick wall. Milo Next was the Gatekeeper. He had been there when Malcolm had died. Held him in his arms as the power had passed. Straight into him.
[[Is Milo destroying the Night Market?]]
[[Do you think there is a possibility he is in over his head with this]]
[[Please tell me he has a reason for betraying us like this]]My stomach twisted with the information. Milo hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Barons. Everyone else had come with me, protected me during those meetings, but Milo had always kept his distance. Because the Barons were not allowed to be around each other. They were not allowed to converse outside the monthly meeting.
How many times had he been present as we mulled over our frustrations of not knowing who the Gatekeeper was? How many times had lies rolled from his tongue in blatant misdirection? He had known what he was doing the entire time and let us all run in every direction but towards him.
Lifting my gaze towards Malcolm, I could feel the hurt radiating from me. “Why would he not tell us?” I asked. “What was the point in keeping any of this from us?”
I was a fool. He wore the damn ring. It was there plain as day on his hand and when asked about it, he wove a tale of the man he had loved and lost.
“Why would he do this?” I asked, feeling my heart starting to break. The question was a broken one that kept playing on repeat. I couldn’t tell if I was even asking it out loud anymore, so blinded by all the little moments that I should have seen, now laughing at me from my past. “Why would he lie like this?”
“I don’t know,” Malcolm said, pain clearly lacing each of his words. Whatever Malcolm had expected me to find out tonight, it had clearly not been this. He had assumed Milo had already told us and was working by our side.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Why would he lie to me like that?” I asked, this time with heartache lacing my words.
Malcolm’s voice went soft. “I don’t know.”<</if>>
I slumped back against the brick wall. Milo Next was the Gatekeeper. He had been there when Malcolm had died. Held him in his arms as the power had passed. Straight into him.
[[Is Milo destroying the Night Market?]]
[[Do you think there is a possibility he is in over his head with this]]
[[Please tell me he has a reason for betraying us like this]]“So is Milo destroying the Night Market?”
Malcolm leaned next to me on the wall, staring at the lanterns above. “There are a lot of things that could be said about Milo but he doesn’t harm anyone out of enjoyment. You saw what happened to him. You know where he comes from. Milo doesn’t have it in him. Not the Milo I knew at least.”
“Your death changed him though. What if…?”
“No. No he had to have a reason. I just don’t know what that reason is.”
I scrubbed a hand across my face. “Well, then it sounds like we need to get out of here and go find him. Make him give us some answers.”
“Not yet.”
I had been halfway down the next street when his words floated towards me. Whipping back around, I could see that Malcolm had yet to move.
Above me, the lanterns dimmed.
“Not yet? What do you mean not yet? What else am I supposed to find out, Malcolm? Isn’t this enough?”
Malcolm looked at me sadly. “There’s still one more thing, Lamplight. One thing that you’re missing.”
“My entire time within the Night Market feels like one big thing I’ve been missing,” I cried out. “I was dropped here, placed on these damn streets and dragged to the Velvet Guard. I have no memory of where I came from. I don’t even know if my name is actually $name. And I set out with the intent to find who I was, to find my way home, and ended up getting involved in a plot to find the Gatekeeper. <<if $miloro == "true">>The Gatekeeper, who ended up being the man I’ve been involved with, no less. The man whose bed I share once a week.<</if>> What else am I supposed to know here?”
“Think,” Malcolm urged. “Think about everything you’ve been through. How did you come to the market?”
“Through a tear,” I said. “I fell through a tear.” We didn’t have time for this. Whatever Malcolm was trying to lead me to was something that was crashing against my mind in a near deafening way but all I wanted was to rip my way out of this gray expanse we found ourselves in.
“And the lanterns,” he continued. “Has anything odd happened to the lanterns with you around?”
“No.” But I couldn’t be sure. During the Lantern Festival, when they had all gone out, I had fallen into blackness, feeling pain so severe I nearly passed out.
“Think about it. Do you know things that maybe you shouldn’t? Do people seem to just innately know you? Feel close to you without really spending time with you? Think about this space,” he said. “Think about where we are at. The memories we’ve seen. Whose memories are they?”
“My friends,” I said weakly.
“Why do you have the memories of your friends?”
“I… it's just this place. The memories are kept here. They’re on loop. You probably knew how to find them…” My tongue suddenly felt thick in my mouth and I felt lightheaded.
“Why would I have access to any of Belladonna and Gabriel’s memories?” he asked, stepping closer as I swayed on my feet. “Why would I know how they came to the market? The moments they spent with each other?”
“I….”
“Think,” he said, his face closer to mine. “You’re almost there. Just think.”
The world around us shook as the cobblestone walls began to crumble around us and the lanterns swayed on the thin wires above. They began snapping as they fell to the ground in small bits of paper and ash. As the roar of the world around me became a reflection of my own mind and somewhere, somewhere off in the distance, another tear shredded across me, opening my sky to save another lost family who was crying out for help to forces that simply would not listen.
“They’re my memories,” I said numbly. Malcolm nodded his head, asking me to take a step further. “They all happened here.” I looked up towards the swaying lanterns above, the grey swirls of colorless light. “I’m the Night Market, aren’t I?”
At once the lanterns turned out, bursting to life in a bright amber that rained down around us in golden champagne pops of glitter. Malcolm was close. I could feel the warmth of his hands on my shoulders as he tried to keep a hold of me but I felt like I was suddenly being torn apart. Like that cozy comforter that I longed to be wrapped up in was suddenly stripped away, leaving me bare and alone as a cacophony of noise and thoughts and every feeling imaginable shot through me until it was my own scream echoing through the world.
[[As the world settled, I found myself curled in a ball]]
[[As the world settled, I found myself curled against Malcolm]]
[[As the world settled, I stood up to face it]]It didn’t sit right. Milo was a lot of things and most of those things were carefully held secrets of his. But I couldn’t believe he would knowingly put the Night Market in danger. Not with the way he seemed to love the city streets and the taverns and the people. Milo consumed life to its fullest. It didn’t make sense.
“Do you think there is a possibility he is in over his head with all this?” The role was thrust upon him. Maybe Milo was simply now hiding from his responsibilities. Or maybe he truly didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing.
“He is not a man that does well shouldering the weight of something important,” Malcolm said. “He wants to be, but he has always buckled under that weight. I don’t know what all is going on now but I suspect that being in over his head is a good description for whatever Milo is doing.”
I scrubbed a hand across my face. “Well, then it sounds like we need to get out of here and go find him. Make him give us some answers.”
“Not yet.”
I had been halfway down the next street when his words floated towards me. Whipping back around, I could see that Malcolm had yet to move.
Above me, the lanterns dimmed.
“Not yet? What do you mean not yet? What else am I supposed to find out, Malcolm? Isn’t this enough?”
Malcolm looked at me sadly. “There’s still one more thing, Lamplight. One thing that you’re missing.”
“My entire time within the Night Market feels like one big thing I’ve been missing,” I cried out. “I was dropped here, placed on these damn streets and dragged to the Velvet Guard. I have no memory of where I came from. I don’t even know if my name is actually $name. And I set out with the intent to find who I was, to find my way home, and ended up getting involved in a plot to find the Gatekeeper. <<if $miloro == "true">>The Gatekeeper, who ended up being the man I’ve been involved with, no less. The man whose bed I share once a week.<</if>> What else am I supposed to know here?”
“Think,” Malcolm urged. “Think about everything you’ve been through. How did you come to the market?”
“Through a tear,” I said. “I fell through a tear.” We didn’t have time for this. Whatever Malcolm was trying to lead me to was something that was crashing against my mind in a near deafening way but all I wanted was to rip my way out of this gray expanse we found ourselves in.
“And the lanterns,” he continued. “Has anything odd happened to the lanterns with you around?”
“No.” But I couldn’t be sure. During the Lantern Festival, when they had all gone out, I had fallen into blackness, feeling pain so severe I nearly passed out.
“Think about it. Do you know things that maybe you shouldn’t? Do people seem to just innately know you? Feel close to you without really spending time with you? Think about this space,” he said. “Think about where we are at. The memories we’ve seen. Whose memories are they?”
“My friends,” I said weakly.
“Why do you have the memories of your friends?”
“I… it's just this place. The memories are kept here. They’re on loop. You probably knew how to find them…” My tongue suddenly felt thick in my mouth and I felt lightheaded.
“Why would I have access to any of Belladonna and Gabriel’s memories?” he asked, stepping closer as I swayed on my feet. “Why would I know how they came to the market? The moments they spent with each other?”
“I….”
“Think,” he said, his face closer to mine. “You’re almost there. Just think.”
The world around us shook as the cobblestone walls began to crumble around us and the lanterns swayed on the thin wires above. They began snapping as they fell to the ground in small bits of paper and ash. As the roar of the world around me became a reflection of my own mind and somewhere, somewhere off in the distance, another tear shredded across me, opening my sky to save another lost family who was crying out for help to forces that simply would not listen.
“They’re my memories,” I said numbly. Malcolm nodded his head, asking me to take a step further. “They all happened here.” I looked up towards the swaying lanterns above, the grey swirls of colorless light. “I’m the Night Market, aren’t I?”
At once the lanterns turned out, bursting to life in a bright amber that rained down around us in golden champagne pops of glitter. Malcolm was close. I could feel the warmth of his hands on my shoulders as he tried to keep a hold of me but I felt like I was suddenly being torn apart. Like that cozy comforter that I longed to be wrapped up in was suddenly stripped away, leaving me bare and alone as a cacophony of noise and thoughts and every feeling imaginable shot through me until it was my own scream echoing through the world.
[[As the world settled, I found myself curled in a ball]]
[[As the world settled, I found myself curled against Malcolm]]
[[As the world settled, I stood up to face it]]I was unsure if I simply wished not to believe it or if the idea felt so abhorrent that I couldn’t. The idea of Milo continuing to sit around and say nothing to us as we played chess with each Baron felt like a betrayal with no cause. Chaos was often something Milo laughed in the face of but he didn’t seem like a man to blatantly do something because a whim dictated it.
“Please tell me that if Milo were to betray us, there would be a reason for it.”
“He is not a man that does well shouldering the weight of something important,” Malcolm said. “He wants to be, but he has always buckled under that weight. I don’t know what all is going on now but I suspect that being in over his head is a good description for whatever Milo is doing.”
I scrubbed a hand across my face. “Well, then it sounds like we need to get out of here and go find him. Make him give us some answers.”
“Not yet.”
I had been halfway down the next street when his words floated towards me. Whipping back around, I could see that Malcolm had yet to move.
Above me, the lanterns dimmed.
“Not yet? What do you mean not yet? What else am I supposed to find out, Malcolm? Isn’t this enough?”
Malcolm looked at me sadly. “There’s still one more thing, Lamplight. One thing that you’re missing.”
“My entire time within the Night Market feels like one big thing I’ve been missing,” I cried out. “I was dropped here, placed on these damn streets and dragged to the Velvet Guard. I have no memory of where I came from. I don’t even know if my name is actually $name. And I set out with the intent to find who I was, to find my way home, and ended up getting involved in a plot to find the Gatekeeper. <<if $miloro == "true">>The Gatekeeper, who ended up being the man I’ve been involved with, no less. The man whose bed I share once a week.<</if>> What else am I supposed to know here?”
“Think,” Malcolm urged. “Think about everything you’ve been through. How did you come to the market?”
“Through a tear,” I said. “I fell through a tear.” We didn’t have time for this. Whatever Malcolm was trying to lead me to was something that was crashing against my mind in a near deafening way but all I wanted was to rip my way out of this gray expanse we found ourselves in.
“And the lanterns,” he continued. “Has anything odd happened to the lanterns with you around?”
“No.” But I couldn’t be sure. During the Lantern Festival, when they had all gone out, I had fallen into blackness, feeling pain so severe I nearly passed out.
“Think about it. Do you know things that maybe you shouldn’t? Do people seem to just innately know you? Feel close to you without really spending time with you? Think about this space,” he said. “Think about where we are at. The memories we’ve seen. Whose memories are they?”
“My friends,” I said weakly.
“Why do you have the memories of your friends?”
“I… it's just this place. The memories are kept here. They’re on loop. You probably knew how to find them…” My tongue suddenly felt thick in my mouth and I felt lightheaded.
“Why would I have access to any of Belladonna and Gabriel’s memories?” he asked, stepping closer as I swayed on my feet. “Why would I know how they came to the market? The moments they spent with each other?”
“I….”
“Think,” he said, his face closer to mine. “You’re almost there. Just think.”
The world around us shook as the cobblestone walls began to crumble around us and the lanterns swayed on the thin wires above. They began snapping as they fell to the ground in small bits of paper and ash. As the roar of the world around me became a reflection of my own mind and somewhere, somewhere off in the distance, another tear shredded across me, opening my sky to save another lost family who was crying out for help to forces that simply would not listen.
“They’re my memories,” I said numbly. Malcolm nodded his head, asking me to take a step further. “They all happened here.” I looked up towards the swaying lanterns above, the grey swirls of colorless light. “I’m the Night Market, aren’t I?”
At once the lanterns turned out, bursting to life in a bright amber that rained down around us in golden champagne pops of glitter. Malcolm was close. I could feel the warmth of his hands on my shoulders as he tried to keep a hold of me but I felt like I was suddenly being torn apart. Like that cozy comforter that I longed to be wrapped up in was suddenly stripped away, leaving me bare and alone as a cacophony of noise and thoughts and every feeling imaginable shot through me until it was my own scream echoing through the world.
[[As the world settled, I found myself curled in a ball]]
[[As the world settled, I found myself curled against Malcolm]]
[[As the world settled, I stood up to face it]]Blinking, I watched as the world slowly righted itself again. I was curled in on myself, feeling the slow passage of time. The walls of the market were gone now and I no longer felt as if we existed inside that liminal space we had once been. Instead, he seemed to be nowhere and everywhere at once. Two people floating within a faded world, trying desperately to hold on.
I felt the ache in my chest ease as I looked at Malcolm. “I’m the Night Market,” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“You call me Lamplight.”
There was something pained in that, but Malcolm nodded all the same. “Because I was made to protect you. I am so sorry I haven’t been able to do my job.”
Around me, lavender smoke began to swirl, the musty scent of moss impeding my senses as the damp air coated my lungs. Malcolm took a few steps back as the lanterns above began flickering, this time with bright cosmic lights instead of the gray luminosity that had been dying the more I rejected my thoughts.
I looked towards Malcolm. Not sure if I was asking him what was happening or if I was just trying to keep a hold of the one image that seemed to hold a modicum of truth to it.
“You know what you need to,” he said with a small smile. “Time to go home and finish this all.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he tipped his head towards me. “Be seeing you.”
My eyes snapped open.
[[Next|Chapter 11 8]]
The steady sound of a heartbeat was against my ear. Malcolm's arms were around me, cradling me close to his chest. His steady presence began to calm me as I felt the slow passage of time spiral away from us. The walls of the market were gone now and I no longer felt as if we existed inside that liminal space we had once been. Instead, he seemed to be nowhere and everywhere at once. Two people floating within a faded world, trying desperately to hold on.
I felt the ache in my chest ease as I looked at Malcolm. “I’m the Night Market,” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“You call me Lamplight.”
There was something pained in that, but Malcolm nodded all the same. “Because I was made to protect you. I am so sorry I haven’t been able to do my job.”
Around me, lavender smoke began to swirl, the musty scent of moss impeding my senses as the damp air coated my lungs. Malcolm took a few steps back as the lanterns above began flickering, this time with bright cosmic lights instead of the gray luminosity that had been dying the more I rejected my thoughts.
I looked towards Malcolm. Not sure if I was asking him what was happening or if I was just trying to keep a hold of the one image that seemed to hold a modicum of truth to it.
“You know what you need to,” he said with a small smile. “Time to go home and finish this all.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he tipped his head towards me. “Be seeing you.”
My eyes snapped open.
[[Next|Chapter 11 8]]
The world slowed. It dripped around me in a molasses like crawl as I opened my eyes, blinking at the faded world that surrounded us. Pushing myself upwards, I slowly made my way to my own feet, the weight of who I was beginning to settle against me. A thought that was trying to welcome me home.
I felt the ache in my chest ease as I looked at Malcolm. “I’m the Night Market,” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“You call me Lamplight.”
There was something pained in that, but Malcolm nodded all the same. “Because I was made to protect you. I am so sorry I haven’t been able to do my job.”
Around me, lavender smoke began to swirl, the musty scent of moss impeding my senses as the damp air coated my lungs. Malcolm took a few steps back as the lanterns above began flickering, this time with bright cosmic lights instead of the gray luminosity that had been dying the more I rejected my thoughts.
I looked towards Malcolm. Not sure if I was asking him what was happening or if I was just trying to keep a hold of the one image that seemed to hold a modicum of truth to it.
“You know what you need to,” he said with a small smile. “Time to go home and finish this all.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he tipped his head towards me. “Be seeing you.”
My eyes snapped open.
[[Next|Chapter 11 8]]
A woman sat at the edge of the well, the purple rising from its depths. The pillars of each Baron surrounded me, the Gatekeeper’s one flickering brightly, shot through with the amber color of Milo’s eyes and the jangling keys he often wore on his belt. I shook my head at the sight of it, as I sat up. The woman before me was younger than Neve, but with the same skin tone and hair. She had a kind smile and hands that looked rough with work.
“Hello, Night Market,” she said, her voice soft and lilting.
I remembered now. I remember who I was. That last bit of puzzle slotted into place.
“It’s going to be confusing to you in the upcoming days,” she said. “While you are the one in which we all live upon, you are not. You are a small section that has been taken from the whole. If you wish, we can teach you how to access your memories. But it’s probably best that you wait. Let the dust settle. I know you and Malcolm had much to talk about.”
I felt less woozy than I had in days but the headache still lingered. My body felt battered and bruised despite the cobwebs that I felt had been cleared from my eyes. “Are you the Fates? One of the sisters?”
“Ariel,” she said with a small bow. “The maiden.”
Standing, I felt myself shake. It was as if I was trying to fit back in my body. My insides rearranging into something that could stand and join the world once more “I suppose I don’t need to ask you for your favor.” How different would this journey have been if I had simply met them first. Or, I suppose more accurately, if I had just known who Neve was from the moment I set foot in the Spice District.
Or Milo.
“No,” she said with a small laugh. “You do not. Though we would freely give it if you so desired. If you need confirmation about the Gatekeeper.”
“You know?”
“We know.” Her eyes ticked towards the pillar. It seemed to be shifting between tranquility and bright panic. I could feel it rolling off of the stone column in deep and rumbling waves. “We knew from the moment it happened. We had to tell him to stop coming to the kafe stall. It was against the rules.”
“So Milo also knew?” It was the last bit of hope I had been clinging to. There was a small part of me that wanted to believe Milo was in the dark about it all. But the maiden looked at me with such deep unwavering sadness, I knew I could not pretend any further.
“I am afraid so.”
I nodded, allowing myself a moment for it all to sink in. “Do you know what is going to happen? Why he did all this?”
“We do,” she said with a nod. “But the strands of fate are never to be shared. They play out whether there is an attempt to thwart them or not. Often times, they over correct and knot themselves into something far far worse.”
“I already feel this has been knotted into something so much worse,” I confessed.
“I am sure it feels like that. But now that you know, you can go forward. You can choose how life is shaped.”
I shook my head. “How am I supposed to choose how life is shaped if the threads of fate are always the same?”
She smiled, giggling behind a hand. Dipping her fingers down into the water, they came up wet, a gel like substance dripping from her fingers.
“What you need to remember, Night Market, is this is your world. We walk upon your back. We live within your soul and are wrapped in your hold. You no longer need to traverse this world blind.”
And yet, I still felt like I knew nothing. The information that should have been coursing through me with blatant understanding was still an underground current. A silent river that was tumble across deep stones. “But how do I not?”
“Time. Time will come. An event that will shape everything. That will force you to wake up or to simply lay down and die.”
“Can’t you tell me which it is?”
“This is one strand of fate, that has not yet been woven.” Standing, Ariel came over to me, her movements languid, as if she walked through water. “You still need to pull your destiny and decide how you wish to shape the world from this point forward. But do know, we, The Baron of the Fates, humbly bow to your wishes.”
[[Next|Chapter 11 9]]
<<set $fates to "true">>
<<set $gatekeeper to "true">>I walked back to Hazel’s apothecary with my head full. So much had happened. So much had been learned.
The Night Market.
I had a name for myself.
Yet, I wasn’t sure it was one that I felt. Whether I wanted it or not this was who I was. But what did it mean for me? This little part that for some reason, had been given the chance to walk around among everyone, holding their hands and sharing in their light.
[[The revelation was overwhelming]]
[[The revelation didn’t make sense]]
[[The revelation left me angry at the world around me]]
<img src="images/Ch12.png"
height="300" width="900">
“Are you sure?”
Hazel’s voice wavered, like a flickering candle, uncertain about their presence in the dark. She sat on the ratty sofa downstairs, a pot of untouched tea steaming in the center of the table. Next to her, Malcolm was hunched forward with his fingers laced together. Pain still bruised beneath his eyes and walking had been an ordeal. He had been adamant he wanted to be downstairs for this meeting though.
Across the small table, sat Gabriel, clothed in full Warden regalia. He had been on patrol when Hazel had gotten him the message to come to the apothecary. It said something that he stopped nearly everything to meet us here. Belladonna was of course, absent, but none of us were surprised at this point.
“I mean,” Hazel continued. “How can we be certain, really.”
Malcolm had his chin resting on his fingers, staring straight ahead into the rising steam of the oolong. “Because I’ve been stalking you guys for a while and my job was literally to protect ?them.”
Hazel had that look on her face that screamed that she was overwhelmed. As she took a deep and shaky breath, she tried to nod along to what Malcolm was saying but it was clear that not even she knew what this would mean for all of us.
Gabriel cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “So, you are the Night Market.”
I nodded my head once.
Silence hovered around us, the weight of what I was, what I had become, sitting like gently wafting waves, lapping at our feet.
I was the Night Market.
The sentient being who was walking this realm that everyone referred to. I had small memories, little bits of information that were slowly making sense to me now, that should have ticked me off from the beginning. The fact that I knew information I shouldn’t. That I had little trouble navigating the streets. That while I was supposedly in a foreign world with no memories, I still was able to have base knowledge of how the world itself worked.
The way I just knew, with each one of the people I had met, who I needed to stick close to. I had little doubt in my mind that falling where I did that day, being dragged to the docks by the Velvet Guard, was anything orchestrated by Fate. It was much more plausible that I did this. That I wanted to be here.
But why?
“This is a lot,” Hazel said. She had been saying it since I first told her. Malcolm for the most part had been silent, letting the others soak in the knowledge that I was some sort of cosmic entity. Or at least a small piece of one, sent down to repair myself.
“It makes sense though,” I said with some ounce of reason. “I don’t think a sane person would have jumped into all this unless there was some self-preservation involved.”
I had barely hesitated. I had gone along with their scheme to contact each Baron almost immediately. There were moments, brief moments, where I wondered why I was doing any of it. Where I sought out a reason as to why I was blindly going along with this plan. It had never been a struggle, however. The Market was dying, so there was no reason not to help. I would have to help.
Because I was dying.
“$name?” Gabriel started.
My eyes flicked upwards. “Sorry,” I said quickly. “It’s new to me too.”
Suddenly what we were doing seemed all the more important. Though, now we didn’t need the Barons. We didn’t need their favors. We had the name of the Gatekeeper. Everything we had been doing felt like a runaround designed to stall us for the time being. But the puzzle that was slowly starting to piece together in my head had jagged holes that brought forth a blinding pain if I thought too long and hard about it.
“And– and Milo is the Gatekeeper?” Hazel asked, her voice ticking up in distress.
I looked at her, seeing the pain that was reflected in her eyes. She hadn’t seen it. Her oldest friend lied to her face for the better part of a decade, and she hadn’t seen it. And the reason she hadn’t, was sitting right next to her.
The door to the apothecary burst open the rain outside wetting the entryway as Belladonna strode in. She had two people trailing behind her, stationing themselves outside the front door. With a flick of her wrist, the door closed. She wore a lace bodysuit, her hair pulled up high and off her neck, and a pair of heels that I was uncertain she could safely walk in. She looked every inch the Baron she now was.
“So nice of you to join us, Bella,” Gabriel said.
Plopping down on the arm of his chair, she stared at me directly. “What did I miss?” I was still reeling from her entrance and trying to figure out where to even begin when she sighed dramatically. <<if $belladonnaro == "true">>“I’m sorry, my heart. It’s been a hell of a time trying to get everyone to accept that I’m a Baron. I couldn’t come right away.”<<elseif $belladonnaro == "false">>“I’m sorry, dear heart. It’s been a hell of a time trying to get everyone to accept that I’m a Baron. I couldn’t come right away.”<</if>>
I stared at her. “You just really wanted to say that you’re a Baron, didn’t you.”
She smiled one of the biggest smiles I had ever seen on her, winking at me in the process. Then, crossing one leg over the other, she settled. “Putting my new-found Baronhood aside, what is the topic of this meeting?”
“Apparently,” Gabriel said. “Mr. Next is the Gatekeeper.”
Belladonna’s head snapped to his, her eyes widening a fraction. “That little shit.” Gabriel only hummed in response, clearly in agreement. “And how do we know this for certain?”
“You mean aside from the ring he wears on his hand?” Malcolm asked.
Belladonna looked over at him, seeming to have forgotten that Malcolm was even there. “It is good to see you up and about, Albright.”
“Congratulations on the new job,” Malcolm said with a tight smile.
“Sorry about your demotion. Now, what are we doing about dear old Milo?”
[[I don't know. I still can't figure out how I missed this]]
[[We need to find him and talk to him]]
[[We need to ask the question, if he is working with or against us]]
Ever since walking away from the Fates, I had been asking myself that question. It went in tandem with my new-found identity. The signs had been there. They had been blaring. But, I was distracted by the world around me and adjusting to walking through the market streets. Yes, Milo had lied, but we had also chosen not to see.
“I don’t know,” I told them. “I don’t even know what can be done about this.”
Gabriel had gone by the distillery on his way over and it had been dark. Hazel had sent out messages that were never received. <<if $miloro == "true">>I was now realizing, that despite spending the better part of the last few months with the man, I had no idea where he hung out, where he would go, or what he was even doing when he was not here.<</if>> Milo remained illusive. Lost to the market streets with the clear statement that he did not wish to be found.
Hazel shook her head. “I mean, we could check the taverns. The Spice District?”
Malcolm leaned back in his seat. “If he knows his game is up, he isn’t going to be anywhere near his normal haunts. Not that he kept normal haunts. Milo made sure not to be too familiar anywhere for these specific reasons.”
I frowned at that. Milo having connections but at the same time keeping them at arms length felt highly significant somehow. <<if $miloro == "true">>Another thing, I had not noticed.<</if>>
“I just don’t understand. How?” Hazel asked. “I was there that night too. I would have seen something. I should have known.”
There was remorse on Malcolm’s features as he looked at his sister. Arguably, this was going to hit Hazel the hardest. The stages of grief were playing out right before us. “I’m not going to lie, you not knowing is something that surprised me. But this is Milo we’re talking about. He’s a thief and a con artist. And he’s damn good at his job.”
[[He just didn’t act like that]]
[[That was Milo ten years ago]]
[[We were so worried about the Barons, we never considered he would be playing us]]“We need to find him first,” I said.
“Will finding him make a difference?” Gabriel asked. “If he has been lying for this long, confirmation does not usually just come easily, even in the face of clear evidence.”
Hazel shook her head. “You are speaking of him like he is a criminal.”
“Isn’t he?” Gabriel challenged.
I could see this was going to be a conversation that would not end well unless given some direction. “We aren’t passing judgement right this moment. We need to find him and give him the opportunity to explain. Then we can decide what we are doing with him.” <<if $miloro == "true">> //I// needed answers. And after everything we had gone through together, I felt as if I deserved them far more than anyone else in this room.<</if>>
Gabriel had gone by the distillery on his way over and it had been dark. Hazel had sent out messages that were never received. <<if $miloro == "true">>I was now realizing, that despite spending the better part of the last few months with the man, I had no idea where he hung out, where he would go, or what he was even doing when he was not here.<</if>> Milo remained illusive. Lost to the market streets with the clear statement that he did not wish to be found.
Hazel shook her head. “I mean, we could check the taverns. The Spice District?”
Malcolm leaned back in his seat. “If he knows his game is up, he isn’t going to be anywhere near his normal haunts. Not that he kept normal haunts. Milo made sure not to be too familiar anywhere for these specific reasons.”
I frowned at that. Milo having connections but at the same time keeping them at arms length felt highly significant somehow. <<if $miloro == "true">>Another thing, I had not noticed.<</if>>
“I just don’t understand. How?” Hazel asked. “I was there that night too. I would have seen something. I should have known.”
There was remorse on Malcolm’s features as he looked at his sister. Arguably, this was going to hit Hazel the hardest. The stages of grief were playing out right before us. “I’m not going to lie, you not knowing is something that surprised me. But this is Milo we’re talking about. He’s a thief and a con artist. And he’s damn good at his job.”
[[He just didn’t act like that]]
[[That was Milo ten years ago]]
[[We were so worried about the Barons, we never considered he would be playing us]]Taking deep and even breaths, I tried to keep myself calm. I couldn’t tell if I wished to scream or cry at this point. All I knew was that we needed far more answers than we actually had.
“We need to find out if he is working with us or against us,” I said evenly. Hazel snapped her attention towards me, a mixture of both shock and horror on her face.
“He wouldn’t be working against us,” she said.
“Hazel,” I started. “He didn’t tell you for ten years.”
“I don’t care. Milo would never hurt us.” Milo would never knowingly hurt her. The rest of us, I was starting to become a little uncertain about.
Gabriel had gone by the distillery on his way over and it had been dark. Hazel had sent out messages that were never received. <<if $miloro == "true">>I was now realizing, that despite spending the better part of the last few months with the man, I had no idea where he hung out, where he would go, or what he was even doing when he was not here.<</if>> Milo remained illusive. Lost to the market streets with the clear statement that he did not wish to be found.
Hazel shook her head. “I mean, we could check the taverns. The Spice District?”
Malcolm leaned back in his seat. “If he knows his game is up, he isn’t going to be anywhere near his normal haunts. Not that he kept normal haunts. Milo made sure not to be too familiar anywhere for these specific reasons.”
I frowned at that. Milo having connections but at the same time keeping them at arms length felt highly significant somehow. <<if $miloro == "true">>Another thing, I had not noticed.<</if>>
“I just don’t understand. How?” Hazel asked. “I was there that night too. I would have seen something. I should have known.”
There was remorse on Malcolm’s features as he looked at his sister. Arguably, this was going to hit Hazel the hardest. The stages of grief were playing out right before us. “I’m not going to lie, you not knowing is something that surprised me. But this is Milo we’re talking about. He’s a thief and a con artist. And he’s damn good at his job.”
[[He just didn’t act like that]]
[[That was Milo ten years ago]]
[[We were so worried about the Barons, we never considered he would be playing us]]
“He just didn’t act like that,” I said softly. <<if $miloro == "true">>The man who had danced with me in the rain, led me to the pool, held me while I was sick. I couldn’t connect him with a man who held his tongue each time I put my life at risk to gain a Baron's favor. <<elseif $miloro == "false">>The man who sat at this table with us playing cards. The one who glared at Billows as if the cat were his biggest enemy. The one who brought Hazel pretty smelling soaps from the market. This new version of him, the con artist and the thief, didn’t match up with who he had been these last few months.<</if>>
“It’s true, Mal.” Hazel was desperately trying to bring her brother over to her line of thinking. The fact that Milo’s old flame was not budging, however, spoke volumes. “I know how Milo used to be, but things have changed in the last ten years. He grew softer. He gave up a lot of his old contacts and– he just– he wouldn’t…” she trailed off.
While Gabriel and Belladonna wisely stayed out of it, there was a certain truth that was beginning to be revealed that Hazel was neglecting to see. Though, I couldn’t say that I blamed her. This felt far bigger than Milo just trying to keep his identity secret simply because that was what the Gatekeeper had always done.
“Look,” Malcolm started diplomatically. “I am not saying he couldn’t have changed in the last ten years. I hope he has. But from the information we have and what I have observed, Milo is up to something. And it may be a something he fully believes in. Conviction is hard to shake from his bones. He’s a stubborn man who is willing to go far further than most people would because he has always considered himself as someone with nothing to lose.”
The pain that crossed Hazel’s eyes was far too much. Scooting closer to her, Malcolm placed a comforting hand nearby in case she needed it. She latched onto it without any hesitation, squeezing his fingers bloodless.
“I just don’t get why he wouldn’t tell us.” It was the same question, over and over again. The one point that I kept coming back to. Why wouldn’t Milo just come forward? What reason did he have for lying? Initially it felt like a decision bound by rules, but Milo had been an avid supporter of breaking any and all rules. It felt like a stretch to say he was upholding the Gatekeeper tradition.
“Because he’s hiding something,” Malcolm said with certainty. “I’ve been through this with him before. Milo is at his cagiest when he dances through the world like it is perfectly fine. I just don’t think I have enough information to figure it all out yet.” It was a clear irritant to the man. Milo was someone he should know well but even he was falling up short as to why he wouldn’t have just come forward. The world was ending. Surely he had an active investment in keeping it alive.
[[You just woke up. Give it time]]
[[You think maybe he did things different because he knew you’d be back]]
[[Maybe he’s not acting on his own volition]]“That was the Milo of ten years ago,” I said. The con artist and the thief still existed. I could see it every once in a while, but it was only flashes now. The jobs he had been notorious for taking had been present since I knew him and I didn’t want who he was when Malcolm died, to shape what we thought or how we approached him now.
“$name is right,” Hazel said. “I know how Milo used to be, but things have changed in the last ten years. He grew softer. He gave up a lot of his old contacts and– he just– he wouldn’t…” she trailed off.
While Gabriel and Belladonna wisely stayed out of it, there was a certain truth that was beginning to be revealed that Hazel was neglecting to see. Though, I couldn’t say that I blamed her. This felt far bigger than Milo just trying to keep his identity secret simply because that was what the Gatekeeper had always done.
“Look,” Malcolm started diplomatically. “I am not saying he couldn’t have changed in the last ten years. I hope he has. But from the information we have and what I have observed, Milo is up to something. And it may be a something he fully believes in. Conviction is hard to shake from his bones. He’s a stubborn man who is willing to go far further than most people would because he has always considered himself as someone with nothing to lose.”
The pain that crossed Hazel’s eyes was far too much. Scooting closer to her, Malcolm placed a comforting hand nearby in case she needed it. She latched onto it without any hesitation, squeezing his fingers bloodless.
“I just don’t get why he wouldn’t tell us.” It was the same question, over and over again. The one point that I kept coming back to. Why wouldn’t Milo just come forward? What reason did he have for lying? Initially it felt like a decision bound by rules, but Milo had been an avid supporter of breaking any and all rules. It felt like a stretch to say he was upholding the Gatekeeper tradition.
“Because he’s hiding something,” Malcolm said with certainty. “I’ve been through this with him before. Milo is at his cagiest when he dances through the world like it is perfectly fine. I just don’t think I have enough information to figure it all out yet.” It was a clear irritant to the man. Milo was someone he should know well but even he was falling up short as to why he wouldn’t have just come forward. The world was ending. Surely he had an active investment in keeping it alive.
[[You just woke up. Give it time]]
[[You think maybe he did things different because he knew you’d be back]]
[[Maybe he’s not acting on his own volition]]“We were so worried about the Barons and meeting with them, we never even considered he was playing us.” It was the ugly truth of it all. The Barons had been a nice distraction, in fact. A way to keep our eyes turned elsewhere. And while it was clear Milo knew there was an expiration date to his lies, it was a timeline he could work with. If we hadn’t been focusing on the Barons, all the little slips of the tongue or nuances that just didn’t sit right now that we were looking for the Gatekeeper, may have reared their ugly head.
“He is not playing us,” Hazel protested.
Malcolm reached out for his sister but she moved away from him with a jerk of her arm. “Hazel, Milo was known for being able to make people believe what they wanted. He’s adaptable. He had to be in order to survive.”
“Those were his jobs,” she protested. “He wouldn’t do this to me. <<if $miloro == "true">>He wouldn’t do this to $name. He loves ?them.”<</if>>
While Gabriel and Belladonna wisely stayed out of it, there was a certain truth that was beginning to be revealed that Hazel was neglecting to see. Though, I couldn’t say that I blamed her. This felt far bigger than Milo just trying to keep his identity secret simply because that was what the Gatekeeper had always done.
“Look,” Malcolm started diplomatically. “I am not saying he couldn’t have changed in the last ten years. I hope he has. But from the information we have and what I have observed, Milo is up to something. And it may be a something he fully believes in. Conviction is hard to shake from his bones. He’s a stubborn man who is willing to go far further than most people would because he has always considered himself as someone with nothing to lose.”
The pain that crossed Hazel’s eyes was far too much. Scooting closer to her, Malcolm placed a comforting hand nearby in case she needed it. She latched onto it without any hesitation, squeezing his fingers bloodless.
“I just don’t get why he wouldn’t tell us.” It was the same question, over and over again. The one point that I kept coming back to. Why wouldn’t Milo just come forward? What reason did he have for lying? Initially it felt like a decision bound by rules, but Milo had been an avid supporter of breaking any and all rules. It felt like a stretch to say he was upholding the Gatekeeper tradition.
“Because he’s hiding something,” Malcolm said with certainty. “I’ve been through this with him before. Milo is at his cagiest when he dances through the world like it is perfectly fine. I just don’t think I have enough information to figure it all out yet.” It was a clear irritant to the man. Milo was someone he should know well but even he was falling up short as to why he wouldn’t have just come forward. The world was ending. Surely he had an active investment in keeping it alive.
[[You just woke up. Give it time]]
[[You think maybe he did things different because he knew you’d be back]]
[[Maybe he’s not acting on his own volition]]“You just woke up,” I tried to tell him. “Give it some time.” There was very little doubt in my mind that we were on the right path with Malcolm being back. He could offer us insight into the Barons and how the market was dying while at the same time shedding light on personality traits of Milo that I was now suspecting Hazel refused to see. Hazel had always tried to see the good in people. Even her mother. Milo was certainly going to be no different.
“We don’t have time,” he said. “And I’m not going to sit back and rest on my laurels. I’ve been asleep for a decade. That was far too much rest.”
“I believe,” Belladonna started. “That dear Milo might not have been banking on you being back so soon. It may be why he’s gone incredibly quiet prior to finding out his secret.”
“I cannot say I am surprised by the duplicity,” Gabriel started. “But I am not thrilled with the danger he has been allowing us to enter repeatedly. Especially given what $name has gone through.”
Hazel looked between the two of them before glancing at Malcolm and I. “But it’s Milo,” she said softly. “We can’t just write him off completely.”
[[Why not? He has us]]
[[We aren’t doing anything until we talk to him]]
[[We are not writing him off]]“Do you think that might have been on purpose?” Malcolm looked at me with a small frown. “You arguably know this side of him the best. He knew what Hazel was attempting. If he thought you were going to be back, maybe he purposefully did things different to make sure you wouldn’t be on to him too quick.”
There was no change in Malcolm’s expression but I could see how my words hit him. It was something he had not thought of before but as it was said out loud, I could see piece after piece fall together. Milo was out pacing us in more ways than one.
“Well,” Belladonna said, her voice tight. “It appears Milo thought of almost everything.”
“I cannot say I am surprised by the duplicity,” Gabriel started. “But I am not thrilled with the danger he has been allowing us to enter repeatedly. Especially given what $name has gone through.”
Hazel looked between the two of them before glancing at Malcolm and I. “But it’s Milo,” she said softly. “We can’t just write him off completely.”
[[Why not? He has us]]
[[We aren’t doing anything until we talk to him]]
[[We are not writing him off]]“Is it possible he’s not acting on his own? That someone else figured out he was the Gatekeeper and is using that to their advantage?” Arguably, given all the Barons, the Gatekeeper seemed like the coveted role. The ability to control the gates between worlds and decide the stem and flow of who was allowed within the market walls, could be a power that quickly became abused. Keeping the position of Gatekeeper quiet seemed like a way to prolong your life. But, if Milo had slipped up, or had let anyone know about his newfound job, then there was room for someone else to slip in and take advantage of his situation.
“I thought the same thing,” Malcolm murmured. “I almost want to believe it because it doesn’t put him in a bad light.”
Belladonna arched a brow. “Are we concerned about that?” she asked. “He has essentially been keeping pivotal information from us from the beginning. Do we care about what light this man ends up falling in?”
“I cannot say I am surprised by the duplicity,” Gabriel started. “But I am not thrilled with the danger he has been allowing us to enter repeatedly. Especially given what $name has gone through.”
Hazel looked between the two of them before glancing at Malcolm and I. “But it’s Milo,” she said softly. “We can’t just write him off completely.”
[[Why not? He has us]]
[[We aren’t doing anything until we talk to him]]
[[We are not writing him off]]“Why not?” I asked, my brow raised in a challenge. “He has written us off, hasn’t he?” I looked around the room. The gate had fallen away and the remnants of willow bark and old blood littered the floor. “I don’t see him here. We’ve tried to contact him and he hasn’t shown. Why shouldn’t we write him off when it is clear that he’s done the same to us.”
“He hasn’t,” she protested, her voice taking on an edge to it. <<if $hazelro == "true">>The last thing I wanted was to upset her. But I didn’t know if I could agree with her on the topic of what Milo had been up to.<</if>>
“$name is speaking truthfully, Hazel,” Belladonna said. “You may have love for the man we are speaking of but at the moment, it is negligent to think that he has not caused direct harm towards us.” When she turned to Gabriel, she frowned a little. “Do you think it is safe for the guard to be involved in this? I would say they should keep a lookout for him but I also do not wish to see your men get hurt. The ones that are adept at their job at least.”
“I’ll put a request out for Milo’s whereabouts,” Gabriel said. “But I will tell them it is for safety purposes and to not approach. With the revelation of his Baronhood, even if I were to arrest him, I would not be able to keep him for long. He is now effectively above the law.”
“He may have an out with the consequences of breaking the law," Hazel started. "But he does not have an out with the people he has surrounded himself with. He does not have an out with his family. If Milo is truly doing something he shouldn’t, then he may be able to walk away from it free and clear with everyone else, but it doesn’t mean he will with us.”
I could see the tears in her eyes and the way she was trying to keep the shakiness from her voice. She wanted more than anything to see the good in Milo, but his words were starting to come back to haunt each and every one of us and I didn’t know if we should be angry, or ashamed that we did not see it from the beginning.
“Mr. Albright, I know very little of the relationship you and Mr. Next had, but I assume it was close. If he knew you were back, would he come here?”
Malcolm’s face remained blank as he looked Gabriel over, his eyes searching the man. Ten years was a long time. Ten years caused a lot of change. Malcolm had the job of now merging the two worlds he had belonged to.
“No,” he said softly. “I think if he knows I’m back he’ll go further underground.”
Hazel shook her head. “Mal, it’s worth a shot. If Milo knows you’re here I don’t see how he could stay away.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Respectfully, Hazel,” he said softly. “I am the ex. The person he should be coming here for is certainly not me.” <<elseif $miloro == "false">>”Respectfully, Hazel,” Malcolm said softly. “I was dead. The people he should be coming here for is not me.” He gave both her and I a pointed look. Milo owned many people an explanation right about now.<</if>>
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[I don’t know if what he felt me was real now]]<</if>>
[[I wouldn't count yourself out]]
[[He should be coming here because of me, because of you, and because of Hazel]]“We won’t be doing anything until we talk to him,” I said firmly. There was nothing we even could do. We had a name like we wanted but it didn’t put us any further on a path of closing the gates. “I am going to make that very clear here and now. We are not doing anything against Milo. We are not assuming. We are going to talk to him. Then, we will figure out what needs to be done.”
Belladonna looked less than pleased over the scenario but said nothing, while Gabriel nodded at my order.
“You’ll need to speak to your guard, Gabriel,” Belladonna said. “Have them keep an eye out for Milo but inform them that he could easily hurt them. We do not know what kind of state he will be in and for all we know, he is fearful.”
Gabriel nodded. “And fear breeds horrendous mistakes. With the revelation of his Baronhood, even if I were to arrest him, I would not be able to keep him for long. He is now effectively above the law.”
“He may have an out with the consequences of breaking the law," Hazel started. "But he does not have an out with the people he has surrounded himself with. He does not have an out with his family. If Milo is truly doing something he shouldn’t, then he may be able to walk away from it free and clear with everyone else, but it doesn’t mean he will with us.”
I could see the tears in her eyes and the way she was trying to keep the shakiness from her voice. She wanted more than anything to see the good in Milo, but his words were starting to come back to haunt each and every one of us and I didn’t know if we should be angry, or ashamed that we did not see it from the beginning.
“Mr. Albright, I know very little of the relationship you and Mr. Next had, but I assume it was close. If he knew you were back, would he come here?”
Malcolm’s face remained blank as he looked Gabriel over, his eyes searching the man. Ten years was a long time. Ten years caused a lot of change. Malcolm had the job of now merging the two worlds he had belonged to.
“No,” he said softly. “I think if he knows I’m back he’ll go further underground.”
Hazel shook her head. “Mal, it’s worth a shot. If Milo knows you’re here I don’t see how he could stay away.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Respectfully, Hazel,” he said softly. “I am the ex. The person he should be coming here for is certainly not me.” <<elseif $miloro == "false">>”Respectfully, Hazel,” Malcolm said softly. “I was dead. The people he should be coming here for is not me.” He gave both her and I a pointed look. Milo owned many people an explanation right about now.<</if>>
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[I don’t know if what he felt me was real now]]<</if>>
[[I wouldn't count yourself out]]
[[He should be coming here because of me, because of you, and because of Hazel]]“We are not writing him off,” I said. “If Milo is up to something, then we will deal with it when it unfolds. I think if anything, this moment proves that he cannot keep the secrets he wishes to. And, the fact is, he was practically screaming at every corner for someone to figure this out. We just didn’t see him.”
“That is not an excuse,” Belladonna said firmly.
I tipped my gaze towards her. “You are going to pass judgment on secrecy?”
“My secrecy had everything to do with a goal that had nothing to do with you.”
“Yet, I was involved.”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “We have spoken of this. If we need to speak further of this, then we will, but not at this moment in time. The topic at hand is what we wish to do about Mr. Next and where we may find him so we can either receive answers from him, or apprehend him.”
“He’s a Baron,” Belladonna said bitterly. “You cannot apprehend him, Gabriel. He effectively has an out against anything he does.”
“No he doesn’t,” Hazel said. “He may have an out with the consequences of breaking the law, but he does not have an out with the people he has surrounded himself with. He does not have an out with his family. If Milo is truly doing something he shouldn’t, then he may be able to walk away from it free and clear with everyone else, but it doesn’t mean he will with us.”
I could see the tears in her eyes and the way she was trying to keep the shakiness from her voice. She wanted more than anything to see the good in Milo, but his words were starting to come back to haunt each and every one of us and I didn’t know if we should be angry, or ashamed that we did not see it from the beginning.
“Mr. Albright, I know very little of the relationship you and Mr. Next had, but I assume it was close. If he knew you were back, would he come here?”
Malcolm’s face remained blank as he looked Gabriel over, his eyes searching the man. Ten years was a long time. Ten years caused a lot of change. Malcolm had the job of now merging the two worlds he had belonged to.
“No,” he said softly. “I think if he knows I’m back he’ll go further underground.”
Hazel shook her head. “Mal, it’s worth a shot. If Milo knows you’re here I don’t see how he could stay away.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Respectfully, Hazel,” he said softly. “I am the ex. The person he should be coming here for is certainly not me.” <<elseif $miloro == "false">>”Respectfully, Hazel,” Malcolm said softly. “I was dead. The people he should be coming here for is not me.” He gave both her and I a pointed look. Milo owned many people an explanation right about now.<</if>>
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[I don’t know if what he felt me was real now]]<</if>>
[[I wouldn't count yourself out]]
[[He should be coming here because of me, because of you, and because of Hazel]]My gaze slipped away. There was a problem with that statement. While I believed it to be true, I no longer could trust what Milo and I had together. The dancing, the way he’d hold my hand. There were so many moments now, ones that I looked back on and wondered, was that real? When he pulled me close to him, was that something he wished to do because he cared? Or did he do it to keep me distracted?
“I’m no longer sure if his feelings were real,” I admitted.
“Oh, $name,” Hazel said sadly. “No. Milo had feelings for you. I could see it.”
Belladonna cleared her throat. “While normally I would come down on the side of his declarations were false, it was clear, even to a cold-hearted person such as me, that there was something there. And believe me, dear heart, I am well adept when it comes to the games of men.”
I didn’t know. If he had fooled us about being the Gatekeeper, who was to say he hadn’t fooled us about this as well.
“Let’s just find him, Lamplight,” Malcolm said softly. “If he played with your heart, we’ll take care of that.” I smiled wanly at him, not feeling bolstered but knowing that he was at least right. We just needed to find Milo.
“Lamp light?” Confusion riddled Belladonna’s words as she obviously took the nickname and tried to slot it in with the information she already knew. Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath in preperation of some sort of answer. To her own question, mind you. But her mouth quickly snapped shut with a click as she came up empty-handed.
It was odd to see Belladonna as the only one in the room without all the pieces to the puzzle. Powerful in an odd way.
“That’s the other topic of discussion,” I told her wearily. “Apparently, I am the Night Market.”
Belladonna stared at me for a long moment. One that was almost comical. She then nodded her head once. “I suspected.”
“You what?” I looked at her incredulously, waiting for the other line of the joke.
“Weird things happened around you. The lantern festival for one. The way you came through a tear and not a gate. You also have a slight glow to your eyes that reflects the lanterns. I thought you might be the Night Market, but it sounded crazy.”
“Aw, there’s the Belladonna I remember,” Malcolm said with a sly grin. “Won’t say a word unless she is absolutely sure that she’ll be coming out on the winning side.”
Belladonna turned to look at him, her expression filled with a strange amount of fondness. “I forget that you’re not afraid of me.”
“I’m not,” he smirked.
“You should be.” Her fangs peeked out from behind her lips and the toe of her high heel dug at a speck of dirt on the floor. “I’m happy to have you home.”
“Well, I am glad that you two are making fast friends,” Gabriel said, “but with $name being the Night Market, there may be a bit of discussion we need to have. Namely, how do we protect ?them.”
[[Were you not protecting me before?]]
[[Stop gates from shredding apart my body is a good start]]
[[Do we have to refer to me as the Night Market?]]Looking at Malcolm, I tried to figure out if his words were self-deprecating or not. If the man had just so easily slotted himself into not being important when he was the one person I had heard the most about since coming to the Night Market.
“I wouldn’t count yourself out in this,” I told him. “If he’s hiding, he owes you an explanation too.”
Malcolm’s laughter was short and full of mirth. There was more there, but nothing we could address right now. “Lamplight, I hope beyond reason that I am wrong about him and he walks through that door. I really do.” It would be a miracle if he did. A sentiment I was about to share when Belladonna’s voice broke through.
“Lamp light?” Confusion riddled Belladonna’s words as she obviously took the nickname and tried to slot it in with the information she already knew. Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath in preperation of some sort of answer. To her own question, mind you. But her mouth quickly snapped shut with a click as she came up empty-handed.
It was odd to see Belladonna as the only one in the room without all the pieces to the puzzle. Powerful in an odd way.
“That’s the other topic of discussion,” I told her wearily. “Apparently, I am the Night Market.”
Belladonna stared at me for a long moment. One that was almost comical. She then nodded her head once. “I suspected.”
“You what?” I looked at her incredulously, waiting for the other line of the joke.
“Weird things happened around you. The lantern festival for one. The way you came through a tear and not a gate. You also have a slight glow to your eyes that reflects the lanterns. I thought you might be the Night Market, but it sounded crazy.”
“Aw, there’s the Belladonna I remember,” Malcolm said with a sly grin. “Won’t say a word unless she is absolutely sure that she’ll be coming out on the winning side.”
Belladonna turned to look at him, her expression filled with a strange amount of fondness. “I forget that you’re not afraid of me.”
“I’m not,” he smirked.
“You should be.” Her fangs peeked out from behind her lips and the toe of her high heel dug at a speck of dirt on the floor. “I’m happy to have you home.”
“Well, I am glad that you two are making fast friends,” Gabriel said, “but with $name being the Night Market, there may be a bit of discussion we need to have. Namely, how do we protect ?them.”
[[Were you not protecting me before?]]
[[Stop gates from shredding apart my body is a good start]]
[[Do we have to refer to me as the Night Market?]]I looked at Malcolm, feeling something slot sideways in my chest. “He does owe me answers,” I agreed. “But he should also be coming here to answer to his sister,” I nodded towards Hazel. “And the man he spent a better portion of his life with.” Milo owed all of us. And I was not going to let him get away with disappearing forever.
Malcolm gave me a brief smile. “You’re right. And I hope that ten years proves me wrong and he walks through that door, Lamplight. I really do.” I tried to give him an encouraging smile, one that said we needed to hold out hope. But Belladonna’s voice broke through.
“Lamp light?” Confusion riddled Belladonna’s words as she obviously took the nickname and tried to slot it in with the information she already knew. Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath in preperation of some sort of answer. To her own question, mind you. But her mouth quickly snapped shut with a click as she came up empty-handed.
It was odd to see Belladonna as the only one in the room without all the pieces to the puzzle. Powerful in an odd way.
“That’s the other topic of discussion,” I told her wearily. “Apparently, I am the Night Market.”
Belladonna stared at me for a long moment. One that was almost comical. She then nodded her head once. “I suspected.”
“You what?” I looked at her incredulously, waiting for the other line of the joke.
“Weird things happened around you. The lantern festival for one. The way you came through a tear and not a gate. You also have a slight glow to your eyes that reflects the lanterns. I thought you might be the Night Market, but it sounded crazy.”
“Aw, there’s the Belladonna I remember,” Malcolm said with a sly grin. “Won’t say a word unless she is absolutely sure that she’ll be coming out on the winning side.”
Belladonna turned to look at him, her expression filled with a strange amount of fondness. “I forget that you’re not afraid of me.”
“I’m not,” he smirked.
“You should be.” Her fangs peeked out from behind her lips and the toe of her high heel dug at a speck of dirt on the floor. “I’m happy to have you home.”
“Well, I am glad that you two are making fast friends,” Gabriel said, “but with $name being the Night Market, there may be a bit of discussion we need to have. Namely, how do we protect ?them.”
[[Were you not protecting me before?]]
[[Stop gates from shredding apart my body is a good start]]
[[Do we have to refer to me as the Night Market?]]I raised a brow. “Were you not protecting me before?”
“It’s different now,” Gabriel said, frustrated.
“It shouldn’t be.” The thought that there was any sort of difference between what we had been doing before and now sat in a panicked weight against me. I didn’t want to be treated any differently.
“The Gatekeeper is made to protect the Night Market,” Malcolm said, as if no one had spoken before. Banter or even small talk, was all nuances he merely entertained before calling us all back to the topic at hand. “It’s not widely known, but the Gatekeeper is the one Baron who should be working in tandem with the world to keep it in balance.”
“What do you mean about balance?” Gabriel asked.
“The opening and closing of gates. As you know, if too many open, the world will eventually tear. If not enough open, life dwindles and the market will perish. Think of the people who live here as a symbiotic relationship with the market. Their existence, their creativity, their power, their very lives, give the market strength. They are the beating pulse of the market itself. Closing the gates could risk that completely.”
“But gates have been opening at random,” Hazel said. “Is that Milo’s doing? I mean, some of them seemed to open and cause a lot of damage. I just don’t know if he would purposefully cause that kind of chaos.”
“Whatever is going on, I don’t think Milo has control over the gates like he should.”
Belladonna frowned. “Well, since everyone seems to have an issue with me not saying anything when I have a theory, I’m throwing my two cents in whether I’m right or I’m wrong.”
“What’s that?” Malcolm asked.
“What if the Night Market, meaning our dear $name here, was opening the gates in an effort to get you back.”
[[What? I wasn’t opening anything. I struggle to open doors]]
[[It makes sense. We kept talking about getting Malcolm back. Maybe I unconsciously did something]]
[[But shouldn’t I have been looking for Milo instead?]]
“Stopping the gates from shredding my body into little tattered pieces would be a good start. I like that start, in fact.”
Gabriel looked at me, blinking slowly. “Of course that is where we begin, $name. I would not allow anything less.”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him that I had been joking, but decided better. He looked so sincere at that moment that I didn’t wish to burst his bubble.
“The Gatekeeper is made to protect the Night Market,” Malcolm said, as if no one had spoken before. Banter or even small talk, was all nuances he merely entertained before calling us all back to the topic at hand. “It’s not widely known, but the Gatekeeper is the one Baron who should be working in tandem with the world to keep it in balance.”
“What do you mean about balance?” Gabriel asked.
“The opening and closing of gates. As you know, if too many open, the world will eventually tear. If not enough open, life dwindles and the market will perish. Think of the people who live here as a symbiotic relationship with the market. Their existence, their creativity, their power, their very lives, give the market strength. They are the beating pulse of the market itself. Closing the gates could risk that completely.”
“But gates have been opening at random,” Hazel said. “Is that Milo’s doing? I mean, some of them seemed to open and cause a lot of damage. I just don’t know if he would purposefully cause that kind of chaos.”
“Whatever is going on, I don’t think Milo has control over the gates like he should.”
Belladonna frowned. “Well, since everyone seems to have an issue with me not saying anything when I have a theory, I’m throwing my two cents in whether I’m right or I’m wrong.”
“What’s that?” Malcolm asked.
“What if the Night Market, meaning our dear $name here, was opening the gates in an effort to get you back.”
[[What? I wasn’t opening anything. I struggle to open doors]]
[[It makes sense. We kept talking about getting Malcolm back. Maybe I unconsciously did something]]
[[But shouldn’t I have been looking for Milo instead?]]
I shifted uncomfortably. “Do we have to keep referring to me as the Night Market?” I asked.
“That is what you are,” Gabriel reasoned.
Belladonna rolled her eyes. “And dear heart is also someone who walks and talks and has interests outside of being a cosmic entity. Really, Gabriel. Big, powerful beings have always intimidated you.”
He frowned. “How is that…?” She hushed him, shaking her head and gesturing back to me. For some reason, it stopped him.
“The Gatekeeper is made to protect the Night Market,” Malcolm said, as if no one had spoken before. Banter or even small talk, was all nuances he merely entertained before calling us all back to the topic at hand. “It’s not widely known, but the Gatekeeper is the one Baron who should be working in tandem with the world to keep it in balance.”
“What do you mean about balance?” Gabriel asked.
“The opening and closing of gates. As you know, if too many open, the world will eventually tear. If not enough open, life dwindles and the market will perish. Think of the people who live here as a symbiotic relationship with the market. Their existence, their creativity, their power, their very lives, give the market strength. They are the beating pulse of the market itself. Closing the gates could risk that completely.”
“But gates have been opening at random,” Hazel said. “Is that Milo’s doing? I mean, some of them seemed to open and cause a lot of damage. I just don’t know if he would purposefully cause that kind of chaos.”
“Whatever is going on, I don’t think Milo has control over the gates like he should.”
Belladonna frowned. “Well, since everyone seems to have an issue with me not saying anything when I have a theory, I’m throwing my two cents in whether I’m right or I’m wrong.”
“What’s that?” Malcolm asked.
“What if the Night Market, meaning our dear $name here, was opening the gates in an effort to get you back.”
[[What? I wasn’t opening anything. I struggle to open doors]]
[[It makes sense. We kept talking about getting Malcolm back. Maybe I unconsciously did something]]
[[But shouldn’t I have been looking for Milo instead?]]
“Me?” I looked around the room to gauge the others reactions. “I wasn’t opening anything. I struggle to open doors.” I couldn’t have just been opening gates through the market, tearing my own body apart, for the sake of finding a man I couldn’t remember. Not only did I not know how to do that but I think I would have remembered doing so in the first place.
“Do you really struggle to open doors?” Malcolm asked.
Hazel nodded in confirmation. “We often just leave the doors open around here. The doorknobs can get sticky.”
“Huh,” he said with a shrug.
“Doors aside,” Belladonna started. “If Malcolm was the first Gatekeeper on record that was trying to change the market around a bit, trying to make things far more manageable, you may have unconsciously ticked him as the more helpful one. When he is followed up with the trash panda that is Milo, who do you think you would prefer? You’d probably do some pretty chaotic things to get the individual back who was actually helpful.”
“But I don’t even know how to do any of that,” I told her.
“You don’t. This small subsidiary of you, at least. But you are far grander than what you present. And, dear, if your conscious thought is down here, then what is left up there?” I ticked my gaze upwards and all around. This world that breathed in an effort to contain life could very well be without sentient thought at the moment. I was finding it far scarier to think that whatever conscious choices I did have, was now contained within the form I was now.
Gabriel frowned. “The gates were going haywire before $name came to us though.”
“Not as much as they are now,” Belladonna reasoned. “Since $name has come to the market, we have gone from the occasional opening to one happening nearly once a week.”
“What?” I looked at Gabriel. This was of course something he had forgone mentioning.
“They have mostly been on the outskirts of the market. Near the outlands. No one has been harmed so I didn’t see the point in mentioning it.”
“Can I make a new rule that we need to start mentioning things?” I practically yelled. “Everyone here has kept something at some point, not wanting to inconvenience someone else because they had their own thing going on, but you all have expected me to be transparent. To meet with the Barons. To throw myself into all of this and yet none of you can be transparent about things that very obviously do affect me?”
“Lamplight,” Malcolm started.
“What?” I turned on him.
“The world is listening.” The lantern Hazel kept above her door, stolen from the Spice District by Milo, flickered on and off with the beat of my heart. Time slowed down as I heard my own pulse. A crashing boom that dimmed the glow in front of me with a steady thrum. I stared at it with wide eyes before slumping down onto the sofa. “Looks like you may have a bit more access to your abilities now that you are aware.”
“The cold in the market happened after the Deep,” Hazel said. “You blacked out when the lanterns went out completely. The world has gotten duller since your headaches. And when you were sick, the flowers that grew through the cracks in the cobblestone, started dying.”
“So what? Everything I feel is going to effect the world?”
None of them answered me. It didn’t matter though. The moment the words left my mouth they sang through the air in ringing truth. I was the world around me and what it entailed.
“I think maybe we need to take some time,” Malcolm said, eyeing me carefully. “We are at a standstill. We don’t know where Milo is and $name has gotten quite a bit of information thrown ?their way in the last twenty-four hours. Dust needs to settle.”
“Agreed,” Belladonna said, rising from the chair. “I have a few things I need to be taking care of at the Cathedral. Gabriel, will you escort me?”
“Don’t you have those two guards to do just that?”
She looked at him. “Yes. But they are not as good as you. I would like you to train them. I would also like to speak to you about a personal guard detail that is not of the velvet variety. Because we absolutely need to be speaking of the corrupt individuals that you have within your employ. Would you be terribly mad if I just killed them outright?”
Gabriel sighed, rising to his feet. “I will let you all know if I get any word on Milo’s whereabouts. When I get back to the offices, I will pull his file. It has come to my attention that a man like that probably has an extensive one. It could perhaps give us a lead.”
“You won’t have that file, Warden,” Malcolm said. “He stole it a long time ago.”
Gabriel’s expression was pinched. “Yes. Well. It sounds like I should be looking into extra security detail for my own place as well.”
"One more thing before everyone goes." All eyes turned to Malcolm. He still remained on the sofa, hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees. With his hands dangling in front of him, he looked the perfect posture of composure. But the look he suddenly leveled on the room, including his sister, was anything but calm.
"Everyone has had their own lives to run," Malcolm started. "I get that. But this individual fell into your laps and each and every one of you used ?them for your own gain. You asked after their feelings on matters but you didn't let it alter your own course. Or what you believed should be done. That stops now. $name has agency. The Night Market does not work for you. Consent is going to start being a topic around here. If anyone has an issue with it, my door is open."
I looked around the room, gauging the others reactions. Hazel's head was down, her feet shuffling back and forth while Gabriel gave little to no expression. And while Bella's face was calm, I could see the way her lips thinned. Malcolm didn't balk. He looked at them all with a raised brow.
<<if $miloro == "true">>Tipping her head to the side, Belladonna regaurded him icely. "And will you be having this discussion with your dearest Milo as well?"
"Oh, believe me, the discussion I will be having with Milo will be far more involved than what I stated just now."<</if>>
Gabriel was the first to move. Stepping forward, he breezed past the situation cooly before turning to me. I could see the tightness around his eyes as he addressed me. “Is there anything you need before we depart?”
“Yes, dear heart,” Belladonna said, brushing a stray lock from her golden eyes. “Did you wish to come with us?”
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]
<<elseif $platonic == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[Ask for a moment with Gabriel]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna (poly)|Go with G and B]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Ask for a moment with Belladonna]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna (poly)|Go with G and B]]<</if>>
It didn’t seem entirely improbable, what Belladonna was proposing. “It does make some sense. We kept talking about getting Malcolm back. Saying it would help us find the Gatekeeper. I don’t know how but maybe I unconsciously did something.”
Hazel looked a little unnerved by the thought. “But when?” she asked. “Wouldn’t we have known if you were opening gates?”
“Not necessarily,” Gabriel intoned. “If $name is not connected entirely to their whole self, then it is feasible to think that perhaps the form walking here is entirely separate from the conscious thoughts of the mind at its completion.”
My nose wrinkled. “I don’t know if I like how you are referring to me now.”
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>He winced a little. “I request patience,” he said softly. “I’m not sure if I know how to navigate this yet.”
Belladonna looked at him with an arched brow. “You treat them like you always have.”<</if>>
"Do you feel like you were looking for Malcolm?" Hazel asked. I shook my head. If I had been, I was not aware of it.
“Think about it,” Belladonna started. “If Malcolm was the first Gatekeeper on record that was trying to change the market around a bit, trying to make things far more manageable, you may have unconsciously ticked him as the more helpful one. When he is followed up with the trash panda that is Milo, who do you think you would prefer? You’d probably do some pretty chaotic things to get the individual back who was actually helpful.”
“But I don’t even know how to do any of that,” I told her.
“You don’t. This small subsidiary of you, at least. But you are far grander than what you present. And, dear, if your conscious thought is down here, then what is left up there?” I ticked my gaze upwards and all around. This world that breathed in an effort to contain life could very well be without sentient thought at the moment. I was finding it far scarier to think that whatever conscious choices I did have, was now contained within the form I was now.
Gabriel frowned. “The gates were going haywire before $name came to us though.”
“Not as much as they are now,” Belladonna reasoned. “Since $name has come to the market, we have gone from the occasional opening to one happening nearly once a week.”
“What?” I looked at Gabriel. This was of course something he had forgone mentioning.
“They have mostly been on the outskirts of the market. Near the outlands. No one has been harmed so I didn’t see the point in mentioning it.”
“Can I make a new rule that we need to start mentioning things?” I practically yelled. “Everyone here has kept something at some point, not wanting to inconvenience someone else because they had their own thing going on, but you all have expected me to be transparent. To meet with the Barons. To throw myself into all of this and yet none of you can be transparent about things that very obviously do affect me?”
“Lamplight,” Malcolm started.
“What?” I turned on him.
“The world is listening.” The lantern Hazel kept above her door, stolen from the Spice District by Milo, flickered on and off with the beat of my heart. Time slowed down as I heard my own pulse. A crashing boom that dimmed the glow in front of me with a steady thrum. I stared at it with wide eyes before slumping down onto the sofa. “Looks like you may have a bit more access to your abilities now that you are aware.”
“The cold in the market happened after the Deep,” Hazel said. “You blacked out when the lanterns went out completely. The world has gotten duller since your headaches. And when you were sick, the flowers that grew through the cracks in the cobblestone, started dying.”
“So what? Everything I feel is going to effect the world?”
None of them answered me. It didn’t matter though. The moment the words left my mouth they sang through the air in ringing truth. I was the world around me and what it entailed.
“I think maybe we need to take some time,” Malcolm said, eyeing me carefully. “We are at a standstill. We don’t know where Milo is and $name has gotten quite a bit of information thrown ?their way in the last twenty-four hours. Dust needs to settle.”
“Agreed,” Belladonna said, rising from the chair. “I have a few things I need to be taking care of at the Cathedral. Gabriel, will you escort me?”
“Don’t you have those two guards to do just that?”
She looked at him. “Yes. But they are not as good as you. I would like you to train them. I would also like to speak to you about a personal guard detail that is not of the velvet variety. Because we absolutely need to be speaking of the corrupt individuals that you have within your employ. Would you be terribly mad if I just killed them outright?”
Gabriel sighed, rising to his feet. “I will let you all know if I get any word on Milo’s whereabouts. When I get back to the offices, I will pull his file. It has come to my attention that a man like that probably has an extensive one. It could perhaps give us a lead.”
“You won’t have that file, Warden,” Malcolm said. “He stole it a long time ago.”
Gabriel’s expression was pinched. “Yes. Well. It sounds like I should be looking into extra security detail for my own place as well.”
"One more thing before everyone goes." All eyes turned to Malcolm. He still remained on the sofa, hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees. With his hands dangling in front of him, he looked the perfect posture of composure. But the look he suddenly leveled on the room, including his sister, was anything but calm.
"Everyone has had their own lives to run," Malcolm started. "I get that. But this individual fell into your laps and each and every one of you used ?them for your own gain. You asked after their feelings on matters but you didn't let it alter your own course. Or what you believed should be done. That stops now. $name has agency. The Night Market does not work for you. Consent is going to start being a topic around here. If anyone has an issue with it, my door is open."
I looked around the room, gauging the others reactions. Hazel's head was down, her feet shuffling back and forth while Gabriel gave little to no expression. And while Bella's face was calm, I could see the way her lips thinned. Malcolm didn't balk. He looked at them all with a raised brow.
<<if $miloro == "true">>Tipping her head to the side, Belladonna regaurded him icely. "And will you be having this discussion with your dearest Milo as well?"
"Oh, believe me, the discussion I will be having with Milo will be far more involved than what I stated just now."<</if>>
Gabriel was the first to move. Stepping forward, he breezed past the situation cooly before turning to me. I could see the tightness around his eyes as he addressed me. “Is there anything you need before we depart?”
“Yes, dear heart,” Belladonna said, brushing a stray lock from her golden eyes. “Did you wish to come with us?”
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]
<<elseif $platonic == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[Ask for a moment with Gabriel]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna (poly)|Go with G and B]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Ask for a moment with Belladonna]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna (poly)|Go with G and B]]<</if>>
“But if I was looking for the Gatekeeper, shouldn’t I have been looking for Milo instead?” It was the crux of it all. The very person we had gone through so much effort to find had been standing right before us, not even trying to hide. I understood the idea of unconsciously opening doors to find him, but if the Gatekeeper and the Night Market worked in tandem, I felt like I should have known from the beginning who he was. <<if $miloro == "true">> The implications of why I had even started a relationship with him so quick, didn’t quite sit right with me due to this thought alone.<</if>>
“Think about it,” Belladonna started. “If Malcolm was the first Gatekeeper on record that was trying to change the market around a bit, trying to make things far more manageable, you may have unconsciously ticked him as the more helpful one. When he is followed up with the trash panda that is Milo, who do you think you would prefer? You’d probably do some pretty chaotic things to get the individual back who was actually helpful.”
“But I don’t even know how to do any of that,” I told her.
“You don’t. This small subsidiary of you, at least. But you are far grander than what you present. And, dear, if your conscious thought is down here, then what is left up there?” I ticked my gaze upwards and all around. This world that breathed in an effort to contain life could very well be without sentient thought at the moment. I was finding it far scarier to think that whatever conscious choices I did have, was now contained within the form I was now.
Gabriel frowned. “The gates were going haywire before $name came to us though.”
“Not as much as they are now,” Belladonna reasoned. “Since $name has come to the market, we have gone from the occasional opening to one happening nearly once a week.”
“What?” I looked at Gabriel. This was of course something he had forgone mentioning.
“They have mostly been on the outskirts of the market. Near the outlands. No one has been harmed so I didn’t see the point in mentioning it.”
“Can I make a new rule that we need to start mentioning things?” I practically yelled. “Everyone here has kept something at some point, not wanting to inconvenience someone else because they had their own thing going on, but you all have expected me to be transparent. To meet with the Barons. To throw myself into all of this and yet none of you can be transparent about things that very obviously do affect me?”
“Lamplight,” Malcolm started.
“What?” I turned on him.
“The world is listening.” The lantern Hazel kept above her door, stolen from the Spice District by Milo, flickered on and off with the beat of my heart. Time slowed down as I heard my own pulse. A crashing boom that dimmed the glow in front of me with a steady thrum. I stared at it with wide eyes before slumping down onto the sofa. “Looks like you may have a bit more access to your abilities now that you are aware.”
“The cold in the market happened after the Deep,” Hazel said. “You blacked out when the lanterns went out completely. The world has gotten duller since your headaches. And when you were sick, the flowers that grew through the cracks in the cobblestone, started dying.”
“So what? Everything I feel is going to effect the world?”
None of them answered me. It didn’t matter though. The moment the words left my mouth they sang through the air in ringing truth. I was the world around me and what it entailed.
“I think maybe we need to take some time,” Malcolm said, eyeing me carefully. “We are at a standstill. We don’t know where Milo is and $name has gotten quite a bit of information thrown ?their way in the last twenty-four hours. Dust needs to settle.”
“Agreed,” Belladonna said, rising from the chair. “I have a few things I need to be taking care of at the Cathedral. Gabriel, will you escort me?”
“Don’t you have those two guards to do just that?”
She looked at him. “Yes. But they are not as good as you. I would like you to train them. I would also like to speak to you about a personal guard detail that is not of the velvet variety. Because we absolutely need to be speaking of the corrupt individuals that you have within your employ. Would you be terribly mad if I just killed them outright?”
Gabriel sighed, rising to his feet. “I will let you all know if I get any word on Milo’s whereabouts. When I get back to the offices, I will pull his file. It has come to my attention that a man like that probably has an extensive one. It could perhaps give us a lead.”
“You won’t have that file, Warden,” Malcolm said. “He stole it a long time ago.”
Gabriel’s expression was pinched. “Yes. Well. It sounds like I should be looking into extra security detail for my own place as well.”
"One more thing before everyone goes." All eyes turned to Malcolm. He still remained on the sofa, hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees. With his hands dangling in front of him, he looked the perfect posture of composure. But the look he suddenly leveled on the room, including his sister, was anything but calm.
"Everyone has had their own lives to run," Malcolm started. "I get that. But this individual fell into your laps and each and every one of you used ?them for your own gain. You asked after their feelings on matters but you didn't let it alter your own course. Or what you believed should be done. That stops now. $name has agency. The Night Market does not work for you. Consent is going to start being a topic around here. If anyone has an issue with it, my door is open."
I looked around the room, gauging the others reactions. Hazel's head was down, her feet shuffling back and forth while Gabriel gave little to no expression. And while Bella's face was calm, I could see the way her lips thinned. Malcolm didn't balk. He looked at them all with a raised brow.
<<if $miloro == "true">>Tipping her head to the side, Belladonna regaurded him icely. "And will you be having this discussion with your dearest Milo as well?"
"Oh, believe me, the discussion I will be having with Milo will be far more involved than what I stated just now."<</if>>
Gabriel was the first to move. Stepping forward, he breezed past the situation cooly before turning to me. I could see the tightness around his eyes as he addressed me. “Is there anything you need before we depart?”
“Yes, dear heart,” Belladonna said, brushing a stray lock from her golden eyes. “Did you wish to come with us?”
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]
<<elseif $platonic == "true">>[[Stay with Malcolm and Hazel]]<</if>>
<<if $gabrielro == "true">>[[Ask for a moment with Gabriel]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna (poly)|Go with G and B]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Ask for a moment with Belladonna]]
[[Go with Gabriel and Belladonna (poly)|Go with G and B]]<</if>>
“Gabriel,” I started, “do you think I could have a moment with you?”
He did not look surprised at my request. Merely nodded his head before looking at Belladonna. “I think perhaps we need to have a few meetings soon, discussing some of the issues that will be arising with Baronhood.”
“I assure you, Warden, they are issues that I am quite willing to handle. I have already made it clear we will be working with the Velvet Guard. You simply must tell me when you have your underlings under control. I am on the way to taming mine.”
Again, Gabriel nodded, holding open the apothecary door for me and ushering me out. I gave one last look at Hazel who was already fretting over Malcolm. For his part, Malcolm seemed to be humoring her, but I knew that the entire situation was going to come to a head eventually. “To my office?” Gabriel asked as we stepped outside.
“Some place quieter, please,” I requested.
We wandered through the empty alley silently, the two of us aware of just how still the small stretch of market had become. The absence of spirits was not one I would miss and I was hopeful that maybe apothecary alley could return to its former glory. I knew, however, that we were ignoring the amount of magic that had been drawn from this spot
“You aren’t going to arrest Hazel, are you?” I asked Gabriel as we continued to walk.
He looked at me, startled by the question, before he came to the same dawning realization. Magic had always been toted as illegal. And while we all knew that Hazel used it, there was a difference with the magic she used for her tonics and to help others, versus the magic she used to call Malcolm home.
Gabriel sighed, as if the question had already weighed heavily on him. “No. I will not be arresting her. While she is in violation of the magical contract of this world, I was not blind to the things she was doing. I would be pinning myself as an accomplice if I arrested her. A hypocrite as well if I did not arrest myself.”
[[Self-preservation doesn’t sound like you]]
[[The magical treaty seems like a formality at this point]]
[[Good. Not that I would let you anyway]]
When Belladonna and Gabriel exited the shop, I watched the two guards out front. Gabriel stopped, staring at the two of them and looking them up and down. He then looked at Belladonna. “Fire them.”
“You are dismissed.”
The door shut firmly behind them.
“Nothing’s changed between those two.” Malcolm leaned back in his seat, wincing. Hazel was by his side before he even opened his eyes, pushing a pillow behind his back.
“I didn’t even know you knew them,” she said, fluffing the pillow.
“Did a little job for Bella. Back when she was a Graceling.” Malcolm settled, letting out a long line of breath. I could see the way pain was creeping across his face, creating deep lines that ran across his brow and sent beads of sweat dappling across his skin.
“What’s a Graceling?” Hazel asked.
“A complication.” When Hazel handed him a cup of tea, he took it with a strained smile.
“You shouldn’t be up yet,” she said softly. “Your body needs time to heal.”
“And it can heal down here just fine.” Curling the warmth of the mug close, he closed his eyes for a long minute in an effort to have his sister leave him alone. She was hovering, biting at her thumb nervously.
“Is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do? I- I’m just so happy you’re back.”
He smiled warmly, though his eyes remained closed. “I’m a bit hungry,” he said.
She jumped from her position on the sofa, nearly toppling over the table. “I’ll go whip up something to eat. A light snack before dinner. $name, you should eat too. Oh, I think I have the perfect idea. I’ll be back in a bit.” She bustled out of the room, muttering to herself. When I turned back to Malcolm, I saw his eyes track on her, watching as she safely navigated herself to another room.
He shifted a little, tossing aside the pillows that she had shoved around him. When Billows jumped up in his lap he made room for the cat, scratching their ears from behind.
“How are you doing with all this?” he asked.
[[I’m sick of that question]]
[[Oddly at peace now that I have a direction to go in]]
[[Not good|Chapter Twelve Not good]]I didn’t know when I had stood up. When I had walked through the shop to stare at the carnage a bit more. Hazel had been kneeling here, only a few nights prior. And with a touch of my hand, Malcolm had life breathed into him once more.
“I’m so sick of that question,” I told him. It had been asked so many times in so many different ways. How are you adjusting? How are you finding life in the Night Market? Are you doing alright after the Deep? After that Baron meeting? After seeing Kavatti torn to shreds?
“I’m sorry,” he told me, his voice echoing from behind me as I stepped over lines of old blood and broken bits of willow.
“Not your fault,” I muttered.
“No. But I’m sure that question has been asked to an irritating degree. I’ll navigate that one. Just going to take me a minute.”
[[You’re not the Gatekeeper anymore. You don’t need to concern yourself with the Night Market]]
[[Why are you being so kind?]]
[[I’d actually appreciate that. Thank you]]
“You’re not the Gatekeeper anymore,” I told him. “You don’t need to concern yourself with the Night Market.” He didn’t need to concern himself with me.
He smirked a bit at that, nodding his head and holding his hands up. “I’ll try to back off if I’m making you uncomfortable. But, given what a shit show this entire situation of yours is, and that it concerns all of us, I don’t foresee me not caring any further.”
I bit my tongue to keep from snapping back at him. I didn’t know why his concern grated on me. All I knew was that I felt raw and exposed and I didn’t want yet another person asking me how I was doing in an effort to… to what? To care? Closing my eyes, I shook my head. The days had grown far too long and I possibly needed more rest than I had been giving myself room for.
Shifting so Billows was tucked against his side, Malcolm lifted one leg gingerly so it curled beneath him. “Did you know I became the Gatekeeper by accident,” he said.
I turned away from the wreckage that was the shop I had worked at for the last few months. I didn’t know if I could look at it anymore. Everything Hazel prided herself on was now in carnage.
“I was on a job,” he told me as I sat across from him. “Was supposed to be trailing this rich noble couple. They were using magic illegally and the people who hired me wanted proof of it. Never mind, they too, were using magic illegally. Everyone that hired me during those days, I’m pretty sure were the duplicitous type. Anyway, I was trailing the couple and they turned down this alley and immediately, I knew something was wrong. Like, I felt it in my gut. When I got close enough, I realized this couple was using their magic, this corruption, on this girl. She looked fresh to the market. Didn’t even look like she knew where she was. They were forcing this parasite down her throat and she was just dazed and looking all around. I went to go intervene and they ran. I got the thing out of the girl's throat and I went to go send her on her way. But I was young and jumpy and so I took out my knife. When I rounded the corner, I heard someone coming up behind me. I turned and stabbed them.”
“Were they trying to attack you?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think I panicked and I just lashed out. The girl ran and I stayed with the man as he died.” It was still a moment that haunted him, even after his own death. I couldn’t imagine sitting and watching the light from someone's eyes fade. “The second his soul left him, I felt this burning heat pass through me. I suddenly couldn't think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even scream. And then it was done. I was the Gatekeeper. My brain had unlocked the knowledge as if it had always been there and what I needed to do, who I was, suddenly was muscle memory. All the while the man was cooling at my feet.”
“What did you do after?” I didn’t dare speak above a whisper, something about the moment feeling precious and fragile.
“I went home that night and I just sat there, knowing that if I were to tell anyone I loved, that suddenly I would be putting them in danger. My life changed without my consent and I was terrified.”
Setting his tea aside, he looked at me evenly.
“You are allowed to be terrified of change. You are allowed to be terrified of what you are and what you are becoming. You are allowed to be terrified of what you have to do.”
“But what if I can’t handle it?”
“Alone? No, you can’t. No one can handle these types of responsibilities alone. The very construct of single Barons is a set-up for failure. You, are arguably more important than that.”
“What if I don’t want to be this?”
“I know what it's like to be born as someone you don’t like,” Malcolm said softly. “So let this one marinate a bit. If, in time, you still feel like you don’t fit inside your own skin, then we’ll look into how to make you who you truly are. I just need you to tell me who you are, Lamplight.”
I thought about that, knowing the answer might change as the pieces all fell into place. As I got used to what was happening.
<<if $hazelro == "false">>[[I don’t know anymore]]
[[I’m the Night Market]]
[[I'm just me]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[I don't know anymore|H I don't know anymore]]
[[I'm the Night Market|H I'm the Night Market]]
[[I'm $name. Just $name|H I'm $name]]<</if>>I didn’t know how to take his words. The consideration that was within them was not something I quite understood. He didn’t know me. He shouldn’t care. “Why are you being so kind?” I asked softly.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Because,” he said with a small shrug. “Once it had been my task to help you and I did so within the best of my ability. And I’m sorry to say that my predecessor has maybe not treated your heart as kind.” <<elseif $miloro == "false">>“Because,” he said with a small shrug. “Once it had been my task to help you and I did so within the best of my ability. And I’m sorry to say that my predecessor has maybe not treated you as kind.”<</if>>
“You’re angry with him, aren’t you.” I could feel it each time Milo was mentioned. Though, Malcolm didn’t answer me. He just smiled tightly, letting me decide.
Shifting so Billows was tucked against his side, Malcolm lifted one leg gingerly so it curled beneath him. “Did you know I became the Gatekeeper by accident,” he said.
I turned away from the wreckage that was the shop I had worked at for the last few months. I didn’t know if I could look at it anymore. Everything Hazel prided herself on was now in carnage.
“I was on a job,” he told me as I sat across from him. “Was supposed to be trailing this rich noble couple. They were using magic illegally and the people who hired me wanted proof of it. Never mind, they too, were using magic illegally. Everyone that hired me during those days, I’m pretty sure were the duplicitous type. Anyway, I was trailing the couple and they turned down this alley and immediately, I knew something was wrong. Like, I felt it in my gut. When I got close enough, I realized this couple was using their magic, this corruption, on this girl. She looked fresh to the market. Didn’t even look like she knew where she was. They were forcing this parasite down her throat and she was just dazed and looking all around. I went to go intervene and they ran. I got the thing out of the girl's throat and I went to go send her on her way. But I was young and jumpy and so I took out my knife. When I rounded the corner, I heard someone coming up behind me. I turned and stabbed them.”
“Were they trying to attack you?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think I panicked and I just lashed out. The girl ran and I stayed with the man as he died.” It was still a moment that haunted him, even after his own death. I couldn’t imagine sitting and watching the light from someone's eyes fade. “The second his soul left him, I felt this burning heat pass through me. I suddenly couldn't think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even scream. And then it was done. I was the Gatekeeper. My brain had unlocked the knowledge as if it had always been there and what I needed to do, who I was, suddenly was muscle memory. All the while the man was cooling at my feet.”
“What did you do after?” I didn’t dare speak above a whisper, something about the moment feeling precious and fragile.
“I went home that night and I just sat there, knowing that if I were to tell anyone I loved, that suddenly I would be putting them in danger. My life changed without my consent and I was terrified.”
Setting his tea aside, he looked at me evenly.
“You are allowed to be terrified of change. You are allowed to be terrified of what you are and what you are becoming. You are allowed to be terrified of what you have to do.”
“But what if I can’t handle it?”
“Alone? No, you can’t. No one can handle these types of responsibilities alone. The very construct of single Barons is a set-up for failure. You, are arguably more important than that.”
“What if I don’t want to be this?”
“I know what it's like to be born as someone you don’t like,” Malcolm said softly. “So let this one marinate a bit. If, in time, you still feel like you don’t fit inside your own skin, then we’ll look into how to make you who you truly are. I just need you to tell me who you are, Lamplight.”
I thought about that, knowing the answer might change as the pieces all fell into place. As I got used to what was happening.
<<if $hazelro == "false">>[[I don’t know anymore]]
[[I’m the Night Market]]
[[I'm just me]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[I don't know anymore|H I don't know anymore]]
[[I'm the Night Market|H I'm the Night Market]]
[[I'm $name. Just $name|H I'm $name]]<</if>>The world felt incomplete somehow. Like the shard that I inhabited was just not quite fitting back into its given slot. There was emotion and confusion, all bundled up in a harsh knot and it sat at the base of my skull in an ever present reminder that despite being something big and powerful, I was still standing in an apothecary shop that I swept out nearly every night.
Closing my eyes, I nodded towards Belladonna. Fresh air and the ability to focus on something that wasn’t this given moment in time, sounded perfect. Standing, I went to join the two of them. My hope for while I was gone, was for Hazel and Malcolm to spend some time together. After ten years, brother and sister might desperately need it.
“$name,” Hazel asked. She was standing near Malcolm but was shifting nervously on her feet. She had been doing it since learning of me. Of Milo. Since Malcolm had gained the ability to walk two feet without collapsing. “Are you going to be okay?”
It was a funny question really. One that Hazel had been asking from the second she met me. It now took on a completely different tone. No longer was there the obligatory concern for how I was handling the responsibility that was put on my shoulders. Now, I was the responsibility. I was the very thing they had all been trying to save and as I looked at them now, unchanged, I didn’t know if it had sunk in yet.
I chose not to answer her. I didn’t know how to, really. I didn’t know if she was asking if this little shard of flesh that I was using to walk and talk would be okay, or if she was asking if I, the Night Market, would survive this. I didn’t think I could answer, in the end. So instead, I gave her a weak smile and walked towards Belladonna and Gabriel. The two of them stepped to either side of me, surrounding me unconsciously.
“We’ll return ?them later, Ms. Albright,” Gabriel vowed. “Mr. Albright, I do hope your recovery goes well.”
Malcolm nodded towards Gabriel in thanks. The two of them communicating more through their one look than I think I ever could with countless hours of babbling.
The door opened and the three of us stepped outside. Gabriel paused, looking at the two guards that stood on either side of the door, having waited for Belladonna. They stood stoically, red eyes staring into the shadows, lips thinned in silence. Unimpressed, Gabriel looked towards Belladonna, meeting her gaze in askance. I watched as she shrugged at him, making a small wave with her hand as if to convey how uninterested she truly was in the care of her guards.
Gabriel turned to the two men. “You both are fired,” he informed them.
The vampires startled, their eyes twitching towards Belladonna. She was looking back at them dispassionately, waiting for them to leave. When they didn’t move, she raised a brow towards them. “You heard the man,” she said. “Go.”
“Baron Malady, you cannot just….”
Belladonna had the vampire by the throat before I even blinked, pinning him to the side of Hazel’s house. Leaning in close, she smiled prettily at him. “Tell me again what I can and cannot do.”
The vampires swallowed. His feet dangled an inch off the ground as he was held there, the pulse that had long ago died quickening somewhere as an echo of the life that was held in balance. When she let him down, neither vampire hesitated. With a flutter of wings, they flew off in a flurry of bats.
Turning, Belladonna looked at Gabriel. “What did you see, pet?”
“Blood poison. They had two pinches of it held inside the hilt of their daggers.”
Belladonna looked highly impressed at the find and it was clear that she had not seen it either. “Oh, delightful,” she murmured. “I didn’t think they would stoop to the basics. It’s a little bit refreshing, don’t you think?” When she looked at me, seeing my expression she tried to hide her smile just a bit. Pulling back from her amusement over the shedding of blood. “Dear heart, do not worry. Assassination attempts are just going to be the new normal for me. It doesn’t mean anything really.”
[[You are a bit too excited about your own death]]
[[Please get that security detail sooner rather than later]]
[[It's going to take me some time to get used to this]]
<<set $gbpoly to "true">>The world felt incomplete somehow. Like the shard that I inhabited, was not quite fitting back into its given slot. There was emotion and confusion, all bundled up in a harsh knot and it sat at the base of my skull in an ever present reminder that despite being something big and powerful, I was still standing in an apothecary shop that I swept out nearly every night.
Closing my eyes, I tried to gather myself. It had been a game I had been playing. How much time passed before I started to feel the crushing weight of what I was press in from every side. “Do you think I could have a moment alone with you, Belladonna?” I asked the question, expecting a no. She was a busy woman. Always had been. I doubted it would be any easier to vie for her time now that she was a Baron.
But instead, something happened that I had no quite expected. The slow tap of Belladonna’s heels sounded across the room before stopping in front of me. The air felt thick and the silence that surrounded us made the rest of the world fade away. When I opened my eyes, she was right there, the teasing notes upon her lips absent as her brow furrowed in concern.
“Do you need me, my heart?” she whispered.
I don’t know if I nodded or uttered a sound, but Belladonna received the answer all the same. Turning to the rest of the room, she sighed. “$name and I will be going back to my place. If the street urchin shows his petty little face, let me know.”
I was whisked from the room without another word. I thought I heard Hazel start to say something but she was either cut off or we moved through the market at such speed, I wasn’t given the chance to hear her. Because in the end, I was in Belladonna’s arms, wrapped up in her cool embrace, with darkness surrounding us. I could feel the leathery flutter of bats brush my skin and as I stared into her eyes, I thought I could hear the echo of a distant scream.
“No, sweetling,” Belladonna murmured as I began to look away. “Best not to pry.” Her lips did not move, her voice echoing inside my head, and whether I was conscious of it or not, I was falling into her command and was thankful to do so.
And then the scent of burnt sugar filled my nose and we were standing in the Pleasure District, as if we had just casually walked there.
[[How did you do that?|Chapter Twelve How did you do that?]]
[[That was incredibly hot]]
[[Is that how you get through the market so quick?]]
I didn’t know when I had stood. When I had walked through the shop to stare at the carnage a bit more. Hazel had been kneeling here, only a few nights prior. And with a touch of my hand, Malcolm had life breathed into him once more.
Looking over my shoulder, I caught the way he was following me. I wondered if I was just as much of a puzzle to him as he was to me. “Oddly enough,” I said. “Knowing what I am has brought some amount of peace. I still have my moments. Almost like I don’t believe it. But, it’s a direction, you know? A point in which I now have to go forward.”
“Not many would see it like that,” he said.
I shrugged. “I’m not many, I guess.” I frowned at that. “Or, I guess I kind of am, actually? The language around this entire thing is going to get confusing.”
He laughed. “I’m actually impressed you aren’t crying in a corner,” he said.
I gave him a small smile. “No, that was last night.” I would never admit to him how close to the truth that actually was.
Shifting so Billows was tucked against his side, Malcolm lifted one leg gingerly so it curled beneath him. “Did you know I became the Gatekeeper by accident,” he said.
I turned away from the wreckage that was the shop I had worked at for the last few months. I didn’t know if I could look at it anymore. Everything Hazel prided herself on was now in carnage.
“I was on a job,” he told me as I sat across from him. “Was supposed to be trailing this rich noble couple. They were using magic illegally and the people who hired me wanted proof of it. Never mind, they too, were using magic illegally. Everyone that hired me during those days, I’m pretty sure were the duplicitous type. Anyway, I was trailing the couple and they turned down this alley and immediately, I knew something was wrong. Like, I felt it in my gut. When I got close enough, I realized this couple was using their magic, this corruption, on this girl. She looked fresh to the market. Didn’t even look like she knew where she was. They were forcing this parasite down her throat and she was just dazed and looking all around. I went to go intervene and they ran. I got the thing out of the girl's throat and I went to go send her on her way. But I was young and jumpy and so I took out my knife. When I rounded the corner, I heard someone coming up behind me. I turned and stabbed them.”
“Were they trying to attack you?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think I panicked and I just lashed out. The girl ran and I stayed with the man as he died.” It was still a moment that haunted him, even after his own death. I couldn’t imagine sitting and watching the light from someone's eyes fade. “The second his soul left him, I felt this burning heat pass through me. I suddenly couldn't think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even scream. And then it was done. I was the Gatekeeper. My brain had unlocked the knowledge as if it had always been there and what I needed to do, who I was, suddenly was muscle memory. All the while the man was cooling at my feet.”
“What did you do after?” I didn’t dare speak above a whisper, something about the moment feeling precious and fragile.
“I went home that night and I just sat there, knowing that if I were to tell anyone I loved, that suddenly I would be putting them in danger. My life changed without my consent and I was terrified.”
Setting his tea aside, he looked at me evenly.
“You are allowed to be terrified of change. You are allowed to be terrified of what you are and what you are becoming. You are allowed to be terrified of what you have to do.”
“But what if I can’t handle it?”
“Alone? No, you can’t. No one can handle these types of responsibilities alone. The very construct of single Barons is a set-up for failure. You, are arguably more important than that.”
“What if I don’t want to be this?”
“I know what it's like to be born as someone you don’t like,” Malcolm said softly. “So let this one marinate a bit. If, in time, you still feel like you don’t fit inside your own skin, then we’ll look into how to make you who you truly are. I just need you to tell me who you are, Lamplight.”
I thought about that, knowing the answer might change as the pieces all fell into place. As I got used to what was happening.
<<if $hazelro == "false">>[[I don’t know anymore]]
[[I’m the Night Market]]
[[I'm just me]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[I don't know anymore|H I don't know anymore]]
[[I'm the Night Market|H I'm the Night Market]]
[[I'm $name. Just $name|H I'm $name]]<</if>>“Not great,” I told him. I didn’t know when I had stood. When I had walked through the shop to stare at the carnage a bit more. Hazel had been kneeling here, only a few nights prior. And with a touch of my hand, Malcolm had life breathed into him once more.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“No, I don’t imagine finding out that you are the Night Market and that the man you have been seeing is the Gatekeeper, is a great feeling.” His voice carried from behind me, his words still coming as a shock, despite myself having repeated them over and over again. “But mainly, I’m more looking for how you are handling this one. More in the scale of are you ready to go screaming into the night or are you processing it all.” <<elseif $miloro == "false">>“No, I don’t imagine finding out that you are the Night Market is a great feeling.” His voice carried from behind me, his words still coming as a shock, despite myself having repeated them over and over again. There was responsibility with that title. I just hadn’t known I had it. “But mainly, I’m more looking for how you are handling this one. More in the scale of are you ready to go screaming into the night or are you processing it all.”<</if>>
[[Processing]]
[[Screaming into the night]]I thought about it seriously for a long moment. “Processing,” I said. “I think I’m still processing.” It felt like I would be processing for a long time to come. Often I had thought about how I would no sooner take in one bit of information, before being bombarded with another. I wanted to say that those events prepared me for this moment. In reality, they were only minor precursors to the truth. Now, I simply hoped that this was the final period at the end of a sentence.
Shifting so Billows was tucked against his side, Malcolm lifted one leg gingerly so it curled beneath him. “Did you know I became the Gatekeeper by accident,” he said.
I turned away from the wreckage that was the shop I had worked at for the last few months. I didn’t know if I could look at it anymore. Everything Hazel prided herself on was now in carnage.
“I was on a job,” he told me as I sat across from him. “Was supposed to be trailing this rich noble couple. They were using magic illegally and the people who hired me wanted proof of it. Never mind, they too, were using magic illegally. Everyone that hired me during those days, I’m pretty sure were the duplicitous type. Anyway, I was trailing the couple and they turned down this alley and immediately, I knew something was wrong. Like, I felt it in my gut. When I got close enough, I realized this couple was using their magic, this corruption, on this girl. She looked fresh to the market. Didn’t even look like she knew where she was. They were forcing this parasite down her throat and she was just dazed and looking all around. I went to go intervene and they ran. I got the thing out of the girl's throat and I went to go send her on her way. But I was young and jumpy and so I took out my knife. When I rounded the corner, I heard someone coming up behind me. I turned and stabbed them.”
“Were they trying to attack you?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think I panicked and I just lashed out. The girl ran and I stayed with the man as he died.” It was still a moment that haunted him, even after his own death. I couldn’t imagine sitting and watching the light from someone's eyes fade. “The second his soul left him, I felt this burning heat pass through me. I suddenly couldn't think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even scream. And then it was done. I was the Gatekeeper. My brain had unlocked the knowledge as if it had always been there and what I needed to do, who I was, suddenly was muscle memory. All the while the man was cooling at my feet.”
“What did you do after?” I didn’t dare speak above a whisper, something about the moment feeling precious and fragile.
“I went home that night and I just sat there, knowing that if I were to tell anyone I loved, that suddenly I would be putting them in danger. My life changed without my consent and I was terrified.”
Setting his tea aside, he looked at me evenly.
“You are allowed to be terrified of change. You are allowed to be terrified of what you are and what you are becoming. You are allowed to be terrified of what you have to do.”
“But what if I can’t handle it?”
“Alone? No, you can’t. No one can handle these types of responsibilities alone. The very construct of single Barons is a set-up for failure. You, are arguably more important than that.”
“What if I don’t want to be this?”
“I know what it's like to be born as someone you don’t like,” Malcolm said softly. “So let this one marinate a bit. If, in time, you still feel like you don’t fit inside your own skin, then we’ll look into how to make you who you truly are. I just need you to tell me who you are, Lamplight.”
I thought about that, knowing the answer might change as the pieces all fell into place. As I got used to what was happening.
<<if $hazelro == "false">>[[I don’t know anymore]]
[[I’m the Night Market]]
[[I'm just me]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[I don't know anymore|H I don't know anymore]]
[[I'm the Night Market|H I'm the Night Market]]
[[I'm $name. Just $name|H I'm $name]]<</if>>“Screaming, if I’m honest,” I told him with a small, tired smile. The temptation to go outside and hear how my own howls echoed across the lantern filled sky was great. Though now, the idea was tainted with the fact that the world was the echo chamber of my own mind.
Shifting so Billows was tucked against his side, Malcolm lifted one leg gingerly so it curled beneath him. “Did you know I became the Gatekeeper by accident,” he said.
I turned away from the wreckage that was the shop I had worked at for the last few months. I didn’t know if I could look at it anymore. Everything Hazel prided herself on was now in carnage.
“I was on a job,” he told me as I sat across from him. “Was supposed to be trailing this rich noble couple. They were using magic illegally and the people who hired me wanted proof of it. Never mind, they too, were using magic illegally. Everyone that hired me during those days, I’m pretty sure were the duplicitous type. Anyway, I was trailing the couple and they turned down this alley and immediately, I knew something was wrong. Like, I felt it in my gut. When I got close enough, I realized this couple was using their magic, this corruption, on this girl. She looked fresh to the market. Didn’t even look like she knew where she was. They were forcing this parasite down her throat and she was just dazed and looking all around. I went to go intervene and they ran. I got the thing out of the girl's throat and I went to go send her on her way. But I was young and jumpy and so I took out my knife. When I rounded the corner, I heard someone coming up behind me. I turned and stabbed them.”
“Were they trying to attack you?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think I panicked and I just lashed out. The girl ran and I stayed with the man as he died.” It was still a moment that haunted him, even after his own death. I couldn’t imagine sitting and watching the light from someone's eyes fade. “The second his soul left him, I felt this burning heat pass through me. I suddenly couldn't think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even scream. And then it was done. I was the Gatekeeper. My brain had unlocked the knowledge as if it had always been there and what I needed to do, who I was, suddenly was muscle memory. All the while the man was cooling at my feet.”
“What did you do after?” I didn’t dare speak above a whisper, something about the moment feeling precious and fragile.
“I went home that night and I just sat there, knowing that if I were to tell anyone I loved, that suddenly I would be putting them in danger. My life changed without my consent and I was terrified.”
Setting his tea aside, he looked at me evenly.
“You are allowed to be terrified of change. You are allowed to be terrified of what you are and what you are becoming. You are allowed to be terrified of what you have to do.”
“But what if I can’t handle it?”
“Alone? No, you can’t. No one can handle these types of responsibilities alone. The very construct of single Barons is a set-up for failure. You, are arguably more important than that.”
“What if I don’t want to be this?”
“I know what it's like to be born as someone you don’t like,” Malcolm said softly. “So let this one marinate a bit. If, in time, you still feel like you don’t fit inside your own skin, then we’ll look into how to make you who you truly are. I just need you to tell me who you are, Lamplight.”
I thought about that, knowing the answer might change as the pieces all fell into place. As I got used to what was happening.
<<if $hazelro == "false">>[[I don’t know anymore]]
[[I’m the Night Market]]
[[I'm just me]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[I don't know anymore|H I don't know anymore]]
[[I'm the Night Market|H I'm the Night Market]]
[[I'm $name. Just $name|H I'm $name]]<</if>>“I don’t know anymore,” I told him miserably. I wanted to be me but all I was, was a simple construct sent down from something far grander. And not even that felt real. I didn’t feel like some cosmic entity. I just felt small. Like someone had just told me everything I had come to rely on was a lie. “I really just don’t know, Malcolm,” I said, looking away ashamed. I wish I did. Given what I was, shouldn’t I have this all figured out by now?
“Well,” Malcolm said. “Then tell you what. When you do know, tell me. But in the meantime, if you are amenable, I would love to discover who you are along with you.”
I nodded numbly, not sure what that would even entail. That was what I thought I had been doing, after all.
“Now, I have a request?” I nodded. “Can we talk about anything that is not the overwhelming nature of Barons and Gatekeepers and worlds ending?” He looked exhausted with the mere concept of it. I knew the feeling well.
I laughed. “I would like that.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 1]]“I’m the Night Market,” I said. It was stated in a tone that was half convincing myself and half acknowledging what I was trying to wrap my own head around. But it felt right. It was the first thing in a long while that felt as if it were true to me, as opposed to me just grasping for some sense of understanding elsewhere.
Malcolm smirked, staring at me with a sly grin. “You are the Night Market,” he repeated. “Welcome to being the most powerful person in the room at all times.”
The merit of that statement was a nice one. I wasn’t going to lie. “There is that.”
“Now, I have a request?” I nodded. “Can we talk about anything that is not the overwhelming nature of Barons and Gatekeepers and worlds ending?” He looked exhausted with the mere concept of it. I knew the feeling well.
I laughed. “I would like that.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 1]]“I’m $name,” I told him. “That’s what I want to be. I’ve come to like me and I don’t know if I want that to change.” While conceptually I knew I was the Night Market, I didn’t want it to negate who I had grown to be either. I had no idea if that would work or if I was just staving off the inevitable, but right now, for my own peace of mind, I didn’t want to be the Night Market. I wanted to be me.
“Well,” he said, holding out his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you $name. I’m Malcolm.”
I laughed a little at that. “It’s nice to meet you too, Malcolm.”
“Now, I have a request?” I nodded. “Can we talk about anything that is not the overwhelming nature of Barons and Gatekeepers and worlds ending?” He looked exhausted with the mere concept of it. I knew the feeling well.
I laughed. “I would like that.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 1]]It had been two weeks. Two weeks of no word from Milo. Of going through the motions of life with no discernible direction. Two hits had been made on Belladonna’s life, according to Gabriel. Belladonna laughed at the notion of them even being hits, apparently having taken care of them without so much as batting an eye. She claimed the shake up in her daily routine was refreshing. <<if $freecaliban == "true">>Gabriel, meanwhile, was taking a more active interest in the newer recruits of the Velvet Guard. In the next week, they were going to be dismantling the auction block. He had made an announcement a few days ago that there would be no more public auctions. The backlash he had received nearly caused the prison to crumble with a riot. The stone bridge that led to the front door of the Guard was a mess of rubble. It, along with the entirety of the Velvet Guard, would have to be rebuilt. <<elseif $freecaliban == "false">> Gabriel, meanwhile, was tightening down on the Velvet Guard. Hiring more recruits and sending them out into the market. There was an unofficial manhunt for Milo. Officers were now posed at each known location of a gate.<</if>>
Meanwhile, Hazel hadn’t left Malcolm’s side. From the moment the man rose to the time he went to bed, she hovered. For the time being, Malcolm placated it, but as he grew stronger, it was clear that it wouldn’t happen for much longer. It was that day that I began to fear far more. The day when Hazel had no more direction. Her thoughts had been consumed for so long with getting her brother back that she was not replacing them with getting him acclimated to the world again. A feat, that I was beginning to realize, Malcolm did not need.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>I had tried. Tried to be the distraction that I thought she might need. Gently guiding her to rest or to take small moments away from Malcolm. But I was never successful for long. At night, as I tossed in my own bed, I could hear her pacing the house. Getting up to peak into Malcolm’s room, making sure he was still alive. She couldn’t go on like that forever.<</if>><<if $hazelbreakup == "true">> That, and she didn’t want my affection. She barely wanted me there. Some moments, she would forget. But I could see it, each time what I had done returned to her. But when I tried to talk to her, she went to Malcolm’s side, pushing me out instead.<</if>>
Malcolm was quieter than I expected him to be. Most days I spotted him in the corner of a room, drawing, head bent low, hair falling in front of his eyes. While he never seemed to acknowledge the comings and goings of the room, I knew he always knew where I was at. His eyes would follow me without looking, his gaze piercing me as if he was trying to figure out just what I was to do next.
He didn’t mention Milo. It was quickly becoming the taboo topic of conversation as the days passed and he didn’t step through the front door. Game night came and passed, dinners were served without him. I kept expecting to look up and see his lopsided grin from across the table. His amber eyes shining with mirth. <<if $miloro == "true">>I still didn’t understand it and looking back on our last moments together, I realized with unwavering certainty, that he was saying goodbye.<</if>>
Exiting my room, I saw Hazel rummaging in the kitchen like she did most mornings while Malcolm sat in one of the chairs, art book open on his lap. I sank down across from him, looking out the window. The rain had not stopped for days and the market had felt dimmer and dimmer. There was a point where I had tried to laugh, tried to not look at the world with worriment, but it felt hollow. Like I was not quite being who I needed to be.
Over the last few weeks, things had come to me in waves. Images that I hadn’t quite understood before. Moments that I felt more than remembered and with each new bit of information that filtered in, I felt myself vibrating. Like I was far too big for the skin that I was now contained in.
I could see the lanterns on the horizon, far past the now dark alleyway. They shimmered in something familiar, swaying gently. Malcolm had explained to me that I was a part of a bigger whole. He suspected this wasn’t the first time I had come down here either. But as hard as I tried, I couldn’t remember why I was here.
[[Being the Night Market made me feel powerful]]
[[Being the Night Market made me feel small]]
[[I still could’t quite understand what I was]]Thinking about it for a moment, I nodded my head, not trying to argue. “I’d really appreciate that, actually. Thank you.” There was guidance to Malcolm. Something that I had been looking for from the beginning. It was a guidance that Gabriel, Hazel and Belladonna had all touched on at various points, but I had always been left with a sense of lacking. Like their words didn’t hold a weight that I was craving. Not that that was their fault. Whatever this bond was between Market and Gatekeeper was one I would need to spend more time trying to understand.
“Does anyone look out for you?” I asked. If the Gatekeeper was concerned with the Market, I did wonder who was concerned with the Gatekeeper. Or the former Gatekeeper, really.
He raised a brow. “Did you not just see, Hazel?”
The girl had practically tied a bell around Malcolm’s neck. “She is a little overzealous it appears.”
“That is not even the worst of it,” he said in all seriousness.
I did shudder to think what Hazel was like if she could get any more concerned. I also wondered how long Malcolm would give her before he couldn’t take it any longer.
Shifting so Billows was tucked against his side, Malcolm lifted one leg gingerly so it curled beneath him. “Did you know I became the Gatekeeper by accident,” he said.
I turned away from the wreckage that was the shop I had worked at for the last few months. I didn’t know if I could look at it anymore. Everything Hazel prided herself on was now in carnage.
“I was on a job,” he told me as I sat across from him. “Was supposed to be trailing this rich noble couple. They were using magic illegally and the people who hired me wanted proof of it. Never mind, they too, were using magic illegally. Everyone that hired me during those days, I’m pretty sure were the duplicitous type. Anyway, I was trailing the couple and they turned down this alley and immediately, I knew something was wrong. Like, I felt it in my gut. When I got close enough, I realized this couple was using their magic, this corruption, on this girl. She looked fresh to the market. Didn’t even look like she knew where she was. They were forcing this parasite down her throat and she was just dazed and looking all around. I went to go intervene and they ran. I got the thing out of the girl's throat and I went to go send her on her way. But I was young and jumpy and so I took out my knife. When I rounded the corner, I heard someone coming up behind me. I turned and stabbed them.”
“Were they trying to attack you?”
“No. I don’t think so. I think I panicked and I just lashed out. The girl ran and I stayed with the man as he died.” It was still a moment that haunted him, even after his own death. I couldn’t imagine sitting and watching the light from someone's eyes fade. “The second his soul left him, I felt this burning heat pass through me. I suddenly couldn't think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even scream. And then it was done. I was the Gatekeeper. My brain had unlocked the knowledge as if it had always been there and what I needed to do, who I was, suddenly was muscle memory. All the while the man was cooling at my feet.”
“What did you do after?” I didn’t dare speak above a whisper, something about the moment feeling precious and fragile.
“I went home that night and I just sat there, knowing that if I were to tell anyone I loved, that suddenly I would be putting them in danger. My life changed without my consent and I was terrified.”
Setting his tea aside, he looked at me evenly.
“You are allowed to be terrified of change. You are allowed to be terrified of what you are and what you are becoming. You are allowed to be terrified of what you have to do.”
“But what if I can’t handle it?”
“Alone? No, you can’t. No one can handle these types of responsibilities alone. The very construct of single Barons is a set-up for failure. You, are arguably more important than that.”
“What if I don’t want to be this?”
“I know what it's like to be born as someone you don’t like,” Malcolm said softly. “So let this one marinate a bit. If, in time, you still feel like you don’t fit inside your own skin, then we’ll look into how to make you who you truly are. I just need you to tell me who you are, Lamplight.”
I thought about that, knowing the answer might change as the pieces all fell into place. As I got used to what was happening.
<<if $hazelro == "false">>[[I don’t know anymore]]
[[I’m the Night Market]]
[[I'm just me]]<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[I don't know anymore|H I don't know anymore]]
[[I'm the Night Market|H I'm the Night Market]]
[[I'm $name. Just $name|H I'm $name]]<</if>>Finding out I was the Night Market gave me a sense of power. There was something about it that slotted in place in a way that made me feel bigger than I really was. As if I was existing in this world as an observer, with the ability to shape my surroundings in a way that actually held weight. I was no longer a voiceless name in the crowd. I was someone whose opinion mattered. I mattered. There was a feeling of completion that came with this knowledge that I was excited to explore.
“Malcolm, do you need more tea?” Hazel called from the kitchen.
I watched as Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, his hand pausing above his sketchbook. “I’m fine, Haze. Don’t you need to open the apothecary this morning?”
She walked out of the kitchenette, drying her hands on a towel. “I don’t think I’m going to open it today.”
“It’s been two weeks,” he commented. There had been a few customers outside the door some mornings and the order box was beginning to overflow. But each time someone asked about it, Hazel quickly dismissed the idea.
“It’s alright,” she said, yet again. The downstairs was not even cleaned yet. The leftovers of the ritual still stained the floorboards and the remnants of the gate were scattered against the counter.
[[Hazel, orders are stacking]]
[[I could go down and open shop for you]]
[[Did you want me to watch Malcolm for you?]]Finding out I was the Night Market felt like drowning. I was taken back to that moment in the Deep. How small I actually was. It was funny, really. How I felt so insignificant all of the sudden when in reality, I was the back of the world in which we lived. I couldn’t describe it though. Maybe it was the unseen responsibility that I now felt. The fact that I was the one accountable for the people around me. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing. How I was supposed to be acting. I was just existing in this little form, wandering around with no real concept of what needed to be done, searching the world blindly for answers to questions I didn’t even know were being asked.
“Malcolm, do you need more tea?” Hazel called from the kitchen.
I watched as Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, his hand pausing above his sketchbook. “I’m fine, Haze. Don’t you need to open the apothecary this morning?”
She walked out of the kitchenette, drying her hands on a towel. “I don’t think I’m going to open it today.”
“It’s been two weeks,” he commented. There had been a few customers outside the door some mornings and the order box was beginning to overflow. But each time someone asked about it, Hazel quickly dismissed the idea.
“It’s alright,” she said, yet again. The downstairs was not even cleaned yet. The leftovers of the ritual still stained the floorboards and the remnants of the gate were scattered against the counter.
[[Hazel, orders are stacking]]
[[I could go down and open shop for you]]
[[Did you want me to watch Malcolm for you?]]I couldn’t quite come to terms with what I was. How a world was supposed to be alive like this. Why I had chosen such a form to walk along these streets. These streets that were mine. Everything here was a part of me, feeding me, soothing me, causing me distress and laughter and desire. I felt like I was real. And I knew I was. But there was a part of me that expected to feel incomplete. As only a part of a whole, shouldn’t I feel like I’m not me? Should’t I feel lost?
Did I?
“Malcolm, do you need more tea?” Hazel called from the kitchen.
I watched as Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, his hand pausing above his sketchbook. “I’m fine, Haze. Don’t you need to open the apothecary this morning?”
She walked out of the kitchenette, drying her hands on a towel. “I don’t think I’m going to open it today.”
“It’s been two weeks,” he commented. There had been a few customers outside the door some mornings and the order box was beginning to overflow. But each time someone asked about it, Hazel quickly dismissed the idea.
“It’s alright,” she said, yet again. The downstairs was not even cleaned yet. The leftovers of the ritual still stained the floorboards and the remnants of the gate were scattered against the counter.
[[Hazel, orders are stacking]]
[[I could go down and open shop for you]]
[[Did you want me to watch Malcolm for you?]]“Hazel,” I tried. “Orders are stacking downstairs.” I knew it was the last on her mind when her brother was sitting so firmly before her. The flicker of panic that entered her eyes at my words was indication enough. <<if $hazelro == "true">>I tried to smile at her encouragingly, but I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to convince her that Malcolm would still be here even after a few hours of opening up shop.<</if>>
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I took a look at them and none of them are incredibly important.” I doubted that. I had also taken a look at them and her monthly orders were being neglected.
“Hazel,” Malcolm started. “Go open shop.”
“Malcolm, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine.”
“There is a sister out there somewhere that might need your services in helping their own brother,” he pointed out. “Don’t make me more important than them.”
She glared at him. I could see all pretences of placation drop from her face as he stared her down. “That’s a low blow and you know it.” Malcolm didn’t say anything in return. Instead, he continued to just stare at her until I was almost certain the two of them were frozen that way. But then Hazel’s shoulders slumped. “Fine.” <<if $hazelro == "true">> Coming up to me, she gave me a peck on the lips, clearly irritated but wishing to get this over and done with. There was little doubt in my mind that she would be up here within an hour. “Don’t let him boss you around,” she whispered. I smiled warmly at her, catching her hand before she left. Lifting it to my lips, I brushed a kiss across the back of her hand. Her smiled eased somewhat at the touch.<<elseif $hazelbreakup == "true">> She walked passed me without saying anything. Like all the times before, I tried to catch her eye but she avoided it with a darting gaze.<</if>>
We both watched Hazel leave the room and listened as she walked downstairs. I didn’t know if she would actually be opening the shop today but at the very least, she could perhaps address the absolute destruction that was riddling the downstairs lobby.
He looked up at me through his lashes. “Thank you.”
“You looked like you needed a break,” I told him. It was clear to anyone looking that Hazel was being overbearing. And Malcolm did not seem like the kind of man who did well with that.
“She means well,” Malcolm said, staring at the closed door as if he expected her to burst back in. “And I’m trying to have patience. It’s just going to take her a bit.”
“She missed you.”
“I missed her too.”
“How do you know?” My voice faltered after asking the question. I didn’t know this man enough to ask such things and with a voice that felt almost accusatory just on sheer principal. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t appropriate.”
“No. It’s fine. I was wandering the market for a while. I think I was successfully pulled back here early on. But then I just drifted. Lost. I couldn’t remember anything or anyone. Not until you went to Anemone. But I watched her sometimes. This girl that seemed so small. She almost looked like she did when we were little.”
The idea that he had been drawn to her without even knowing who she was, felt powerful somehow. It spoke of a bond between them that not even death could kill. “Who else did you watch?” I asked, wondering if he even remembered.
“Milo. Kamille. Few others you probably don’t know.” He paused briefly. “You. Though you were more recent.”
I felt myself a little taken aback, not sure that I liked the idea of being watched. Though, I suppose if his entire job before had been to protect me, he had probably been drawn to me without his knowledge. Muscle memory, in a sense. “And this isn’t weird for you?”
“I long ago erased the word weird from my vocabulary.” He shook out his hands, the fingers curled around the charcoal in a deep cramp. Dropping the pencil, he massaged out his hand, staring at his fingers. Muscle memory was not quite what it should have been then.
He laughed a little at himself, looking down at his work. “Can I confess something?” I gestured for him to go ahead. “I really need someone to make a move. Normally, I’m not the type of person who waits for the situation to come to me. But, well–” he motioned down to himself. He sat on the chair this morning, shirt off, the white bandages wrapped tightly around his middle. His steps were weak, his breaths were short when he walked too long, and he spent a good portion of his time breathing through pain or sleeping.
“Your hands are a bit tied,” I agreed.
“I know I’m of no help to you right now so anything coming our way isn’t exactly beneficial but–” head falling back he took a deep breath. “I’ve been dead for ten years. I don’t really want to be sitting here for much longer.”
[[How are you handling all that?]]
[[Is there anywhere Milo might be?]]
[[Maybe this is a blessing in disguise]]“Do you want me to open the shop for you?” I asked. I hadn’t run the downstairs on my own but I wanted to help. And I didn’t think I could spend another day just idly sitting up here in the apartment, watching her fret over a man who clearly just wanted to be left alone. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Besides, if I could somehow ease the manic energy she seemed consumed with, all the better. I had thought things would get better once she had Malcolm back, but she only seemed to be spiraling further.<<elseif $hazelbreakup == "true">>Besides, if I could somehow prove to her that I was still here, that we were going to get past this together, maybe she would start looking at me again. As it was, I don’t think she had willingly turned her gaze my way for close to two weeks.<</if>>
“No,” she waved me off. “Of course not. People can wait. We aren’t the only apothecary shop in town.”
I frowned at that. “But aren’t we?” There were little market stalls here and there that sold tinctures, but Hazel had said not to trust them. That they were herbal tonics done up by people who didn’t know the first thing about spell work and were essentially nothing more than a placebo that sometimes had pretty effects due to their herb choices.
“Hazel,” Malcolm started. “Go open shop.”
“Malcolm,” she said in the same tone he spoke to her in. “It is fine. Really.”
When Malcolm looked at her with narrowed eyes I could see the beginning of a sibling stand-off. And honestly, I didn’t want to be a part of it. Stepping between the two of them, I cut off their line of sight. “I think it would do you some good to get some fresh air,” I told her. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Reaching out, I cupped her cheek. “You’ve been running yourself ragged for days. Working with the earth and your herbs is going to be healing for you.”<</if>> I could see the hesitation on her face. The desire to not leave Malcolm’s side at all. “You have to take care of yourself too, Hazel. You can’t take care of him if you are burned out.”
That, seemed to get to her. Shoulders slumping, she begrudgingly nodded her head. “You’re right. I’ll go and clean up a bit down there. Maybe do some of the monthly orders. I - I just don’t think I’m ready to see people yet.”
I nodded my head in understanding.
It took her a while to gather her things, putting on extra weather clothes in order to combat the rain and grabbing her gathering basket. She gave Malcolm no less than five looks where I could tell she almost turned around. In the end, she didn’t get up the nerve and when the door gently clicked behind her, I turned my gaze towards Malcolm.
He looked up at me through his lashes. “Thank you.”
“You looked like you needed a break,” I told him. It was clear to anyone looking that Hazel was being overbearing. And Malcolm did not seem like the kind of man who did well with that.
“She means well,” Malcolm said, staring at the closed door as if he expected her to burst back in. “And I’m trying to have patience. It’s just going to take her a bit.”
“She missed you.”
“I missed her too.”
“How do you know?” My voice faltered after asking the question. I didn’t know this man enough to ask such things and with a voice that felt almost accusatory just on sheer principal. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t appropriate.”
“No. It’s fine. I was wandering the market for a while. I think I was successfully pulled back here early on. But then I just drifted. Lost. I couldn’t remember anything or anyone. Not until you went to Anemone. But I watched her sometimes. This girl that seemed so small. She almost looked like she did when we were little.”
The idea that he had been drawn to her without even knowing who she was, felt powerful somehow. It spoke of a bond between them that not even death could kill. “Who else did you watch?” I asked, wondering if he even remembered.
“Milo. Kamille. Few others you probably don’t know.” He paused briefly. “You. Though you were more recent.”
I felt myself a little taken aback, not sure that I liked the idea of being watched. Though, I suppose if his entire job before had been to protect me, he had probably been drawn to me without his knowledge. Muscle memory, in a sense. “And this isn’t weird for you?”
“I long ago erased the word weird from my vocabulary.” He shook out his hands, the fingers curled around the charcoal in a deep cramp. Dropping the pencil, he massaged out his hand, staring at his fingers. Muscle memory was not quite what it should have been then.
He laughed a little at himself, looking down at his work. “Can I confess something?” I gestured for him to go ahead. “I really need someone to make a move. Normally, I’m not the type of person who waits for the situation to come to me. But, well–” he motioned down to himself. He sat on the chair this morning, shirt off, the white bandages wrapped tightly around his middle. His steps were weak, his breaths were short when he walked too long, and he spent a good portion of his time breathing through pain or sleeping.
“Your hands are a bit tied,” I agreed.
“I know I’m of no help to you right now so anything coming our way isn’t exactly beneficial but–” head falling back he took a deep breath. “I’ve been dead for ten years. I don’t really want to be sitting here for much longer.”
[[How are you handling all that?]]
[[Is there anywhere Milo might be?]]
[[Maybe this is a blessing in disguise]]I knew she didn’t want to leave him. She had been scared to let him escape her sight ever since returning. But I could see it. The tightness that was forming around Malcolm’s eyes. The way worry never left her own. “Hey, Hazel? Did you want me to watch him for a bit?” I knew Malcolm could hear me but I kept my voice low. As if it were a conversation strictly between her and I. “You haven’t gotten out of the house for a while. Fresh air would do good. At least maybe tend the garden?” <<if $hazelro == "true">>For a moment, I thought she would protest, but as I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers within her own, she paused. “I’m worried about you running yourself ragged,” I told her gently. “Just take some time for yourself. Just a little bit. I don’t want to see you fall sick.”<</if>>
Hazel looked hesitant, her gaze wavering towards Malcolm’s and her lip caught between her teeth. “Are you sure $name? I know it’s been a lot for you for a few days now and I don’t want to overwhelm you.” <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">> It almost shocked me to hear her say it. She had been actively avoiding me since Caliban.<</if>>
“I’m good, Hazel. Just take some time, alright?” It was with my surprise that she slowly agreed. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Giving my hand one last squeeze, she popped up on her tip toes to brush her lips gently against mine. I savored the feel of her body against me. Warm curves and the barest scent of basil. I had missed her these last couple of days and made a mental note to hold her tonight. To fall asleep in her arms.<</if>>
It took her a while to gather her things, putting on extra weather clothes in order to combat the rain and grabbing her gathering basket. She gave Malcolm no less than five looks where I could tell she almost turned around. In the end, she didn’t get up the nerve and when the door gently clicked behind her, I turned my gaze towards Malcolm.
He looked up at me through his lashes. “Thank you.”
“You looked like you needed a break,” I told him. It was clear to anyone looking that Hazel was being overbearing. And Malcolm did not seem like the kind of man who did well with that.
“She means well,” Malcolm said, staring at the closed door as if he expected her to burst back in. “And I’m trying to have patience. It’s just going to take her a bit.”
“She missed you.”
“I missed her too.”
“How do you know?” My voice faltered after asking the question. I didn’t know this man enough to ask such things and with a voice that felt almost accusatory just on sheer principal. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t appropriate.”
“No. It’s fine. I was wandering the market for a while. I think I was successfully pulled back here early on. But then I just drifted. Lost. I couldn’t remember anything or anyone. Not until you went to Anemone. But I watched her sometimes. This girl that seemed so small. She almost looked like she did when we were little.”
The idea that he had been drawn to her without even knowing who she was, felt powerful somehow. It spoke of a bond between them that not even death could kill. “Who else did you watch?” I asked, wondering if he even remembered.
“Milo. Kamille. Few others you probably don’t know.” He paused briefly. “You. Though you were more recent.”
I felt myself a little taken aback, not sure that I liked the idea of being watched. Though, I suppose if his entire job before had been to protect me, he had probably been drawn to me without his knowledge. Muscle memory, in a sense. “And this isn’t weird for you?”
“I long ago erased the word weird from my vocabulary.” He shook out his hands, the fingers curled around the charcoal in a deep cramp. Dropping the pencil, he massaged out his hand, staring at his fingers. Muscle memory was not quite what it should have been then.
He laughed a little at himself, looking down at his work. “Can I confess something?” I gestured for him to go ahead. “I really need someone to make a move. Normally, I’m not the type of person who waits for the situation to come to me. But, well–” he motioned down to himself. He sat on the chair this morning, shirt off, the white bandages wrapped tightly around his middle. His steps were weak, his breaths were short when he walked too long, and he spent a good portion of his time breathing through pain or sleeping.
“Your hands are a bit tied,” I agreed.
“I know I’m of no help to you right now so anything coming our way isn’t exactly beneficial but–” head falling back he took a deep breath. “I’ve been dead for ten years. I don’t really want to be sitting here for much longer.”
[[How are you handling all that?]]
[[Is there anywhere Milo might be?]]
[[Maybe this is a blessing in disguise]]“How are you handing all this?” I asked. “I mean, you were dead for ten years and then you just came back to be thrust into the thick of everyone else's problems.”
He shrugged. “And you were dropped here with no memories and thrust into the thick of everyone else's problems.” He looked at his sketch with a discerning eye. “The way I see it, people should be checking on you far more than they have been.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I pointed out.
He smiled. Malcolm had a sly kind of smile. But it was never mocking. “I’m alright. Probably a bit in shock but we’ll deal with it all as it comes out. Which, I am hoping, is after we get the entire Milo situation on lock. Because I really don’t want to add another problem to the pile of problems that you guys are all hoarding. Seriously, you all need to learn to share.”
“You really aren’t concerned about this whole Night Market thing, are you. You just accept it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “Night Market. Cosmic entity. Some random stranger that happens to be important to the people I love? Why wouldn’t I just accept you?”
Leaning back in my seat, I glanced out the window, watching Hazel in the back garden for a moment. Billows was winding in and out of her legs while she picked fresh herbs from the overgrown patches. “I don’t know if they accept it.” <<if $hazelro == "true">> She was beautiful in the misty lights of the wisps. <<elseif $hazelbreakup == "true">> She was beautiful in the misty lights of the wisps. I missed her with a deep and longing ache.<</if>>
“They will. Might just take some time. I’ve always known the Night Market was sentient. They have only been able to speak of it conceptually until now.” Picking back up his pencil, Malcolm flexed his fingers and bent back over his sketchbook. I watched him fall into concentration again, the scratch of lead upon paper a welcomed sound in a room that had gone so long without it. Despite his weakness, I could see the defined muscles of his arms, flexing with the slightest movement. His tanned skin taking in the light around him for the first time. His pallor wasn’t as grey as when he had first returned. It had been as if death had still been clinging to him. As the days past, he looked as if he was finally living again and with each breath of life, the map of scars across his body became more and more bright, along with the dark lines of ink.
“You can ask,” he murmured.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to look.”
“Ask,” he said. “Besides, it’ll give us an opportunity to know each other as Malcolm and $name as opposed to Gatekeeper and Market.”
[[Ask about the tattoos]]
[[Ask about the scars]]
I felt that sentiment more than anything. The waiting was the hardest part of the last few days. The uneasy settling in my stomach that said something was clearly coming but we had no way to prepare for it. How did you prepare for something of this magnitude? And with each day Milo stayed away, the worse it was beginning to look. <<if $miloro == "true">> My faith in him was faltering. If he had truly cared. If this had been a misunderstanding. He would have been back by now. He would have taken my hand and grinned at me like he always did, curling around me tight at night.<</if>>
“Is there anywhere Milo might be?” I asked. He seemed to be the crux of all this. The lynch pin that would take us to our next destination.
“There are several places Milo might be,” Malcolm said. “Which is why I know he won’t be there. When Milo doesn’t want to be found, he makes it incredibly difficult.”
“How does one person just slip away so easily? We have a Baron and the Velvet Guard keeping their eyes and ears out for him and it's like he just doesn’t exist anymore.” It was a point of considerable frustration to Belladonna. The one woman in the Night Market that seemed to know more than anybody, had been fooled by a street kid with a crooked smile.
“Because he’s been planning this. Because he looks at these types of things from all angles. Milo had to survive on his own from a young age. He got good at disappearing when the heat was applied and he got good and detaching himself from any situation.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>I looked away at that. Detaching himself. That’s what Milo had done. He had taken me in his arms and then walked away from me without another thought. Malcolm caught the look on my face, his own features twisting into an apology.
“I’m sorry for what he’s done,” he whispered.
“Not your fault.”
“I know. But I’ve always felt a little responsible for Milo. This is no different.”<</if>>
Malcolm was an enigma, I was starting to learn. He had seemed unfazed by most of what was thrown at him and even the things he did not understand, he seemed far more concerned with helping solve, than with speculating or running away from them. I had heard his conversations with Hazel late into last night. The fact that they had let me walk into most of these Baron meetings alone was one that was greeted with tense silence. Things were going to change. How everything was conducted going forward was going to be different. It felt far more like my well-being was being shoved to the front, as opposed to the end goal of getting the Gatekeeper to speak with us.
“You really aren’t concerned about this whole Night Market thing, are you. You just accept it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “Night Market. Cosmic entity. Some random stranger that happens to be important to the people I love? Why wouldn’t I just accept you?”
Leaning back in my seat, I glanced out the window, watching Hazel in the back garden for a moment. Billows was winding in and out of her legs while she picked fresh herbs from the overgrown patches. “I don’t know if they accept it.” <<if $hazelro == "true">> She was beautiful in the misty lights of the wisps. <<elseif $hazelbreakup == "true">> She was beautiful in the misty lights of the wisps. I missed her with a deep and longing ache.<</if>>
“They will. Might just take some time. I’ve always known the Night Market was sentient. They have only been able to speak of it conceptually until now.” Picking back up his pencil, Malcolm flexed his fingers and bent back over his sketchbook. I watched him fall into concentration again, the scratch of lead upon paper a welcomed sound in a room that had gone so long without it. Despite his weakness, I could see the defined muscles of his arms, flexing with the slightest movement. His tanned skin taking in the light around him for the first time. His pallor wasn’t as grey as when he had first returned. It had been as if death had still been clinging to him. As the days past, he looked as if he was finally living again and with each breath of life, the map of scars across his body became more and more bright, along with the dark lines of ink.
“You can ask,” he murmured.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to look.”
“Ask,” he said. “Besides, it’ll give us an opportunity to know each other as Malcolm and $name as opposed to Gatekeeper and Market.”
[[Ask about the tattoos]]
[[Ask about the scars]]
“Maybe all this is a blessing for you,” I told him. Not being able to rush out into the world and pick up where he left off was forcing him time to pause and reflect. According to Hazel, if Malcolm even had an ounce of the ability needed to get up and tackle this problem, he wouldn’t be here. “Sounds like you’ve done your part, Malcolm.”
His head rolled to the side lazily. “I didn’t though. You’re still dying.”
He was the only one that would say it. The only one who seemed to have the courage to. So far, Malcolm was also the only one who I thought might have an actual idea of how to save me. While I didn’t discredit what everyone else was doing, I knew they still viewed me as separate. Not that I blamed them. But saving the Night Market and saving me were two different goals in their mind. And when chaos rolled in and the Barons began demanding things from us, it was clear that the persona of the Night Market took far more precedence than the persona of $name.
Rubbing a hand across my face, I tried my best not to think about it too thoroughly. Just like when I had first arrived here, until the idea settled, too much thought spent upon the topic would only drive me to madness.
Then there was Malcolm.
Malcolm was an enigma, I was starting to learn. He had seemed unfazed by most of what was thrown his way and even the things he did not understand, he seemed far more concerned with helping solve them, than speculation or running away from them. I had heard his conversation with Hazel late into last night. The fact that they had let me walk into most of these Baron meetings alone was one that was greeted with tense silence. Things were going to change. How everything was conducted going forward was going to be different. It felt far more like my well-being was being shoved to the front, as opposed to the end goal of getting the Gatekeeper to speak with us.
“You really aren’t concerned about this whole Night Market thing, are you. You just accept it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “Night Market. Cosmic entity. Some random stranger that happens to be important to the people I love? Why wouldn’t I just accept you?”
Leaning back in my seat, I glanced out the window, watching Hazel in the back garden for a moment. Billows was winding in and out of her legs while she picked fresh herbs from the overgrown patches. “I don’t know if they accept it.” <<if $hazelro == "true">> She was beautiful in the misty lights of the wisps. <<elseif $hazelbreakup == "true">> She was beautiful in the misty lights of the wisps. I missed her with a deep and longing ache.<</if>>
“They will. Might just take some time. I’ve always known the Night Market was sentient. They have only been able to speak of it conceptually until now.” Picking back up his pencil, Malcolm flexed his fingers and bent back over his sketchbook. I watched him fall into concentration again, the scratch of lead upon paper a welcomed sound in a room that had gone so long without it. Despite his weakness, I could see the defined muscles of his arms, flexing with the slightest movement. His tanned skin taking in the light around him for the first time. His pallor wasn’t as grey as when he had first returned. It had been as if death had still been clinging to him. As the days past, he looked as if he was finally living again and with each breath of life, the map of scars across his body became more and more bright, along with the dark lines of ink.
“You can ask,” he murmured.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to look.”
“Ask,” he said. “Besides, it’ll give us an opportunity to know each other as Malcolm and $name as opposed to Gatekeeper and Market.”
[[Ask about the tattoos]]
[[Ask about the scars]]
“You have a lot of tattoos.” An old style compass sat just below his clavicle, a North star pointing up towards his shoulder. Down, peeking out from his bandages, were the black lines of an equality sign, little bits of floral impressing around it. I knew there was more hidden beneath his wraps, some of which had been distorted by the bruising as his body rebelled with the life that was pressed back within him.
“I do,” he agreed. “Some of them have meaning. Others are just because I wanted them.”
“Why the compass?” I asked. It was the only one I could see fully. The one that was on his bicep was intersected with a sort of muscle tape that Hazel had patched him with. Soaking the bandages in ginseng oil first.
He snorted in laughter. “So I can always find my way home. Ironic, right?”
“A little. When did you get it?”
He thought for a moment, going back over it in his memory. “When I was late teens? You know, that time when you think you’re an adult and then as an adult you realize you were so very much a child still.” He laughed at the thought of it and I wondered how different he had been during that time. “I had just gotten my own place. With my own money. I wanted to commemorate it.”
“Isn’t having your own place kind of the commemoration?”
He ticked his gaze up towards me with a soft smile. “Thought I was an adult, remember? I was being edgy and making weighty decisions.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “I’m glad coming back to life doesn’t mean I have to live through my youth again. That would be a nightmare.”
I settled down a little. Malcolm had a nice smile. It was a far easier one. His voice was soft as well, not demanding attention but gaining it by his simple existence. As of yet, it had not been hard to get to know him. The persona that everyone else had crafted around him was chipping away into something far more real the more time I spent with him.
“You said you were a bad person once? What do you mean?”
“I was an angry person,” he clarified. “I don’t know if I actually believe in good and bad. I think we need the both to exist together. But I can say I was angry once. Angry at the life I was given. Angry at the world at hand. And I took that anger, and inflicted it on others. Far too many, I am ashamed to say.”
I shifted in my seat. I thought about Milo. The small little boy he had been and the way he had cried out beneath his father's hand. “What changed?”
Malcolm lifted his head to look at me. “I didn’t like me,” he said simply. “So, I knew I had a choice. I could choose the easy path and continue to hate myself, which in part would hurt others. Or, I could get up and do better. I don’t know if I really succeeded but I tried.”
Tried.
It was an interesting word that was starting to register different to me as the days went on. I was trying. I wasn’t sitting back and letting the world demand what it would from me. I was trying and how that looked changed with each new bit of information I was getting. We were all flawed. The Night Market included. But, we were going to try.
It was why I was still here.
I fell into a hushed silence with him then, just watching him work. When he was finished, he turned it around. I stared at the piece. It was me in perfect likeness, charcoal stained and looking longingly out at the rain.
[[You are far too good of an artist to be a bad person]]
[[Is that how you see me?]]
[[Drawing people is sometimes creepy]]
“You have a lot of scars.” They riddled his body, crossing across his chest and peeking out from beneath the bandages around his torso. They cut through the lines of ink he had pressed into himself and were now faint white lines that traced his skin.
“I wasn’t always a good person,” he said. “Some of them are from that. Others from an old life.” He had two identical half moon scars on his chest, a tattoo bisecting one.
“Which ones are those from?”
Without lifting his eyes, he tipped his head to the side, observing what he was drawing. “My breasts and I got into a fight and I won.”
[[That is one way to put it]]
[[What’d you end up doing with them]]
My brows shot upwards as I registered what he was saying. It wasn’t the subject that caught me off guard so much as it was the way he presented it. My expression was amusing him, however, and I could tell he was judging my reaction, deciding whether or not I was safe.
“Well,” I started, “that is certainly one way to put it.”
“I like keeping people on their toes,” he said blandly, though I could see the smile tugging at his lips. <<if $miloro == "true">>It reminded me too much of Milo. Some of the things Malcolm said, his mannerisms. They spoke of the man with the crooked smile who had danced in the rain with me.<</if>>
I settled down a little. Malcolm had a nice smile. It was a far easier one. His voice was soft as well, not demanding attention but gaining it by his simple existence. As of yet, it had not been hard to get to know him. The persona that everyone else had crafted around him was chipping away into something far more real the more time I spent with him.
“You said you were a bad person once? What do you mean?”
“I was an angry person,” he clarified. “I don’t know if I actually believe in good and bad. I think we need the both to exist together. But I can say I was angry once. Angry at the life I was given. Angry at the world at hand. And I took that anger, and inflicted it on others. Far too many, I am ashamed to say.”
I shifted in my seat. I thought about Milo. The small little boy he had been and the way he had cried out beneath his father's hand. “What changed?”
Malcolm lifted his head to look at me. “I didn’t like me,” he said simply. “So, I knew I had a choice. I could choose the easy path and continue to hate myself, which in part would hurt others. Or, I could get up and do better. I don’t know if I really succeeded but I tried.”
Tried.
It was an interesting word that was starting to register different to me as the days went on. I was trying. I wasn’t sitting back and letting the world demand what it would from me. I was trying and how that looked changed with each new bit of information I was getting. We were all flawed. The Night Market included. But, we were going to try.
It was why I was still here.
I fell into a hushed silence with him then, just watching him work. When he was finished, he turned it around. I stared at the piece. It was me in perfect likeness, charcoal stained and looking longingly out at the rain.
[[You are far too good of an artist to be a bad person]]
[[Is that how you see me?]]
[[Drawing people is sometimes creepy]]
“What’d you end up doing with them after you won?” I asked, holding in my laughter.
“Burned them.”
“You did not.” I could see the grin that was forming, his scars proudly on display and him at ease with their presence.
“No,” he agreed. “I put them in a jar though. Hazel has them somewhere.”
I stared at him for a long moment, thinking of the types of things I knew Hazel kept hidden away in the cellar. “I don’t know what that says about me that I really don’t know if that’s out of the realm of possibility.”
Malcolm smirked. “That says more about my sister than you. Don’t worry.”
I settled down a little. Malcolm had a nice smile. It was a far easier one. His voice was soft as well, not demanding attention but gaining it by his simple existence. As of yet, it had not been hard to get to know him. The persona that everyone else had crafted around him was chipping away into something far more real the more time I spent with him.
“You said you were a bad person once? What do you mean?”
“I was an angry person,” he clarified. “I don’t know if I actually believe in good and bad. I think we need the both to exist together. But I can say I was angry once. Angry at the life I was given. Angry at the world at hand. And I took that anger, and inflicted it on others. Far too many, I am ashamed to say.”
I shifted in my seat. I thought about Milo. The small little boy he had been and the way he had cried out beneath his father's hand. “What changed?”
Malcolm lifted his head to look at me. “I didn’t like me,” he said simply. “So, I knew I had a choice. I could choose the easy path and continue to hate myself, which in part would hurt others. Or, I could get up and do better. I don’t know if I really succeeded but I tried.”
Tried.
It was an interesting word that was starting to register different to me as the days went on. I was trying. I wasn’t sitting back and letting the world demand what it would from me. I was trying and how that looked changed with each new bit of information I was getting. We were all flawed. The Night Market included. But, we were going to try.
It was why I was still here.
I fell into a hushed silence with him then, just watching him work. When he was finished, he turned it around. I stared at the piece. It was me in perfect likeness, charcoal stained and looking longingly out at the rain.
[[You are far too good of an artist to be a bad person]]
[[Is that how you see me?]]
[[Drawing people is sometimes creepy]]
“You are far too good of an artist to be a bad person,” I stated, staring at the picture in absolute shock.
“Oh,” he hissed. “Don’t use that word. Artist. Makes me feel like some sort of imposter.” This was the old Gatekeeper of the market, someone who had died and come back to life, and art made him have imposter syndrome. I shook my head.
It was then though, that it hit me. We were still waiting. We were passing time right now. And while I enjoyed the conversation I was having, it all felt like filler. Everything that poured into the passage of time we were now sitting within, was unimportant as long as the looming thought of what was to come, still lingered.
“We need to find him,” I said softly. There was no doing anything until we did. We were simply in a waiting game which given that my life was the one on the line, I wasn’t really interested in waiting for long.
Malcolm set the sketchbook aside. I could tell he was growing tired again, close to closing his eyes for another long afternoon. But I could see it, just like I could feel it. Face the problem, he had said. Don’t wait for it to come to you.
“How far do you want to go?” he asked seriously.
[[He owes us answers]]
[[I just want to make sure he knows I’m not mad]]
[[My life is on the line. I’ll go as far as I need to]]
“Is that how you see me?” I asked delicately. I almost didn’t recognize the person he had drawn. The contemplation on their face. The sadness. The strength. It was all there. And Malcolm had just drawn it from a brief observation this morning.
“I think it’s easier to see the reality of the situation when you aren’t living it,” he said with a shrug. Yet, Malcolm was living it. Within one day he was already in the thick of it. Or maybe, he was the one who had started it all and we had been the ones playing catch up.
It was then though, that it hit me. We were still waiting. We were passing time right now. And while I enjoyed the conversation I was having, it all felt like filler. Everything that poured into the passage of time we were now sitting within, was unimportant as long as the looming thought of what was to come, still lingered.
“We need to find him,” I said softly. There was no doing anything until we did. We were simply in a waiting game which given that my life was the one on the line, I wasn’t really interested in waiting for long.
Malcolm set the sketchbook aside. I could tell he was growing tired again, close to closing his eyes for another long afternoon. But I could see it, just like I could feel it. Face the problem, he had said. Don’t wait for it to come to you.
“How far do you want to go?” he asked seriously.
[[He owes us answers]]
[[I just want to make sure he knows I’m not mad]]
[[My life is on the line. I’ll go as far as I need to]]
“Drawing people is creepy,” I told him dryly.
He laughed. “Milo used to say the same thing.”
Milo. It hit again. Milo.
“We need to find him,” I said softly. There was no doing anything until we did. We were simply in a waiting game which given that my life was the one on the line, I wasn’t really interested in waiting for long.
Malcolm set the sketchbook aside. I could tell he was growing tired again, close to closing his eyes for another long afternoon. But I could see it, just like I could feel it. Face the problem, he had said. Don’t wait for it to come to you.
“How far do you want to go?” he asked seriously.
[[He owes us answers]]
[[I just want to make sure he knows I’m not mad]]
[[My life is on the line. I’ll go as far as I need to]]
“He owes us answers,” I said firmly. I didn’t want to think about what this meant for Milo in the future. <<if $miloro == "true">> For Milo and I.<</if>> All I wanted was to know why. Why did he not tell us? Why did he run? <<if $miloro == "true">>Why did he pretend to care?<</if>>
I knew it then. I knew it with certainty. Malcolm knew where he was. He had a suspicion that was unwavering but we had to be ready because this was not going to be easy.
“Where is he?”
“This market has been searched top to bottom and yet no one has seen hide or hair of a man that lives within these streets more than anywhere else,” Malcolm pointed out. “If he’s not wandering the market, there’s only one place I think he might be.”
I glanced at him. “You up for a walk?”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 2]]
“I just– I want to make sure he knows I’m not mad.” I didn’t know why Milo did what he did. Why he wasn’t here now explaining it all to us. But I didn’t want him to stay away because he thought I wouldn’t understand. Ultimately, I just wanted to know //why//. <<if $miloro == "true">>I wanted to hold him and tell him we would figure this out together. That I wasn’t going anywhere.<</if>>
I knew it then. I knew it with certainty. Malcolm knew where he was. He had a suspicion that was unwavering but we had to be ready because this was not going to be easy.
“Where is he?”
“This market has been searched top to bottom and yet no one has seen hide or hair of a man that lives within these streets more than anywhere else,” Malcolm pointed out. “If he’s not wandering the market, there’s only one place I think he might be.”
I glanced at him. “You up for a walk?”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 2]]
“My life is on the line. I’ll go as far as I need to.”
“Good,” he said. “If you give Milo an inch, he’s going to run. He’s written us off here. You need to make sure he can’t do that. Be in his face. Don’t let him fool you. He’s shown his hand. There is no going back. Don’t. Let him. Win.”
I knew it then. I knew it with certainty. Malcolm knew where he was. He had a suspicion that was unwavering but we had to be ready because this was not going to be easy.
“Where is he?”
“This market has been searched top to bottom and yet no one has seen hide or hair of a man that lives within these streets more than anywhere else,” Malcolm pointed out. “If he’s not wandering the market, there’s only one place I think he might be.”
I glanced at him. “You up for a walk?”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 2]]
The door was beneath a stone bridge. Bits of earthen debris had stuck to the damp slate, the spray from the creek splashing upon it. I knew this door. I had seen it a few times before. I knew its roots and the way the stairs beyond curved downwards into a home. Moss had enclosed it when Malcolm had died, shutting it away until its owner returned home. But the moss was broken now, the door having been disturbed. <<if $beginningroute == "tunnels">> A door that I had walked past my first day within the Night Market. Milo had led me right through here. I knew if we kept traveling, we would reach the Spice District.<</if>>
I let Malcolm go first, pushing against the small indent of his old home and opening up the passage that wound downwards. Slowly, we made our way down the stone steps, bracing our hands upon the walls to keep from slipping on the slick surface. The wood door that faced us was closed but a small flickering paper lantern stood just off to the side, lighting our way.
Slowly, Malcolm turned the knob, letting us both into the underground room.
Sunlight poured in off large floor to ceiling enchanted windows. It sent warm shafts of buttery light across maple wood floors. Cedar beams stretched upwards, separating the kitchen from the living room and scenting the room with something earthy. Despite its occupant not having been home for over a decade now, the place looked bright and clean. Throw blankets were tossed across the back of the sofa and an old leather brown chair and signs of life littered the coffee table and credenza tucked in the corner.
It was clear, Malcolm had not been the last person here.
Empty coffee mugs and plates sat on the kitchen island, the remnants of breakfast still left out. “Oh good,” Malcolm said. “He’s still a slob.”
I walked further into the room, spotting Milo’s shoes, a pair of his suspenders, and a pack of cigarettes on the table. Between the cedar pillars stood the entrance to a bedroom, the blankets pulled back and messy, a few stray socks on the floor.
“He’s been living here the entire time,” I said with certainty. It was out of the way. Forgotten. The Velvet Guard would have never thought to come down here. It was connected to an entire tunneling system. Milo could virtually go anywhere, completely undetected.
Malcolm sighed. “He knew we were coming.”
Turning, I saw him hold out a piece of paper to me. My name was scratched across the envelope. Silently, I took it from him.
//You are formally invited to a ball at Taliesin Hynsin’s estate. Black tie attire. Masks optional. Wear your dancing shoes.//
“Taliesin Hynsin is the only Baron I didn’t see,” I told Malcolm. He wasn’t listening though. Instead, he was staring at the back of the invitation, his eyes trained on words that he could only spy through the cracks of my fingers.
Turning the invitation over, I felt my stomach drop.
//$name
We have a lot to say to each other
Meet me on the balcony//
<<if $miloro == "true">>A small key was taped to the back of the card. It was no bigger than my palm wih an azure line melted into the bronze. It was one of the ones from his belt. The kind that had jangled against his hip from the day I met him. The irony of the gift was not lost on me.
"Great," I said, holding the key and sliding it into my pockt. "Just great."<</if>>
Lifting my gaze, I locked eyes with Malcolm. A formal ball and an invitation by the one man who had been hiding since the day I found out who he actually was.
[[Did you know he was here the entire time?]]
[[I’m not going. He can come to us]]
[[So this is it then]]
<<set $key to "true">>
The evening of the ball arrived before I could blink. It came on a cold and clear evening where the lanterns were frosted with a deep chill. I had stared at them, looking at the frosted color, wondering if I could change them somehow. But they remained stagnant. A gentle reminder of how much I had yet to learn.
Standing in my room, I stared at myself in the mirror. My face looked drawn, shadows playing across my $eyecolor eyes with deep bruises smudged beneath. Hazel had given me a cream to hide them and had assured me they worked. But I could still see them. I could see the toll that this had all had upon me and the way my body readied itself in preparation for the night ahead.
Looking down at myself, I swallowed. I had gone to the garment district, knowing I needed something far more appropriate than what I had had in my closet.
[[I chose a dress]]
[[I chose a suit and tie]]
<<set $formalattire to "true">>
<<set $gembaron to "true">><<set $balldress to "true">>
[[A ballgown|Dress][$dress to "ballgown"]]
[[A cocktail dress|Dress][$dress to "cocktail"]]
[[A corset dress with flowing skirt|Dress][$dress to "corset"]]
[[A Belladonna inspired dress|Dress][$dress to "The Bella Special"]]<<set $formal to "suit">>
[[A traditional suit and tie|Suit][$suit to "traditional"]]
[[A suit with an unbuttoned jacket and no tie|Suit][$suit to "casual"]]
[[A tuxedo|Suit][$suit to "tuxedo"]]
[[A Belladonna inspired suit|Suit][$suit to "The Bella Special"]]<<if $dress == "ballgown">>I chose a ballgown for the evening. Something with a full skirt that lightly brushed the floor. The idea was to have it spinning across the room if I ended up dancing. To catch the light from above. Though I didn’t know how I was supposed to dance on a night like this. The circumstances felt far too dire for such frivolity.
Staring at myself for another moment, I smoothed down the layers of my skirt, breathing in softly and trying to convince myself to leave the room. The mounting moments that lead to the point had my gut tightening with apprehension and putting on the layers of clothing did nothing to help me feel any more protected.
<<elseif $dress == "cocktail">>I chose a cocktail dress for the evening. Something that hugged my curves. Made from fabric that shifted beneath the dim light of a candle. It provided me with easy movement, both for dancing or for polite conversation. Though I didn’t know how I was supposed to dance on a night like this. The circumstances felt far too dire for such frivolity.
Staring at myself for another moment, I smoothed down the silken fabric of my dress, breathing in softly and trying to convince myself to leave the room. The mounting moments that lead to the point had my gut tightening with apprehension and putting on the layers of clothing did nothing to help me feel any more protected.
<<elseif $dress == "corset">>I chose a corset dress for the evening. Something with a flowing skirt but a cinched in waist. It felt like armor in a way. An extra layer of protection that could wrap around me as I danced across the room. Though I didn’t know how I was supposed to dance on a night like this. The circumstances felt far too dire for such frivolity.
Staring at myself for another moment, I smoothed down the layers of my skirt, breathing in softly and trying to convince myself to leave the room. The mounting moments that lead to the point had my gut tightening with apprehension and putting on the layers of clothing did nothing to help me feel any more protected.
<<elseif $dress == "The Bella Special">> I had not chosen my dress for the night. I had let Belladonna do it. And what she picked was made to draw the gaze of an audience. It was form fitting and hit all the right places, a large slit up one side that came up mid-hip. With the plunging neckline she had paired a small pendant, a small orb that reflected the lanterns outside. A subtle hint to everyone who they were dealing with. And a blatant acknowledgement to Milo that his game was up. It was my turn now.
Running my hands over the thin material of my dress, I shook my head. There were bands and ties that kept me in and I didn’t know how the hell Belladonna wore anything like this on a regular basis. Hazel had helped strap me all together and left the room blushing like mad.<</if>>
When the knock sounded lightly on the door, I turned. I had been left alone for a while now, giving me time to breathe through any of my nerves. <<if $belladonnaro == "true">>I was attending the ball with Belladonna. There was a slight comfort knowing she would be by my side along with the fact that Gabriel would be attending as well. Hazel was still on the fence on whether or not she would leave the apothecary and Malcolm. I wondered if her hesitancy had more to do with not being able to hide the hurt Milo had inflicted. <<elseif $miloro == "true">>I was attending the ball alone. I knew that Gabriel and Bella would be there. Hazel was on the fence on whether or not she could handle a room of that size. I knew it more had to do with the fact that she didn’t think she could hide the hurt that Milo had inflicted. The fact that I had no one on my arm but was intending to walk towards the balcony, towards a man that had fooled me for months, left little room on my dance card. <<elseif $platonic == "true">>I was attending the ball alone. I knew that Gabriel and Bella would be there. Hazel was on the fence on whether or not she could handle a room of that size. I knew it more had to do with the fact that she didn’t think she could hide the hurt that Milo had inflicted. <<elseif $gabrielro == "true">> I was attending the ball with Gabriel. There was a slight comfort knowing he would be by my side along with the fact that Belladonna would be attending as well. Hazel was still on the fence on whether or not she would leave the apothecary and Malcolm. I wondered if her hesitancy had more to do with not being able to hide the hurt Milo had inflicted. <</if>>
“Come in,” I called.
<<if $miloro == "true">>The door opened softly as Malcolm ducked inside. He looked a bit better with more color to his face, but he would not be attending the ball. He still struggled to make it around the garden without getting winded.
He let out a low whistle. "You look a far cry from the dirty individual who fell from a tear in the sky."
[[I feel nervous]]
[[I am ready for whatever is to come]]
[[Please tell me you have changed your mind and you are coming to the ball]]
<<elseif $platonic == "true">>The door opened softly as Malcolm ducked inside. He looked a bit better with more color to his face, but he would not be attending the ball. He still struggled to make it around the garden without getting winded.
He let out a low whistle. "You look a far cry from the dirty individual who fell from a tear in the sky."
[[I feel nervous]]
[[I am ready for whatever is to come]]
[[Please tell me you have changed your mind and you are coming to the ball]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>
The door opened and Belladonna came sweeping in like a whirlwind of silk, lace and straps that looked as if they were barely holding her in. She was dressed in crimson tonight, her hair piled high off her neck. With one hand on her hip, she looked me up at down, appraising what I was wearing. “Oh, I will have to demand that you start dressing better. No more of those dirty shop clothes. This is how I wish to see you from now on.”
“That's a bit impractical, isn’t it?”
“Why? I do it daily?” Belladonna was rarely without her finery. I knew she was the wrong person to talk to about this. Instead, I looked back at myself in the mirror, staring at the individual staring back at me.
[[I’m nervous|B I’m nervous]]
[[I’m ready for whatever is about to happen tonight|B I’m ready]]
[[Thank you for coming with me, Bella]]
<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>Turning, I watched as the door opened, Gabriel entering the room. He was dressed in a suit of black, a blue silk shirt lying beneath his jacket. When he laid eyes on me, I watched those grey orbs sweep hungrily up and down my form.
[[Next|Next Chapter Twelve Gabriel]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">> The door opened and Hazel peeked her head inside. “Hi,” she whispered.
[[Next|Hazel before the ball]]
<</if>>
<<if $suit == "traditional">>I chose a traditional suit and tie for the evening, the jacket buttoning smartly across me with three black gem fastenings. The invitation had said formal wear and I knew that I wanted something classic. Something I could see myself dancing in. Though I didn’t know how I was supposed to dance on a night like this. The circumstances felt far too dire for such frivolity.
Staring at myself for another moment, I buttoned my jacket, breathing in softly and trying to convince myself to leave the room. The mounting moments that lead to the point had my gut tightening with apprehension and putting on the layers of clothing did nothing to help me feel any more protected.
<<elseif $suit == "casual">>I chose a casual suit for the evening, leaving the jacket unbuttoned to show the shirt and tie beneath. The invitation had said formal wear and I knew that I wanted something that would still be easy to move in. Something I could see myself dancing in. Though I didn’t know how I was supposed to dance on a night like this. The circumstances felt far too dire for such frivolity.
Staring at myself for another moment, I fiddled with my cufflinks, breathing in softly and trying to convince myself to leave the room. The mounting moments that lead to the point had my gut tightening with apprehension and putting on the layers of clothing did nothing to help me feel any more protected.
<<elseif $suit == "tuxedo">>I chose a tuxedo for the evening with diamond cufflinks and a necktie that lay loose around my shoulders for now. The invitation had said formal wear and I knew that I wanted something classic. Something I could see myself dancing in and perhaps drawing an eye. Though I didn’t know how I was supposed to dance on a night like this. The circumstances felt far too dire for such frivolity.
Staring at myself for another moment, I buttoned my jacket, breathing in softly and trying to convince myself to leave the room. The mounting moments that lead to the point had my gut tightening with apprehension and putting on the layers of clothing did nothing to help me feel any more protected.
<<elseif $suit == "The Bella Special">> I had given Belladonna free reign to dress me tonight and she did not disappoint. She put me in a tight fitting suit where the pants hugged the muscles of my calf. Leaving the jacket open, she had refused to give me a shirt for beneath, instead adorning my chest with carefully placed chains and a pendant that reflected the lamplight outside.
It was a statement. She wanted everyone to know I was not a person to be messed with. That I had the backing of a Baron.<</if>>
When the knock sounded lightly on the door, I turned. I had been left alone for a while now, giving me time to breathe through any of my nerves. <<if $miloro == "true">>I was attending the ball alone. I knew that Gabriel and Bella would be there. Hazel was on the fence on whether or not she could handle a room of that size. I knew it more had to do with the fact that she didn’t think she could hide the hurt that Milo had inflicted. The fact that I had no one on my arm but was intending to walk towards the balcony, towards a man that had fooled me for months, left little room on my dance card. <<elseif $platonic == "true">>I was attending the ball alone. I knew that Gabriel and Bella would be there. Hazel was on the fence on whether or not she could handle a room of that size. I knew it more had to do with the fact that she didn’t think she could hide the hurt that Milo had inflicted. <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>I was attending the ball with Belladonna. There was a slight comfort knowing she would be by my side along with the fact that Gabriel would be attending as well. Hazel was still on the fence on whether or not she would leave the apothecary and Malcolm. I wondered if her hesitancy had more to do with not being able to hide the hurt Milo had inflicted. <<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>I was attending the ball with Gabriel. There was a slight comfort knowing he would be by my side along with the fact that Belladonna would be attending as well. Hazel was still on the fence on whether or not she would leave the apothecary and Malcolm. I wondered if her hesitancy had more to do with not being able to hide the hurt Milo had inflicted. <</if>>
“Come in,” I called.
<<if $miloro == "true">>The door opened softly as Malcolm ducked inside. He looked a bit better with more color to his face, but he would not be attending the ball. He still struggled to make it around the garden without getting winded.
He let out a low whistle. "You look a far cry from the dirty individual who fell from a tear in the sky."
[[I feel nervous]]
[[I am ready for whatever is to come]]
[[Please tell me you have changed your mind and you are coming to the ball]]
<<elseif $platonic == "true">>The door opened softly as Malcolm ducked inside. He looked a bit better with more color to his face, but he would not be attending the ball. He still struggled to make it around the garden without getting winded.
He let out a low whistle. "You look a far cry from the dirty individual who fell from a tear in the sky."
[[I feel nervous]]
[[I am ready for whatever is to come]]
[[Please tell me you have changed your mind and you are coming to the ball]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>
The door opened and Belladonna came sweeping in like a whirlwind of silk, lace and straps that looked as if it was barely holding her in. She was dressed in crimson tonight, her hair piled high off her neck. With one hand on her hip, she looked me up at down, appraising what I was wearing. “Oh, I will have to demand that you start dressing better. No more of those dirty shop clothes. This is how I wish to see you from now on.”
“That's a bit impractical, isn’t it?”
“Why? I do it daily?” Belladonna was rarely without her finery. I knew she was the wrong person to talk to about this. Instead, I looked back at myself in the mirror, staring at the individual staring back at me.
[[I’m nervous|B I’m nervous]]
[[I’m ready for whatever is about to happen tonight|B I’m ready]]
[[Thank you for coming with me, Bella]]
<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>Turning, I watched as the door opened, Gabriel entering the room. He was dressed in a suit of black, a blue silk shirt lying beneath his jacket. When he laid eyes on me, I watched those grey orbs sweep hungrily up and down my form.
[[Next|Next Chapter Twelve Gabriel]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">> The door opened and Hazel peeked her head inside. “Hi,” she whispered.
[[Next|Hazel before the ball]]
<</if>>
<<set $ballsuit to "true">>I turned towards him. “I feel nervous,” I said. It was with a wracking sense of anticipation that this night had dawned. I didn’t know what to expect or what I was supposed to be doing at this ball. Milo had asked me to meet him on the balcony but why there? Why not just come to the apothecary. Unlike him, I had not been trying to hide.
“I know you’re nervous,” Malcolm said. “And believe me, I’m kicking myself that I can’t come with you. There are a few things I would like to say to Milo myself.”
Coming over, he stood by the full length mirror, smiling gently at me. We both knew the question that was coming.
“What am I even supposed to say to him?” I asked. I had been thinking about it since receiving the invitation. The invitation that he had left out for me, in the place he had been squatting.
“What do you want to say to him?”
[[How fucking dare you]]
[[Why didn’t you tell me]]
<<if $miloro == "true">> [[Was it all a lie?]]<</if>>
I turned towards him. “I’m ready for whatever is to come, I guess.”
“Drop the ‘I guess’ and I’ll believe you.”
“I’m ready for whatever is to come,” I repeated. And I believed it. Tonight was going to be mine. For the first time, I felt ready to take control of the moment at hand. For things to go my way.
Coming over to stand by the mirror, Malcolm leaned against the wall casually, a brow raised. We both knew the question that was coming.
“What am I even supposed to say to him?” I asked. I had been thinking about it since receiving the invitation. The invitation that he had left out for me, in the place he had been squatting.
“What do you want to say to him?”
[[How fucking dare you]]
[[Why didn’t you tell me]]
<<if $miloro == "true">> [[Was it all a lie?]]<</if>>
I turned towards him. “Please tell me you have changed your mind and you are coming to the ball,” I practically begged. I didn’t want to walk in alone. I didn’t want to face the last Baron or this night by myself.
<<if $miloro == "true">>I didn’t want to face Milo alone.<</if>>
Coming over, he stood by the full length mirror, smiling gently at me. “Now, as much as I would love to watch Button squirm, I think the fact that you would have to wheel me in might not have the desired affect you are looking for.”
It had been a lengthy conversation on whether it would be beneficial to have Malcolm at the ball. But in the end, he admitted himself to be a liability. The only reason anyone was even entertaining the notion of me going in the first place was because Belladonna had secured invitations for all of us. I would not be entering this alone.
“What am I even supposed to say to him?” I asked. I had been thinking about it since receiving the invitation. The invitation that he had left out for me, in the place he had been squatting.
“What do you want to say to him?”
[[How fucking dare you]]
[[Why didn’t you tell me]]
<<if $miloro == "true">> [[Was it all a lie?]]<</if>>
I’m nervous,” I confessed. There was so much leading up to this moment. So many lies and so much confusion. It had sent my head spinning and I was no longer certain what I was supposed to believe. All I knew was that Milo had the upper hand. We were meeting with him on his terms. It didn’t leave me feeling confident.
“You just say the word and I will tear Milo Next apart,” she said with a thin smile. Walking up to me, she placed her hands on my shoulders. <<if $dress == "bella">> “Not before he sees you of course. This entire outfit is a power move. You should certainly have been dressing like this for each Baron. We’ll have to revamp your wardrobe entirely now.”<</if>> I could feel the newly minted Baron ring press into my skin. It was made of a delicate black band with a single ruby carved in the middle.
Reaching up, I placed my hand against hers, feeling the lacquered nails that dug slightly into my skin. “What do you think is going to happen tonight?”
“Milo will become repetitive and beg on his knees for forgiveness for whatever stupid thing he has done.” I locked eyes with her through the mirror. “Or, more likely, he’ll be a stubborn specimen of a man and stand by his convictions.”
“And if they are good convictions?”
“I would say that’s a question worth entertaining if it were not Milo Next we were speaking of. I do not believe there to be much intelligence behind his eyes.” But I saw it. I saw the glint. The one that she got when she was worried she was wrong. Something about Milo was concerning her. Just slightly.
[[I’m sure everything will be fine]]
[[What do you know?]]
[[Maybe I shouldn’t go]]“I’m ready for whatever is about to happen tonight,” I told her. It was funny. The lead up to this moment had felt somewhat filled with dread. But now that I was here, I felt remarkably calm. I couldn’t control what Milo was about to do or say, but I could get the answers I needed. No more dancing around the subject. No more lies. Just the Gatekeeper addressing the market.
“Walk in there with confidence and do not let something like that street urchin sway you,” she said firmly.
“You just say the word and I will tear Milo Next apart,” she said with a thin smile. Walking up to me, she placed her hands on my shoulders. <<if $dress == "bella">> “Not before he sees you of course. This entire outfit is a power move. You should certainly have been dressing like this for each Baron. We’ll have to revamp your wardrobe entirely now.”<</if>> I could feel the newly minted Baron ring press into my skin. It was made of a delicate black band with a single ruby carved in the middle.
Reaching up, I placed my hand against hers, feeling the lacquered nails that dug slightly into my skin. “What do you think is going to happen tonight?”
“Milo will become repetitive and beg on his knees for forgiveness for whatever stupid thing he has done.” I locked eyes with her through the mirror. “Or, more likely, he’ll be a stubborn specimen of a man and stand by his convictions.”
“And if they are good convictions?”
“I would say that’s a question worth entertaining if it were not Milo Next we were speaking of. I do not believe there to be much intelligence behind his eyes.” But I saw it. I saw the glint. The one that she got when she was worried she was wrong. Something about Milo was concerning her. Just slightly.
[[I’m sure everything will be fine]]
[[What do you know?]]
[[Maybe I shouldn’t go]]“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” I told her. I didn’t want to walk in there alone. I had to face Milo. The game that he was playing would be done with tonight. But I wanted someone to retreat to when the time came. More than anything, if this all went to pieces, I wanted someone there competent enough to help pick them up again.
“You just say the word and I will tear Milo Next apart,” she said with a thin smile. Walking up to me, she placed her hands on my shoulders. <<if $dress == "bella">> “Not before he sees you of course. This entire outfit is a power move. You should certainly have been dressing like this for each Baron. We’ll have to revamp your wardrobe entirely now.”<</if>> I could feel the newly minted Baron ring press into my skin. It was made of a delicate black band with a single ruby carved in the middle.
Reaching up, I placed my hand against hers, feeling the lacquered nails that dug slightly into my skin. “What do you think is going to happen tonight?”
“Milo will become repetitive and beg on his knees for forgiveness for whatever stupid thing he has done.” I locked eyes with her through the mirror. “Or, more likely, he’ll be a stubborn specimen of a man and stand by his convictions.”
“And if they are good convictions?”
“I would say that’s a question worth entertaining if it were not Milo Next we were speaking of. I do not believe there to be much intelligence behind his eyes.” But I saw it. I saw the glint. The one that she got when she was worried she was wrong. Something about Milo was concerning her. Just slightly.
[[I’m sure everything will be fine]]
[[What do you know?]]
[[Maybe I shouldn’t go]]<<if $dress == "cocktail">> "Zip me up? I asked with a soft smile.
Closing the door behind him, he came up behind me, zipping me up efficiently. His fingers lingers however, thumb rubbing across the bump of my spine. <<elseif $dress == "ballgown">> "Zip me up? I asked with a soft smile.
Closing the door behind him, he came up behind me, zipping me up efficiently. His fingers lingers however, thumb rubbing across the bump of my spine. <<elseif $dress == "bella">>"Zip me up? I asked with a soft smile.
Closing the door behind him, he came up behind me, zipping me up efficiently. His fingers lingers however, thumb rubbing across the bump of my spine. <<elseif $dress == "corset">>“Lace me up?” I asked with a soft smile.
Closing the door behind him, he came up behind me, threading the satin ribbons through the eye of each hook.<<elseif $formal == "suit">> “Does this look right?” I asked him, motioning to my suit. I had never worn one before and it felt odd against my skin.
“Here,” he said. “Let me.” Closing the door behind him, he stepped up behind me, reaching around to smooth out the material across my shoulders. <</if>> <<if $gabrielsex == "true">> When his head ducked down to suck a kiss into the juncture of my neck, I tilted my head to the side, letting out a soft moan. The same moan he had heard the night before which made his eyes flash silver. They were silver and bright now, an unsatiated hunger behind them that was slowly building. <</if>>
“Your outfit is impeccable coordinated,” he told me, pulling away before I could turn in his arms and demand more. I knew that if I did, he would be helpless to give it to me. Gabriel loved direction and seldom didn’t follow them.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I told him, laughing a bit at his compliment. The suit fit him perfectly, tailored to his form, tight in all the right places. It was odd seeing him without his Warden regalia but I was finding I wanted to see it more often. Gabriel of course looked good in a suit but he was starting to prove he looked even better out of one.
“Are you nervous for this evening?” he asked.
[[Yes|Chapter Twelve G Yes]]
[[No|Chapter Twelve G No]]
[[I just want to know where we all stand]]
Hazel was not coming with me tonight. When the ball had been announced, she had looked at me with terror. I knew that she would have pushed through it. <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>After what we had just gone through, I knew without a doubt that she would try for me.<</if>> But, in the end, I didn’t think I wanted her there. This was not a ball where we would dance through the night, fancy drinks perched in our hands. We were going for Milo. And I didn’t want to see Hazel’s heart broken.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
I nodded. The door was pushed open just enough for her to slip inside and as she walked across the room, her patchwork skirts swished pleasantly across the floor. The light from the window was hitting her almost ethereally as the blue glow from the wisps played with the miniature lanterns I had strung throughout the room.
“You look wonderful,” she breathed. Taking my hands, she squeezed them tightly, her thumbs dragging across my knuckles. “I wish it was under better circumstances,” she laughed. “Maybe when this is done we could go somewhere nice?”
[[Let’s just focus on getting through this]]
[[I would like that]]
[[When this is done, how about I make something nice here for us]]
“How fucking dare you? How could you be such a fucking conniving bastard? Go fuck yourself off that balcony.” My voice rose in volume, echoing down past the open window and into the garden below.
Malcolm nodded. “That. I like that option a lot.”
I groaned in frustration. “I’m worried I’m going to get up to this stupid balcony meeting of his and forget everything. That he will somehow convince me that I shouldn’t be mad at him.”
“You should be mad at him. I don’t care if he has a good reason or not. You should absolutely be made at him.” Pushing forward, Malcolm stopped in front of me. “Lamplight, I’m mad at him. What he did was not okay. It is the highlight reel of the worst of his personality. He may have his reasons and maybe they will be reasons we even agree with, but he went about this all wrong and he deserves anger in return.”
I placed my head in my hands, breathing deeply. I just wanted this night over.
“I don’t know how to forgive him, Malcolm,” I told him. <<if $miloro == "true">>”The things we shared… at what point in time did he stop and go, maybe this isn’t what I should be doing? And then the even bigger question, why the fuck did he continue? You don’t kiss someone, you don’t dance with someone, you don’t…” I trailed off. What a fool I had been. <</if>>
“You don’t need to forgive him,” Malcolm said softly. “You don’t even need to be cordial to him. All you need to do is go get our answers. Then, whether he is involved in all of this or not, doesn’t matter. At least we know where we stand and all of us can work on making you better.” Dipping his head downwards, he caught my eye. “Because that is what this is about. You. There is no more room for discussion in my mind.”
[[Finish getting ready on your own]]
<<if $dress == "cocktail">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "ballgown">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "The Bella Special">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]
<<elseif $formal == "suit">>[[Ask Malcolm to help you finish getting ready|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "corset">>[[Ask Malcolm to lace you up]]<</if>>“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was the one question that kept running through my head each time I thought of Milo. Why didn’t he just tell me? Any of us, for that matter. If, for whatever reason, he couldn’t trust me, why hadn’t he trusted Hazel? She was practically his sister and yet he had tossed that aside as well. What was going on that he didn’t feel comfortable enough to confide in us.
“He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to interfere,” Malcolm said softly.
I averted my eyes, playing with the foreign fabric I wore like a pair of armor. “You claim that you loved him but you are not giving a lot of room for forgiveness in these conversations about him.”
Malcolm looked at me sadly. “Because I’m mad at him. Knowing what he did to you? I’m not pleased. And Milo may have a good explanation for what he did, but it does not excuse how he went about it. You can love someone and still be disappointed in them, Lamplight. And the more I learn about these last couple of years, the more disappointed in him I am becoming.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>”He was worried about that, you know. That you’d be disappointed in him.”
The words shook Malcolm. I could see the pain lash across him like a slap. But he held firm. “That should have been his first clue that he wasn’t doing the right thing.” The anger had died from those words though and left Malcolm looking nothing but heartbroken over the self-fulfilling prophecy that Milo had called months ago<</if>>
[[Finish getting ready on your own]]
<<if $dress == "cocktail">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "ballgown">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "The Bella Special">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]
<<elseif $ballsuit == "true">>[[Ask Malcolm to help you finish getting ready|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "corset">>[[Ask Malcolm to lace you up]]<</if>>“Was it all a lie?” I whispered. That, above everything else, was what I wanted to know most. Was what we shared nothing but a game to him? In the dead of night I feared it the most. Remembering the way he held me, remembering the whispers in the dark, I didn’t want to believe that Milo had faked every last breath between us.
Before me, Malcolm sighed sadly. “I wish I could answer that for you,” he said. “I can tell you what I think, but I don’t know if you’ll want to hear it.”
I laughed a little, feeling my heart break over and over again. “No. Go ahead. Can’t be much worse than what I keep thinking.”
“I don’t think it’s a lie,” Malcolm said. “I really don’t. Because Milo didn’t grow up thinking he deserved love. He became jaded to the world and what it had to offer. So if Milo was offering love, he was doing it because he truly felt it. Say what you want about Milo, but when he loves someone, he shouts it from the rooftops. And if he doesn’t get the opportunity to, then he does it in the way he holds your hand.”
I paused, looking at him. “What do you mean?”
He knew he had gotten me with that. That that one was special. “Milo holds hands because he never wants to let go. So if he held your hand, it was because he was trying to keep you for himself for as long as he possibly could.”
I swallowed thickly, trying to engrain the words into my thoughts. We just needed our answers. The course had not changed. It just presented itself to me differently than it had before.
Nodding my head, I tried to steel myself against this moment. I needed to finish getting ready.
[[Finish getting ready on your own]]
<<if $dress == "cocktail">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "ballgown">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "The Bella Special">>[[Ask for Malcolm to zip you up|Mal zip up]]
<<elseif $ballsuit == "true">>[[Ask Malcolm to help you finish getting ready|Mal zip up]]<<elseif $dress == "corset">>[[Ask Malcolm to lace you up]]<</if>>“I should finish getting ready,” I told him.
Malcolm nodded, patting my shoulder as he passed me. “Don’t let Milo get to you, okay? He’s going to play his games and start with his fuckery, but I need you to remember something incredibly important about Milo.”
“What’s that?”
“He tries.”
I didn’t know what it meant exactly, and I had a feeling that it was one of those conversations that would come back around after this was all said and done. When I heard the click of the door signaling Malcolm’s departure, I turned back to the mirror. I was ready as I would ever be.
I would walk into this ball with my head held high, and confront the Gatekeeper without hesitation.
[[Next|Chapter Twelve the ball 2]]<<if $dress == "ballgown">>”Could you zip me up?” I asked him. He looked a little surprised by the request but nodded all the same. Walking around behind me, he reached for the zipper at the small of my back. HIs fingers were warm as they brushed against me, the zipper echoing through the room as it slowly ran up my spine. Malcolm’s hands settled on my shoulders afterward, his eyes locking with mine through the mirror.
“There,” he whispered. “All done.”
I sucked in a breath. “Right. All done.”<<elseif $dress == "cocktail">>”Could you zip me up?” I asked him. He looked a little surprised by the request but nodded all the same. Walking around behind me, he reached for the zipper at the small of my back. HIs fingers were warm as they brushed against me, the zipper echoing through the room as it slowly ran up my spine. Malcolm’s hands settled on my shoulders afterward, his eyes locking with mine through the mirror.
“There,” he whispered. “All done.”
I sucked in a breath. “Right. All done.”<<elseif $dress == "bella">>”Could you zip me up?” I asked him. He looked a little surprised by the request but nodded all the same. Walking around behind me, he reached for the zipper at the small of my back. HIs fingers were warm as they brushed against me, the zipper echoing through the room as it slowly ran up my spine. Malcolm’s hands settled on my shoulders afterward, his eyes locking with mine through the mirror.
“There,” he whispered. “All done.”
I sucked in a breath. “Right. All done.” <<elseif $formal == "suit">> “Could you help me with these stupid cufflinks?” I asked. I had been trying to do them one handed and had been dropping them to the floor. Malcolm laughed a little as he stepped forward, grabbing at my wrist to keep me steady. I felt his thumb swipe against my pulse and saw the way he swallowed as it fluttered beneath the pads of his fingers.
Slowly, he buttoned up my cufflinks, running his hands up the outside of the jacket and straightening my lapels.
“There,” he whispered. “All done.”
I sucked in a breath. “Right. All done.”<</if>> It was time. There was no more stalling. The lanterns outside were growing dimmer despite my protests, signalling the passage of time.
“You are not alone, Lamplight,” Malcolm said. “Everyone is going to be with you. So, the only thing you need to do, is give this Gatekeeper of ours, hell, okay?”
I tried to smile.
I knew it fell flat.
[[Next|Chapter Twelve the ball 2]]
<<if $dress == "corset">>”Could you lace me up?” I asked him. He looked a little surprised by the request but nodded all the same. Walking around behind me, he reached for the strings to my corset hanging at the small of my back. HIs fingers were warm as they brushed against me, the satin from the laces running across my spine. Slowly, he threaded the through the hooks on the dress, his knuckles dragging againt me. When his hands settled across my shoulders afterward, his eyes locked with mine through the mirror.
“There,” he whispered. “All done.”
I sucked in a breath. “Right. All done.” <<elseif $formal == "suit">> “Could you help me with these stupid cufflinks?” I asked. I had been trying to do them one handed and had been dropping them to the floor. Malcolm laughed a little as he stepped forward, grabbing at my wrist to keep me steady. I felt his thumb swipe against my pulse and saw the way he swallowed as it fluttered beneath the pads of his fingers.
Slowly, he buttoned up my cufflinks, running his hands up the outside of the jacket and straightening my lapels.
“There,” he whispered. “All done.”
I sucked in a breath. “Right. All done.”<</if>> It was time. There was no more stalling. The lanterns outside were growing dimmer despite my protests, signalling the passage of time.
“You are not alone, Lamplight,” Malcolm said. “Everyone is going to be with you. So, the only thing you need to do, is give this Gatekeeper of ours, hell, okay?”
I tried to smile.
I knew it fell flat.
[[Next|Chapter Twelve the ball 2]]
Taliesin Hynsin’s estate was a sprawling expanse of white and glittering marble set against the backdrop of dripping gemstone trees and polished glass flowerbeds. Standing at the base of the staircase leading up to the brightly lit chateau, I looked around me, trying to take in the splendor of my surroundings. The trees bent like willows, drops of rubies clinging to their limbs before weeping towards blades of emerald cut grass. Large fountains carved from lapis tumbled with a tinkling chime as rose quartz fell into a pool of glittering opal koi. And above it all, hung large lanterns made of moonstone, the likes of which had shards of fire quartz falling like frozen bits of light across a midnight stitched sky.
Slowly, I made my way upwards, the revelry from within already spilling across the entrance as individuals in finely made ballgowns and suits tumbled across the entrance in a mimicry of dance. Their laughter filled the air with song, their masked faces adding to the opulence, and all around me, around the entirety of the estate, not a single bush, a single blade of grass, a single polished bench, was out of place. Baron Hynsin spared no expense when it came to his home, the likes of which sat high upon a moon dusted hill near the outskirts of the market proper.
Delicately, I made my way around the people milling out front, most of them with drink in hand and their eyes alight with the wonder that was all around them. It would be easy to get lost here. I could see how someone could wander away from the safety of the light, only to find themselves lost in the gemstone depths.
I made my way into the ballroom, looking around at a room no less beautiful. A large chandelier was the star of the room, hanging from a vaulted ceiling and twirling with shifting crystals that reflected the twirling gowns and coat tails below.
I stood among a sea of strangers, the people around me not knowing who I was or why I was here. It was like a secret that I could keep for my own, something I could wear like a shield as I wandered through the room.
A bar was off to the far right, the surface a sheet of ice with frozen bursts of obsidian coloring within. Large vases of peacock feathers adorned each end of it while small dripping rosebud candles dotted along the bar itself. The light in here was bright and yet softened at each corner of the room, as if to put a spotlight on the dance floor itself.
I could see Belladonna at the bar. She sat on one of the stools, her legs crossed. She wore a red gown made of the softest flowing material. It looked like blood, arching elegantly down around her hips and thighs. A halter top bandaged her breasts, leaving her stomach bare where a ruby sat against her navel, locked around her waist with a gold chain.
I had to do a double take with who was next to her. Gabriel stood at attention, hair slicked back like normal, but it was the fact that he was not wearing his uniform that had caught me off guard. Never before did I think I had seen him without his uniform.
Walking up to the two of them, I caught sight of Belladonna whispering something to him out of the corner of her mouth, most of the movement covered by the way she was drinking from her wine glass. Her eyes were roaming the room, trialing after a few different people. Each time she spoke, Gabriel nodded, as if making note.
When she caught sight of me, however, she placed her glass down upon the bar. “$name,” she said. “You look positively delicious.” Her eyes raked over me, her tongue gliding across the exposed tips of her fangs. <<if $dress == "bella">>”I just knew that cut would look fabulous on you.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I should have known you picked that out.<<elseif $suit == "bellasuit">>”I just knew that cut would look fabulous on you.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I should have known you picked that out.<</if>>
“Gabriel,” I said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you in anything other than your Warden gear.” It was slightly unnerving to see the man dressed all in black, even his undershirt a rich hue of midnight.
“Yes, Gabriel,” Belladonna grinned. “It is nice to finally see you in the singular suit that you own. The one that I had picked out for you years ago and the one that, gasp, you said you threw away.” She leaned towards him, her shoulder brushing against his own. “You must have dug it out of the dumpster. It’s a marvel that it was still there after all these years.”
“Even more amazing,” he said dryly. “Is that $name has been standing here for a full minute and you have not mentioned your newfound Baronhood.”
With a snap, Belladonna turned at me. “$name, did you know I am now a Baron?”
I stared at the two of them with a small smile of amusement on my lips. So different than when I had first met them. Still catty, but now a much more playful tone had entered their banter.
“Would you like a drink, $name?” Gabriel asked, ready to turn to the bartender and order for me.
[[Yes please|Chapter Twelve yes please]]
[[Better not]]
[[If I had my way I would be smashed by now]]
“Yes, please.” Maybe a bit of liquid courage was all I needed. Or at the very least, it would be a distraction for the unknown that was laid out before me. Gabriel signaled to the bartender, procuring me a glass of wine similar to Belladonna’s.
“Cheers, dear heart,” Belladonna said. We clinked glasses, the two of us leaning up against the bar together and surveying the room. “Now, I know this is technically not a meeting with Taliesin Hynsin but I do feel as if I should carry on tradition and let you know what you are walking into if you do meet the man.”
“Voice low, Bells,” Gabriel warned.
She lowered her voice once more, hiding behind her wine glass. “If I see him I will point him out but I assure you, you will know him when he enters a room. The man wears a mask. Has never taken it off, as far as I know. The horns are made from petrified bone and are adorned with little gold bells. Hynsin is a goblin, if you hadn’t been able to tell by all the gemstones surrounding us, and he was birthed upon a royal line. Though, being one in a long line of heirs, he was never one that was going to take the throne. Now, I am not certain what exactly happened back in his home, but rumor has it the woman he loved was killed and he simply could not cope. Tried to join up with the Wild Hunt years ago after becoming some sort of Duke within his land. That also did not go well and due to enemies he made within the fae realms, he wound up here where he stole the moniker of Baron from the previous gemstone royal and has held that position ever since.”
I looked at Belladonna. “How do you even find these things out?” I asked.
“I look and listen,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “Also, he is a collector. Not of items, dear heart, but of living breathing individuals that he finds unique. Do not let him know who you truly are and try to not be left alone with him at any point in time.”
I noted that. He sounded exactly like the sort that I would want to stay away from and I knew that if I saw the man with the petrified horns and the golden bells, I would turn the other direction.
“Are Baron Sala and Baron Haust here this evening?” Belladonna asked, looking towards Gabriel.
“I kindly suggested to Baron Sala, that due to his wife being pregnant, tonight was not the night he should join the festivities.”
Belladonna tipped her head back towards me. “Chrysanthemum Haust wants Taliesin dead,” she said under her breath. “But no one yet knows why.”
“I am sure you will figure it out soon,” I told her. “What with you being a Baron and all.” I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, seeing the way she grinned. She couldn’t be more pleased with her position in life and it was a look that suited her well.
“Ms. Albright,” Gabriel said in genuine surprise. “I did not expect to see you here tonight.”
My eyes snapped towards Gabriel as I saw Hazel make her way towards us. She looked at the crowd nervously, trying her best to stay out of the dance floor's spotlight. She wore a beautiful dress of sage green, the likes of which flowed to the floor in gauzy strips of petals. Her hair was down, and her fingers were covered in soft lace gloves.
“I thought about it,” she said as she reached us. “And we should all be here for $name.” She looked at me, giving me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see that before you left.”
[[I’m just happy you are here now]]
[[Are you okay with being here]]
[[Hazel, you didn’t have to come. I understood]]
“I better not,” I told her. The last thing I wanted was to be inebriated on tonight of all nights. Not when it felt like every moment was leading up to this one.
Gabriel nodded in understanding and I noticed he was without a glass himself. He did order Belladonna another glass of wine though, handing it to her wordlessly. Taking a sip, she leaned in close to me, surveying the crowd. “Now, I know this is technically not a meeting with Taliesin Hynsin but I do feel as if I should carry on tradition and let you know what you are walking into if you do meet the man.”
“Voice low, Bells,” Gabriel warned.
She lowered her voice once more, hiding behind her wine glass. “If I see him I will point him out but I assure you, you will know him when he enters a room. The man wears a mask. Has never taken it off, as far as I know. The horns are made from petrified bone and are adorned with little gold bells. Hynsin is a goblin, if you hadn’t been able to tell by all the gemstones surrounding us, and he was birthed upon a royal line. Though, being one in a long line of heirs, he was never one that was going to take the throne. Now, I am not certain what exactly happened back in his home, but rumor has it the woman he loved was killed and he simply could not cope. Tried to join up with the Wild Hunt years ago after becoming some sort of Duke within his land. That also did not go well and due to enemies he made within the fae realms, he wound up here where he stole the moniker of Baron from the previous gemstone royal and has held that position ever since.”
I looked at Belladonna. “How do you even find these things out?” I asked.
“I look and listen,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “Also, he is a collector. Not of items, dear heart, but of living breathing individuals that he finds unique. Do not let him know who you truly are and try to not be left alone with him at any point in time.”
I noted that. He sounded exactly like the sort that I would want to stay away from and I knew that if I saw the man with the petrified horns and the golden bells, I would turn the other direction.
“Are Baron Sala and Baron Haust here this evening?” Belladonna asked, looking towards Gabriel.
“I kindly suggested to Baron Sala, that due to his wife being pregnant, tonight was not the night he should join the festivities.”
Belladonna tipped her head back towards me. “Chrysanthemum Haust wants Taliesin dead,” she said under her breath. “But no one yet knows why.”
“I am sure you will figure it out soon,” I told her. “What with you being a Baron and all.” I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, seeing the way she grinned. She couldn’t be more pleased with her position in life and it was a look that suited her well.
“Ms. Albright,” Gabriel said in genuine surprise. “I did not expect to see you here tonight.”
My eyes snapped towards Gabriel as I saw Hazel make her way towards us. She looked at the crowd nervously, trying her best to stay out of the dance floor's spotlight. She wore a beautiful dress of sage green, the likes of which flowed to the floor in gauzy strips of petals. Her hair was down, and her fingers were covered in soft lace gloves.
“I thought about it,” she said as she reached us. “And we should all be here for $name.” She looked at me, giving me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see that before you left.”
[[I’m just happy you are here now]]
[[Are you okay with being here]]
[[Hazel, you didn’t have to come. I understood]]
“If I had my way I would be well on my way to being smashed by now,” I told him. I was almost certain it would do nothing to serve our cause tonight but I could not express how much I did not want to be here for this confrontation.
Gabriel signaled to the bartender, procuring me a glass of wine similar to Belladonna’s.
“Cheers, dear heart,” Belladonna said. We clinked glasses, the two of us leaning up against the bar together and surveying the room. “Now, I know this is technically not a meeting with Taliesin Hynsin but I do feel as if I should carry on tradition and let you know what you are walking into if you do meet the man.”
“Voice low, Bells,” Gabriel warned.
She lowered her voice once more, hiding behind her wine glass. “If I see him I will point him out but I assure you, you will know him when he enters a room. The man wears a mask. Has never taken it off, as far as I know. The horns are made from petrified bone and are adorned with little gold bells. Hynsin is a goblin, if you hadn’t been able to tell by all the gemstones surrounding us, and he was birthed upon a royal line. Though, being one in a long line of heirs, he was never one that was going to take the throne. Now, I am not certain what exactly happened back in his home, but rumor has it the woman he loved was killed and he simply could not cope. Tried to join up with the Wild Hunt years ago after becoming some sort of Duke within his land. That also did not go well and due to enemies he made within the fae realms, he wound up here where he stole the moniker of Baron from the previous gemstone royal and has held that position ever since.”
I looked at Belladonna. “How do you even find these things out?” I asked.
“I look and listen,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “Also, he is a collector. Not of items, dear heart, but of living breathing individuals that he finds unique. Do not let him know who you truly are and try to not be left alone with him at any point in time.”
I noted that. He sounded exactly like the sort that I would want to stay away from and I knew that if I saw the man with the petrified horns and the golden bells, I would turn the other direction.
“Are Baron Sala and Baron Haust here this evening?” Belladonna asked, looking towards Gabriel.
“I kindly suggested to Baron Sala, that due to his wife being pregnant, tonight was not the night he should join the festivities.”
Belladonna tipped her head back towards me. “Chrysanthemum Haust wants Taliesin dead,” she said under her breath. “But no one yet knows why.”
“I am sure you will figure it out soon,” I told her. “What with you being a Baron and all.” I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, seeing the way she grinned. She couldn’t be more pleased with her position in life and it was a look that suited her well.
“Ms. Albright,” Gabriel said in genuine surprise. “I did not expect to see you here tonight.”
My eyes snapped towards Gabriel as I saw Hazel make her way towards us. She looked at the crowd nervously, trying her best to stay out of the dance floor's spotlight. She wore a beautiful dress of sage green, the likes of which flowed to the floor in gauzy strips of petals. Her hair was down, and her fingers were covered in soft lace gloves.
“I thought about it,” she said as she reached us. “And we should all be here for $name.” She looked at me, giving me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see that before you left.”
[[I’m just happy you are here now]]
[[Are you okay with being here]]
[[Hazel, you didn’t have to come. I understood]]
“I’m just happy you are here now,” I told her. The only time I had seen her leave the shop for any sort of length, was our journey to the Deep. And then, it had been for Malcolm. The fact that she was here now, for me, left me feeling oddly touched. <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">> Stepping closer to her, I reached out, wanting to feel her against me. She pressed herself close and I could feel the tremble in her shoulders. "You didn't have to do this," I told her quietly. "It would have been okay."
She nodded, smiling up at me. "I know. But you are far more important than my fears. I wanted to be here. For you."
I swallowed thickly, leaning down to kiss her softly before she pulled away. <<elseif $hazelro == "true">>Stepping closer to her, I reached out, wanting to feel her against me. She pressed herself close and I could feel the tremble in her shoulders. "You are perfect," I told her.
She took a shaky breath as she looked up at me. "I didn't want to miss you looking spectacular tonight. Besides, I think I've finally found someone to be brave for."
Leaning down, I kissed her softly, her lips slipping against mine in a whisper. Her eyes fluttered closed, body trembling against mine. When we pulled apart, all I wanted was to take her far away from here. Forever.<</if>>
“The second you left I realized my mistake," she told me. "You’ve shown up for us, all of us, and you’ve done so without question. If I didn’t do so for you tonight, well, what kind of friend would I be?”
When a crowd of people passed us, Hazel stepped further towards the bar, pressing herself against the icy surface. Subtly, Belladonna made room for her. I knew that no one would touch her tonight. No one would even come near her. For on her other side, Gabriel closed in as well. The Baron and the Warden, daring anyone to try to get past them.
“Any sign of him?” Hazel asked. Gabriel handed her a warm mug of tea. I didn’t even know it was possible to order tea from a bar.
“Nothing,” Belladonna muttered. “And we have been looking.”
“He’ll show,” I said confidently. He didn’t leave that note for nothing. He wanted me here tonight. And I was walking straight into whatever his plan was. I only hoped that he didn’t remain three steps ahead like he had been doing.
“It appears,” Gabriel said. “He already has.”
Looking up, I saw him. Milo stood on the second story mezzanine, hands braced on the banister, eyes locked on me. He wore a maroon suit, tailored to him perfectly, jacket buttoned with no shirt beneath and tarnished silver chains around his neck. His head was tipped to the side, waiting for me to catch sight of him. When I did, I felt my stomach churn. Pulling the cigarette from behind his ear, he placed it in his mouth before pushing away, heading towards the balcony.
I stared at the space he had been, feeling myself frozen at the sight of him. Next to me, Gabriel shook his head. “You do not have to do this alone,” he intoned.
Belladonna sighed. “Unfortunately you will have to do it without me,” she said with a frown. Barons were not allowed to be around other Barons.
“$name,” Hazel said softly, her hand brushing against my arm. “Did you want me to come with you?"
I continued to stare at the spot he had been, wondering how long he had stood there. How long had those whiskey tinged eyes pinned me down?
“No,” I said. “No, I’m going to do this one alone. He owes that to me.”
“Be careful,” Gabriel intoned. “If you find yourself in need of anything, do not hesitate to call out for me.”
Belladonna nodded at his side. “I don’t care what the rules are, dear heart. If he lays a hand on you, I will not hesitate to tear this room apart.”
When Hazel squeezed my hand within hers, drawing my gaze finally, she stared up at me. Her heart shape face full of concern though she tried her best to have an encouraging smile. “You have faced far worse than, Milo,” she said. “Just remember, do not let the man who is afraid of a cat, intimidate you.”
I felt a bit of laughter bubble through me. “Thank you, Hazel.” Then turning to them all. “Thank you to you all.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 3]]
“Are you okay with being here?” I asked Hazel. She was not one to ever leave the shop. The only time I had seen her do so at any sort of length, was our journey to the Deep. And then, it had been for Malcolm. The fact that she was here now, for me, left me feeling oddly touched.
“I–” she hesitated. “I will be. I think it's time I stop living my life within those four walls. And while my garden is beautiful I think that I’ve locked myself away from the world. It’s- it’s time to start living again, $name. You taught me that.”
“I taught you that? How?”
“By getting up every day, no matter how scary things got, and by continuing to put one foot in front of the other. Continuing to put yourself out there over and over again because you knew it was the right thing to do. I admire that.”
“Dear heart is admirable,” Belladonna said. “I’ve always thought so, at least.”
<<if $hazelbreakup == "true">> Stepping closer to her, I reached out, wanting to feel her against me. She pressed herself close and I could feel the tremble in her shoulders. "You didn't have to do this," I told her quietly. "It would have been okay."
She nodded, smiling up at me. "I know. But you are far more important than my fears. I wanted to be here. For you."
I swallowed thickly, leaning down to kiss her softly before she pulled away. <<elseif $hazelro == "true">>Stepping closer to her, I reached out, wanting to feel her against me. She pressed herself close and I could feel the tremble in her shoulders. "You are perfect," I told her.
She took a shaky breath as she looked up at me. "I didn't want to miss you looking spectacular tonight. Besides, I think I've finally found someone to be brave for."
Leaning down, I kissed her softly, her lips slipping against mine in a whisper. Her eyes fluttered closed, body trembling against mine. When we pulled apart, all I wanted was to take her far away from here. Forever.<</if>>
“The second you left I realized my mistake," she told me. "You’ve shown up for us, all of us, and you’ve done so without question. If I didn’t do so for you tonight, well, what kind of friend would I be?”
When a crowd of people passed us, Hazel stepped further towards the bar, pressing herself against the icy surface. Subtly, Belladonna made room for her. I knew that no one would touch her tonight. No one would even come near her. For on her other side, Gabriel closed in as well. The Baron and the Warden, daring anyone to try to get past them.
“Any sign of him?” Hazel asked. Gabriel handed her a warm mug of tea. I didn’t even know it was possible to order tea from a bar.
“Nothing,” Belladonna muttered. “And we have been looking.”
“He’ll show,” I said confidently. He didn’t leave that note for nothing. He wanted me here tonight. And I was walking straight into whatever his plan was. I only hoped that he didn’t remain three steps ahead like he had been doing.
“It appears,” Gabriel said. “He already has.”
Looking up, I saw him. Milo stood on the second story mezzanine, hands braced on the banister, eyes locked on me. He wore a maroon suit, tailored to him perfectly, jacket buttoned with no shirt beneath and tarnished silver chains around his neck. His head was tipped to the side, waiting for me to catch sight of him. When I did, I felt my stomach churn. Pulling the cigarette from behind his ear, he placed it in his mouth before pushing away, heading towards the balcony.
I stared at the space he had been, feeling myself frozen at the sight of him. Next to me, Gabriel shook his head. “You do not have to do this alone,” he intoned.
Belladonna sighed. “Unfortunately you will have to do it without me,” she said with a frown. Barons were not allowed to be around other Barons.
“$name,” Hazel said softly, her hand brushing against my arm. “Did you want me to come with you?"
I continued to stare at the spot he had been, wondering how long he had stood there. How long had those whiskey tinged eyes pinned me down?
“No,” I said. “No, I’m going to do this one alone. He owes that to me.”
“Be careful,” Gabriel intoned. “If you find yourself in need of anything, do not hesitate to call out for me.”
Belladonna nodded at his side. “I don’t care what the rules are, dear heart. If he lays a hand on you, I will not hesitate to tear this room apart.”
When Hazel squeezed my hand within hers, drawing my gaze finally, she stared up at me. Her heart shape face full of concern though she tried her best to have an encouraging smile. “You have faced far worse than, Milo,” she said. “Just remember, do not let the man who is afraid of a cat, intimidate you.”
I felt a bit of laughter bubble through me. “Thank you, Hazel.” Then turning to them all. “Thank you to you all.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 3]]
“Hazel, you didn’t have to come here tonight. I understood why you stayed home.” Though, the fact that she was here, warmed my heart. Hazel hated leaving the shop. The only reason she had left the apothecary to come to the Deep, was for Malcolm. To know that she did the same tonight for me, left me oddly touched.
“I have to face my fears at some point, right?” she said with a wavering laugh.
<<if $hazelbreakup == "true">> Stepping closer to her, I reached out, wanting to feel her against me. She pressed herself close and I could feel the tremble in her shoulders. "You didn't have to do this," I told her quietly. "It would have been okay."
She nodded, smiling up at me. "I know. But you are far more important than my fears. I wanted to be here. For you."
I swallowed thickly, leaning down to kiss her softly before she pulled away. <<elseif $hazelro == "true">>Stepping closer to her, I reached out, wanting to feel her against me. She pressed herself close and I could feel the tremble in her shoulders. "You are perfect," I told her.
She took a shaky breath as she looked up at me. "I didn't want to miss you looking spectacular tonight. Besides, I think I've finally found someone to be brave for."
Leaning down, I kissed her softly, her lips slipping against mine in a whisper. Her eyes fluttered closed, body trembling against mine. When we pulled apart, all I wanted was to take her far away from here. Forever.<</if>>
“The second you left I realized my mistake," she told me. "You’ve shown up for us, all of us, and you’ve done so without question. If I didn’t do so for you tonight, well, what kind of friend would I be?”
When a crowd of people passed us, Hazel stepped further towards the bar, pressing herself against the icy surface. Subtly, Belladonna made room for her. I knew that no one would touch her tonight. No one would even come near her. For on her other side, Gabriel closed in as well. The Baron and the Warden, daring anyone to try to get past them.
“Any sign of him?” Hazel asked. Gabriel handed her a warm mug of tea. I didn’t even know it was possible to order tea from a bar.
“Nothing,” Belladonna muttered. “And we have been looking.”
“He’ll show,” I said confidently. He didn’t leave that note for nothing. He wanted me here tonight. And I was walking straight into whatever his plan was. I only hoped that he didn’t remain three steps ahead like he had been doing.
“It appears,” Gabriel said. “He already has.”
Looking up, I saw him. Milo stood on the second story mezzanine, hands braced on the banister, eyes locked on me. He wore a maroon suit, tailored to him perfectly, jacket buttoned with no shirt beneath and tarnished silver chains around his neck. His head was tipped to the side, waiting for me to catch sight of him. When I did, I felt my stomach churn. Pulling the cigarette from behind his ear, he placed it in his mouth before pushing away, heading towards the balcony.
I stared at the space he had been, feeling myself frozen at the sight of him. Next to me, Gabriel shook his head. “You do not have to do this alone,” he intoned.
Belladonna sighed. “Unfortunately you will have to do it without me,” she said with a frown. Barons were not allowed to be around other Barons.
“$name,” Hazel said softly, her hand brushing against my arm. “Did you want me to come with you?"
I continued to stare at the spot he had been, wondering how long he had stood there. How long had those whiskey tinged eyes pinned me down?
“No,” I said. “No, I’m going to do this one alone. He owes that to me.”
“Be careful,” Gabriel intoned. “If you find yourself in need of anything, do not hesitate to call out for me.”
Belladonna nodded at his side. “I don’t care what the rules are, dear heart. If he lays a hand on you, I will not hesitate to tear this room apart.”
When Hazel squeezed my hand within hers, drawing my gaze finally, she stared up at me. Her heart shape face full of concern though she tried her best to have an encouraging smile. “You have faced far worse than, Milo,” she said. “Just remember, do not let the man who is afraid of a cat, intimidate you.”
I felt a bit of laughter bubble through me. “Thank you, Hazel.” Then turning to them all. “Thank you to you all.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve 3]]
I took the winding staircase up to the second level, looking around at the twirling skirts and the masked faces. They danced along the floor in one fluid motion, hands clasped together, wine and laughter running freely. From the chandelier acrobatics hung, falling with silk scarves down to the floor before slowly winding their bodies back up again.
I could see Belladonna, Gabriel and Hazel. All watching me from the bar. All ready to come to my aid at a seconds notice. It oddly made me feel far more comfortable, stepping out onto that balcony. As if they had my back, even from their position down on the first floor.
Reaching the balcony, I took a deep breath. The archway leading outside was lined in crystal, casting the pathway with shards of sparkling light. But the balcony was dark. There were no lanterns lighting the way and only off in the distance, did the faint glow of the market appear. I could see a form, as I stepped through. A hunched shadow that was looking out towards the sea of lanterns.
Milo’s back was to me, the dark of the estate casting him in shadow. The soft glow from his cigarette flickered as he sucked at the paper, holding it between two long and elegant fingers.
[[Thought you quit]]
[[You bastard]]
[[Say nothing]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Where have you been?]]<</if>>“I thought you quit.” My eyes remained on the burning ember. On the cigarette that he had kept tucked behind his ear the entire time I knew him. Occasionally, he would take it out, fiddle with it. Look at it for a long while. But it was always put away. I knew now he had been saving it for this moment.
He took one long drag, the smoke curling around him as he settled against the banister, leaning on his folded arms to look out over the night.
“What can I say? It didn’t take.” Flicking the ash, he turned to me, crossing his legs at the ankle. “By the look on your face, I’d say you know.”
“I know,” I confirmed.
He didn’t even have the proper sense to look guilty. In fact, the Milo I looked at now felt sharper. The lines of his face stark against his face, the burning intensity speaking far more of a man who was resigned to his fate.
“So this is you then,” I said. “Without the mask. Without the lies.”
“Disappointed?” he asked curiously.
[[Yes|Chapter twelve yes]]
[[Why did you keep this from me?]]
[[Angry]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Heartbroken]]<</if>>“You bastard." They were the first words that came to mind upon seeing him. Seeing the way the cigarette burned in the dark and how he didn’t turn to look at me. I could help the bubble of anger that seethed within my stomach. It was acidic, burning through me like an all consuming heat.
Sucking another long pull from the cigarette, he flicked the ash over the balcony edge. Lazily, he turned to me, crossing his legs at the ankle as he looked me up and down. “By the look on your face, I’d say you know.”
“I know,” I confirmed.
He didn’t even have the proper sense to look guilty. In fact, the Milo I looked at now felt sharper. The lines of his face stark against his face, the burning intensity speaking far more of a man who was resigned to his fate.
“So this is you then,” I said. “Without the mask. Without the lies.”
“Disappointed?” he asked curiously.
[[Yes|Chapter twelve yes]]
[[Why did you keep this from me?]]
[[Angry]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Heartbroken]]<</if>>I didn’t know what to say. What could I even say? Every road, every path, it had all led to this very moment and yet I had nothing. Whatever words I had thought I would utter caught in my throat, like one of the broken pieces of glass in the flower beds down below. Completely useless.
Sucking another long pull from the cigarette, he flicked the ash over the balcony edge. Lazily, he turned to me, crossing his legs at the ankle as he looked me up and down. “By the look on your face, I’d say you know.”
He didn’t even have the proper sense to look guilty. In fact, the Milo I looked at now felt sharper. The lines of his face stark against his face, the burning intensity speaking far more of a man who was resigned to his fate.
“So this is you then,” I said. “Without the mask. Without the lies.”
“Disappointed?” he asked curiously.
[[Yes|Chapter twelve yes]]
[[Why did you keep this from me?]]
[[Angry]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Heartbroken]]<</if>>“Milo,” I started softly. “Where have you been? I was worried about you.”
The muscles of his back tensed, his cigarette paused halfway to his lips. A puff of air escaped him to disappear into the cool night. The frozen nature of the market hadn’t reached the Hynsin estate, but the air was still frigid. Taking a hesitant step forward, I moved myself away from the party, narrowing my world down to just the two of us.
“Everything has been so messed up these last few weeks. So much has happened. I was terrified that something had happened to you. Are you okay?” I wanted to reach out and touch him. Could nearly see my hand do it. But his shoulders curled inward, as if he was flinching from the phantom touch.
Audibly, he swallowed. “You shouldn’t have been worried about me,” he stated.
I shook my head sadly. “How could I not?” For weeks, I hadn't known if he was dead or alive. If he was safe. If he was sleeping or if the night terrors were plaguing him still. I didn’t know if he needed help or if he was scared. Any contact would have put so much at ease and yet… nothing.
Sucking another long pull from the cigarette, he flicked the ash over the balcony edge. I watched as if he were a puppet, slowly being pulled up by his strings. Lazily, he turned to me, leaning against the balcony wall and crossing his legs at the ankle. “By the look on your face, I’d say you know.”
“I know,” I confirmed, voice sad at the clear dismissal of his own feelings.
He didn’t even have the proper sense to look guilty. In fact, the Milo I looked at now felt sharper. The lines of his face stark against his face, the burning intensity speaking far more of a man who was resigned to his fate.
“So this is you then,” I said. “Without the mask. Without the lies.”
“Disappointed?” he asked curiously.
[[Yes|Chapter twelve yes]]
[[Why did you keep this from me?]]
[[Angry]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Heartbroken]]<</if>>“Yes,” I said immediately, without an ounce of emotion. I watched it strike him. Disapointment. Milo hated that word more than anything and I had just weaponized it.
“I tried to tell you not to do this,” he said with a shrug, rolling with the blow of my words. “I told you it was a waste of time.” Don't contact the Barons. Don't even bother. They won't listen to you anyway. They were all points he had tried to hammer home.
“The waste of my time was from you. Not from them. I was doing what I could to get the Gatekeepers name. You could have just told me from the beginning."
Pushing away from the balcony wall, he walked up to me. His eyes were darker, the pain and horror I had slowly seen growing across his face these last few months all but gone now. He had made peace with whatever was happening. Milo had made his decision.
<<if $miloro == "true">> With the back of one finger, he traced it down the line of my cheek, his Baron ring glinting in the ambient light from the ballroom.<</if>> “It was never going to matter.” He stepped away then, almost as if he hadn’t realized he had even moved forward. “I assume you’ve met the Fates by now. You know as well as I that things are just sometimes ordained. It was always going to play out like this, darlin’. But for a little while, you felt like you had some control. That means something right?”
[[That means nothing]]
[[I'm not rising to your bait]]
[[I never once felt like I had control]]
I ignored him. The whiskey softness of his voice filtering towards me in a way that made my anger rise. But Malcolm was right. He had warned me to not let Milo take control of the situation. “Why did you keep this from me? Did you think it was funny? Watching us go around and look for you?”
“I tried to tell you not to do this,” he said with a shrug, rolling with the blow of my words. “I told you it was a waste of time.” Don't contact the Barons. Don't even bother. They won't listen to you anyway. They were all points he had tried to hammer home.
“The waste of my time was from you. Not from them. I was doing what I could to get the Gatekeepers name. You could have just told me from the beginning."
Pushing away from the balcony wall, he walked up to me. His eyes were darker, the pain and horror I had slowly seen growing across his face these last few months all but gone now. He had made peace with whatever was happening. Milo had made his decision.
<<if $miloro == "true">> With the back of one finger, he traced it down the line of my cheek, his Baron ring glinting in the ambient light from the ballroom.<</if>> “It was never going to matter.” He stepped away then, almost as if he hadn’t realized he had even moved forward. “I assume you’ve met the Fates by now. You know as well as I that things are just sometimes ordained. It was always going to play out like this, darlin’. But for a little while, you felt like you had some control. That means something right?”
[[That means nothing]]
[[I'm not rising to your bait]]
[[I never once felt like I had control]]
My fists clenched at my side, nails digging into the palms of my hands. The fact that he had the audacity to just stand there as if he had done nothing wrong drove me to a fury I had yet to know.
"Oh, Milo. We have gone far past disapointment. Now, I'm just angry. Angry that you played all of us. That you put us through danger when you could have been working with us this entire time. Did you even stop once to think about what you were doing? Or did you just blindly stumble through these last few months and hope we were too fucking dumb to figure it all out."
“I tried to tell you not to do this,” he said with a shrug, rolling with the blow of my words. “I told you it was a waste of time.” Don't contact the Barons. Don't even bother. They won't listen to you anyway. They were all points he had tried to hammer home.
“The waste of my time was from you. Not from them. I was doing what I could to get the Gatekeepers name. You could have just told me from the beginning."
Pushing away from the balcony wall, he walked up to me. His eyes were darker, the pain and horror I had slowly seen growing across his face these last few months all but gone now. He had made peace with whatever was happening. Milo had made his decision.
<<if $miloro == "true">> With the back of one finger, he traced it down the line of my cheek, his Baron ring glinting in the ambient light from the ballroom.<</if>> “It was never going to matter.” He stepped away then, almost as if he hadn’t realized he had even moved forward. “I assume you’ve met the Fates by now. You know as well as I that things are just sometimes ordained. It was always going to play out like this, darlin’. But for a little while, you felt like you had some control. That means something right?”
[[That means nothing]]
[[I'm not rising to your bait]]
[[I never once felt like I had control]]
“No,” I said gently, feeling my throat tighten. “Not disappointed, Milo. Heartbroken.” Disapointment didn't cover what I was feeling towards this man that I had given my heart to. I had trusted him blindly for so long and to see that what we shared had been nothing more than a convenient tool felt like tears shattering at my feet.
I saw something flicker across his eyes. Or maybe it was just a reflection of the ember still burning at the tip of his cigarette. Either way, he snuffed it quickly. Just another thing he acknowleged before shoving aside.
“I tried to tell you not to do this,” he said with a shrug, rolling with the blow of my words. “I told you it was a waste of time.” Don't contact the Barons. Don't even bother. They won't listen to you anyway. They were all points he had tried to hammer home.
“The waste of my time was from you. Not from them. I was doing what I could to get the Gatekeepers name. You could have just told me from the beginning."
Pushing away from the balcony wall, he walked up to me. His eyes were darker, the pain and horror I had slowly seen growing across his face these last few months all but gone now. He had made peace with whatever was happening. Milo had made his decision.
<<if $miloro == "true">> With the back of one finger, he traced it down the line of my cheek, his Baron ring glinting in the ambient light from the ballroom.<</if>> “It was never going to matter.” He stepped away then, almost as if he hadn’t realized he had even moved forward. “I assume you’ve met the Fates by now. You know as well as I that things are just sometimes ordained. It was always going to play out like this, darlin’. But for a little while, you felt like you had some control. That means something right?”
[[That means nothing]]
[[I'm not rising to your bait]]
[[I never once felt like I had control]]
“That means nothing,” I spat. “Are you so delusional that you think the illusion of control would placate me? Soften this situation?” It was insulting. As if I were some sort of child that he wanted to give kindness towards before shoving away.
Stepping towards him, I let my eyes harden on their own accord. “You owe me,” I told him. “You don’t get to use the Fates as your excuse for lying to us for all these months. All of this, every last bit of this, could have been avoided. Avoided by //you//.”
Flicking his cigarette, he watched it fall off the balcony, somewhere below to the cluster of gemstone trees. Head tipped down, I watched his jaw flex. “I know how to save you,” he said. “I figured it out.”
I couldn’t tell if he was changing the subject or finally telling the truth. “What do you even mean?”
Turning, he looked at me, a pained smile across his lips. “You’re here because of me, $name. The Night Market.” He looked me up and down, as if finally saying it out loud made me look different to him. “The reason you landed on these streets?” He held out his arms. “Here it is. I brought you here.”
I stumbled back, staring at him in disbelief. Milo didn’t have that power. Milo was a con artist. A thief. A man with a charming smile and nothing more.
“Lucinda Albright,” he said, dropping his hands to the side. “Hazel’s mother. I stole her grimoire to search for a solution. The market is dying. //You// are dying. We need to close this world off completely. I couldn’t do that on my own. I tried for a while. To just close each gate. But you,” he laughed through his teeth, “You had this funny way of opening the gates despite me being the one who is the Gatekeeper. So I had to protect you. From yourself, ironically. So I found a spell.”
“A spell? What does that have to do with bringing me here?”
“I needed to bring you forward to complete the spell,” he said. “The second your feet touched down in the market, I knew who you were.”
<<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">>“When you saw me in that cage, you knew me?”
He smiled wanly. “Why else do you think I would even approach?”<</if>>
“You’ve always known me then. From the second we first met, through those initial days, right down to when I was searching for answers as to why I came here. You //always// knew?”
I took a step back from him, feeling my heart thundering in my chest. He had lied from the beginning about //everything// and the sheer weight of that, at how easily I had believed him, left me breathless. <<if $miloro == "true">>From the second he first turned his eyes my way, he had begun his game and I followed him around like a dog on a leash.<</if>>
[[You asshole]]
[[So what? I’m here to keep the gates from opening?]]
[[You should have been honest from the beginning]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[You used me]]<</if>>
“I'm not rising to your bait," I told him calmly. "I don't know if you truly believe what you are saying or if you are saying everything in hopes of making yourself feel better. I don't care either." There was a shift in him. A subtle movement in weight. Milo was never someone that liked getting called out on his behavior. Now, I was wondering if it ran far deeper than that. “You don’t get to rewrite history because you messed up, Milo,” I told him. “You don’t get to decide how everyone else perceives whatever it is you are doing.”
His eyes snapped to mine, face becoming sharp. “And neither do you, $name. You don’t know what is going on. You don’t have the entire picture. And frankly, you probably don’t fucking want it. So why don’t you let the people capable of making a decision do the dirty work, huh?”
It stung. It was a slap to the face that I didn’t see coming. How often had I made the tough decisions? Hadn’t my life been exactly that the entire time I had been within the market. Taking a deep breath, I tried to recall Malcolm’s parting words with me. Don’t let him win. Don’t fall for his distractions.
Stepping towards him, I let my eyes harden on their own accord. “You owe me,” I told him, keeping my tone even. “You don’t get to use the Fates as your excuse for lying to us for all these months. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Flicking his cigarette, he watched it fall off the balcony, somewhere below to the cluster of gemstone trees. Head tipped down, I watched his jaw flex. “I know how to save you,” he said. “I figured it out.”
I couldn’t tell if he was changing the subject or finally telling the truth. “What do you even mean?”
Turning, he looked at me, a pained smile across his lips. “You’re here because of me, $name. The Night Market.” He looked me up and down, as if finally saying it out loud made me look different to him. “The reason you landed on these streets?” He held out his arms. “Here it is. I brought you here.”
I stumbled back, staring at him in disbelief. Milo didn’t have that power. Milo was a con artist. A thief. A man with a charming smile and nothing more.
“Lucinda Albright,” he said, dropping his hands to the side. “Hazel’s mother. I stole her grimoire to search for a solution. The market is dying. //You// are dying. We need to close this world off completely. I couldn’t do that on my own. I tried for a while. To just close each gate. But you,” he laughed through his teeth, “You had this funny way of opening the gates despite me being the one who is the Gatekeeper. So I had to protect you. From yourself, ironically. So I found a spell.”
“A spell? What does that have to do with bringing me here?”
“I needed to bring you forward to complete the spell,” he said. “The second your feet touched down in the market, I knew who you were.”
<<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">>“When you saw me in that cage, you knew me?”
He smiled wanly. “Why else do you think I would even approach?”<</if>>
“You’ve always known me then. From the second we first met, through those initial days, right down to when I was searching for answers as to why I came here. You //always// knew?”
I took a step back from him, feeling my heart thundering in my chest. He had lied from the beginning about //everything// and the sheer weight of that, at how easily I had believed him, left me breathless. <<if $miloro == "true">>From the second he first turned his eyes my way, he had begun his game and I followed him around like a dog on a leash.<</if>>
[[You asshole]]
[[So what? I’m here to keep the gates from opening?]]
[[You should have been honest from the beginning]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[You used me]]<</if>>
“Not once did I feel like I had control,” I shouted, my voice reaching a volume that felt far out of my grasp. “Do you know how many nights I fell asleep, feeling as if I was spiraling into some sort of abyss? You could have helped with that.<<if $miloro == "true">> Those nights that I laid in your arms, the nights we spent together, you could have said something at any point in time, Milo. You //chose// not to. You continued to use me to your own gain and watch as I floundered. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> At any given point in time you could have said something. You have never been one to follow the damn rules but you did here because it was to your advantage alone. Don’t try to tell me that I had control because I never did. You had it all. And you //chose// to ignore the pain that was right in front of you.<</if>> So, you owe me an answer better than the Fates as to why you didn’t.”
Flicking his cigarette, he watched it fall off the balcony, somewhere below to the cluster of gemstone trees. Head tipped down, I watched his jaw flex. “I know how to save you,” he said. “I figured it out.”
I couldn’t tell if he was changing the subject or finally telling the truth. “What do you even mean?”
Turning, he looked at me, a pained smile across his lips. “You’re here because of me, $name. The Night Market.” He looked me up and down, as if finally saying it out loud made me look different to him. “The reason you landed on these streets?” He held out his arms. “Here it is. I brought you here.”
I stumbled back, staring at him in disbelief. Milo didn’t have that power. Milo was a con artist. A thief. A man with a charming smile and nothing more.
“Lucinda Albright,” he said, dropping his hands to the side. “Hazel’s mother. I stole her grimoire to search for a solution. The market is dying. //You// are dying. We need to close this world off completely. I couldn’t do that on my own. I tried for a while. To just close each gate. But you,” he laughed through his teeth, “You had this funny way of opening the gates despite me being the one who is the Gatekeeper. So I had to protect you. From yourself, ironically. So I found a spell.”
“A spell? What does that have to do with bringing me here?”
“I needed to bring you forward to complete the spell,” he said. “The second your feet touched down in the market, I knew who you were.”
<<if $beginningroute == "tunnelescape">>“When you saw me in that cage, you knew me?”
He smiled wanly. “Why else do you think I would even approach?”<</if>>
“You’ve always known me then. From the second we first met, through those initial days, right down to when I was searching for answers as to why I came here. You //always// knew?”
I took a step back from him, feeling my heart thundering in my chest. He had lied from the beginning about //everything// and the sheer weight of that, at how easily I had believed him, left me breathless. <<if $miloro == "true">>From the second he first turned his eyes my way, he had begun his game and I followed him around like a dog on a leash.<</if>>
[[You asshole]]
[[So what? I’m here to keep the gates from opening?]]
[[You should have been honest from the beginning]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[You used me]]<</if>>
“You asshole.” I tried to keep the shakiness from my voice. I wasn’t sure if it was anger or betrayal or down right sorrow that was trembling my words but I knew in that moment that Milo Next was not the man I had come to known. <<if $miloro == "true">>The man that had made me laugh felt far more like a facade now. Just an echo of someone who had done nothing but deceive me.<</if>>
“I’m pretty sure I told you that’s who I was when I first met you,” he mused. “Or if I didn’t I’m sure someone else did. This is a well known fact, sugar. Why are you so surprised?”
It felt like defeat, somehow. The fact that he didn’t trust me and didn’t understand how I could say this to him now, gave little room to continue the conversation. Not like this, at least.
I shook my head. I needed a moment. I couldn’t sit here and listen to this bullshit. I couldn’t pretend that this was okay. Everything that he greeted me with felt like a dance around. A reason for why he lied and why he was //right// for doing so. I just couldn’t stomach it further. <<if $miloro == "true">> I had grown so used to looking into those eyes for comfort and understanding that the mocking coldness that was there now gutted me.<</if>>
“If I walk out of here are you going to disappear again?”
Milo shook his head. “No.”
“I don’t know if I can believe you.”
“That’s actually probably incredibly intelligent of you,” he smirked. I wanted to wipe the smile off his face. Wanted for this all to end. For this moment to have never happened.
“Malcolm’s back, by the way,” I said. It felt like the only weapon I might have against him. Something to fling at him in a last ditch attempt to get him to fucking just care.
His expression didn’t change, but I still saw it. The brief flash of panic in his eyes. “So she did it then.”
[[Yeah, and you weren’t there]]
[[Why did you doubt her]]
[[She could have died]]
“So what’s the plan, Milo. You brought me here to keep the gates from opening? Because if that’s the case, you already failed. According to Gabriel, they have been opening far more since my arrival. Something, the Gatekeeper would know. So, why not tell us? Say something so we could figure it out together? Any one of us would have helped you, you know that right? Hazel. Bella. Gabriel. Any one of us would have worked with you. Protected you.”
He laughed. “You think I need protecting? Darlin’, I’ve been taking care of myself since I could walk.”
“And look what a fine job you are doing now,” I sneered. “Out here in the cold. Locked out from your family and friends. Because of what? Pride?”
He didn’t flinch. Not visibly. But I could feel it all the same. As if it were a shock through the air. “I had hoped you would understand and that we could have a civil conversation but I can see that might not be happening.”
It felt like defeat, somehow. The fact that he didn’t trust me and didn’t understand how I could say this to him now, gave little room to continue the conversation. Not like this, at least.
I shook my head. I needed a moment. I couldn’t sit here and listen to this bullshit. I couldn’t pretend that this was okay. Everything that he greeted me with felt like a dance around. A reason for why he lied and why he was //right// for doing so. I just couldn’t stomach it further. <<if $miloro == "true">> I had grown so used to looking into those eyes for comfort and understanding that the mocking coldness that was there now gutted me.<</if>>
“If I walk out of here are you going to disappear again?”
Milo shook his head. “No.”
“I don’t know if I can believe you.”
“That’s actually probably incredibly intelligent of you,” he smirked. I wanted to wipe the smile off his face. Wanted for this all to end. For this moment to have never happened.
“Malcolm’s back, by the way,” I said. It felt like the only weapon I might have against him. Something to fling at him in a last ditch attempt to get him to fucking just care.
His expression didn’t change, but I still saw it. The brief flash of panic in his eyes. “So she did it then.”
[[Yeah, and you weren’t there]]
[[Why did you doubt her]]
[[She could have died]]
“You should have been honest with me from the beginning,” I told him. Not that it seemed to matter.
“Really?” he laughed bitterly. “Because you would have believed me? Because you wouldn't have tried to stop me? I told you not to meddle with all this and everyone dismissed my warning.”
“Because we didn’t have the full context,” I shouted.
“And without knowing you, I was expected to have the full context? To just trust that you’d do all this my way? I’m the Gatekeeper, $name. You spout that to anyone and you could get someone I care for killed.”
<<if $miloro == "true">>”I thought I was one of those people,” I told him. He didn’t answer though. He didn’t say anything to that.<</if>>
It felt like defeat, somehow. The fact that he didn’t trust me and didn’t understand how I could say this to him now, gave little room to continue the conversation. Not like this, at least.
I shook my head. I needed a moment. I couldn’t sit here and listen to this bullshit. I couldn’t pretend that this was okay. Everything that he greeted me with felt like a dance around. A reason for why he lied and why he was //right// for doing so. I just couldn’t stomach it further. <<if $miloro == "true">> I had grown so used to looking into those eyes for comfort and understanding that the mocking coldness that was there now gutted me.<</if>>
“If I walk out of here are you going to disappear again?”
Milo shook his head. “No.”
“I don’t know if I can believe you.”
“That’s actually probably incredibly intelligent of you,” he smirked. I wanted to wipe the smile off his face. Wanted for this all to end. For this moment to have never happened.
“Malcolm’s back, by the way,” I said. It felt like the only weapon I might have against him. Something to fling at him in a last ditch attempt to get him to fucking just care.
His expression didn’t change, but I still saw it. The brief flash of panic in his eyes. “So she did it then.”
[[Yeah, and you weren’t there]]
[[Why did you doubt her]]
[[She could have died]]
I stared at him for a long moment, trying my hardest to merge the image of the man standing in front of me, with the one I had spent the last few months with. How was this the one who had laughed with me? Who had held my hand so tight after the Deep. The cold and mirthless stare he was giving me now showed no reflection of the man who had held me only a few nights ago. This wasn’t the one who had sat by my bed all night and had curled around me so soft and secure and whispered stories into my ear.
I shook my head. “You used me,” I whispered. “You saw an opportunity to keep me from discovering whatever this thing was and you just used me for your own pleasure, didn’t you.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes staying locked on mine. He reached for a cigarette. The one he had always had behind his ear. But it wasn’t there anymore. He had already burned it, the smell of tobacco dissipating around us.
“If that’s what you need to believe, I’m not going to tell you otherwise,” he said.
“I want you to tell me what I meant to you,” I shouted. “I want you to be honest with me. Just for a single minute, be fucking honest with me.”
When he didn’t say anything, I realized it wasn’t because he couldn’t, but simply because he didn’t want to. Was I worth so little of his time?
It felt like defeat, somehow. The fact that he didn’t trust me and didn’t understand how I could say this to him now, gave little room to continue the conversation. Not like this, at least.
I shook my head. I needed a moment. I couldn’t sit here and listen to this bullshit. I couldn’t pretend that this was okay. Everything that he greeted me with felt like a dance around. A reason for why he lied and why he was //right// for doing so. I just couldn’t stomach it further. <<if $miloro == "true">> I had grown so used to looking into those eyes for comfort and understanding that the mocking coldness that was there now gutted me.<</if>>
“If I walk out of here are you going to disappear again?”
Milo shook his head. “No.”
“I don’t know if I can believe you.”
“That’s actually probably incredibly intelligent of you,” he smirked. I wanted to wipe the smile off his face. Wanted for this all to end. For this moment to have never happened.
“Malcolm’s back, by the way,” I said. It felt like the only weapon I might have against him. Something to fling at him in a last ditch attempt to get him to fucking just care.
His expression didn’t change, but I still saw it. The brief flash of panic in his eyes. “So she did it then.”
[[Yeah, and you weren’t there]]
[[Why did you doubt her]]
[[She could have died]]
“Yeah. And you weren’t there,” I said. Milo had always promised to be there for her and yet in the moment it may have mattered the most, he had stayed as far away as he could. “I was the one that found Hazel bloody and crying on the apothecary floor. For a man who made a promise to his dead lover to always protect her, you did a bang up job of it.”
“Aw, thanks, darlin’. So glad you approve.” I could hear the condescending tone. I was beginning to wonder if he even cared. <<if $hazelro == "true">> "But here's the thing that I'm hearing from all this. You //found// her. Meaning you weren't there either. Looks like we both maybe broke a promise there, yeah? So maybe don't go casting those hypocritical stones."<</if>>
I stared at him in utter disbelief. Did I know anything about this man?
“Well, I can see I’m interrupting something emotional.”
I turned. A man stood, framed in the arched doorway. He was on the shorter side, dressed in a suit of velvet green and black. An obsidian mask was across his face, covering his features in black and pearlescent accents. Two bone horns curled from the top, bells pierced upon them. I immediately thought of Belladonna and what she had warned me against. However, it was his smile that took hold of me. That alone was enough to give me pause. His grin was wide and cut through with glass.
Milo immediately stepped forward, his movements jerky.
“My apologies,” the man said. “I could hear you two from down where we were enjoying the party. Now Milo, you know that this is no place to have these types of conversations.” He leaned conspiratorially towards me. “I tried to get him to have this confrontation with you months ago but you know Milo, stubborn to boot.”
I blinked, the voice sounding familiar. The smell of peaches and chopped wood assaulting me. “Tallard?”
“You remember me?” He placed a gloved hand to his chest. The bells upon his mask jingled with each movement. “I’m honored. I am sorry, old chap, for such the run around that I had to do that day. Milo didn’t want me anywhere near you and I just needed to meet you for myself. The Night Market. How delightful. Will you have this dance with me?” he held out his hand, bowing gently.
“Taliesin,” Milo snapped. “This is not what we agreed on.”
<<if $miloro == "false">>“Frankly, dear Milo, I think you lost any sort of argument there when you started trying to double-cross people. Now, $name, I would be honored.”<<elseif $miloro == "true">> “Frankly, dear Milo, you lost any sort of argument there when you started fucking the Night Market. Now, $name. I would be honored.”<</if>>
I stared at the hand that was held out to me.
“$name, don’t.” Milo demanded.
[[Dance with Taliesin]]
[[Decline a dance]]
“Why did you even doubt her?” Hazel was far more powerful than I had originally given her credit for but I had only just come to know her. Milo should have known better.
“I didn’t,” he said simply. “I knew she’d get Malcolm back. I was just hoping it would take her a bit longer.”
My brow knotted in confusion. “Did you not want him back then?”
Milo shrugged. “What is dead should stay dead, yeah? Mal was gone. Little cruel to bring a dead man back into a world he has no place in anymore.”
I stared at him in utter disbelief. Did I know anything about this man?
“Well, I can see I’m interrupting something emotional.”
I turned. A man stood, framed in the arched doorway. He was on the shorter side, dressed in a suit of velvet green and black. An obsidian mask was across his face, covering his features in black and pearlescent accents. Two bone horns curled from the top, bells pierced upon them. I immediately thought of Belladonna and what she had warned me against. However, it was his smile that took hold of me. That alone was enough to give me pause. His grin was wide and cut through with glass.
Milo immediately stepped forward, his movements jerky.
“My apologies,” the man said. “I could hear you two from down where we were enjoying the party. Now Milo, you know that this is no place to have these types of conversations.” He leaned conspiratorially towards me. “I tried to get him to have this confrontation with you months ago but you know Milo, stubborn to boot.”
I blinked, the voice sounding familiar. The smell of peaches and chopped wood assaulting me. “Tallard?”
“You remember me?” He placed a gloved hand to his chest. The bells upon his mask jingled with each movement. “I’m honored. I am sorry, old chap, for such the run around that I had to do that day. Milo didn’t want me anywhere near you and I just needed to meet you for myself. The Night Market. How delightful. Will you have this dance with me?” he held out his hand, bowing gently.
“Taliesin,” Milo snapped. “This is not what we agreed on.”
<<if $miloro == "false">>“Frankly, dear Milo, I think you lost any sort of argument there when you started trying to double-cross people. Now, $name, I would be honored.”<<elseif $miloro == "true">> “Frankly, dear Milo, you lost any sort of argument there when you started fucking the Night Market. Now, $name. I would be honored.”<</if>>
I stared at the hand that was held out to me.
“$name, don’t.” Milo demanded.
[[Dance with Taliesin]]
[[Decline a dance]]
“She could have died,” I told him. “The only thing that kept her going after that ritual was magic.”
“And you think I haven’t been trying to stop her from doing the damn thing from the beginning?” he asked, brows shot through his hairline. “I have been arguing with her on it for ten years. Because she was the one that was alive, $name. Not Mal. And I wasn’t going to see her die in replacement of him.”
“Then you should have been there,” I snapped.
“You know what? I wish I had. Because the second that damn gate opened I would have snapped it shut again.” It hit me with such a force. The idea that he would have sabatoged what she had worked so long for. Killing Malcolm all over again. <<if $hazelro == "true">> "And here's the thing that I'm hearing, while we're at it. You //found// her. Meaning you weren't there either. Looks like we both maybe broke a promise there, yeah? So maybe don't go casting your hypocritical stones."<</if>>
I stared at him in utter disbelief. Did I know anything about this man?
“Well, I can see I’m interrupting something emotional.”
I turned. A man stood, framed in the arched doorway. He was on the shorter side, dressed in a suit of velvet green and black. An obsidian mask was across his face, covering his features in black and pearlescent accents. Two bone horns curled from the top, bells pierced upon them. I immediately thought of Belladonna and what she had warned me against. However, it was his smile that took hold of me. That alone was enough to give me pause. His grin was wide and cut through with glass.
Milo immediately stepped forward, his movements jerky.
“My apologies,” the man said. “I could hear you two from down where we were enjoying the party. Now Milo, you know that this is no place to have these types of conversations.” He leaned conspiratorially towards me. “I tried to get him to have this confrontation with you months ago but you know Milo, stubborn to boot.”
I blinked, the voice sounding familiar. The smell of peaches and chopped wood assaulting me. “Tallard?”
“You remember me?” He placed a gloved hand to his chest. The bells upon his mask jingled with each movement. “I’m honored. I am sorry, old chap, for such the run around that I had to do that day. Milo didn’t want me anywhere near you and I just needed to meet you for myself. The Night Market. How delightful. Will you have this dance with me?” he held out his hand, bowing gently.
“Taliesin,” Milo snapped. “This is not what we agreed on.”
<<if $miloro == "false">>“Frankly, dear Milo, I think you lost any sort of argument there when you started trying to double-cross people. Now, $name, I would be honored.”<<elseif $miloro == "true">> “Frankly, dear Milo, you lost any sort of argument there when you started fucking the Night Market. Now, $name. I would be honored.”<</if>>
I stared at the hand that was held out to me.
“$name, don’t.” Milo demanded.
[[Dance with Taliesin]]
[[Decline a dance]]
Looking at Taliesin, I took his hand. I just needed a moment. A step away from it all. And I felt far safer downstairs in a room full of people right now, than alone with Milo on a balcony. Perhaps I shouldn’t have, given the warnings I had received and the small things I knew about the Baron now leading me down the grand staircase. But standing out there for any longer, was bringing our conversation nowhere quick.
“Apologies for how this ball is going for you,” Taliesin said, still holding my arm. “I assure you, not all my soiree’s are like this. I had rather you be a guest of honor here. Though, I do understand that keeping your identity under wraps is far more pressing than my prestige. But truly, $name. I am honored.”
I thought back to the day I had met him. The older gentleman who the curled hand and the milky eyes. The one who needed my help. He was not that at all. Taliesin weaved around people with the barest of ease, guiding me down the grand staircase, the two of us clearly on display. My eyes ticked down towards the bar where the others were located. Gabriel already stood at attention and Belladonna’s eyes were not leaving the two of us. Even Hazel looked as if she were ready to fight. I wondered how much she had smuggled in to help her if things got rough.
“That day,” I said slowly. “When I made you tea. That wasn’t your house, was it.”
Taliesin laughed. “No. By the land no. I was borrowing it. Like I said, I wished to see you. I had gotten a summons from a Ms. Malady. But I couldn’t very well just invite you here.”
As we approached the dance floor, Taliesin took my hands in his and began spinning me around the room in a faster pace version of a waltz. I felt my head spinning. The dizzying speed at which I fell into our dance had me uneven on my feet, along with the surreal conversation I had just had up above. I felt sick and I desperately wished I had declined this dance.
“I can see that head of yours spinning,” Taliesin said. “He is a boy that does that, isn’t he?” With each step, the bells upon his horns rang. Others were giving us a wide berth, eyes skimming over the pair of us while whispers were traded behind concealed palms. “Don’t let him get to you. In the end, aren’t we all just trying to navigate life as best we can?” Taliesin spun me outwards with a flourish before pulling me back in again. I saw the milky white of one of his eyes but the other was crystal clear.
[[Are you two working together]]
[[I think I need some fresh air]]
[[That day at the cabin, why did you use a false name]]
I looked between the two of them, caught between two sets of eyes that were all too intent on keeping me within their clutches. I didn’t want to be a part of it though. I didn’t want to be out here with either of them and I certainly did not want to be dancing with a man who I had just been warned against.
“No,” I said to Taliesin. I didn’t even feel bad about declining. Instead, I brushed past him and back into the ballroom. If Taliesin and Milo were working together, then they could sit on that balcony together and scramble for what they were going to do next. Either way, I was taking a moment for myself.
I walked down the staircase, my eyes drifting towards where I had left the others at the bar. They all had their gazes intent on me but I shook my head subtly at them. I just needed a moment. I would tell them what Milo had said but for right now, I wanted fresh air more than anything else.
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve Alt route Milo]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve B End]]
<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve G End]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve H End]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve Alt route Milo]]<</if>>“Are you two working together?” They held an air of familiarity with each other that was undeniable. Though, I didn’t get the sense that it was a friendly relationship, whatever it was. But Milo had invited me here, to the last Baron’s ball. I couldn’t just overlook that small detail.
“We are,” Taliesin said with a grin. I could see that his teeth had been replaced, his gums having healed over the jagged edges of reinforced glass. “Have been off an on for quite some time. He was so lost when he became Gatekeeper. Didn’t know what he was to do. I helped fill a bit of a void for him, I suspect. Then, when he told me what he wanted to do for the Night Market, well, how could I refuse?"
Twirling me, I felt the lights above become too bright. My skin far too hot. But the only thing I continued to hear and see was Taliesin as he gave me the explanation that I couldn’t even pry out of Milo.
“We are not so different in our goals, $name,” he said gently.
“We’re not?”
“No,” he pulled me close to him. "Our thoughts and desires align. We both wish to save you. To save the Night Market, more accurately. That is what you and your friends are trying to do, correct? I got Ms. Malady’s request for an audience. I was going to respond but, well, I do like my drama. I am so sorry, my dear. The flare for the dramatics got to me.”
“So you want to help us?” My eyes ticked towards where I thought Belladonna might have been but I felt disoriented. With each twirl I felt like I was losing sight of who was to be on my side and who I should look to for trust.
“Don’t I live here too?” he reasoned. “Don’t we all walk the same streets? Breathe the same air? Drink from the markets depths? Why, my dear, would I ever want this party to end? Especially when you perform so beautifully.”
“What do you mean?”
The jingle of bells continued to echo through my ears, ringing over and over and whiting out the music and laughter behind me. The room was blurring, the lines of color all running together, and before me was Taliesin. Greying skin peeked out from beneath his mask of perfection while the opulence around me seemed to send his own attire into one of splendor.
“Oh, come now,” he whispered, just for me. “Do you not remember yet?” I stared at him blankly, feeling something slam against the walls in my mind. Searching for the cracks. The ones that caused pain.
“If it is something I’m supposed to remember, I haven’t unlocked that yet,” I told him. “It hurts to do so.” The few little things I had managed to unlock while with Malcolm had banged against me for days. The headaches I had been nursing for the last few months were nothing more than my own mind trying to break, screaming at me to just //remember//.
“Oh, I can help with that.” Reaching up, Taliesin flicked one of his bells, the chime slamming through me and peeling back a layer. I could see it in my mind. A slow curl of light that fell away. I saw me looking down on the expanse of existence, watching the life that danced in the streets and seeing a man kneeling, blood on his palm and darkness in his eyes.
“You chose to come here,” Taliesin said. “You. The item he was trying to call forth was not human.” My vision cleared, staring at the Baron before me now, my breath labored in my chest. “Oh, Milo was probably trying to call forth something mundane. An orb. Maybe he was trying to be ironic and he wanted a lantern. But instead, you looked at that mess of the man and said, I’ll do you one better.” We stopped spinning, standing in a spotlight in the middle of the dance floor, the rest of the dancers having drifted off to the side. “It was your choice to cut out a piece of you and walk among us,” Taliesin said with glee. “And I find that absolutely delightful.”
I remembered it. There was no effort to refute his words. I knew it as sure as the beat of my heart and the pulse that reverberated through each glowing lantern. The lanterns that were slowly, going out.
“That’s enough.” Milo’s voice cracked across the room, a sizzle of magic sending a crack through the banister. He stood on the mezzanine still, arms braced as they had been when I had first arrived, though now, he only had eyes for Taliesin. And I could see something burning behind his amber gaze as the room fell to a hush.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Do you wish to cut in? One more dance for the lovers?” Taliesin grinned. “Go ahead, Milo. You deserved this.” Taliesin released me walking away with a bow, his bells jingling.<<elseif $miloro == "false">> "We were just conversing, Milo. Rather posessive of you to interupt," Taliesin grinned. "But, by all means, continue that conversation of yours." Taliesin released me walking away with a bow, his bells jingling.<</if>>
I stood there then. Just me. A shifting light of amber drifting around me. Feeling as if I couldn’t breathe, I raced from the room, bursting out of one of the many side doors and sucking in deep lungfuls of night air, the cloying scent of peaches firmly stuck in my nose.
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve Alt route Milo]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve B End]]
<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve G End]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve H End]]
<<elseif $platonic == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve Alt route Milo]]<</if>>“I need some air,” I told him. I shouldn’t have come out here with him. I had let Milo’s words drive me off and my curiosity about this last Baron to override what I knew in my gut was the wrong move to make. But as I spoke, as I tried to pull away, I felt stuck. Taliesin’s hand tightened around me and we continued to spin across the dance floor. Effortlessly he guided me between people, spinning me around the room.
“Now, $name,” he admonished. “I’ve been waiting for this meeting for a long time. A very long time indeed. I can’t just let you run off so quickly. Not when we have the same goal.”
I winced, the lights around me suddenly feeling too bright, my skin too tight. “The same goal?”
“To save the market, of course,” Taliesin crooned. “That is what you and your friends are trying to do, correct? I got Ms. Malady’s request for an audience. I was going to respond but, well, I do like my drama. I am so sorry, my dear. The flare for the dramatics got to me.”
“So you want to help us?” My eyes ticked towards where I thought Belladonna might have been but I felt disoriented. With each twirl I felt like I was losing sight of who was to be on my side and who I should look to for trust.
“Don’t I live here too?” he reasoned. “Don’t we all walk the same streets? Breathe the same air? Drink from the markets depths? Why, my dear, would I ever want this party to end? Especially when you perform so beautifully.”
“What do you mean?”
The jingle of bells continued to echo through my ears, ringing over and over and whiting out the music and laughter behind me. The room was blurring, the lines of color all running together, and before me was Taliesin. Greying skin peeked out from beneath his mask of perfection while the opulence around me seemed to send his own attire into one of splendor.
“Oh, come now,” he whispered, just for me. “Do you not remember yet?” I stared at him blankly, feeling something slam against the walls in my mind. Searching for the cracks. The ones that caused pain.
“If it is something I’m supposed to remember, I haven’t unlocked that yet,” I told him. “It hurts to do so.” The few little things I had managed to unlock while with Malcolm had banged against me for days. The headaches I had been nursing for the last few months were nothing more than my own mind trying to break, screaming at me to just //remember//.
“Oh, I can help with that.” Reaching up, Taliesin flicked one of his bells, the chime slamming through me and peeling back a layer. I could see it in my mind. A slow curl of light that fell away. I saw me looking down on the expanse of existence, watching the life that danced in the streets and seeing a man kneeling, blood on his palm and darkness in his eyes.
“You chose to come here,” Taliesin said. “You. The item he was trying to call forth was not human.” My vision cleared, staring at the Baron before me now, my breath labored in my chest. “Oh, Milo was probably trying to call forth something mundane. An orb. Maybe he was trying to be ironic and he wanted a lantern. But instead, you looked at that mess of the man and said, I’ll do you one better.” We stopped spinning, standing in a spotlight in the middle of the dance floor, the rest of the dancers having drifted off to the side. “It was your choice to cut out a piece of you and walk among us,” Taliesin said with glee. “And I find that absolutely delightful.”
I remembered it. There was no effort to refute his words. I knew it as sure as the beat of my heart and the pulse that reverberated through each glowing lantern. The lanterns that were slowly, going out.
“That’s enough.” Milo’s voice cracked across the room, a sizzle of magic sending a crack through the banister. He stood on the mezzanine still, arms braced as they had been when I had first arrived, though now, he only had eyes for Taliesin. And I could see something burning behind his amber gaze as the room fell to a hush.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Do you wish to cut in? One more dance for the lovers?” Taliesin grinned. “Go ahead, Milo. You deserved this.” Taliesin released me walking away with a bow, his bells jingling.<<elseif $miloro == "false">> "We were just conversing, Milo. Rather posessive of you to interupt," Taliesin grinned. "But, by all means, continue that conversation of yours." Taliesin released me walking away with a bow, his bells jingling.<</if>>
I stood there then. Just me. A shifting light of amber drifting around me. Feeling as if I couldn’t breathe, I raced from the room, bursting out of one of the many side doors and sucking in deep lungfuls of night air, the cloying scent of peaches firmly stuck in my nose.
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve Alt route Milo]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve B End]]
<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve G End]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve H End]]
<<elseif $platonic == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve Alt route Milo]]<</if>>“Why play along?” I asked. “That day at the cabin. Why give me a different name? Why do any of this? You could have just told me what was happening.” It felt like the question of the hour. Why was there so much deceit? Was it simply for some grand show?
“If it is any consolation, Taliesin is not my given name,” the man said, not missing a beat in our dance with each other. “Going by Tallard just felt right. And you have to look at it from my position as well. I did not know you. I had only heard of you from Milo. The things he was claiming you were felt like a reach even to me. I needed to see you. Make sure the con artist was not conning.”
“What do you need me for?” I asked, my throat dry.
“To save the market, of course. That is what you and your friends are trying to do, correct? I got Ms. Malady’s request for an audience. I was going to respond but, well, I do like my drama. I am so sorry, my dear. The flare for the dramatics got to me.”
“So you want to help us?” My eyes ticked towards where I thought Belladonna might have been but I felt disoriented. With each twirl I felt like I was losing sight of who was to be on my side and who I should look to for trust.
“Don’t I live here too?” he reasoned. “Don’t we all walk the same streets? Breathe the same air? Drink from the markets depths? Why, my dear, would I ever want this party to end? Especially when you perform so beautifully.”
“What do you mean?”
The jingle of bells continued to echo through my ears, ringing over and over and whiting out the music and laughter behind me. The room was blurring, the lines of color all running together, and before me was Taliesin. Greying skin peeked out from beneath his mask of perfection while the opulence around me seemed to send his own attire into one of splendor.
“Oh, come now,” he whispered, just for me. “Do you not remember yet?” I stared at him blankly, feeling something slam against the walls in my mind. Searching for the cracks. The ones that caused pain.
“If it is something I’m supposed to remember, I haven’t unlocked that yet,” I told him. “It hurts to do so.” The few little things I had managed to unlock while with Malcolm had banged against me for days. The headaches I had been nursing for the last few months were nothing more than my own mind trying to break, screaming at me to just //remember//.
“Oh, I can help with that.” Reaching up, Taliesin flicked one of his bells, the chime slamming through me and peeling back a layer. I could see it in my mind. A slow curl of light that fell away. I saw me looking down on the expanse of existence, watching the life that danced in the streets and seeing a man kneeling, blood on his palm and darkness in his eyes.
“You chose to come here,” Taliesin said. “You. The item he was trying to call forth was not human.” My vision cleared, staring at the Baron before me now, my breath labored in my chest. “Oh, Milo was probably trying to call forth something mundane. An orb. Maybe he was trying to be ironic and he wanted a lantern. But instead, you looked at that mess of the man and said, I’ll do you one better.” We stopped spinning, standing in a spotlight in the middle of the dance floor, the rest of the dancers having drifted off to the side. “It was your choice to cut out a piece of you and walk among us,” Taliesin said with glee. “And I find that absolutely delightful.”
I remembered it. There was no effort to refute his words. I knew it as sure as the beat of my heart and the pulse that reverberated through each glowing lantern. The lanterns that were slowly, going out.
“That’s enough.” Milo’s voice cracked across the room, a sizzle of magic sending a crack through the banister. He stood on the mezzanine still, arms braced as they had been when I had first arrived, though now, he only had eyes for Taliesin. And I could see something burning behind his amber gaze as the room fell to a hush.
<<if $miloro == "true">>“Do you wish to cut in? One more dance for the lovers?” Taliesin grinned. “Go ahead, Milo. You deserved this.” Taliesin released me walking away with a bow, his bells jingling.<<elseif $miloro == "false">> "We were just conversing, Milo. Rather posessive of you to interupt," Taliesin grinned. "But, by all means, continue that conversation of yours." Taliesin released me walking away with a bow, his bells jingling.<</if>>
I stood there then. Just me. A shifting light of amber drifting around me. Feeling as if I couldn’t breathe, I raced from the room, bursting out of one of the many side doors and sucking in deep lungfuls of night air, the cloying scent of peaches firmly stuck in my nose.
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve Alt route Milo]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve B End]]
<<elseif $gabrielro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve G End]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve H End]]
<<elseif $platonic == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Twelve Alt route Milo]]<</if>>The music swelled behind me, returning once more as people began to fill the dance floor and go about their revelry. I wished to distance myself from it. If only for a moment.
I walked down a small set of steps, the light from the estate not reaching this more secluded area. There was a small koi pond here with cuts of emerald glass for lily pads. I watched as a frog hopped across them, they too looking as if he were made of some sort of stone. Nothing here looked real. Everything was designed for distraction. I could feel the headache that had been a dull noise in my mind for some time now, booming anew with all the reflected light.
<<if $ever == "true">>“$name?”
I blinked. Turning, I looked around the small little offshoot of the gemstone courtyard, looking for the small voice.
“Oh, I’m over here.”
Ever. The little ghost girl that haunted the outskirts of Milo’s place. She looked at me from a lower level, just outside the courtyard. Her small feet paced back and forth, but didn’t quite touch the ground. Beneath her, wafts of frost spread out before the earth warmed them away. She looked distressed.
Taking the few flights of steps down to her, I stood on the landing, looking at her weary little form. “Ever,” I started. “What are you doing here?” More importantly, how was she here to begin with. Spirits were not able to leave the spots in which they died. They couldn’t wander the market like the rest of us.
“I don’t know,” she said, eyes wide. Her skin was still the pallor of death and her hair bounced around her in almost slow motion. As if they were swaying within water. “I just thought that I could leave and then I could. I’ve been wandering the market for a few days now.”
“A few days?” My heart stopped at the idea that she had been weaving in and out of the lonely streets all on her own. A child, lost in this world.
She nodded to me. “I’m trying to find my dad.” I could see it now, a little locket clutched in her hand. It was in the shape of a heart and was nothing ornate. It didn’t even look like it was a type of metal that could withstand the test of time.
“Your dad?” I asked.
She nodded. “I lost him when I died. He never knew what happened to me. I’ve always thought about what I would do if I was able to get free and the first thing I wanted to do is find him. I just don’t know where to even look.” She was casting her eyes back and forth, as if to search every face within the market. I didn’t know when she had died nor if she had been native to the Night Market itself. It felt like an impossible task. Still, I wanted to help her.
“Is that a picture of him?” I asked, nodding towards the locket.
She perked up a little. “Oh! Yes. Here. Maybe you’ll recognize him.” Her hands were chilled as she placed the necklace within my hand. With the tip of my nail, I pried it open, careful not to ruin the family keepsake she had.
My heart dropped.
A set of severe eyes looked back at me, belonging to a man with an angular face framed with dirty blond hair. The same face I had seen stomp on his own son's hands, watching as that little boy ran off into the market, never to be seen by him again.
I looked up at Ever with horror. “This is your dad?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes. Do you know him?”
[[(lie)I’m sorry. I don’t]]
[[Have you shown this to Milo?]]
[[Ever, I don’t think he is here in the Night Market anymore]] <<elseif $ever == "false">>There was a little girl dancing not too far from me. She was twirling to the sound of the music, clutching something to her chest. Her feet were bare, and her dress was in tatters by her feet. I leaned against one of the courtyard walls, watching her, wondering if she was a guest or another lost spirit, wandering this realm with little choice but to continue on. Thus far, the spirits were among some of the saddest things about the Night Market. Dead but with little ability to move on. All because Milo couldn’t seem to open the gates to the wells and let them back through.
Or, at least that’s how I understood it.
I watched her for I didn’t know how long. Occasionally, when someone passed she showed them her locket but they barely glanced her way. Eventually, she wandered off, the smile still present on her face as she skipped through the hedges.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Milo’s voice came from behind me, rough with cigarette smoke and barely rising over the sounds of the ball.
“I wasn’t alone,” I told him. “There was a ghost girl here a few moments ago.” Turning, I looked at him, crossing my arms protectively over my chest. He was backlit by, the light from inside the château bouncing off the gemstone trees. This would have been beautiful in any other situation. But tonight, it gave a wild sense of foreboding that was curling around my bones. Like I knew what was going to happen but hadn’t quite put all the pieces together yet.
Slowly, he walked towards me, keeping his movements steady as if he was afraid he’d spook me. Running was never an option though. Not from him. Not from what needed to be said. The soft music from the ball filtered out, something chiming and melancholy.
Milo swallowed thickly, holding out his hand. “Ready for that talk now?"
Was I? There was a finality to it that was growing harder and harder to ignore. But this was what I came here for and at least, away from the glittering lights of the ballroom, I could hear myself think. "Yeah," I told him. "Got someplace in mind?"
“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can have this conversation properly.”
He led me back up a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me too, so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]<</if>>
“Breathe, my heart.” Belladonna was suddenly there, arm looped in mine as she pressed a drink in my hands. The liquid within the glass sloshed back and forth as my fingers shook with the effort to keep myself under control. The room seemed too loud, the lights far too bright. I could feel the gathering of cold sweat on my brow as Belladonna mercifully led me through the room and seated me at the end of the bar.
“Leave.”
I wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but the air became breathable again at her tone. I clung to it as I watched the shuffle of skirts and coat tails out of the corner of my eye, people began to disperse. I didn’t lift my head until I felt her sit down next to me.
“That should leave us to it for a bit,” she stated. “Turn and keep your back to the bar, dear. It helps keep people from getting the idea they can sneak up on you.” Slowly, I turned in my stool, mimicking the way she sat, her spine glued to the edge of the bar. Belladonna had one leg crossed over the other, swirling the contents of the wine in her glass. She looked bored but I knew she was taking everything in. Belladonna was in business mode. The kind of persona she got when she was not inside the safety of her room. This Belladonna held herself straight. Her eyes were piercing. The stage was set and she was simply looking for the opening to become the puppet master.
“And what was our dear Milo’s explanation for his actions?”
[[He is trying to save me]]
[[I’m not sure I fully understand it]]
[[He doesn’t have one. He is in over his head]]
“$name,” Gabriel called out to me, following me outside the scope of the party. His hand fell to my shoulder, turning me in one swift motion so I could be pulled into his embrace. I breathed deeply, trying to take in the comforting scent of him.
“What happened?”
I shook my head. “He’s the Gatekeeper,” I said. “He’s known who I was all along. He was the one that brought me here, Gabriel.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. He says he’s trying to save the market. I just…” I trailed off. “I needed a minute. I plan to continue the conversation with him but I needed a minute. He is infuriating.”
Gabriel glanced back the way I came, searching the crowd for Milo. “I will go and speak with him.”
I grabbed his hand. “Gabriel, no. The last thing we need to do is make a scene. He brought us to this ball on purpose.”
“Exactly. He assumes we will not take action against him here in an effort not to out him, but I do not care if–”
“In an effort not to out me. To out //me//, Gabriel.” He stopped his journey towards the stairs that would take him to Milo. He knew I was right. Milo didn’t call us here for anything other than an assurance that if things got bad, we could not make a scene. We could not act against him. Because eyes and ears were everywhere and they would most certainly wonder why someone like me, an insignificant face within the market, was worth fighting over. Given how Milo had been acting recently, he may even have something up his sleeve to make the situation far worse if Gabriel attempted anything.
When Gabriel turned back towards me, his eyes were inflamed with silver, cracks shining down his cheeks in faint shreds. There was a soft buzzing noise, as if a gnat had entered my ear and I immediately stumbled back, the sight and sounds suddenly feeling like a punch.
“Gabriel, my son.” Elias appeared from inside the chateau, coming to Gabriel’s side as if he had been summoned. I had been so wrapped up in the conversation that I had not seen him. I had not even known he was here. “A walk perhaps?”
With a surprising grip, Elias took Gabriel’s arm and began leading him away. The lights of the ballroom began to dim as Elias took us down two steps and towards a stretch of bushes. I followed after, watching as Gabriel jerked his arm away, nearly turning on his heel just to head back towards the party. “Not now, Elias,” he said, voice far gruffer with the man than it had been when we visited him at the estate.
“You need to calm down, Gabriel,” Elias said through a false grin. I could see the panic though.
“What are you going to do if I don't, Baron? Call on your dolls?”
“To drag you back to my estate and sedate you? Yes. Yes, son. That is exactly what I will be doing if you continue to burn off some of your grace in the anger that you are experiencing.”
I looked between the two of them, my eyes falling on the light that was burning away his skin. It glowed from beneath, lighting the dark pallor of his hands unnaturally. “Gabriel?”
Gabriel was seething, breathing in and out with measured breaths. When Elias turned to me, it was with the plastered grin of perfection. “If you know a way to calm him, I would suggest doing it now.”
[[Gabriel, I am safe. You are safe]]
[[Gabriel, you are not helping. Calm down]]
[[Take his hand firmly in your own]]
“Oh, $name.”
Hazel’s voice was a gentle sigh from behind me. I could feel it ghost across my back in a caress as she came rushing out of the ballroom and towards me. I felt her hand reach out before it even touched me, little currents of power shifting around us. When I turned, she looked up at me with abject worry, tears already forming in her eyes.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, eyes searching me out.
“No,” I told her. “No, I just… I needed a minute.” The oppressive nature of the ballroom, the lights, the dancing, the heat from all the bodies. I just needed the fresh air. The glittering gemstone bushes and trees that surrounded me felt chilling in a way that rubbed at my skin wrong, however. With each brush of wind they chimed with laughter and I couldn’t help but feel as if they were thousands of eyes, all upon me. “Would you like to go for a walk?” I asked her, feeling the sudden urge to be far, far away from this party.
Without hesitation, Hazel took my hand.
We walked downwards, navigating through the dozens of makeshift courtyards that Taliesin had erected all around his château. The place was designed specifically for secret rendezvous. Little pockets of mazes providing ample space for illicit affairs or sequestered conversations. They were all lined with shining gems that mimicked the natural greens of the world. While stunning, the more I walked within Taliesin’s so-called district, the more I couldn’t help but feel as if it were fake. A careful design of perfection.
“How did it go?” Hazel’s voice was so soft and hesitant that there was no way I could have misinterpreted who she was talking about.
[[I think he has betrayed us]]
[[I think he is in over his head]]
[[I’m not sure what to think]]
Numbly, I handed the locket back to her. It suddenly felt so much heavier in my hands. The image of the man inside one I didn’t think I could forget.
Kneeling before the little girl, I looked at her. I could see it now. When I had first met her I couldn’t help but think that she had looked familiar. That there was something about her that called to me. She was Milo’s sister. A younger and softer version of himself. My heart ached knowing she was dead. That she haunted the front door of her brother's home, still looking for a man who probably didn’t care about her own demise. Their father had abandoned both of them to the Night Market. Left them in a strange world. And while Milo had survived, Ever had not been so lucky.
“I’m sorry,” I lied to her. “I don’t know who he is.”
She nodded, as if already expecting as much. I got the feeling I was not the first person she had posed the question to either. “That’s okay,” she said. “You tried.” The reality was, I didn’t want her to know who he was. I didn’t want her near the man. Dead or not, I couldn’t subject this little girl to such cruelty. “I’ll keep looking,” she said with all the assurance of a small child. “And hey, now that I can wander the world, maybe I could see you more often. That would be nice. I like having friends.”
I smiled sadly at her. “Yeah, Ever. I’d really like that.”
She beamed back at me, her eyes glancing up at the opulent home before falling back towards my attire. “You look like you’re attending a party,” she giggled. “I’ll let you get back to that. Have fun dancing, okay? I just love to dance.”
I couldn’t say anything as she waved at me and walked away. Her form dissipated before I could get the words past my throat.
Standing, I looked at where she had disappeared for a long moment, the entirety of the night starting to feel like one bad dream that I couldn’t shake. As I turned, I saw Milo. He was standing a few flights above, red suit looking nearly black in the dim light of the courtyard, his eyes fixed sadly on where Ever had gone.
“She’s your sister,” I said numbly.
“Yeah.” I could hear the pain croaked in his voice. His eyes were wet as he stared after her.
“Does she know?”
He shook his head. “I never had the heart to tell her.” His face contorted into something broken and pained for a brief second before he looked at me again, taking in a deep breath. He had come to the garden looking for me, my small reprieve gone.
Slowly, he walked towards me, keeping his movements steady as if he was afraid he’d spook me. Running was never an option though. Not from him. Not from what needed to be said. The soft music from the ball filtered out, something chiming and melancholy.
<<if $miloro == "true">>Milo swallowed thickly, holding out his hand. “Dance with me,” he whispered, his eyes still sad.
[[Take his hand|Chapter Twelve take his hand]]
[[Tell him no]]<<elseif $platonic == "true">>Milo swallowed thickly, holding out his hand. “Ready for that talk now?"
Was I? There was a finality to it that was growing harder and harder to ignore. But this was what I came here for and at least, away from the glittering lights of the ballroom, I could hear myself think. "Yeah," I told him. "Got someplace in mind?"
“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can have this conversation properly.”
He led me back up a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me too, so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]<</if>>Numbly, I handed the locket back to her. It suddenly felt so much heavier in my hands. The image of the man inside one I didn’t think I could forget.
Kneeling before the little girl, I looked at her. I could see it now. When I had first met her I couldn’t help but think that she had looked familiar. That there was something about her that called to me. She was Milo’s sister. A younger and softer version of himself. My heart ached knowing she was dead. That she haunted the front door of her brother's home, still looking for a man who probably didn’t care about her own demise. Their father had abandoned both of them to the Night Market. Left them in a strange world. And while Milo had survived, Ever had not been so lucky.
“Ever,” I started, “have you ever shown this to Milo?”
Her eyes ticked away. “Yes. He got really sad. Then he told me to forget about him. I think he just felt bad though because he couldn’t help me. I asked for him to go looking for him, but Milo just kept telling me he wasn’t here anymore. That he had gone.”
I felt my stomach tighten at the thought. I wondered if Milo had even known who Ever was when she showed up, or if he had learned of his sibling the second he saw the locket. She had died in that alley though. Had she been looking for him?
“It’s okay,” Ever assured me, clutching the locket close. “I’ll just keep looking. I know Milo said he was gone, but that doesn’t mean he can’t come back. The Night Market is a pretty spectacular place, really. Don’t you think so, $name?”
I swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” I told her, not knowing what else I was supposed to say.
She beamed back at me, her eyes glancing up at the opulent home before falling back towards my attire. “You look like you’re attending a party,” she giggled. “I’ll let you get back to that. Have fun dancing, okay? I just love to dance.”
I couldn’t say anything as she waved at me and walked away. Her form dissipated before I could get the words past my throat.
Standing, I looked at where she had disappeared for a long moment, the entirety of the night starting to feel like one bad dream that I couldn’t shake. As I turned, I saw Milo. He was standing a few flights above, red suit looking nearly black in the dim light of the courtyard, his eyes fixed sadly on where Ever had gone.
“She’s your sister,” I said numbly.
“Yeah.” I could hear the pain croaked in his voice. His eyes were wet as he stared after her.
“Does she know?”
He shook his head. “I never had the heart to tell her.” His face contorted into something broken and pained for a brief second before he looked at me again, taking in a deep breath. He had come to the garden looking for me, my small reprieve gone.
Slowly, he walked towards me, keeping his movements steady as if he was afraid he’d spook me. Running was never an option though. Not from him. Not from what needed to be said. The soft music from the ball filtered out, something chiming and melancholy.
<<if $miloro == "true">>Milo swallowed thickly, holding out his hand. “Dance with me,” he whispered, his eyes still sad.
[[Take his hand|Chapter Twelve take his hand]]
[[Tell him no]]<<elseif $platonic == "true">>Milo swallowed thickly, holding out his hand. “Ready for that talk now?"
Was I? There was a finality to it that was growing harder and harder to ignore. But this was what I came here for and at least, away from the glittering lights of the ballroom, I could hear myself think. "Yeah," I told him. "Got someplace in mind?"
“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can have this conversation properly.”
He led me back up a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me too, so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]<</if>>Numbly, I handed the locket back to her. It suddenly felt so much heavier in my hands. The image of the man inside one I didn’t think I could forget.
Kneeling before the little girl, I looked at her. I could see it now. When I had first met her I couldn’t help but think that she had looked familiar. That there was something about her that called to me. She was Milo’s sister. A younger and softer version of himself. My heart ached knowing she was dead. That she haunted the front door of her brother's home, still looking for a man who probably didn’t care about her own demise. Their father had abandoned both of them to the Night Market. Left them in a strange world. And while Milo had survived, Ever had not been so lucky.
“Ever,” I began gently. “I don’t think this man is here. Not anymore.”
She frowned, looking down at the picture of her father. “Do you think he left the Night Market when he couldn’t find me?”
I swallowed thickly. “I just don’t think he’s in the Night Market anymore.” Given who Milo was now, I doubted this man was walking these streets, looking for either of his children.
“But he could be,” Ever said hopefully. “And Milo always said to keep hope.” Clutching the locket tight, she looked at me with a smile. “I’ll keep looking,” she said with all the assurance of a small child. “And hey, now that I can wander the world, maybe I could see you more often. That would be nice. I like having friends.”
I smiled sadly at her. “Yeah, Ever. I’d really like that.”
She beamed back at me, her eyes glancing up at the opulent home before falling back towards my attire. “You look like you’re attending a party,” she giggled. “I’ll let you get back to that. Have fun dancing, okay? I just love to dance.”
I couldn’t say anything as she waved at me and walked away. Her form dissipated before I could get the words past my throat.
Standing, I looked at where she had disappeared for a long moment, the entirety of the night starting to feel like one bad dream that I couldn’t shake. As I turned, I saw Milo. He was standing a few flights above, red suit looking nearly black in the dim light of the courtyard, his eyes fixed sadly on where Ever had gone.
“She’s your sister,” I said numbly.
“Yeah.” I could hear the pain croaked in his voice. His eyes were wet as he stared after her.
“Does she know?”
He shook his head. “I never had the heart to tell her.” His face contorted into something broken and pained for a brief second before he looked at me again, taking in a deep breath. He had come to the garden looking for me, my small reprieve gone.
Slowly, he walked towards me, keeping his movements steady as if he was afraid he’d spook me. Running was never an option though. Not from him. Not from what needed to be said. The soft music from the ball filtered out, something chiming and melancholy.
<<if $miloro == "true">>Milo swallowed thickly, holding out his hand. “Dance with me,” he whispered, his eyes still sad.
[[Take his hand|Chapter Twelve take his hand]]
[[Tell him no]]<<elseif $platonic == "true">>Milo swallowed thickly, holding out his hand. “Ready for that talk now?"
Was I? There was a finality to it that was growing harder and harder to ignore. But this was what I came here for and at least, away from the glittering lights of the ballroom, I could hear myself think. "Yeah," I told him. "Got someplace in mind?"
“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can have this conversation properly.”
He led me back up a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me too, so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]<</if>>“No,” I told him, feeling that single word shatter anything soft between us. “No, Milo. Not this time. Not after everything."
His hand fell, the silence passing between us. He didn’t look as if he faulted me for my refusal. If anything, he looked as if the rejection had been exactly what he expected.
"I feel like our entire relationship has been once big dance and I'm not doing it with you anymore," I said.
When the light of the paper moon caught his face again, the mask was there. Indifference towards our situation. We were not Milo and $name anymore but the Night Market and the Gatekeeper. It was a new role that I wasn’t sure how to navigate with him.
“Alright then,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Come on.”
"Where are we even going?" I demanded tiredly.
“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can have this conversation properly.”
He led me back up a set of gold lined sets and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me too, so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]
The water splashed against me, soaking the finery I had worn. Milo stood in front of me, barely a breadth apart.
“I need you to tell me what is going on, Milo. I can’t help you fix this if you don’t tell me.” He laughed a little at that, nodding at what he thought was a joke. “This is my life we are talking about. Do you think I wouldn’t want to help? That I won’t do what's possible to save me? Just talk to me. Please.”
We stood on opposite ends of the fountain, the mermaid between us. I wondered how many tears she had seen wept at her feet. How many lovers had gone separate ways in her lifetime. How many truths had all been betrayed.
“What is it you even want me to say?” he asked, sucking on the blunt of his cigarette and inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs.
“Anything,” I told him, hands in the air. “Anything but this half-truth that you have been crafting from the beginning.”
“It’s not a half-truth, $name,” he said bitterly. “I just didn’t tell you any of the truth.”
“Why?”
His eyes flicked up towards me. They were so much darker than I remembered. Like burning embers ready to be doused into nothing. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I cried. “Just fucking try me.” When his jaw locked in place, I watched him slowly start to shut down.
[[Are you even sorry]]
[[Can you not tell me? Is someone stopping you]]
[[You are going to lose everything if you keep this bullshit up]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Did you even care for me?]]<</if>>
The water splashed against me, soaking the finery I had worn. Milo stood in front of me, barely a breadth apart.
“Are you ready to tell the truth?” I asked him with a raised brow. “Or would you like to lie some more?”
He snorted a bit in laughter. “You’ve gotten damn near hostile with this new revelation.”
“It’s amazing what being lied to will do to a person.”
We stood on opposite ends of the fountain, the mermaid between us. I wondered how many tears she had seen wept at her feet. How many lovers had gone separate ways in her lifetime. How many truths had all been betrayed.
“What is it you even want me to say?” he asked, sucking on the blunt of his cigarette and inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs.
“Anything,” I told him, hands in the air. “Anything but this half-truth that you have been crafting from the beginning.”
“It’s not a half-truth, $name,” he said bitterly. “I just didn’t tell you any of the truth.”
“Why?”
His eyes flicked up towards me. They were so much darker than I remembered. Like burning embers ready to be doused into nothing. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I cried. “Just fucking try me.” When his jaw locked in place, I watched him slowly start to shut down.
[[Are you even sorry]]
[[Can you not tell me? Is someone stopping you]]
[[You are going to lose everything if you keep this bullshit up]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Did you even care for me?]]<</if>>
The water splashed against me, soaking the finery I had worn. Milo stood in front of me, barely a breadth apart.
“Milo, just be straight with me. What is going on?” It was my last hope. My last attempt.
We stood on opposite ends of the fountain, the mermaid between us. I wondered how many tears she had seen wept at her feet. How many lovers had gone separate ways in her lifetime. How many truths had all been betrayed.
“What is it you even want me to say?” he asked, sucking on the blunt of his cigarette and inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs.
“Anything,” I told him, hands in the air. “Anything but this half-truth that you have been crafting from the beginning.”
“It’s not a half-truth, $name,” he said bitterly. “I just didn’t tell you any of the truth.”
“Why?”
His eyes flicked up towards me. They were so much darker than I remembered. Like burning embers ready to be doused into nothing. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I cried. “Just fucking try me.” When his jaw locked in place, I watched him slowly start to shut down.
[[Are you even sorry]]
[[Can you not tell me? Is someone stopping you]]
[[You are going to lose everything if you keep this bullshit up]]
<<if $miloro == "true">>[[Did you even care for me?]]<</if>>
Against my better judgement, I took his hand, feeling him pull me to him. The expanse of his chest against mine, the smell of amber and the faint trace of smoke was layered against his open collar. The jangling keyrings that had been attached to his suspenders were gone and the foreign feel of heavier chains was around his neck, choking him into silence.
Slowly, we began to step around the garden, our bodies pressed close, our hearts beating as one. For one moment, I was allowed to forget. I was allowed to fall into the man that I had come to know. The one that laughed in the rain. Who had taken my hand time and time again, meandering the market, kicking one foot in front of the other.
“Milo,” I whispered.
“Shh,” he said gently. “Just– I want to feel this with you. Just for a minute.”
I let myself stay. Because for one simple moment, we felt like us again. We were not Night Market and the Gatekeeper. We were not two people mired in something far greater than we had any right to belong to. We were just us. And the us we had created was beautiful.
“What happened?” I asked him gently. “When did you stop trusting me?”
I could feel him stiffen against my hands, but our steps didn’t falter. He swallowed audibly, the click of his throat giving away to the pain he had been trying to hide. I couldn’t see his face but somehow, I knew it was making this easier for him. Milo had always spoken in such hushed truths when the lights were dim and he could hold me tight.
“It’s not like that,” he said after a long moment.
“Then what is it like?” I whispered back. “There is a part of me that could maybe understand what you had to say. Accept it even.” He was trying to save the market. The Gatekeeper was only doing his job. “Why dance with me if it was only going to end like this? Why take my hand in the rain and pull me through the streets? Why kiss me, Milo? Why spend the night with me?” Pulling back, I made sure to look at him then, just to make sure he heard my words. “Why did you make me want to fall in love with you?”
His steps faltered at that, his eyes trying to look anywhere but at me. I could see it then. The pain as he was unable to answer even a single one of my questions. It was funny, really. Because I hadn’t once expected him to. I just needed him to hear it. To feel the heartache that wrapped around my lungs until I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe.
[[Keep dancing]]
[[Push him away]]“Are you even sorry?” I asked him. I needed that answer more than anything. I thought of how quickly this was spiraling. I was starting to become less concerned about me and more concerned for the grander scope of it all. How Hazel would respond to this. Milo was her constant, the one person she had come to rely on through the years, but this felt far more like a betrayal than anything I had seen directed at her. Her heart would shatter.
Then there was Malcolm. The man had far more clarity when it came to Milo but I could see it in his eyes. This man wasn’t supposed to end this way. What Milo was doing was hurting Malcolm far more than the man would ever admit.
I thought about what it would take. What would drive a man to such lengths of distrust. I remembered his wet cry as his hand had been stomped on and the way the skin of his cheek had split open with a slap. I could see that scar now. It was still there. Faint and glowing in the light of his cigarette.
“Please tell me that you are sorry,” I said. It felt like begging.
Milo took one deep drag, the paper lighting his face in a soft glow. “How can I be sorry when in the end, I know what I’m doing is right?”
I felt my gut twist. Conviction. It was the most potent source of heroism and yet, it was the downfall of even the best intentions.
[[I don’t believe that you are a bad person]]
[[You are not the man that you claimed to be]]
[[I hope you get what’s coming to you Milo Next]]
“Can you not tell me?” I asked him. There had to be a reason he was being cagey. He had brought me here to talk and yet he was saying nothing. “Is someone stopping you?” His eyes didn’t waver . He only looked at me with an even keel that tried to convince me just how inconsequential I really was.
I thought about what it would take. What would drive a man to such lengths of distrust. I remembered his wet cry as his hand had been stomped on and the way the skin of his cheek had split open with a slap. I could see that scar now. It was still there. Faint and glowing in the light of his cigarette.
“Milo, if you need help, just let me help you. We’ll put this behind us and we can get you the help that you need.”
Milo took one deep drag, the paper lighting his face in a soft glow. “I don’t need help, $name. You may not see it, but what I’m doing is right.”
I felt my gut twist. Conviction. It was the most potent source of heroism and yet, it was the downfall of even the best intentions.
[[I don’t believe that you are a bad person]]
[[You are not the man that you claimed to be]]
[[I hope you get what’s coming to you Milo Next]]
“You are going to lose everything,” I told him. “Everything that you have clung to through the years is going to be gone if you keep this up. I get that I matter very little to you. You have made that apparent tonight, but how can you do this to Hazel? That girl would hang the moon for you.”
“And yet it doesn’t matter. Not in the end.”
I thought about what it would take. What would drive a man to such lengths of distrust. I remembered his wet cry as his hand had been stomped on and the way the skin of his cheek had split open with a slap. I could see that scar now. It was still there. Faint and glowing in the light of his cigarette.
“Milo, there are certain things she won’t forgive you for. I don’t know what you are doing, what this entire thing is about, but it’s clear that it’s nothing good. You wouldn’t have kept this from her if it was. Don’t do this to her.
Milo took one deep drag, the paper lighting his face in a soft glow. “Too late.”
I felt my gut twist. Conviction. It was the most potent source of heroism and yet, it was the downfall of even the best intentions.
[[I don’t believe that you are a bad person]]
[[You are not the man that you claimed to be]]
[[I hope you get what’s coming to you Milo Next]]
“Did you even care for me?” The words came out in a tumble, broken and jagged at my feet. “Or was that all a part of your act too.”
“What answer is going to help you?” he asked.
“Just answer the question, Milo. Was what we had real or were you faking it the entire time?”
Tilting his head to the side, the smoke curled around him, his eyes dull and dispassionate as he met my gaze. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why can’t you just answer anything directly? Why does it always have to be this doublespeak? You owe me the truth.”
He laughed a little, a mirthless curl appearing on his lips. “That’s the funny thing, darlin’. We owe no one anything in this world. Guilt and anger are the only thing that tells us otherwise.”
I thought about what it would take. What would drive a man to such lengths of distrust. I remembered his wet cry as his hand had been stomped on and the way the skin of his cheek had split open with a slap. I could see that scar now. It was still there. Faint and glowing in the light of his cigarette.
For the first time, his look was sharp. Something hidden behind his eyes. He caught it though. Far too quick for me to discern whatever emotion was behind it.
“I cared for you,” he said. “But I never loved you.”
[[Cry|Chapter Twelve cry]]
[[Get angry]]
[[You’re a liar]]I stayed in that moment with him. It felt like the final gift we could give each other. As I pressed myself close, feeling the way his muscles moved against me, the build of his arms and chest. The soft way he hummed beneath his breath. I felt an ache forming. Something that I didn’t know if I had ever felt before. But it was there and it specifically had Milo’s name on it.
When he curled me closer, I went willingly, the two of us continuing to sway until the end of the song. Even when it ended, we did not pull apart. I thought I felt his lips brush, ever so lightly, the crown of my head. I shivered, but said nothing. I know if I did, whatever spell we had allowed ourselves, would be broken.
Milo was the one who pulled away, squeezing my hand before he let it fall. He put his own hands into his pockets then, clenching them within the confines of his trousers. “Alright,” he said with an intake of breath. “Let’s go finish this talk.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can have this conversation properly.”
He led me back up a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me too, so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]
It hurt. It hurt far too much. Knowing what he did. Still not understanding any of it. Struggling in his grasp, I shoved him away.
“No,” I said firmly, feeling my throat thicken. “No. I’m not going to let you do this to me. Not again. I deserve the truth, Milo.”
He nodded, hands shoved in his pockets. “Alright then. Come on.”
“Where?” I demanded.
“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can have this conversation properly.”
He led me back up a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me too, so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]
Sadly, I shook my head. The person standing before me was not the one I had come to know. He was not the one that Hazel spoke of lovingly. He far more resembled the ugliness I had seen in the memories. The man that sneered at Malcolm. The one with the self-destructive behaviors. Maybe when he became the Gatekeeper something broke within him. Maybe, it was too late to save Milo.
“You are not the man you claimed to be,” I said sadly.
He smiled thinly at that. “That was the point, darlin’. Had to fool you all somehow.” There was such unapologetic bitterness to his tone that I felt sickened. There was no coming back from whatever it was he was about to do.
“Oh, Milo.” The familiar sound of bells jangled across the courtyard, echoing across the gemstone expanse that surrounded us and bouncing back to us in a cacophony of noise that drowned out the ball within. Taliesin stepped from the other side of the fountain, running his fingers through the sparkling water, looking up at the mermaid fondly. He stopped a few feet from us, a pout on his lips. “Time is ticking, Milo.”
Stepping in front of me, Milo moved me back behind him, one arm coming up to block me from Taliesin’s view. I could see the goblin over his shoulder. His glass grin growing wider and wider.
“Oh, are we changing our mind?” Taliesin cooed. “Tsk tsk. You can’t do that.”
“I’ll take care of it, Taliesin,” Milo said, his voice even. I could see his hand though as it pressed me firmly out of the way. It held a slight tremor. “You can go.”
“No, see, I don’t think I can. I’ve got too much wrapped up in this moment, Milo, dear boy. I want to make sure you do what you’re supposed to.”
“I’ll fucking do it, Taliesin. You can take your jangly ass and leave. Our partnership ends here.”
Taliesin laughed loudly, his hand coming out of his pocket, holding up something that I couldn’t quite see. It was small but I could feel Milo’s shoulders tense at the sight of it. When I looked over Milo’s shoulder though, I saw it. It was the picture Malcolm had drawn of me. Taken right from the apothecary. Right from the one place we all considered safe.
Taliesin didn’t move. He looked frozen in time, Malcolm’s charcoal drawing tight in his grip, catching in the light of the peeling moon above.
Turning, Milo looked at me. <<if $miloro == "true">>He stepped close, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.<<elseif $miloro == "false">>He stepped close, one hand curling against my shoulder.<</if>> I couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was a mixture of panic and determination, but there was something else there. The truth. The truth was tumbling against him in a desperate plea to just tell me. I didn’t know what I had said to bring it there or if it was the threat of Taliesin being able to get to Hazel so easily. But, something had shifted. Something had frightened him. If I could just…
I took in a sharp gasp of breath, my eyes going wide as a bright light swelled between us.
Looking down, I saw Milo’s hand on my chest. When he pulled away, I saw a key.
I looked up at him with shock, hands coming up to clutch at my chest but feeling nothing. Inside, I heard the screams of the party goers. The windows cracking outwards as a roar blasted through the cold night air.
“No, eyes on me,” Milo gently turned my chin so I looked at him. “It’ll be over in a moment,” He told me. "It’ll be okay. This will save you.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Tears filled his eyes as he let his features crumple. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he whispered. “I wanted to explain it. Give you time. I– I don’t know where I went wrong.<</if>>
My mouth opened but nothing came out, my voice suddenly sucked from my lungs, bleeding back into the market in a distant song. When my knees began to shake, Milo grabbed a hold of me, keeping me upright.
“This is what I needed to do,” he said urgently. “I needed to take a part of the market and sacrifice it to close the gates. You’ll still exist. You will still live,” he whispered. “Just not in this form.”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. Tears of pain and betrayal, every scream, every protest and every fear of death rolling through me, suffocating me as the light swelled from my throat.
“This will save you,” Milo said. I no longer knew if he was convincing me or himself. <<if $miloro == "true">> “I will save you…”<</if>>
“Actually,” Taliesin came into view over Milo’s shoulder. “I’m going to have to take this one, Milo, dear. See, I could have probably done this on my own but I really just wanted to see how this would play out with you. Should have known you’d try to let them go gentle into this dear night.”
A blade was pulled from Milo’s boot before I hit the ground. He let me go, pulling the hidden dagger before turning on his heel and burying it deep within Taliesin’s shoulder. The goblin sucked in a deep breath of pain, laughing in shock as Milo twisted the knife. I could see it in Milo’s eyes. The intent to kill the man. The bloodlust that took over him. Blood splashed against his cheeks, mingling with his freckles. With surprising strength, Taliesin shoved him free, taking the knife with him. Stumbling over to me, the goblin straddled my hips, looming over me.
My chest felt wide open, split in two as light rose with each ragged breath, blurring the world around me. “Thank you,” Taliesin whispered. “You are exactly what I needed.” I arched in pain as the Baron tipped into my chest. Pushing his way inside of me and pulling my ribs apart as inchy by inch he disapeared. A burst of light illuminated the sky as my body began to fade into nothing. From the balcony above I could hear my name being cried out. I thought it was Gabriel. Maybe it was Belladonna. I could hear Hazel weeping softly somewhere.
And then there was Milo, dragging himself forward.
I stared up into the burnt orbs of his amber eyes, feeling myself fading from the night, slipping through his hands.
“Fuck,” Milo hissed. “Fuck! Why isn’t this working. Why are you… $name. Let go. Fight him. Don’t let him….”
<<if $miloro == "true">>I opened my mouth to ask him just what he meant but forgot the words the second I did. The world felt cold and warm all at once and I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Not from my own tears, but from the man above me. “No,” he whispered. “No, this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t. //Fuck//! $name, please, hold on, okay? I’ll fix this. I lo…”<</if>>
Milo’s words became garbled as my eyes rolled up towards the night sky. The paper moon was peeling, bits of it falling like snow. It blinded my vision, blotting out the stars above. The warm blanket that used to cover me as I was tucked in at night.
And all across the market, the lanterns went dark.
[[End|NM TU]]I felt something burst within me and across the night sky, bright flares of colored light lit the black expanse like fireworks as the lanterns began to pop with my rage. “Fuck you, Milo. You want to be the villain in all this? Then fine. I hope you get what’s coming to you and I sorely hope I am there the day that you fall.”
He smirked at me, his eyes tight with anger. Leaning forward, he blew smoke in my face. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How anger doesn’t change a damn thing. The spools of Fate still unravel whether we weep or rage. So why not just enjoy the ride while it’s there, darlin’?”
An echo of terrified screams began swelling in the market as the walls burst and the portions of the night sky began to tear, frantically trying to stitch itself, //me//, back together.
“Oh, Milo.” The familiar sound of bells jangled across the courtyard, echoing across the gemstone expanse that surrounded us and bouncing back to us in a cacophony of noise that drowned out the ball within. Taliesin stepped from the other side of the fountain, running his fingers through the sparkling water, looking up at the mermaid fondly. He stopped a few feet from us, a pout on his lips. “Time is ticking, Milo.”
Stepping in front of me, Milo moved me back behind him, one arm coming up to block me from Taliesin’s view. I could see the goblin over his shoulder. His glass grin growing wider and wider.
“Oh, are we changing our mind?” Taliesin cooed. “Tsk tsk. You can’t do that.”
“I’ll take care of it, Taliesin,” Milo said, his voice even. I could see his hand though as it pressed me firmly out of the way. It held a slight tremor. “You can go.”
“No, see, I don’t think I can. I’ve got too much wrapped up in this moment, Milo, dear boy. I want to make sure you do what you’re supposed to.”
“I’ll fucking do it, Taliesin. You can take your jangly ass and leave. Our partnership ends here.”
Taliesin laughed loudly, his hand coming out of his pocket, holding up something that I couldn’t quite see. It was small but I could feel Milo’s shoulders tense at the sight of it. When I looked over Milo’s shoulder though, I saw it. It was the picture Malcolm had drawn of me. Taken right from the apothecary. Right from the one place we all considered safe.
Taliesin didn’t move. He looked frozen in time, Malcolm’s charcoal drawing tight in his grip, catching in the light of the peeling moon above.
Turning, Milo looked at me. <<if $miloro == "true">>He stepped close, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.<<elseif $miloro == "false">>He stepped close, one hand curling against my shoulder.<</if>> I couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was a mixture of panic and determination, but there was something else there. The truth. The truth was tumbling against him in a desperate plea to just tell me. I didn’t know what I had said to bring it there or if it was the threat of Taliesin being able to get to Hazel so easily. But, something had shifted. Something had frightened him. If I could just…
I took in a sharp gasp of breath, my eyes going wide as a bright light swelled between us.
Looking down, I saw Milo’s hand on my chest. When he pulled away, I saw a key.
I looked up at him with shock, hands coming up to clutch at my chest but feeling nothing. Inside, I heard the screams of the party goers. The windows cracking outwards as a roar blasted through the cold night air.
“No, eyes on me,” Milo gently turned my chin so I looked at him. “It’ll be over in a moment,” He told me. "It’ll be okay. This will save you.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Tears filled his eyes as he let his features crumple. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he whispered. “I wanted to explain it. Give you time. I– I don’t know where I went wrong.<</if>>
My mouth opened but nothing came out, my voice suddenly sucked from my lungs, bleeding back into the market in a distant song. When my knees began to shake, Milo grabbed a hold of me, keeping me upright.
“This is what I needed to do,” he said urgently. “I needed to take a part of the market and sacrifice it to close the gates. You’ll still exist. You will still live,” he whispered. “Just not in this form.”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. Tears of pain and betrayal, every scream, every protest and every fear of death rolling through me, suffocating me as the light swelled from my throat.
“This will save you,” Milo said. I no longer knew if he was convincing me or himself. <<if $miloro == "true">> “I will save you…”<</if>>
“Actually,” Taliesin came into view over Milo’s shoulder. “I’m going to have to take this one, Milo, dear. See, I could have probably done this on my own but I really just wanted to see how this would play out with you. Should have known you’d try to let them go gentle into this dear night.”
A blade was pulled from Milo’s boot before I hit the ground. He let me go, pulling the hidden dagger before turning on his heel and burying it deep within Taliesin’s shoulder. The goblin sucked in a deep breath of pain, laughing in shock as Milo twisted the knife. I could see it in Milo’s eyes. The intent to kill the man. The bloodlust that took over him. Blood splashed against his cheeks, mingling with his freckles. With surprising strength, Taliesin shoved him free, taking the knife with him. Stumbling over to me, the goblin straddled my hips, looming over me.
My chest felt wide open, split in two as light rose with each ragged breath, blurring the world around me. “Thank you,” Taliesin whispered. “You are exactly what I needed.” I arched in pain as the Baron tipped into my chest. Pushing his way inside of me and pulling my ribs apart as inchy by inch he disapeared. A burst of light illuminated the sky as my body began to fade into nothing. From the balcony above I could hear my name being cried out. I thought it was Gabriel. Maybe it was Belladonna. I could hear Hazel weeping softly somewhere.
And then there was Milo, dragging himself forward.
I stared up into the burnt orbs of his amber eyes, feeling myself fading from the night, slipping through his hands.
“Fuck,” Milo hissed. “Fuck! Why isn’t this working. Why are you… $name. Let go. Fight him. Don’t let him….”
<<if $miloro == "true">>I opened my mouth to ask him just what he meant but forgot the words the second I did. The world felt cold and warm all at once and I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Not from my own tears, but from the man above me. “No,” he whispered. “No, this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t. //Fuck//! $name, please, hold on, okay? I’ll fix this. I lo…”<</if>>
Milo’s words became garbled as my eyes rolled up towards the night sky. The paper moon was peeling, bits of it falling like snow. It blinded my vision, blotting out the stars above. The warm blanket that used to cover me as I was tucked in at night.
And all across the market, the lanterns went dark.
[[End|NM TU]]I felt the tears course down my cheeks. They ran down across my lips and dripped to join the splashes from the fountain. My face twisted as my heart broke in my chest and somewhere, I could hear the distant wailing of a market that was suddenly overcome with such deep sorrow.
Milo didn’t startle at the sight of my pain. Nor did he move forward to comfort me like he had so many times before. He greeted it head on, taking it all in and holding it. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. I had never felt a pain so raw before and as my world began to fall apart all around me, I suddenly wondered how I was supposed to do this. How was I supposed to go on the next day or the day after that. The uncaring look in Milo’s eyes would stay with me forever. Haunt me when I closed my eyes at night. I didn’t know this man. Whoever was standing before me was not the one that I had come to love. But, that man had never existed. Like me, he was a fabrication. He was not meant for this world.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I cried.
I watched his jaw tightened and his gaze break. Like the coward he was, he turned away.
“I’m doing what has to be done,” he whispered.
“Oh, Milo.” The familiar sound of bells jangled across the courtyard, echoing across the gemstone expanse that surrounded us and bouncing back to us in a cacophony of noise that drowned out the ball within. Taliesin stepped from the other side of the fountain, running his fingers through the sparkling water, looking up at the mermaid fondly. He stopped a few feet from us, a pout on his lips. “Time is ticking, Milo.”
Stepping in front of me, Milo moved me back behind him, one arm coming up to block me from Taliesin’s view. I could see the goblin over his shoulder. His glass grin growing wider and wider.
“Oh, are we changing our mind?” Taliesin cooed. “Tsk tsk. You can’t do that.”
“I’ll take care of it, Taliesin,” Milo said, his voice even. I could see his hand though as it pressed me firmly out of the way. It held a slight tremor. “You can go.”
“No, see, I don’t think I can. I’ve got too much wrapped up in this moment, Milo, dear boy. I want to make sure you do what you’re supposed to.”
“I’ll fucking do it, Taliesin. You can take your jangly ass and leave. Our partnership ends here.”
Taliesin laughed loudly, his hand coming out of his pocket, holding up something that I couldn’t quite see. It was small but I could feel Milo’s shoulders tense at the sight of it. The air shifted around us, becoming thick with mistrust. Milo’s fingers were tapping at his hip, his feet shifting apart to widen his stance. When I looked over his shoulder, I spied what exactly the Baron was holding that was putting him in such a state. <<if $miloro == "true">>It was the picture Malcolm had drawn of me. Taken right from the apothecary. Right from the one place we all considered safe. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> It was one of the drawings that adorned Hazel’s walls. Still framed lovingly, an echo of a time when they had all been much younger.<</if>>
Taliesin didn’t move. He looked frozen in time, Malcolm’s charcoal drawing tight in his grip, catching in the light of the peeling moon above.
Turning, Milo looked at me. <<if $miloro == "true">>He stepped close, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.<<elseif $miloro == "false">>He stepped close, one hand curling against my shoulder.<</if>> I couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was a mixture of panic and determination, but there was something else there. The truth. The truth was tumbling against him in a desperate plea to just tell me. I didn’t know what I had said to bring it there or if it was the threat of Taliesin being able to get to Hazel so easily. But, something had shifted. Something had frightened him. If I could just…
I took in a sharp gasp of breath, my eyes going wide as a bright light swelled between us.
Looking down, I saw Milo’s hand on my chest. When he pulled away, I saw a key.
I looked up at him with shock, hands coming up to clutch at my chest but feeling nothing. Inside, I heard the screams of the party goers. The windows cracking outwards as a roar blasted through the cold night air.
“No, eyes on me,” Milo gently turned my chin so I looked at him. “It’ll be over in a moment,” He told me. “It’ll be okay. This will save you.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Tears filled his eyes as he let his features crumple. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he whispered. “I wanted to explain it. Give you time. I– I don’t know where I went wrong.”<</if>>
My mouth opened but nothing came out, my voice suddenly sucked from my lungs, bleeding back into the market in a distant song. When my knees began to shake, Milo grabbed a hold of me, keeping me upright.
“This is what I needed to do,” he said urgently. “I needed to take a part of the market and sacrifice it to close the gates. You’ll still exist. You will still live,” he whispered. “Just not in this form.”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. Tears of pain and betrayal, every scream, every protest and every fear of death rolling through me, suffocating me as the light swelled from my throat.
“This will save you,” Milo said. I no longer knew if he was convincing me or himself. <<if $miloro == "true">> “I will save you…”<</if>>
“Actually,” Taliesin came into view over Milo’s shoulder. “I’m going to have to take this one, Milo, dear. See, I could have probably done this on my own but I really just wanted to see how this would play out with you. Should have known you’d try to let them go gentle into this dear night.”
A blade was pulled from Milo’s boot before I hit the ground. He let me go, pulling the hidden dagger before turning on his heel and burying it deep within Taliesin’s shoulder. The goblin sucked in a deep breath of pain, laughing in shock as Milo twisted the knife. I could see it in Milo’s eyes. The intent to kill the man. The bloodlust that took over him. Blood splashed against his cheeks, mingling with his freckles. With surprising strength, Taliesin shoved him free, taking the knife with him. Stumbling over to me, the goblin straddled my hips, looming over me.
“Thank you,” Taliesin whispered. “You are exactly what I needed.” I arched in pain as the Baron tipped into my chest. A burst of light illuminated the sky as my body began to fade into nothing. From the balcony above I could hear my name being cried out. I thought it was Gabriel. Maybe it was Belladonna. I could hear Hazel weeping softly somewhere.
And then there was Milo, dragging himself forward.
I stared up into the burnt orbs of his amber eyes, feeling myself fading from the night, slipping through his hands.
“Fuck,” Milo hissed. “Fuck! Why isn’t this working. Why are you… $name. Let go. Fight him. Don’t let him….”
<<if $miloro == "true">>I opened my mouth to ask him just what he meant but forgot the words the second I did. The world felt cold and warm all at once and I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Not from my own tears, but from the man above me. “No,” he whispered. “No, this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t. //Fuck//! $name, please, hold on, okay? I’ll fix this. I lo…”<</if>>
Milo’s words became garbled as my eyes rolled up towards the night sky. The paper moon was peeling, bits of it falling like snow. It blinded my vision, blotting out the stars above. The warm blanket that used to cover me as I was tucked in at night.
And all across the market, the lanterns went dark.
[[End|NM TU]]I felt something burst within me and across the night sky, bright flares of colored light lit the black expanse like fireworks as the lanterns began to pop with my rage. “Fuck you, Milo. You were so worried about for so long about the world being disappointed in you. Guess what? It’s happened. The fucking Night Market couldn’t care less about what happens to you from this point forward. Your fear of disappointing the people who mattered to you has finally arrived. You can rest easy knowing how much you actually failed.”
He smirked at me, his eyes tight with anger. Leaning forward, he blew smoke in my face. “Still doesn’t change a damn thing. I still get what I want in the end. And you? Well, why would I care if you’re disappointed in me? You’re not even a real person? Just a construct of my own design. Thanks for the fun, darlin’.”
An echo of terrified screams began swelling in the market as the walls burst and the portions of the night sky began to tear, frantically trying to stitch itself, //me//, back together.
“Oh, Milo.” The familiar sound of bells jangled across the courtyard, echoing across the gemstone expanse that surrounded us and bouncing back to us in a cacophony of noise that drowned out the ball within. Taliesin stepped from the other side of the fountain, running his fingers through the sparkling water, looking up at the mermaid fondly. He stopped a few feet from us, a pout on his lips. “Time is ticking, Milo.”
Stepping in front of me, Milo moved me back behind him, one arm coming up to block me from Taliesin’s view. I could see the goblin over his shoulder. His glass grin growing wider and wider.
“Oh, are we changing our mind?” Taliesin cooed. “Tsk tsk. You can’t do that.”
“I’ll take care of it, Taliesin,” Milo said, his voice even. I could see his hand though as it pressed me firmly out of the way. It held a slight tremor. “You can go.”
“No, see, I don’t think I can. I’ve got too much wrapped up in this moment, Milo, dear boy. I want to make sure you do what you’re supposed to.”
“I’ll fucking do it, Taliesin. You can take your jangly ass and leave. Our partnership ends here.”
Taliesin laughed loudly, his hand coming out of his pocket, holding up something that I couldn’t quite see. It was small but I could feel Milo’s shoulders tense at the sight of it. The air shifted around us, becoming thick with mistrust. Milo’s fingers were tapping at his hip, his feet shifting apart to widen his stance. When I looked over his shoulder, I spied what exactly the Baron was holding that was putting him in such a state. <<if $miloro == "true">>It was the picture Malcolm had drawn of me. Taken right from the apothecary. Right from the one place we all considered safe. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> It was one of the drawings that adorned Hazel’s walls. Still framed lovingly, an echo of a time when they had all been much younger.<</if>>
Taliesin didn’t move. He looked frozen in time, Malcolm’s charcoal drawing tight in his grip, catching in the light of the peeling moon above.
Turning, Milo looked at me. <<if $miloro == "true">>He stepped close, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.<<elseif $miloro == "false">>He stepped close, one hand curling against my shoulder.<</if>> I couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was a mixture of panic and determination, but there was something else there. The truth. The truth was tumbling against him in a desperate plea to just tell me. I didn’t know what I had said to bring it there or if it was the threat of Taliesin being able to get to Hazel so easily. But, something had shifted. Something had frightened him. If I could just…
I took in a sharp gasp of breath, my eyes going wide as a bright light swelled between us.
Looking down, I saw Milo’s hand on my chest. When he pulled away, I saw a key.
I looked up at him with shock, hands coming up to clutch at my chest but feeling nothing. Inside, I heard the screams of the party goers. The windows cracking outwards as a roar blasted through the cold night air.
“No, eyes on me,” Milo gently turned my chin so I looked at him. “It’ll be over in a moment,” He told me. “It’ll be okay. This will save you.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Tears filled his eyes as he let his features crumple. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he whispered. “I wanted to explain it. Give you time. I– I don’t know where I went wrong.”<</if>>
My mouth opened but nothing came out, my voice suddenly sucked from my lungs, bleeding back into the market in a distant song. When my knees began to shake, Milo grabbed a hold of me, keeping me upright.
“This is what I needed to do,” he said urgently. “I needed to take a part of the market and sacrifice it to close the gates. You’ll still exist. You will still live,” he whispered. “Just not in this form.”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. Tears of pain and betrayal, every scream, every protest and every fear of death rolling through me, suffocating me as the light swelled from my throat.
“This will save you,” Milo said. I no longer knew if he was convincing me or himself. <<if $miloro == "true">> “I will save you…”<</if>>
“Actually,” Taliesin came into view over Milo’s shoulder. “I’m going to have to take this one, Milo, dear. See, I could have probably done this on my own but I really just wanted to see how this would play out with you. Should have known you’d try to let them go gentle into this dear night.”
A blade was pulled from Milo’s boot before I hit the ground. He let me go, pulling the hidden dagger before turning on his heel and burying it deep within Taliesin’s shoulder. The goblin sucked in a deep breath of pain, laughing in shock as Milo twisted the knife. I could see it in Milo’s eyes. The intent to kill the man. The bloodlust that took over him. Blood splashed against his cheeks, mingling with his freckles. With surprising strength, Taliesin shoved him free, taking the knife with him. Stumbling over to me, the goblin straddled my hips, looming over me.
“Thank you,” Taliesin whispered. “You are exactly what I needed.” I arched in pain as the Baron tipped into my chest. A burst of light illuminated the sky as my body began to fade into nothing. From the balcony above I could hear my name being cried out. I thought it was Gabriel. Maybe it was Belladonna. I could hear Hazel weeping softly somewhere.
And then there was Milo, dragging himself forward.
I stared up into the burnt orbs of his amber eyes, feeling myself fading from the night, slipping through his hands.
“Fuck,” Milo hissed. “Fuck! Why isn’t this working. Why are you… $name. Let go. Fight him. Don’t let him….”
<<if $miloro == "true">>I opened my mouth to ask him just what he meant but forgot the words the second I did. The world felt cold and warm all at once and I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Not from my own tears, but from the man above me. “No,” he whispered. “No, this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t. //Fuck//! $name, please, hold on, okay? I’ll fix this. I lo…”<</if>>
Milo’s words became garbled as my eyes rolled up towards the night sky. The paper moon was peeling, bits of it falling like snow. It blinded my vision, blotting out the stars above. The warm blanket that used to cover me as I was tucked in at night.
And all across the market, the lanterns went dark.
[[End|NM TU]]Stepping forward, I tipped my head towards him, feeling the anger cry out through me. I could hear the faint pop of the lanterns somewhere within the alleys that led here. Bursting with sporadic sparks before reforming.
“You’re a liar,” I whispered. I knew it. I could //feel// it. Milo wasn’t telling the truth the entire time I had known him. Why would he start now?
He didn’t look away as his lips thinned. “Listen close enough to those words. I guarantee you they’re not a lie” he said. I could hear it though. The quiver in his voice. The dread with what was about to come.
“Let me help you,” I said. “Come back to Hazel’s with me. Let me–”
“Oh, Milo.” The familiar sound of bells jangled across the courtyard, echoing across the gemstone expanse that surrounded us and bouncing back to us in a cacophony of noise that drowned out the ball within. Taliesin stepped from the other side of the fountain, running his fingers through the sparkling water, looking up at the mermaid fondly. He stopped a few feet from us, a pout on his lips. “Time is ticking, Milo.”
Stepping in front of me, Milo moved me back behind him, one arm coming up to block me from Taliesin’s view. I could see the goblin over his shoulder. His glass grin growing wider and wider.
“Oh, are we changing our mind?” Taliesin cooed. “Tsk tsk. You can’t do that.”
“I’ll take care of it, Taliesin,” Milo said, his voice even. I could see his hand though as it pressed me firmly out of the way. It held a slight tremor. “You can go.”
“No, see, I don’t think I can. I’ve got too much wrapped up in this moment, Milo, dear boy. I want to make sure you do what you’re supposed to.”
“I’ll fucking do it, Taliesin. You can take your jangly ass and leave. Our partnership ends here.”
Taliesin laughed loudly, his hand coming out of his pocket, holding up something that I couldn’t quite see. It was small but I could feel Milo’s shoulders tense at the sight of it. The air shifted around us, becoming thick with mistrust. Milo’s fingers were tapping at his hip, his feet shifting apart to widen his stance. When I looked over his shoulder, I spied what exactly the Baron was holding that was putting him in such a state. <<if $miloro == "true">>It was the picture Malcolm had drawn of me. Taken right from the apothecary. Right from the one place we all considered safe. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> It was one of the drawings that adorned Hazel’s walls. Still framed lovingly, an echo of a time when they had all been much younger.<</if>>
Taliesin didn’t move. He looked frozen in time, Malcolm’s charcoal drawing tight in his grip, catching in the light of the peeling moon above.
Turning, Milo looked at me. <<if $miloro == "true">>He stepped close, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.<<elseif $miloro == "false">>He stepped close, one hand curling against my shoulder.<</if>> I couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was a mixture of panic and determination, but there was something else there. The truth. The truth was tumbling against him in a desperate plea to just tell me. I didn’t know what I had said to bring it there or if it was the threat of Taliesin being able to get to Hazel so easily. But, something had shifted. Something had frightened him. If I could just…
I took in a sharp gasp of breath, my eyes going wide as a bright light swelled between us.
Looking down, I saw Milo’s hand on my chest. When he pulled away, I saw a key.
I looked up at him with shock, hands coming up to clutch at my chest but feeling nothing. Inside, I heard the screams of the party goers. The windows cracking outwards as a roar blasted through the cold night air.
“No, eyes on me,” Milo gently turned my chin so I looked at him. “It’ll be over in a moment,” He told me. “It’ll be okay. This will save you.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Tears filled his eyes as he let his features crumple. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he whispered. “I wanted to explain it. Give you time. I– I don’t know where I went wrong.”<</if>>
My mouth opened but nothing came out, my voice suddenly sucked from my lungs, bleeding back into the market in a distant song. When my knees began to shake, Milo grabbed a hold of me, keeping me upright.
“This is what I needed to do,” he said urgently. “I needed to take a part of the market and sacrifice it to close the gates. You’ll still exist. You will still live,” he whispered. “Just not in this form.”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. Tears of pain and betrayal, every scream, every protest and every fear of death rolling through me, suffocating me as the light swelled from my throat.
“This will save you,” Milo said. I no longer knew if he was convincing me or himself. <<if $miloro == "true">> “I will save you…”<</if>>
“Actually,” Taliesin came into view over Milo’s shoulder. “I’m going to have to take this one, Milo, dear. See, I could have probably done this on my own but I really just wanted to see how this would play out with you. Should have known you’d try to let them go gentle into this dear night.”
A blade was pulled from Milo’s boot before I hit the ground. He let me go, pulling the hidden dagger before turning on his heel and burying it deep within Taliesin’s shoulder. The goblin sucked in a deep breath of pain, laughing in shock as Milo twisted the knife. I could see it in Milo’s eyes. The intent to kill the man. The bloodlust that took over him. Blood splashed against his cheeks, mingling with his freckles. With surprising strength, Taliesin shoved him free, taking the knife with him. Stumbling over to me, the goblin straddled my hips, looming over me.
“Thank you,” Taliesin whispered. “You are exactly what I needed.” I arched in pain as the Baron tipped into my chest. A burst of light illuminated the sky as my body began to fade into nothing. From the balcony above I could hear my name being cried out. I thought it was Gabriel. Maybe it was Belladonna. I could hear Hazel weeping softly somewhere.
And then there was Milo, dragging himself forward.
I stared up into the burnt orbs of his amber eyes, feeling myself fading from the night, slipping through his hands.
“Fuck,” Milo hissed. “Fuck! Why isn’t this working. Why are you… $name. Let go. Fight him. Don’t let him….”
<<if $miloro == "true">>I opened my mouth to ask him just what he meant but forgot the words the second I did. The world felt cold and warm all at once and I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Not from my own tears, but from the man above me. “No,” he whispered. “No, this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t. //Fuck//! $name, please, hold on, okay? I’ll fix this. I lo…”<</if>>
Milo’s words became garbled as my eyes rolled up towards the night sky. The paper moon was peeling, bits of it falling like snow. It blinded my vision, blotting out the stars above. The warm blanket that used to cover me as I was tucked in at night.
And all across the market, the lanterns went dark.
[[End|NM TU]]Blinking at our surroundings, I tried to catch up. As if my mind was still swimming somewhere back within the apothecary. “How did you do that?”
Belladonna raised a perfectly arched brow at me. “Do what?”
“Get us here.” I hadn’t seen anything. I had barely felt it and even though there was the shifting sound of wings, I had seen nothing of the leathery expanse. But if I thought Belladonna was going to give me anything, I was sorely mistaken. She only looked around with wide and innocent eyes, as if we had walked here and had a pleasant conversation while doing so.
“Come along, dear heart,” she called, meandering down the rose gold path and leaving my question unanswered.
Frowning, it struck me suddenly that I had never heard of her employer. During the time that I had known Bella, she had not once spoken of the individual she worked for. Getting an assignment from them. Occasionally I had heard about one of her “dates” but she was in full control of them. In fact, Belladonna seemed like the last woman who would have worked for someone.
“Belladonna,” I started, looking around at the way works smiled at her. “Do you own the Pleasure District?”
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she looked at me with a coy smile before putting one long finger against her crimson lips. I tried not to stumble. This was hers. She hadn’t even been a Baron and yet this entire area was hers. The amount of knowledge she consumed was certainly more believable given the idea that she was the puppet master of this show.
We made our way back behind the building and into the darkened corner of the garden that I had often found her sitting in. The wooden partitions to her room were glowing softly but the vampires that usually stood outside the entrance were nowhere to be seen. Belladonna did not look at me as she walked the path towards her room, kicking her heels off as she went and carrying them by the straps.
The room didn’t look much different from the last time I had been here. When I had first arrived in the market, I was sent here for tea, supposedly offering myself in supplication to a woman who would be able to get me home. In an indication of the journey I would take over the next few months, nothing had gone according to plan. I had been a secret then. One Belladonna had been curious about as she stared me down from her position by the fireplace, drinking blood from a piece of fine china. Now, she was barreling through the room towards a back area that I had not seen before. The door blended into the wall and it was doubtful I would have seen it without knowing it was there.
The room we found ourselves in was hidden from the public view and lined with floor to ceiling shelves. The fireplace at the far end of the room was massive and blaring, made of two large pillars of what looked like glass, living flame dancing within the structure. Across the way, three arched windows opened out towards the night sky. We had not climbed steps to get to Belladonna’s room but it felt as if we were in a high up tower, overlooking the entirety of the Night Market from the cosmos.
I stopped at the window, looking down at the lanterns below. My lanterns.
“It is odd,” Belladonna said, coming to stand by me. “Feeling like one thing and being another.”
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “Is that how you felt when you first came to the market?” I asked.
She nodded. “I have a feeling most children feel that way. It was not that long ago that my world burned but I certainly felt far more like a child than whatever the years have turned me into.”
[[I like what the years have turned you into]]
[[I saw you. Back when you were human]]
[[You don’t have to be what everyone expects you to be]]
I stumbled a little on my feet as I tried to gain my bearings. Belladonna stood, brushing her hair from her face, despite it only being a few strands, and waiting for me to catch up.
“Okay,” I said, staring at her. “That was incredibly hot.”
She preened a bit at the compliment. “Why thank you. Now, come along.” Turning, she looked over her shoulder, waiting for me to fall in step beside her as we began to move down the rose gold path.
Frowning, it struck me suddenly that I had never heard of her employer. During the time that I had known Bella, she had not once spoken of the individual she worked for. Getting an assignment from them. Occasionally I had heard about one of her “dates” but she was in full control of them. In fact, Belladonna seemed like the last woman who would have worked for someone.
“Belladonna,” I started, looking around at the way works smiled at her. “Do you own the Pleasure District?”
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she looked at me with a coy smile before putting one long finger against her crimson lips. I tried not to stumble. This was hers. She hadn’t even been a Baron and yet this entire area was hers. The amount of knowledge she consumed was certainly more believable given the idea that she was the puppet master of this show.
We made our way back behind the building and into the darkened corner of the garden that I had often found her sitting in. The wooden partitions to her room were glowing softly but the vampires that usually stood outside the entrance were nowhere to be seen. Belladonna did not look at me as she walked the path towards her room, kicking her heels off as she went and carrying them by the straps.
The room didn’t look much different from the last time I had been here. When I had first arrived in the market, I was sent here for tea, supposedly offering myself in supplication to a woman who would be able to get me home. In an indication of the journey I would take over the next few months, nothing had gone according to plan. I had been a secret then. One Belladonna had been curious about as she stared me down from her position by the fireplace, drinking blood from a piece of fine china. Now, she was barreling through the room towards a back area that I had not seen before. The door blended into the wall and it was doubtful I would have seen it without knowing it was there.
The room we found ourselves in was hidden from the public view and lined with floor to ceiling shelves. The fireplace at the far end of the room was massive and blaring, made of two large pillars of what looked like glass, living flame dancing within the structure. Across the way, three arched windows opened out towards the night sky. We had not climbed steps to get to Belladonna’s room but it felt as if we were in a high up tower, overlooking the entirety of the Night Market from the cosmos.
I stopped at the window, looking down at the lanterns below. My lanterns.
“It is odd,” Belladonna said, coming to stand by me. “Feeling like one thing and being another.”
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “Is that how you felt when you first came to the market?” I asked.
She nodded. “I have a feeling most children feel that way. It was not that long ago that my world burned but I certainly felt far more like a child than whatever the years have turned me into.”
[[I like what the years have turned you into]]
[[I saw you. Back when you were human]]
[[You don’t have to be what everyone expects you to be]]
“Is that how you get through the market so quick?” I asked. There had been plenty of times where Belladonna had just appeared, moving halfway across the market with ease. Not once had I seen her in public, enjoying the market's wares, unless she was with me. For someone who was the eyes and ears of the Night Market, she barely traversed the streets.
Ignoring me, Belladonna began moving down the rose gold path. Diffused light fell from the open doors of the little bungalows and rooms speckled around the district while the sweet smell of sugar permeated the air. I ticked my eyes towards Bella, wondering how everyone would treat her now. If she even had a job here any longer.
Frowning, it struck me suddenly that I had never heard of her employer. During the time that I had known Bella, she had not once spoken of the individual she worked for. Getting an assignment from them. Occasionally I had heard about one of her “dates” but she was in full control of them. In fact, Belladonna seemed like the last woman who would have worked for someone.
“Belladonna,” I started, looking around at the way works smiled at her. “Do you own the Pleasure District?”
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she looked at me with a coy smile before putting one long finger against her crimson lips. I tried not to stumble. This was hers. She hadn’t even been a Baron and yet this entire area was hers. The amount of knowledge she consumed was certainly more believable given the idea that she was the puppet master of this show.
We made our way back behind the building and into the darkened corner of the garden that I had often found her sitting in. The wooden partitions to her room were glowing softly but the vampires that usually stood outside the entrance were nowhere to be seen. Belladonna did not look at me as she walked the path towards her room, kicking her heels off as she went and carrying them by the straps.
The room didn’t look much different from the last time I had been here. When I had first arrived in the market, I was sent here for tea, supposedly offering myself in supplication to a woman who would be able to get me home. In an indication of the journey I would take over the next few months, nothing had gone according to plan. I had been a secret then. One Belladonna had been curious about as she stared me down from her position by the fireplace, drinking blood from a piece of fine china. Now, she was barreling through the room towards a back area that I had not seen before. The door blended into the wall and it was doubtful I would have seen it without knowing it was there.
The room we found ourselves in was hidden from the public view and lined with floor to ceiling shelves. The fireplace at the far end of the room was massive and blaring, made of two large pillars of what looked like glass, living flame dancing within the structure. Across the way, three arched windows opened out towards the night sky. We had not climbed steps to get to Belladonna’s room but it felt as if we were in a high up tower, overlooking the entirety of the Night Market from the cosmos.
I stopped at the window, looking down at the lanterns below. My lanterns.
“It is odd,” Belladonna said, coming to stand by me. “Feeling like one thing and being another.”
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “Is that how you felt when you first came to the market?” I asked.
She nodded. “I have a feeling most children feel that way. It was not that long ago that my world burned but I certainly felt far more like a child than whatever the years have turned me into.”
[[I like what the years have turned you into]]
[[I saw you. Back when you were human]]
[[You don’t have to be what everyone expects you to be]]
When I had first met Belladonna, I had seen her as infallible. A woman who knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and she would stop at nothing to get it. After the incident with Kavatti, it was only reinforced. Knowing that she had planned this for years. That Belladonna had gone out of her way, time and time again, to ensure that this woman who had betrayed her once, would not greet another day, was a type of dedication I just simply didn’t think many had. It was what set Belladonna apart from the others I had met. Blind ambition.
But I wondered. Did she wish to be that? At the end of the day, did she come back here to her book filled world, always alone?”
“I like who you have turned into over the years,” I told her.
She laughed a little. “Because you knew me so well before?”
“I saw some of you,” I confessed. “Back when you were human.”
She startled at that, turning to me with a question before the dawning realization hit her. “Because anything that was experienced on your streets, you would have memory of.” I nodded, still not sure how I felt about the invasion of privacy. The only good thing I could see about it was I was not actively searching for those memories.
“My point is, I enjoy who you are now. I would also enjoy who you used to be but I think who you are now could have gone so much differently. You could have let the years defeat you. Instead, you rose to the occasion and made the world your own.”
“There is something that I’m sure I could say about you and me in that sentence.”
I grinned a little. “I’m aware.”
Her eyes were frozen out at the starry sky. At the paper moon and the little pinpricks of light that dotted the expanse of black. It was uncomfortable to look at. I had found myself doing it before. The night sky seemed stagnant. Like it was stitched together and placed up there for our convenience, but like it didn’t actually belong.
“Do you know I used to wonder if all this was real?” she asked quietly. “I used to look up at the night sky, look at the moon and the stars, and wonder if when I stumbled through the gate, if I had stumbled into the afterlife. I’m still not entirely convinced. Call it the old ways of my childhood teachings crawling back to me. But perhaps, this is hell.”
“Hell?” I asked.
“Fiery place for sinners or for people who a certain sect of society deem different,” she said with thinned lips.
[[I don’t disagree]]
[[There is good here]]
[[Given that I am this place, I hope not]]
When I had first met Belladonna, I had seen her as infallible. A woman who knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and she would stop at nothing to get it. After the incident with Kavatti, it was only reinforced. Knowing that she had planned this for years. That Belladonna had gone out of her way, time and time again, to ensure that this woman who had betrayed her once, would not greet another day, was a type of dedication I just simply didn’t think many had. It was what set Belladonna apart from the others I had met. Blind ambition.
But I wondered. Did she wish to be that? At the end of the day, did she come back here to her book filled world, always alone?”
“I saw you,” stated quietly. “Back when you were human.”
She startled at that, turning to me with a question before the dawning realization hit her. “Because anything that was experienced on your streets, you would have memory of.” I nodded, still not sure how I felt about the invasion of privacy. The only good thing I could see about it was I was not actively searching for those memories. “Do you know how you accessed them?” Belladonna asked, no doubt concerned I could replay her life in the course of an evening.
“No. Where I was– Malcolm said it was a liminal space. Where memories alone existed. I didn’t ask too much about it. I don’t know if he was guiding me towards certain memories or they are just the ones I wanted to see…” Although, I hadn’t wanted to see any of them. There was understanding that came with each, but I didn’t wish to see the people I had come to care for in such pain.
“It will be interesting in the upcoming days if you’ll be able to access them at will. Though, that is great power that I am not sure anyone should have.” Yet, I had it. I just didn’t know how to use it. It felt like a lump in my gut, the understanding that I had everyone's lives at my fingertips. It was surreal at best and horrifying at worst.
Her eyes were frozen out at the starry sky. At the paper moon and the little pinpricks of light that dotted the expanse of black. It was uncomfortable to look at. I had found myself doing it before. The night sky seemed stagnant. Like it was stitched together and placed up there for our convenience, but like it didn’t actually belong.
“Do you know I used to wonder if all this was real?” she asked quietly. “I used to look up at the night sky, look at the moon and the stars, and wonder if when I stumbled through the gate, if I had stumbled into the afterlife. I’m still not entirely convinced. Call it the old ways of my childhood teachings crawling back to me. But perhaps, this is hell.”
“Hell?” I asked.
“Fiery place for sinners or for people who a certain sect of society deem different,” she said with thinned lips.
[[I don’t disagree]]
[[There is good here]]
[[Given that I am this place, I hope not]]
When I had first met Belladonna, I had seen her as infallible. A woman who knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and she would stop at nothing to get it. After the incident with Kavatti, it was only reinforced. Knowing that she had planned this for years. That Belladonna had gone out of her way, time and time again, to ensure that this woman who had betrayed her once, would not greet another day, was a type of dedication I just simply didn’t think many had. It was what set Belladonna apart from the others I had met. Blind ambition.
But I wondered. Did she wish to be that? At the end of the day, did she come back here to her book filled world, always alone?”
“You don’t have to be what everyone expects you to be,” I told her gently.
She laughed a little, a bitter tinge to her voice. “And what does everyone expect me to be?”
“Strong.”
Her eyes were frozen out at the starry sky. At the paper moon and the little pinpricks of light that dotted the expanse of black. It was uncomfortable to look at. I had found myself doing it before. The night sky seemed stagnant. Like it was stitched together and placed up there for our convenience, but like it didn’t actually belong.
“Do you know I used to wonder if all this was real?” she asked quietly. “I used to look up at the night sky, look at the moon and the stars, and wonder if when I stumbled through the gate, if I had stumbled into the afterlife. I’m still not entirely convinced. Call it the old ways of my childhood teachings crawling back to me. But perhaps, this is hell.”
“Hell?” I asked.
“Fiery place for sinners or for people who a certain sect of society deem different,” she said with thinned lips.
[[I don’t disagree]]
[[There is good here]]
[[Given that I am this place, I hope not]]
“I think whatever is about to happen, you do need to get one thing in mind,” I told him softly. “Hazel’s pain is real. Just like yours is. She may be going about it differently. She may even be going about it in a way you disagree with, but that doesn’t mean it is not a very real thing.”
Milo stared at me, his body carefully controlled and tense. “You think this has to do with me processing some ill-fated amount of grief?”
“I think that the subject of Malcolm is touchy and there are maybe things you haven’t addressed.”
“Right,” he nodded, hand reaching out to rap his knuckles against the front counter. “Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind then.”
<<if $miloro == "true">> “Milo,” I began.
“No, it’s fine. You’ve got it figured out, $name.”<</if>>
Behind me, the door to the back garden opened again. Hazel walked in with an apron full of apples and tear stained cheeks. Pushing away from the wall, Milo re-entered the room as well, leaving me to follow.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. “Now. Why do you have a Baron’s ring on the counter?”
“Mr. Billows brought it to me this morning,” I explained to her.
“The cat?” The surprise that should have been in her voice was not there, which concerned me more than anything else. When we all three gave a nod she looked at the ring with a bit more interest, a small smile playing across her lips. It was punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]“Just don’t do something you’ll regret,” I told him softly. Whether it was isolating Hazel or shoving her emotions to the side. Milo was blinded by his emotions at the moment and couldn’t see the truth of the situation clearly.
He snorted in mirthless laughter. “And what would that something be?” he asked.
“I don’t know, Milo. You are a self-proclaimed wreckless man. I am just asking you to think before you do anything.”
He stared at me, body tense but controlled. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
Behind me, the door to the back garden opened again. Hazel walked in with an apron full of apples and tear stained cheeks. Pushing away from the wall, Milo re-entered the room as well, leaving me to follow.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. “Now. Why do you have a Baron’s ring on the counter?”
“Mr. Billows brought it to me this morning,” I explained to her.
“The cat?” The surprise that should have been in her voice was not there, which concerned me more than anything else. When we all three gave a nod she looked at the ring with a bit more interest, a small smile playing across her lips. It was punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]“I think you should be going with her. I think when it comes to the situation of Malcolm, you should be by her side.”
“I’m not going down to the Deep to hear some crack pot feed her a load of shit. Sorry, not my cup of tea.”
“It doesn’t matter if it is your cup of tea or not, Hazel is making an effort here. Whether you like how she is going about it, isn’t up for debate. But as the only other person there that night, don’t you want to be there? Don’t you want to know if it's him.”
“No,” he said with a mirthless laugh. “I actually don’t. Because on the small chance that it is? That’s fucked in ways you don’t understand.”
Behind me, the door to the back garden opened again. Hazel walked in with an apron full of apples and tear stained cheeks. Pushing away from the wall, Milo re-entered the room as well, leaving me to follow.
“Are we all done?” Belladonna called. Her voice was lilting and inquisitive, but even I could hear the irritation beneath her words. “Good,” she continued, not waiting for anyone to answer. “Now. Why do you have a Baron’s ring on the counter?”
“Mr. Billows brought it to me this morning,” I explained to her.
“The cat?” The surprise that should have been in her voice was not there, which concerned me more than anything else. When we all three gave a nod she looked at the ring with a bit more interest, a small smile playing across her lips. It was punctuated by the soft jangle of the door behind us as yet another patron entered the apothecary. It was with some relief to find it to be Gabriel. With a crisp and clean uniform and a short sword strapped to his hip, he was clearly ready to start his day.
“Mr. Billows gave $name a Baron ring this morning,” Belladonna said without looking in his direction. I supposed she probably was able to smell him. Vampire and all. There was only a small falter in Gabriel’s steps as he walked towards the front counter, staring at the ring in question.
“This morning?” he asked, his voice flat and devoid of any sort of surprise or curiosity like normal. Even when I nodded my affirmation he looked at the hunk of metal like it was just another bit that was haphazardly spent at a food cart. “Well, I was stopping by to discuss what the next move was going to be with the Barons, but it seems as if they have already beat us to it.”
“Warden Gabe,” Milo started, his tone sardonic and bordering on cruel. “Tell them that that’s got to be faulty.”
“Why does it have to be faulty?” Gabriel picked up the ring, examining the signet closely. “This does look like the Harbor Master’s.”
“That’s what I said,” Belladonna answered with a sigh.
Milo though, was looking at all of us like we were crazy. I couldn’t help but notice how he avoided Hazel’s gaze altogether. “Are we really entertaining the idea that a cat just brought in the very ring we need. A ring, I might add, that is part of a set we just started collecting?”
I looked around the room to the rest of them. Belladonna was sipping tea, showing off a creamy expanse of thigh like normal. Gabriel was staring at Milo as if to say ‘yes, that’s exactly what I am saying’ and Hazel was readying a small satchel for her upcoming journey.
“Right,” Milo said, nodding his head with a patronizing look spreading slowly across his face. “No. Yeah. This all makes sense. Love the crazy train we already have jumped on after a day. I think that will work well for us in the future.”
“You forget, Next, I do know the Barons.” Placing the ring in the light, Gabriel twisted it several ways, looking for any sign that it was false. “I attend each of their meetings as part of my duty as a Warden. Don’t you think I would know what the Harbor Master’s ring looks like?”
“It is well known the Harbor Master in question doesn’t even attend those meetings. He sends some sort of proxy that everyone has to spend the first hour killing.”
“But he does send the ring,” Belladonna said. “Warden Caine has to send it back to the Harbor Master each time.”
Milo ran a hand down across his face. Apparently, he had given up. “Fine. You know what? Fine. It’s not an argument to have anyway. When the time comes that this whole plan doesn’t work, then we will know which ring to look at first.”
The sigh that came from Hazel was loud and intrusive. I glanced over at her as she put her pack on the counter. It had floral buttons lined across the flap and tonics hanging from several steel side hooks. “$name, do you think you could watch the shop for me? I should be back before tomorrows work but just in case I’m not–”
“You get twenty-four hours Hazel before I go down there to find you.”
Gabriel frowned at Milo’s words. It was as if he was only now noticing the tension that he had walked in on. “What is happening?”
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a good idea]]
[[Belladonna got Hazel a chance to maybe contact Malcolm and I think it’s a bad idea]]
“I’m here for a mirror. The Baron of the Deep asked me to come and find it for her.”
It was the truth. There was supposed to be nothing complicated about the truth. It was always the best course of action. Yet, the dragon's eyes narrowed.
“Thief,” he hissed. “You came down here to take what is mine?”
My heart slammed against my chest, my gaze searching the piles of junk that were littered around us. Whether the dragon had the mirror or not, I wouldn’t be able to tell. It was doubtful he even knew. All they had heard was I was down here to steal from them. Sent here by someone in power to do their bidding.
“It’s not like that,” I tried to state. It was too late.
When the dragon roared I shuddered, twisting my face away and feeling the spray from its lips coat my chest and face. Off in the distance I was briefly aware of a glowing light and all I could think was that the angler fish would come. They would help me somehow. But as I was lifted into the air, a meaty claw now wrapped around my neck, I kicked and tried to fight, clawing at the leathery scales beneath me. The dragon flung me at the cave wall and I hit it with a smack that punched the breath right out of me.
The last thing I heard before falling under, was the dragon roaring in pain.
[[Next|Chapter seven saved by spirits]]“I was here for a mirror,” I told him honestly. “But now I just want to find a way home.” I no longer cared if I succeeded in the task for the Baron. We needed her favor, but this was not the way. Sinking into an inky blackness to deal with a dragon was not what she had intended. Or at least I hoped it wasn’t.
“A mirror?”
“Something the Baron had wanted. It was what I was tasked to do. But I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Thief,” he hissed. “You came down here to take what is mine?”
My heart slammed against my chest, my gaze searching the piles of junk that were littered around us. Whether the dragon had the mirror or not, I wouldn’t be able to tell. It was doubtful he even knew. All they had heard was I was down here to steal from them. Sent here by someone in power to do their bidding.
“It’s not like that,” I tried to state. It was too late.
When the dragon roared I shuddered, twisting my face away and feeling the spray from its lips coat my chest and face. Off in the distance I was briefly aware of a glowing light and all I could think was that the angler fish would come. They would help me somehow. But as I was lifted into the air, a meaty claw now wrapped around my neck, I kicked and tried to fight, clawing at the leathery scales beneath me. The dragon flung me at the cave wall and I hit it with a smack that punched the breath right out of me.
The last thing I heard before falling under, was the dragon roaring in pain.
[[Next|Chapter seven saved by spirits]]
I was down here because of a mirror. Because the world up top was twisting itself up in knots before it would inevitably scream apart and be no more. I was here because I had made shaky relationships with people I barely knew and they had asked me to complete this task, despite my memories being tossed somewhere out of reach.
I was here because I had been an idiot who had jumped down a well, caught up in what I thought I needed to do, instead of taking a moment to think about it instead.
I swallowed thickly, staring up at the dragon. “I have no idea,” I said with a wet laugh. It bubbled from my hysterically. Why was I here? Why was I helping? Because I had a sense of loyalty that not even I understood?
Slowly, the dragon took his taloned grip away, tilting his head to the side instead. “You are lost,” he stated.
“Very much so,” I claimed, sitting up. “More so than I think I even understand.”
“How would you have even gotten down here, then?”
Rubbing a hand across my face, I breathed in deeply through my nose. “I jumped through a Baron’s well. Baron Kamille. The world up top is dying and I– I don’t know. I guess I felt like I didn’t have much of an option but to do what she asked of me. Which was to come down here and get a stupid mirror.” I looked around at the piles of junk. A dragons hoard. “Which, if you have, it’s yours.”
There was a shuffled as he backed away from me, giving me more space. Coins and gold encrusted vases fell all around him, tumbling with a switch of his tail.
“Why would it be mine if it is the task you were sent here to do?”
[[Because I’m not a thief]]
[[Because I don’t even know if the mirror exists]]
[[Because I perhaps need to gain some perspective on importance]]
“Because,” I said, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. “I’m not a thief. All of this is clearly yours and I am not going to just take it from you based on the word of someone I do not know.”
There was a low rumble of laughter that sounded through the ground.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied. “I just did not expect such honesty from you. I thought I would have to kill you.”
I tried not to shrink away at that. Or feel fear. Instead, I watched as he turned, claws sinking into the ground, leaving behind flecks of jewels. I could hear him rummaging somewhere in the back, rooting through more gold than I had ever seen. A ruby clattered to my foot, sliding right by me and down into the abyss.
“Was this what the Baron was looking for?” When he turned, he held a hand mirror from one talon. It was tarnished and ornate, the reflection of the world around glinting in the milky glass.
“I don’t know,” I told him. “She only said fishmongers stole it.”
“Then this is it.” Carefully, he slid it forward, until the object rested at my feet. It looked far larger than what it did when held within his claws. “Take it to her and tell her to keep better track of her things.”
Picking it up, I nodded, clutching the mirror to my chest. “What’s your name?”
“Malachi.”
“Thank you, Malachi. I really appreciate it.”
He huffed in response, as if the gratitude irritated him. “Exit is over there. Better hurry, landwalker. The angler fish is getting restless.”
A stone staircase wound just off to the side. One that had not been there before. I didn’t question it though. One wrong move would have put me down here forever. Giving one last look at the dragon, I watched as he settled down, head pillowed against emeralds and sapphires. As my bottom foot hit the staircase, his eyes closed.
[[Next|Return to Kamille]]
<<set $mirror to "safe">>
<<set $chapterseven to "kinddragon">>“Because I don’t even know if the mirror exists,” I told him. For all I knew, I had been put on a mission I was not supposed to return from. Maybe the Baron and her subjects were having a laugh up above. Maybe Anemone had even been in on it all.
There was a low rumble of laughter that sounded through the ground.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied. “I just did not expect such honesty from you. I thought I would have to kill you.”
I tried not to shrink away at that. Or feel fear. Instead, I watched as he turned, claws sinking into the ground, leaving behind flecks of jewels. I could hear him rummaging somewhere in the back, rooting through more gold than I had ever seen. A ruby clattered to my foot, sliding right by me and down into the abyss.
“Was this what the Baron was looking for?” When he turned, he held a hand mirror from one talon. It was tarnished and ornate, the reflection of the world around glinting in the milky glass.
“I don’t know,” I told him. “She only said fishmongers stole it.”
“Then this is it.” Carefully, he slid it forward, until the object rested at my feet. It looked far larger than what it did when held within his claws. “Take it to her and tell her to keep better track of her things.”
Picking it up, I nodded, clutching the mirror to my chest. “What’s your name?”
“Malachi.”
“Thank you, Malachi. I really appreciate it.”
He huffed in response, as if the gratitude irritated him. “Exit is over there. Better hurry, landwalker. The angler fish is getting restless.”
A stone staircase wound just off to the side. One that had not been there before. I didn’t question it though. One wrong move would have put me down here forever. Giving one last look at the dragon, I watched as he settled down, head pillowed against emeralds and sapphires. As my bottom foot hit the staircase, his eyes closed.
[[Next|Return to Kamille]]
<<set $mirror to "safe">>
<<set $chapterseven to "kinddragon">>“Because perhaps I need to gain some perspective on what is important,” I said, mostly to myself. What was I even doing. Jumping down here alone. Without the help of the people who truly knew the market. “Maybe I’m just naive,” I said.
There was a low rumble of laughter that sounded through the ground.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied. “I just did not expect such honesty from you. I thought I would have to kill you.”
I tried not to shrink away at that. Or feel fear. Instead, I watched as he turned, claws sinking into the ground, leaving behind flecks of jewels. I could hear him rummaging somewhere in the back, rooting through more gold than I had ever seen. A ruby clattered to my foot, sliding right by me and down into the abyss.
“Was this what the Baron was looking for?” When he turned, he held a hand mirror from one talon. It was tarnished and ornate, the reflection of the world around glinting in the milky glass.
“I don’t know,” I told him. “She only said fishmongers stole it.”
“Then this is it.” Carefully, he slid it forward, until the object rested at my feet. It looked far larger than what it did when held within his claws. “Take it to her and tell her to keep better track of her things.”
Picking it up, I nodded, clutching the mirror to my chest. “What’s your name?”
“Malachi.”
“Thank you, Malachi. I really appreciate it.”
He huffed in response, as if the gratitude irritated him. “Exit is over there. Better hurry, landwalker. The angler fish is getting restless.”
A stone staircase wound just off to the side. One that had not been there before. I didn’t question it though. One wrong move would have put me down here forever. Giving one last look at the dragon, I watched as he settled down, head pillowed against emeralds and sapphires. As my bottom foot hit the staircase, his eyes closed.
[[Next|Return to Kamille]]
<<set $mirror to "safe">>
<<set $chapterseven to "kinddragon">>I moved to speak but nothing came out. I could feel my body other than the pain. My mind felt as if it were melting, spreading out to fill the cracks around me. The little spirits before me tsked in lack of understanding. Disappointed that I wasn’t listening, perhaps. Or maybe just disappointed in what they saw.
//Too cold. Too cold too cold too cold//
Them or me. I couldn’t decide anymore. The voice sounded as if it could be my own but at the same time, it too slipped away. I wondered if this was how my memories had been. If they also melted in the pool I was being lowered in.
A gelatinous substance formed around me and I felt as if I were spinning. Whirling around in a circle, buoyed by the childlike faces. I could see more. Other shapes in the distance. Things that I was certain should haunt me but felt like old friends.
//Wanderer//
//Not done, Wanderer//
//Go back//
//They need you//
They did. They needed me home. To understand them when no one else could. To provide strength and comfort and care. To give them something that would foster their compassion.
I missed them.
//Go back//
I sighed. Go back, they said. Go back.
And so, I did.
[[Next|Chapter Seven wounded]]Walking around to the back gardens with the plum hydrangeas and the deep waxy leaves of ivy, I walked up to the two guards that were standing in front of the paper screened entrance to her ‘office’.
“Is she in?” I asked.
Neither of them acknowledged me. Not that I expected them to. They were here to make sure their mistress was not disturbed.
“I’m going to walk past you,” I said slowly. They both closed ranks, the threat clear. They would not be letting me by.
A sigh sounded from behind them though. “Give us a moment.”
Without hesitation the two of the peeled off, disappearing into the shadows. I didn’t know if they were going to watch us from the bushes or if they had truly left. It didn’t matter. Belladonna stood in front of me in a gown of sheer lace. It was floor length and the arms to her sleeves were bell-like. A black slip that left nothing to the imagination was beneath it all. Her hair was down in soft waves around her shoulders and her lips were blood-red, as if she had just freshly eaten.
“You look a sight, sweetling,” she cooed. “Come inside and soak in the tub. The Deep must have been harrowing.”
Every bone in my body ached. <<if $deepwounds == "true">>The recently healed gash across my back still pulled at my skin and I knew I had a few cracked ribs.<</if>> Tomorrow was sure to be painful and the idea of soaking in a tub was a blissful option I wanted to entertain. But if I didn’t get this out now, I doubted I ever would. “No, I need to get this off my chest first,” I told her, not daring to move. I didn’t want to lose my nerve.
Belladonna had already been halfway inside when I called out to her. Coyly, she looked over her shoulder, raising a brow towards me. “Oh?”
“I know you said not to fall in love with you. And I don’t know if that’s what I’m doing, but I do have feelings for you. You were one of the first kind people I had met in the Night Market. One of the first ones who offered to take care of me and was concerned about me. Not where I came from or what I could do. But me as a person. And so I know this makes you uncomfortable but, I like you. I would like to get to know you more. I would like to spend my time with you. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but there it is.”
Belladonna stared at me, the usual tilt of amusement on her lips done and gone. Instead, she ticked her gaze towards the shadows.
“Leave.” Her voice was deep and guttural and for a moment I thought she was speaking to me. But when I heard the flap of a dozen or more wings, I realized how many guards she probably had shadowing her at all times.
When the air settled once more, she looked at me, a picture of tragic sorrow. “Why did you have to say that?”
[[Because it’s how I feel]]
[[Because I thought I might die down in the Deep and I wanted you to know how I felt]]
[[Because you respect honesty and I didn’t feel like pretending it wasn’t true any longer]]
[[Because I'm an idiot]]The second the words had left my mouth I was kicking myself. What was the point in telling her any of this? Did I really think it was going to change anything? Or was I looking for some sort of pity.
“Because I’m an idiot,” I said, self-deprecatingly. “I’m an idiot who apparently doesn’t think before speaking and one who is willing to look pathetic in front of a very attractive and intelligent woman.”
Belladonna’s eyes flashed red. “Do not speak of yourself in such a way,” she snapped.
I snapped my mouth shut, feeling once again like I had done something wrong. It was so easy to feel that way in her presence. The way the air thinned around her and my blood rushed through my veins only made it worse.
When she tilted her face upwards, the pastel light of the blush colored lanterns beyond shone against her pale features. She looked younger here for some reason. Like she was trying at least to let me down easy.
“Dear heart, come and sit with me,” she requested.
Slowly, I made my way towards her, sitting next to her on the white stone bench. She smelled of night jasmine and something softer. Mustier. Grave dirt and tobacco.
“Have I ever told you how I came to the Night Market?” she asked. It wasn’t what I had expected her to say, and so I shook my head, keeping quiet. “I was seventeen. My father was a priest. He believed in the Lord with every fiber of his own being. I watched him from the time I was old enough to walk to the church myself. Every Sunday he would preach to a congregation. He would sit by the beds of the sick and dying. He would hold the hands of those who were left behind. We never really had much growing up because my father gave away anything he could spare. He was a pillar of our community.”
Leaning back on the bench, she cast her gaze forward into memory, her eyes becoming unfocused and her hands loose in her lap.
“When our world started dying, I watched him preach to his parishioners that God would save us. That He would find a way. And if He did not, then it was by His will that we were to join Him in the almighty kingdom beyond. For months, we prayed. As a family, as a community. I fasted for a full week and dedicated myself to kneeling at the altar and asking God for guidance. To please save us from what was to come. But nothing happened. And so we accepted our fate.”
I swallowed at the thought of it. A young Belladonna. A child, really. Accepting that she was to die.
“Then, on the day the sky turned red, there was a door. It opened right outside the church and I remember running to it, knowing, just knowing there was something on the other side. Salvation. When I went to tell my father he said no, however. That that was the devil’s work. Not the Lords. He refused to let me tell anyone what I had seen and for days he dispelled any rumor that this was an answer to our prayers.
“On the final day, as the sky began to crack open, I begged him to let people open the door. We had children within our home. We had the elderly, able-bodied. Everyone. We could have walked through together. God had answered our prayers. But, my father said no. He said he would rather die a godly man than one that fell to deceit during the final hour.” She laughed, though the sound pained her. “So, I ran. I burst through the front door and I ran towards the gate and behind me, I could smell the fires starting to burn and the villagers starting to scream. But I didn’t look back. I walked into the Night Market knowing everyone I had ever known and loved, was dead behind me.”
The weight of her words hung heavy and thick between us. They coated the night air in a truth that was rarely thought upon anymore as the harsh reality of how most came to be in the market itself, made itself known.
“$name,” Belladonna said softly. Never before had she called me by my name. Not once. “I am unsurprised by your declaration, but I am afraid it changes nothing. I lost my heart that day. I do not have it to give to anyone else. So,” she rose from her seat. “If you wish to pay me, I would be happy to pretend that I am your doting love. But otherwise, I advise for you to go home, dear heart. Go back to Hazel’s and curl up in your bed. Another love will be along. One who can give you their whole heart.”
Walking back into her office, she left me within the garden, alone.
[[Next|Chapter Seven B end]]
The three of us wandered over to the small eating area. A familiar place that was now becoming far more comforting than it had been the first day I had stiffly sat upon those cushions, unsure what my life entailed next.
“I invited Gabriel and Belladonna over this morning. They of course are both very curious about how everything went. Another gate opened yesterday, so Gabriel has been dealing with that.”
Sitting down, Milo sighed, leaning his forearms against his knees. “Where did the gate open?”
“Outside of Renaissance alley,” I told him. “That’s where I popped out, and I couldn’t get home until the Guard had everything under control.”
“Oh, Renaissance alley is lovely,” Hazel said. “They have such pretty bundles of herbs there. And their soaps rival the rain markets.”
“I met back up with Caliban. He uh- he was in the cell next to me when I first arrived at the Night Market.”
“I’m glad you had someone familiar there when you came back,” Hazel said, smiling softly. I thought about how she would have had to navigate home on her own, unsure what was going on with me or even if we were succeeding. That, and having seen her brother for the first time in years.
It loomed over us, an awkward shift in the room.
“$name already told me,” Milo answered. When Hazel tipped her head up towards him, it was with obvious trepidation.
“It was him, Milo. I know it was,” she whispered.
Milo didn’t say whether he agreed. He only nodded. I thought that would be the end of it. That maybe I had headed a storm off at the pass. But with Milo’s next words, I watched as the blood drained from Hazel’s face, guilt clouding her eyes.
“Where are all the birds, Hazel?” Milo asked. “That back area near the creek used to be full of wildlife. Where are they?”
The front door dinged as Gabriel stepped through. He was dressed in a heavier cloak to beat back the cold, his hair slicked back and eyes piercing like normal. When they fell upon the three of us, hovering down in the sunken alcove, the barest of frown tipped at his lips.
“Good morning,” he said in greeting. He looked at me, nodding. “I heard from Caliban that you made it safely out of the Deep. It was an odd discussion though I am happy to hear that you are for the most part okay.” He frowned as he looked at the few bruises and cuts still littering my skin. “Though I suppose his definition of okay and mine are a tad different.”
Normally, I would have responded to that, but Hazel and Milo were still locked in a battle with each other, their gazes locked on in a silent stalemate. I could see the tears filling Hazel’s eyes and the way Milo was shutting down.
“Did I interrupt something,” Gabriel asked, clearly reading the room.
I swallowed. “We may have made contact with Malcolm in the Deep,” I answered for them. It was probably better that it was all out on the table now.
“You can’t know that,” Milo said frustrated. Normally, Hazel would stay quiet but whatever had happened in the Deep had lit a renewed fire in her when it came to her brother. Now, she whirled on Milo instead.
“And you can’t know that we are even wrong,” she snapped.
“Right or wrong isn’t really the issue here,” he told her. “It’s what you are doing that bothers me far more.”
[[Hazel, what is he talking about?]]
[[Milo, leave her alone]]
[[Maybe we should table this for now]]“How lovely,” I said, hoping I kept the sneer from my voice. I had to play the part and stay the course. This wasn’t about me or my feelings, but about gaining this man's favor. The vow I made to myself, however, was that when the market was saved, when the people here had a world to go to, I would come back and set them free. No one should have to live under this man's thumb.
Not even Gabriel.
I glanced over at Gabriel. His face was tight, and his fingers gripped his fork. There was a slight bend in the silverware. I couldn’t imagine how this man was ever considered his father. What had happened to keep Gabriel from the insanity that clearly shown behind those lavender eyes? Nothing in me believed that this man could have had any sort of positive influence on Gabriel. Their point of connection ended strictly with the fact that they had both fallen from an unknown world that felt surreal and untouchable at this point.
When a gasp struck through the room, I startled, looking over to where a maid was quickly trying to wipe away the water upon Gabriel’s coat. She had moved forward to refill his glass and had tripped, tipping the carafe across his forearm. It was barely damp, from what I could see. She had caught herself in time despite her shoes looking too small, her feet squished into ballet like slippers that were tinged in blood.
“I am so sorry, Sir Warden,” she said. Her smile was still in place.
“It is nothing,” Gabriel said, grabbing at one of his napkins. At the head of the table though, I heard something pop.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 4]]
I stared at him. “I was part of that trade.”
His eyes turned to me, bright and excited. “Were you? Oh, how darling! I wish I would have seen you when you were in there. I would have snatched you up and taken you under my wing. Though,” he looked at Gabriel with a knowing smile. “I believe my boy here has done that all on his own.” Reaching out, he placed a hand on Gabriel’s arm. “I am so proud of you, son. You have always needed help. I am so glad you are taking advantage of the perks that the Velvet Guard has to offer.”
Pushing back from the table, I shook my head. “I can’t. I’m not going to sit here and listen to this. It’s disgusting. You are talking about individuals like they are pieces of meat. You shouldn’t be able to buy them.”
Elias’s head tipped to the side. “Shouldn’t you? If you are dirty, what gives you the right to taint the streets? Why should the rest of us have to sit and be around such squalor? I why should I, a being of light and joy, not help those in need?”
I stared at the man. Every inch of him believed what he was saying. There was such a placid curiosity on his face that I knew it was a delusion he had argued time and time again. Elias was a lost cause. He would not change his mindset. But, Gabriel. Gabriel was the one I was far more interested in at this moment.
I glanced over at Gabriel. His face was tight, and his fingers gripped his fork. There was a slight bend in the silverware. I couldn’t imagine how this man was ever considered his father. What had happened to keep Gabriel from the insanity that clearly shown behind those lavender eyes? Nothing in me believed that this man could have had any sort of positive influence on Gabriel. Their point of connection ended strictly with the fact that they had both fallen from an unknown world that felt surreal and untouchable at this point.
When a gasp struck through the room, I startled, looking over to where a maid was quickly trying to wipe away the water upon Gabriel’s coat. She had moved forward to refill his glass and had tripped, tipping the carafe across his forearm. It was barely damp, from what I could see. She had caught herself in time despite her shoes looking too small, her feet squished into ballet like slippers that were tinged in blood.
“I am so sorry, Sir Warden,” she said. Her smile was still in place.
“It is nothing,” Gabriel said, grabbing at one of his napkins. At the head of the table though, I heard something pop.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 4]]
I didn’t trust myself to speak. If I opened my mouth, I would start screaming. I wanted to lay into this man, tell him that he wasn’t creating a world of perfection. That the world he was creating was one of coercion and deceit. But, it would end in us leaving with no favor. We would fail. So I kept my mouth shut, not daring to even look at the pale skinned man with the stretched smile.
I glanced over at Gabriel. His face was tight, and his fingers gripped his fork. There was a slight bend in the silverware. I couldn’t imagine how this man was ever considered his father. What had happened to keep Gabriel from the insanity that clearly shown behind those lavender eyes? Nothing in me believed that this man could have had any sort of positive influence on Gabriel. Their point of connection ended strictly with the fact that they had both fallen from an unknown world that felt surreal and untouchable at this point.
When a gasp struck through the room, I startled, looking over to where a maid was quickly trying to wipe away the water upon Gabriel’s coat. She had moved forward to refill his glass and had tripped, tipping the carafe across his forearm. It was barely damp, from what I could see. She had caught herself in time despite her shoes looking too small, her feet squished into ballet like slippers that were tinged in blood.
“I am so sorry, Sir Warden,” she said. Her smile was still in place.
“It is nothing,” Gabriel said, grabbing at one of his napkins. At the head of the table though, I heard something pop.
[[Next|Chapter Eight 4]]
I ran over to the woman. She was cowering, arms placed over her head as she curled in on herself, trying to stay small. I could hear her gentle sobs and the repetition that she was sorry, over and over again.
Placing my hand on her shoulder, I watched as she flinched. Quickly I pulled away, kneeling down to try and catch her eye. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes were red rimmed. Up close, I could see the healing scars. White lines like spiderwebs arched across the right side of her face.
“Please. I’ll do better,” she said. “Don’t tell the Knowing. Don’t let them see.”
I didn’t understand what she was saying, or how the Knowing would even see her, but I didn’t think it mattered. The woman was gone from me. Too afraid to move on my command and far too afraid to do anything but grovel.
Elias breathed deeply, a ragged wheeze whistling through the air. His hand shook, the knife wavering. When he dropped it, it was with a clatter.
“Leave,” he told the doll.
All of them scattered from the room, terrified mice, going to hide in their corners.
Gabriel stared at his so-called father, his eyes a bright silver, as slowly, Elias shrunk back down to the height of a boy.
“I am sorry, Gabriel. I do not know what came over me.” He lifted lavender eyes to him, pleading for understanding and forgiveness.
Gabriel shook his head. “You will be giving $name your favor and we will be leaving.”
A tear rolled down Elias’s cheek, catching on the split in his skin. “Oh, please no. It’s been so long.”
“As a Warden of the market I cannot sit by and watch this.”
Elias lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Gabriel. “Please, please don’t go, son. I have missed you. It is so lonely here.” His hands clawed at him, scraping against Gabriel’s arms in desperation. Gabriel only took him by the shoulders and held the weeping man at arms length. “The Knowing demand's perfection,” Elias wailed.
“Not like this,” Gabriel said. “Never like this.”
Elias slumped in Gabriel’s hold, suddenly boneless. I stared on in horror, still feeling as if I could hear the distance cries throughout the house. Disgust and hate filled me. All things I had felt upon viewing the flesh pit for the first time. Upon seeing the cages on the beach. It was men like this that had the power to stop it. Yet they were held up in their pristine estates, torturing those that were truly lost.
“Give ?them your favor, Elias,” Gabriel demanded. “Now.”
Sniffing, Elias finally pulled away. His face looked older suddenly. Cracks and faults tearing across him in shreds. Nothing of the perfection he hoarded was there any longer. With a sob, he reached up to his cheek, pulling at one of the black threads. It came away silver and bright, falling into my out turned hand.
“We will be leaving now.” Gabriel took me by the arm, giving me no option as we navigated our way out of the house.
The entire walk down the drive, the Dollmaker’s wails followed.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Eight Gabriel End]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Hazel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Milo End]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Belladonna End]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Eight - Platonic]]<</if>>The woman was cowering, muttering to herself and rocking back and forth on her heels. I looked at Elias, my hands clenching at my sides. “What is wrong with you? This is your perfection? Hurting people so thoroughly that they can’t even walk? That they turn away in fear over the tiniest mistake?”
Elias didn’t answer me. Nor did he look at the woman. There was something behind his eyes that spoke of the madness I had heard so frequently of. A swirling, voidless black that curled across his pale skin, cracking the unmarked surface with every little sin that he tried to hide. Beneath makeup and scalpels, he had tried to erase what he perceived as failure. But it was now all laid bare, a feast for us to all partake in.
Elias breathed deeply, a ragged wheeze whistling through the air. His hand shook, the knife wavering. When he dropped it, it was with a clatter.
“Leave,” he told the doll.
All of them scattered from the room, terrified mice, going to hide in their corners.
Gabriel stared at his so-called father, his eyes a bright silver, as slowly, Elias shrunk back down to the height of a boy.
“I am sorry, Gabriel. I do not know what came over me.” He lifted lavender eyes to him, pleading for understanding and forgiveness.
Gabriel shook his head. “You will be giving $name your favor and we will be leaving.”
A tear rolled down Elias’s cheek, catching on the split in his skin. “Oh, please no. It’s been so long.”
“As a Warden of the market I cannot sit by and watch this.”
Elias lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Gabriel. “Please, please don’t go, son. I have missed you. It is so lonely here.” His hands clawed at him, scraping against Gabriel’s arms in desperation. Gabriel only took him by the shoulders and held the weeping man at arms length. “The Knowing demand's perfection,” Elias wailed.
“Not like this,” Gabriel said. “Never like this.”
Elias slumped in Gabriel’s hold, suddenly boneless. I stared on in horror, still feeling as if I could hear the distance cries throughout the house. Disgust and hate filled me. All things I had felt upon viewing the flesh pit for the first time. Upon seeing the cages on the beach. It was men like this that had the power to stop it. Yet they were held up in their pristine estates, torturing those that were truly lost.
“Give ?them your favor, Elias,” Gabriel demanded. “Now.”
Sniffing, Elias finally pulled away. His face looked older suddenly. Cracks and faults tearing across him in shreds. Nothing of the perfection he hoarded was there any longer. With a sob, he reached up to his cheek, pulling at one of the black threads. It came away silver and bright, falling into my out turned hand.
“We will be leaving now.” Gabriel took me by the arm, giving me no option as we navigated our way out of the house.
The entire walk down the drive, the Dollmaker’s wails followed.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Eight Gabriel End]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Hazel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Milo End]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Belladonna End]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Eight - Platonic]]<</if>>The woman was cowering, muttering to herself and rocking back and forth on her heels. I turned to Gabriel, feeling the same disgust I had felt when I first met him. It consumed me now. Renewed as the woman continued to cry.
“Tell me again how your system works so well, Warden,” I sneered. “Tell me how this,” I motioned to the woman, “is a law that should be upheld at all costs.”
Gabriel stared at the woman, true remorse filling his eyes.
“Both of you disgust me,” I told them. “Anyone who thinks this is okay, disgusts me. This is not perfection. This is not the law. This is cruelty. This is the treatment of a living soul like cattle. As far as I’m concerned, you were both kicked from the Knowings embrace, if the Knowing even exists, for a damn good reason.”
“How dare you,” Elias shrieked. He was running across the room to me, knife brandished, eyes black and wild. A crack sounded through the room, sending him sprawling back. Gabriel was breathing heavily, the woman was still weeping, and the Dollmaker’s skin was splitting open to reveal all his sins.
Elias breathed deeply, a ragged wheeze whistling through the air. His hand shook, the knife wavering. When he dropped it, it was with a clatter.
“Leave,” he told the doll.
All of them scattered from the room, terrified mice, going to hide in their corners.
Gabriel stared at his so-called father, his eyes a bright silver, as slowly, Elias shrunk back down to the height of a boy.
“I am sorry, Gabriel. I do not know what came over me.” He lifted lavender eyes to him, pleading for understanding and forgiveness.
Gabriel shook his head. “You will be giving $name your favor and we will be leaving.”
A tear rolled down Elias’s cheek, catching on the split in his skin. “Oh, please no. It’s been so long.”
“As a Warden of the market I cannot sit by and watch this.”
Elias lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Gabriel. “Please, please don’t go, son. I have missed you. It is so lonely here.” His hands clawed at him, scraping against Gabriel’s arms in desperation. Gabriel only took him by the shoulders and held the weeping man at arms length. “The Knowing demand's perfection,” Elias wailed.
“Not like this,” Gabriel said. “Never like this.”
Elias slumped in Gabriel’s hold, suddenly boneless. I stared on in horror, still feeling as if I could hear the distant cries throughout the house. Disgust and hate filled me. All the things I had felt upon viewing the flesh pit for the first time. Upon seeing the cages on the beach. It was men like this that had the power to stop it. Yet they were held up in their pristine estates, torturing those that were truly lost.
“Give ?them your favor, Elias,” Gabriel demanded. “Now.”
Sniffing, Elias finally pulled away. His face looked older suddenly. Cracks and faults tearing across him in shreds. Nothing of the perfection he hoarded was there any longer. With a sob, he reached up to his cheek, pulling at one of the black threads. It came away silver and bright, falling into my out turned hand.
“We will be leaving now.” Gabriel took me by the arm, giving me no option as we navigated our way out of the house.
The entire walk down the drive, the Dollmaker’s wails followed.
<<if $gabrielro == "true">> [[Next|Chapter Eight Gabriel End]]
<<elseif $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Hazel]]
<<elseif $miloro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Milo End]]
<<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">>[[Next|Chapter Eight Belladonna End]]
<<elseif $relationship == "false">>[[Next|Chapter Eight - Platonic]]<</if>>Some risks were not worth taking. I had thought about that a lot as of late. How there were risks in life where the consequences far outweighed any of the gains. Caliban was one of those. He was a moment I wished I could do differently. But talking to this man, while it felt like a risk, it also felt far more like a strategic move than anything else. A way to get us one step closer to our goal. Because if he was telling the truth, then he probably knew far more than the ones caught up in the bustle of the market did.
“Any rumors circling on the Gatekeeper?” I asked casually.
There was a gleeful chuckle that game from him as he rubbed his hands together. “One of my favorite topics,” he crooned. “Do you know much about the first Gatekeeper?”
I paused. “I don’t.” It hadn’t even come up as a topic of conversation. Compared to the person we were looking for now, they felt entirely unimportant.
“The first Gatekeeper was said to have lit the first lantern within the Night Market. Breathing sentient life into a world that had merely existed before, chained by the ancients.”
“What do you mean ‘chained by the ancients’?”
“Oho, I see you do not know your Night Market history. The ancients were the first beings to settle in this realm. They lived underground and created an entire city beneath our feet. But the world was sleeping. Didn’t even know that anyone had settled upon them. Until, the Gatekeeper.” Tallard’s eyes were alight with story, the milkiness from them fading. “You see, the Gatekeeper thought they were just lighting the world. Giving a little hope to the darkness. But they woke the world and ended up causing great pain to this young little realm that didn’t understand what was happening. So, the Gatekeeper vowed to protect the Night Market. Righting a wrong they unwittingly created.”
“So the first Gatekeeper had nothing to do with gates in the beginning?”
Tallard tilted his head to the side. “I guess not,” he laughed. “Never really gave that one much thought.” As his laughter died, I felt a bit sorry for the man. A natural storyteller with no one to talk to. Just another soul to add to the list, I supposed. “Now,” he continued. “The current Gatekeeper is a different story but just as tragic.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, whoever they are, they are responsible for a world far larger than the first Gatekeeper ever intended. The beginning of the world as we knew it had a few gates from what we know, and far less people. Now, I don’t even think we know how many live beneath the lanterns. And, we are uncertain if anyone is lurking underground or how many have settled in the outskirts. The current Gatekeeper has an impossible job.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Not really. The idea that there were only nine Barons to run the world had been laughable, but I had never taken it down to the context of one individual, responsible for all the comings and goings, and what an insurmountable task that would even be.
“But,” Tallard waved his hand. “Perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe they have cracked the code. Or maybe we don’t have one at all. Any particular reason you are curious about the Gatekeeper?” he asked.
[[I want to learn more about the history of the market]]
[[I'm looking for them]]
[[I hear a lot about one of the past Gatekeepers]]Some risks were not worth taking. I had thought about that a lot as of late. How there were risks in life where the consequences far outweighed any of the gains. But talking to this man, while it felt like a risk, it also felt far more like a strategic move than anything else. A way to get us one step closer to our goal. Because if he was telling the truth, then he probably knew far more than the ones caught up in the bustle of the market did.
“Any news on the veil ripping?” I asked casually. How many people knew their lives were in danger and how many of them wandered the streets, assuming that they were going to live forever?
“The veil has ripped a few times, I think.”
I whirled around, starting at him in concern. “Excuse me?”
“End of the world, correct?” He shook his head. “I’m old but I’m not that old. I haven’t lived through one of them. But, there are some texts in the Outlands and beneath the Night Market itself, that suggest the veil ripping is a cycle of sorts. Something that happens every so often. Though, on something so important, I don’t know if we should be so casual about it.”
I blinked at him, reeling from the new information. “Would you be able to show me where these texts are?”
He patted his leg. “Most likely not. But a map? That I might be able to provide. What I wouldn’t have given to be younger and on an adventure again,” he bemoaned. “I will gladly foster such an experience for you.”
If we could find a map that led us to events similar to the ones we were combating now, there might be a way. Something to guide us so we weren’t fumbling in the dark any longer.
“Tell you what,” he said, leaning forward. “I’ll do some digging and next month, if you could deliver my tea again, I’ll have something for you.”
[[That is beyond generous of you]]
[[What is the cost?]]
[[You have no idea how much this will help]]There were an infinite amount of souls in the Night Market. They filtered in and out, coming and going, expanding the realm to full capacity. Secrets were tucked away in every corner, timelines and realities merged into a confusing conglomeration of personalities. It made me hesitant to tell anyone anything. Especially a stranger. But, I was curious. What exactly did this man have to offer?
“How about you tell me the most interesting bit of new you’ve heard,” I told him. “I’m not looking for anything particular. I just like stories.”
He grinned at me. A set of teeth that looked odd in his mouth gleamed at me through parched lips. “I am a purveyor of stories myself,” he said. “Let’s see.” Tapping his chin, he thought about it for a long moment, searching his thoughts for the juiciest bit of information he knew. “The spirits have been whispering,” he commented. “There is quite the sacrifice brewing.”
I paused, looking at the man curiously. “You speak with spirits.”
He hummed in response. “They sing out here in the mist. I am unsure if the veil is thinner or if I just have a particular batch of gossipers right now, but at night, it is hard not to hear them.”
“And they are speaking of a sacrifice?”
“A bold one,” he said. “One to try to snap the ties of fate. They seem rather frightened.”
I noted that. It was worth remembering, given how in flux the market was. I didn’t know if it would affect us or not. “They say anything else?”
“No. That’s the one they are focused on right now. That and they abhor the smell of myrrh.”
I laughed a little at that, finding it far funnier than I probably should have. Hazel had copious amounts of myrrh in the shop. I couldn’t blame them.
“I’ll make sure to put a note in your file that you may need help preparing the tea. Milo probably should have done that already.”
“Good old, Milo. Sweet boy. Seemed a bit tired the last time I saw him. Everything okay with him today? I really was surprised that he wasn’t the one at my door.”
“He’s fine,” I lied. Milo was not. I had overheard him getting a tea from Hazel last night. His insomnia was getting to the point where he wasn’t sleeping and he was finally giving in to asking for help. “He was just busy this morning. I wasn’t. Thought I’d run it out here. Besides, I like the walks sometimes. Helps me get to know the market a bit more.”
The kettle began to simmer behind me as I pulled out the tea that Hazel had packed. “Do you have a strainer?”
“Oh, I do. Somewhere.” He waved his curled hand. “Think it's on one of those three shelves. Forgive me. Everything gets a bit hazy on the full moon. Don’t quite remember where everything is at times.”
Rummaging around, I found a tea strainer and a mug to place everything in. Pouring the herbs out, I began to seep the brew, watching as the water began to change color as I placed it on a trivet before him.
“You know,” Tallard responded. “I think it’s a good thing you are here rather than Milo. Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s needed some time off. Lots of interpersonal drama going on with that boy.”
[[Does Milo sit and talk to you often?]]
[[What do you mean by interpersonal drama?]]
[[How long have you known Milo?]]“This history is fascinating,” I told him. “And not a lot of people seem to know about it.”
“It’s dying, as all history does. There are some of us that are still willing to keep the old tales alive, however. And if all else fails, there is always the Book Baron. I hear they are fastidious with their history. Or, at least the husband is. The wife prefers pursuits of vengeance rather than pursuits of knowledge.”
It was not the image I had of Chrysanthemum, though I had only met with her once.
“I’ll make sure to put a note in your file that you may need help preparing the tea. Milo probably should have done that already.”
“Good old, Milo. Sweet boy. Seemed a bit tired the last time I saw him. Everything okay with him today? I really was surprised that he wasn’t the one at my door.”
“He’s fine,” I lied. Milo was not. I had overheard him getting a tea from Hazel last night. His insomnia was getting to the point where he wasn’t sleeping and he was finally giving in to asking for help. “He was just busy this morning. I wasn’t. Thought I’d run it out here. Besides, I like the walks sometimes. Helps me get to know the market a bit more.”
The kettle began to simmer behind me as I pulled out the tea that Hazel had packed. “Do you have a strainer?”
“Oh, I do. Somewhere.” He waved his curled hand. “Think it's on one of those three shelves. Forgive me. Everything gets a bit hazy on the full moon. Don’t quite remember where everything is at times.”
Rummaging around, I found a tea strainer and a mug to place everything in. Pouring the herbs out, I began to seep the brew, watching as the water began to change color as I placed it on a trivet before him.
“You know,” Tallard responded. “I think it’s a good thing you are here rather than Milo. Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s needed some time off. Lots of interpersonal drama going on with that boy.”
[[Does Milo sit and talk to you often?]]
[[What do you mean by interpersonal drama?]]
[[How long have you known Milo?]]“I’m looking for the Gatekeeper,” I told him honestly. Because what did I really have to lose.
“Aren’t we all?” Tallard laughed. “I heard trade within the markets is going down and districts can’t get the supplies they need. Though, I think most of them are simply cheap and needed an invisible scapegoat for their customers to put their blame on.”
That sounded about right for the market.
“I’ll make sure to put a note in your file that you may need help preparing the tea. Milo probably should have done that already.”
“Good old, Milo. Sweet boy. Seemed a bit tired the last time I saw him. Everything okay with him today? I really was surprised that he wasn’t the one at my door.”
“He’s fine,” I lied. Milo was not. I had overheard him getting a tea from Hazel last night. His insomnia was getting to the point where he wasn’t sleeping and he was finally giving in to asking for help. “He was just busy this morning. I wasn’t. Thought I’d run it out here. Besides, I like the walks sometimes. Helps me get to know the market a bit more.”
The kettle began to simmer behind me as I pulled out the tea that Hazel had packed. “Do you have a strainer?”
“Oh, I do. Somewhere.” He waved his curled hand. “Think it's on one of those three shelves. Forgive me. Everything gets a bit hazy on the full moon. Don’t quite remember where everything is at times.”
Rummaging around, I found a tea strainer and a mug to place everything in. Pouring the herbs out, I began to seep the brew, watching as the water began to change color as I placed it on a trivet before him.
“You know,” Tallard responded. “I think it’s a good thing you are here rather than Milo. Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s needed some time off. Lots of interpersonal drama going on with that boy.”
[[Does Milo sit and talk to you often?]]
[[What do you mean by interpersonal drama?]]
[[How long have you known Milo?]]“One of the previous Gatekeeper is someone I’ve heard a lot about in the recent months. It’s got me curious about the role, really.”
“Not many know the previous Gatekeepers by name. If you do, I would consider it good luck. Or perhaps bad,” he chuckled. “Depends on how you look at it, really.”
I hadn’t thought of that yet. If Haze really did succeed in getting Malcolm back to the market, would knowing who he once was paint a target on my back as well? Though, I supposed being the namekeeper, I had already done that.
“I’ll make sure to put a note in your file that you may need help preparing the tea. Milo probably should have done that already.”
“Good old, Milo. Sweet boy. Seemed a bit tired the last time I saw him. Everything okay with him today? I really was surprised that he wasn’t the one at my door.”
“He’s fine,” I lied. Milo was not. I had overheard him getting a tea from Hazel last night. His insomnia was getting to the point where he wasn’t sleeping and he was finally giving in to asking for help. “He was just busy this morning. I wasn’t. Thought I’d run it out here. Besides, I like the walks sometimes. Helps me get to know the market a bit more.”
The kettle began to simmer behind me as I pulled out the tea that Hazel had packed. “Do you have a strainer?”
“Oh, I do. Somewhere.” He waved his curled hand. “Think it's on one of those three shelves. Forgive me. Everything gets a bit hazy on the full moon. Don’t quite remember where everything is at times.”
Rummaging around, I found a tea strainer and a mug to place everything in. Pouring the herbs out, I began to seep the brew, watching as the water began to change color as I placed it on a trivet before him.
“You know,” Tallard responded. “I think it’s a good thing you are here rather than Milo. Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s needed some time off. Lots of interpersonal drama going on with that boy.”
[[Does Milo sit and talk to you often?]]
[[What do you mean by interpersonal drama?]]
[[How long have you known Milo?]]“This is beyond generous of you,” I told him. Compared to my initial meeting in the market, the people I had run across since had mostly be helpful. For no other reason than it was the right thing to do. Maybe the others were jaded. Maybe they had lived in the world for so long that they forgot that individuals in general, wanted to do the right thing.
“I don’t know what it is you are looking for exactly,” he said. “Though I have a bit of a suspicion. I only hope I can help.”
I smiled at him in gratitude, watching as his milky eyes seemed to grow a bit clearer the longer we talked.
“I’ll make sure to put a note in your file that you may need help preparing the tea. Milo probably should have done that already.”
“Good old, Milo. Sweet boy. Seemed a bit tired the last time I saw him. Everything okay with him today? I really was surprised that he wasn’t the one at my door.”
“He’s fine,” I lied. Milo was not. I had overheard him getting a tea from Hazel last night. His insomnia was getting to the point where he wasn’t sleeping and he was finally giving in to asking for help. “He was just busy this morning. I wasn’t. Thought I’d run it out here. Besides, I like the walks sometimes. Helps me get to know the market a bit more.”
The kettle began to simmer behind me as I pulled out the tea that Hazel had packed. “Do you have a strainer?”
“Oh, I do. Somewhere.” He waved his curled hand. “Think it's on one of those three shelves. Forgive me. Everything gets a bit hazy on the full moon. Don’t quite remember where everything is at times.”
Rummaging around, I found a tea strainer and a mug to place everything in. Pouring the herbs out, I began to seep the brew, watching as the water began to change color as I placed it on a trivet before him.
“You know,” Tallard responded. “I think it’s a good thing you are here rather than Milo. Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s needed some time off. Lots of interpersonal drama going on with that boy.”
[[Does Milo sit and talk to you often?]]
[[What do you mean by interpersonal drama?]]
[[How long have you known Milo?]]“And what is this going to cost me?” I asked.
Tallard howled in laughter at that. “Oh, you’ve been around the market a few times, huh? Everything comes with a price.” Slapping his leg, I noticed he didn’t flinch as the knotted bone was hit. “It’ll cost you something quite simply, really. A conversation. When you come back, would you mind sitting with this old man? Chatting with me? I do enjoy your company.”
“I think I can do that,” I said slowly.
“Then, we have a deal.”
A deal. A deal to just entertain a lonely old man in trade for information that could very well save the world. I doubted he knew how he had potentially changed the course of the realm.
“I’ll make sure to put a note in your file that you may need help preparing the tea. Milo probably should have done that already.”
“Good old, Milo. Sweet boy. Seemed a bit tired the last time I saw him. Everything okay with him today? I really was surprised that he wasn’t the one at my door.”
“He’s fine,” I lied. Milo was not. I had overheard him getting a tea from Hazel last night. His insomnia was getting to the point where he wasn’t sleeping and he was finally giving in to asking for help. “He was just busy this morning. I wasn’t. Thought I’d run it out here. Besides, I like the walks sometimes. Helps me get to know the market a bit more.”
The kettle began to simmer behind me as I pulled out the tea that Hazel had packed. “Do you have a strainer?”
“Oh, I do. Somewhere.” He waved his curled hand. “Think it's on one of those three shelves. Forgive me. Everything gets a bit hazy on the full moon. Don’t quite remember where everything is at times.”
Rummaging around, I found a tea strainer and a mug to place everything in. Pouring the herbs out, I began to seep the brew, watching as the water began to change color as I placed it on a trivet before him.
“You know,” Tallard responded. “I think it’s a good thing you are here rather than Milo. Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s needed some time off. Lots of interpersonal drama going on with that boy.”
[[Does Milo sit and talk to you often?]]
[[What do you mean by interpersonal drama?]]
[[How long have you known Milo?]]“You have no idea how much this is going to help,” I told him earnestly. “The market is not doing well and a group of us have been scrambling to try and find information that could aid us. But so far, we’ve been coming up dry.”
“Have you tried talking to the Barons?” he asked curiously.
“Yes.” I spoke with hesitancy. But really, the man could barely move on his own. He couldn’t even brew tea. What exactly was he going to do with the information.
“I’ll help in any way I can,” he told me. “I just hope that what I can give you is enough.”
“Anything will help,” I assured him. There was a potent sense of relief swarming me over the potential this information would provide.
“I’ll make sure to put a note in your file that you may need help preparing the tea. Milo probably should have done that already.”
“Good old, Milo. Sweet boy. Seemed a bit tired the last time I saw him. Everything okay with him today? I really was surprised that he wasn’t the one at my door.”
“He’s fine,” I lied. Milo was not. I had overheard him getting a tea from Hazel last night. His insomnia was getting to the point where he wasn’t sleeping and he was finally giving in to asking for help. “He was just busy this morning. I wasn’t. Thought I’d run it out here. Besides, I like the walks sometimes. Helps me get to know the market a bit more.”
The kettle began to simmer behind me as I pulled out the tea that Hazel had packed. “Do you have a strainer?”
“Oh, I do. Somewhere.” He waved his curled hand. “Think it's on one of those three shelves. Forgive me. Everything gets a bit hazy on the full moon. Don’t quite remember where everything is at times.”
Rummaging around, I found a tea strainer and a mug to place everything in. Pouring the herbs out, I began to seep the brew, watching as the water began to change color as I placed it on a trivet before him.
“You know,” Tallard responded. “I think it’s a good thing you are here rather than Milo. Now that I’m thinking about it, he’s needed some time off. Lots of interpersonal drama going on with that boy.”
[[Does Milo sit and talk to you often?]]
[[What do you mean by interpersonal drama?]]
[[How long have you known Milo?]]“He acted like he knew you well.” Though now I was wondering h much of that was actually true. With the way that Milo was looking at me, the story that I had received might have been far from the truth. “The way he talked, it actually sounded like you two might be close?” Milo didn’t show his emotions. The nightmares that plagued him were kept under wraps. For a man on the outskirts of town to have not only witnessed it, but walked him back, felt unnatural. Then again, I could only imagine the embarrassment that Milo would have over something like that. Maybe that was why he had suddenly gone pale.
“Look, $name, if you have another delivery to him, let me handle it.”
I raised my brow. “Do you want to explain why?”
Milo stopped abruptly, nearly sending me toppling into the cobblestone wall. “Just don’t go near him,” he said. “He’s going to act like a kindly old man but he’s not. That man is the most manipulative son of a bitch the market has ever known. Stay away from him.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Swallowing, he closed his eyes, breathing through his nose. “Please,” he whispered. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”
I stepped up to him, wrapping my arms around him and feeling the fear inched across his skin. “Alright,” I reassured him, running my hand up and down his back. “I didn’t know.” The conversation was far from over, but it wasn’t worth having now. Not with Caliban on the horizon.<<elseif $miloro == "false">> There was an edge to his voice I hadn’t heard before. Whispers of the type of man Milo used to be followed him through the market. I had a feeling I was seeing a glimpse of it now.
“I’ll let you know if I have to do another one,” I told him. The conversation was far from over, but it wasn’t worth having given what was ahead of us. <</if>>
Nodding, Milo took great pains to calm himself down. “Sorry. I just– shit. Sorry. Tallard is just someone that has screwed me over before. I don’t want to see the same happen to you.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Letting the tension bleed from his shoulders, he shook his head. “Nah. We got to go catch a bird first. Rain check?”
I highly doubted he’d bring it up again.
[[Next|To Caliban’s]]“Why do you suddenly look petrified?” Milo had gone ghost white, his hands curled against his hips but shaking all the same. There were many reasons to be afraid in this world. I had encountered quite a few of them in my short time, but the mention of Tallard practically send the man before me spinning.
“I’m not afraid of him,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Milo, if there is something I should know, just tell me. I didn’t–”
“Look, $name, if you have another delivery to him, let me handle it.”
I raised my brow. “Do you want to explain why?”
Milo stopped abruptly, nearly sending me toppling into the cobblestone wall. “Just don’t go near him,” he said. “He’s going to act like a kindly old man but he’s not. That man is the most manipulative son of a bitch the market has ever known. Stay away from him.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Swallowing, he closed his eyes, breathing through his nose. “Please,” he whispered. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”
I stepped up to him, wrapping my arms around him and feeling the fear inched across his skin. “Alright,” I reassured him, running my hand up and down his back. “I didn’t know.” The conversation was far from over, but it wasn’t worth having now. Not with Caliban on the horizon.<<elseif $miloro == "false">> There was an edge to his voice I hadn’t heard before. Whispers of the type of man Milo used to be followed him through the market. I had a feeling I was seeing a glimpse of it now.
“I’ll let you know if I have to do another one,” I told him. The conversation was far from over, but it wasn’t worth having given what was ahead of us. <</if>>
Nodding, Milo took great pains to calm himself down. “Sorry. I just– shit. Sorry. Tallard is just someone that has screwed me over before. I don’t want to see the same happen to you.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Letting the tension bleed from his shoulders, he shook his head. “Nah. We got to go catch a bird first. Rain check?”
I highly doubted he’d bring it up again.
[[Next|To Caliban’s]]“He was fairly pleasant,” I told Milo. “I fixed him tea and listened to his stories.”
“What kind of stories?” Milo’s eyes were shifting towards mine, his shoulder slowly hunching up towards his ears.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked in confusion. “Because Hazel needed a tonic delivered and we haven’t been able to find you. So–”
“Look, $name, if you have another delivery to him, let me handle it.”
I raised my brow. “Do you want to explain why?”
Milo stopped abruptly, nearly sending me toppling into the cobblestone wall. “Just don’t go near him,” he said. “He’s going to act like a kindly old man but he’s not. That man is the most manipulative son of a bitch the market has ever known. Stay away from him.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Swallowing, he closed his eyes, breathing through his nose. “Please,” he whispered. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”
I stepped up to him, wrapping my arms around him and feeling the fear inched across his skin. “Alright,” I reassured him, running my hand up and down his back. “I didn’t know.” The conversation was far from over, but it wasn’t worth having now. Not with Caliban on the horizon.<<elseif $miloro == "false">> There was an edge to his voice I hadn’t heard before. Whispers of the type of man Milo used to be followed him through the market. I had a feeling I was seeing a glimpse of it now.
“I’ll let you know if I have to do another one,” I told him. The conversation was far from over, but it wasn’t worth having given what was ahead of us. <</if>>
Nodding, Milo took great pains to calm himself down. “Sorry. I just– shit. Sorry. Tallard is just someone that has screwed me over before. I don’t want to see the same happen to you.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Letting the tension bleed from his shoulders, he shook his head. “Nah. We got to go catch a bird first. Rain check?”
I highly doubted he’d bring it up again.
[[Next|To Caliban’s]]“Couldn’t you make a construct to come with me? I know that you don’t like leaving the shop but couldn’t you do what you’ve done before?”
“I’m out,” she told me. “I can’t just create one on a whim. It takes a few days. And after the Deep I…” I could see the way she was shaking. The Deep had pushed her to her limits. She had returned from there, more determined to fortify her walls and keep the outside world from pressing in.
“If you give me a few days I could come up with one,” she tried. “I’ll get started on it now and we could go together?”
“I think it has to be today,” I told her. “I don’t think Odin is someone who is going to wait. And from the way it sounds, Caliban may be unstable. I don’t know. I need to talk to him and figure out what exactly is going on.”
Hazel shook her head. “I– Please don’t make me do this,” she asked, tears filling her eyes. “I’ll help in any other way but please. Not this. I don’t–” her eyes ticked towards the window. “I don’t want to leave.”
[[Hazel, I need you]]
[[Gabriel and I can handle this without her]]The apothecary was a welcomed sight after the bitter cold of the morning. The market itself seemed quieter as of late. As if the world was quietly readying itself for what was to come. There was a poetic kind of horror about it that continued to stick in the back of my mind. People had a way about them. They either reacted to change well and adjusted smoothly, or they kicked and screamed the entire way. But the market itself? There was no hiding its displeasure.
Frowning, I pulled my scarf and coat from me as I walked through the front doors. Milo was there, hugging Hazel. She looked genuinely happy at something he had said or did. It was nice to see after the recent spats that I knew they had been in.
“$name! Look!” She held up a basket of misshapen blobs. “Milo tried cooking.”
I raised a brow at the attempt. They were nowhere near Hazel’s fluffy, light, pieces of divine that she often pulled from the oven. In fact, these looked a bit more like rocks.
“Tried is the optimal word,” Milo said. “If anyone breaks a tooth don’t come crying to me about it. You have all been warned.” Walking up to me, he hesitated for a moment before reaching out, hooking his hands around my hips to pull me close.
"Muffins, huh?"
He pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. "Thought I'd do something nice." He glanced at said muffins. "Don't know what that nice things is yet but..." he trailed off with a grin, tucking his head close to mine.
"You didn't sleep last night," I stated. I could see it in his eyes. He just shrugged in way of answer.
"How did it go this morning?" Hazel asked. "Milo stopped by because he was worried."
I twisted to look at him. "So the muffins were your ruse?" I laughed. "You could have just asked."
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>"How was Odin?" His tone was much more subdued. Not that I blamed him. I doubted I'd feel all that comfortable if our situations were reversed.
Stepped away, I placed the feather down upon the counter. The little iron one that he had given me. Hazel glanced at it before turning back to me. “Yeah,” I said bitterly. “I let Caliban go and he gave it to me anyway.”
Hazel was staring at the favor in horror. “Why?”
“He said Caliban went right back to where they came from. It was his plan all along.”
“He played you?” she asked. I nodded my head, still feeling sick over the matter. I wanted to say that I should have seen it coming but I wasn’t sure how exactly I was supposed to do that when I was practically walking blind through the market. “Oh, $name. I am so sorry. That’s…”
“Typical of a Baron," Milo supplied. Though his hand on my shoulder was comforting.
"$name, that's horrible," Hazel sighed. "I'll be so happy when this Baron business is just done and over with."<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">> "The Gatekeeper showed up," I said. Milo's arms tensed around me while Hazel's eyes snapped to my own.
"What?" she said.
"We didn't see him but Gabriel aid there was no way that tear closed like it has on its own. It's still partially open but not like it was. It had to be the Gatekeepers doing."
"Then why wouldn't they have stepped forth. At the very least helped the guard?"
I shook my head. "Gabriel and I were trying to figure out the same thing. Maybe this Gatekeeper just doesn't care about us or what we're doing."
Hazel frowned. "Hopefully it's not that."
Sighing into my hair, Milo place a kiss on the crown of my head. "Truth is probably somewhere in the middle. Just glad that disaster yesterday didn't rip apart the entire damn market."
Hazel was noddng in agreement. "I think it'll be best with this entire Baron thing is just over and done with. Lately it feels like we are playing with fire."<</if>>
"Not going to be that easy," Milo muttered.
"We were just talking when you came in," Hazel said. "I think we're about to get with a whole slew of new problems so I've started looking into different ways to protect all of us. Right now we seem to be operating under the nose of everyone else but I have a feeling if we become known for meddling, things could become different.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “I’ve just seen how the market’s been before. You’ll be given part of the Baron's powers. And while you are using it for a very specific reason, people could twist this into you vying for a tenth Baron position.”
“You think a target is going to be painted on my back?”
"No," Milo said firmly. He looked a little surprised at his own conviction. "Though, I think Hazel is doing the right thing."
[[We will take this as we go|Milo We will take this as we go]]
[[The more protection the better|Milo The more protection the better]]
[[At least we have powerful people in our corner too|Milo At least we have powerful]]“He left quick,” I said, watching as he went.
“He’s not sleeping well,” she told me. “He said he was up most of last night.” Poking at one of the muffins, Hazel was eyeing them with a sense of fondness. A cherished memory playing across her face. “How did the morning with Gabriel go?” she asked.
“The Gatekeeper showed up.”
Her head snapped up, eyes wide as they met my own. “What?”
“We didn’t see them, but Gabriel said that the worst of the tear was closed. Meaning the Gatekeeper had to have been involved. Which also leads me to believe they know what we’re doing and they might just not want to be a part of it.”
Hazel slumped against the counter. “That’s not good news.”
“No.” I wanted to give the Gatekeeper the benefit of the doubt. I wanted to say that this was all one big misunderstanding. But the more time that passed, the more I was beginning to suspect that whoever the Gatekeeper was, they just didn’t want anything to do with us.
“We’ll just need to be careful. There is no telling what people will do once they know you have been collecting the Baron’s favors.”
“You really think it will get out?”
“I know it will,” she said. “Things like that never stay secret for long.”
[[We will take this as we go]]
[[The more protection the better]]
[[At least we have powerful people in our corner too]]“We will just take everything as we go,” I told her. New problems were arising at a near constant rate. There were certainly precautions we could take but I found myself almost not wishing to enter into such a headache. Not with the actual headache throbbing at my temples and the feeling of exhaustion that I hadn’t been able to shake. “Let’s just get the Baron's favors and go from there. Maybe when it's all said and done things won’t feel so dire anymore.”
Hazel sighed a little. “I hope you’re right.”
“It’s not like you to be pessimistic,” I pointed out.
The freckles on her face stood out the more tired she got. It was clear that I was not the only one in need of a week's worth of sleep. “I think I’ll close the shop for the day,” she said softly. “It was busy this morning and I could use with a break.” Straightening, she looked at me with concern. “Why don’t you head up to bed for the afternoon? You’re looking pale.”
"You feel a little warm," Milo said, concern in his eyes.
“I think I’m catching a cold,” I told her. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Despite me not having done anything in the apothecary for what felt like a lifetime, I was still Hazel’s employee.<</if>> “Let me help you get cleaned up and then I’ll go take a nap.”
But, unsurprisingly, Hazel shooed me away. “No. Bed. Now,” she demanded. “I’m too short to carry you up the stairs by myself if you pass out.”
“I’ve seen you lift Milo,” I pointed out. Granted, it had been during a game night and her and Milo had been drinking and he may have jumped to help her given their height difference. Shaking my head, I rubbed at my eyes. “You know what? Yeah. Sleep. I’ll take you up on that.” I could feel the back of my throat scratch with a tickle. Now was not the time to get sick. “I’ll come find you when I get up and maybe I can make dinner tonight?”
It was doubtful Hazel would let me but she nodded all the same. “I won’t be long,” she said. “Maybe a few days of rest is what we all need.” She was looking pointedly at Milo. He only waved her off as she continued to get the shop in order.
"Want to come up and take a nap?" I asked him.
"I want to come up and do so much more," he grinned. "But, I would fall asleep on top of you and that's not sexy for anyone."
I snorted. "Come on then. Just come lay down with me for a bit."
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, running his hand up and down my spine.
Trudging up the stairs, we made it to my room. Whatever it was that I was feeling was coming on hard and fast. Kicking off my shoes I crawled back under the covers that I had abandoned only a few hours ago and curled up on my side. Milo curled next to me, pulling me in tight. I shivered with an oncoming chill but thankfully fell asleep soon after my head hit the pillow. Tucking himself around me, Milo soon followed.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo]]“The more protection we put in place the better,” I told her. And not just for me, but for all of us. Gabriel was overworked, Belladonna was already high profile, Hazel was far too sweet and Milo wandered the darker parts of the streets. All it would take for any one of us to be taken advantage of would be one wrong move. Call it paranoia but I was not willing to put their lives on the line, nor mine, when there was a real possibility that we could do something to ensure our safety. At least somewhat.
“I’ll get going on a few simple things,” Hazel assured. “Then, when we have a little more free time, maybe I can work on a bigger protective sigil.” She yawned as she was speaking though and I couldn’t help but notice that Hazel probably needed a well deserved day off too.
“Why don’t you take the day?” I asked. “Close up shop.” Hazel didn’t need the money, I had learned. She merely abhorred the thought of someone in need that she would have to turn away.
“Maybe,” she conceded. It was a testament to how run down she was starting to get. “What about you? You don’t look as if you feel very good.”
"You feel a little warm," Milo said, concern in his eyes.
“I think I’m catching a cold,” I told her. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Despite me not having done anything in the apothecary for what felt like a lifetime, I was still Hazel’s employee.<</if>> “Let me help you get cleaned up and then I’ll go take a nap.”
But, unsurprisingly, Hazel shooed me away. “No. Bed. Now,” she demanded. “I’m too short to carry you up the stairs by myself if you pass out.”
“I’ve seen you lift Milo,” I pointed out. Granted, it had been during a game night and her and Milo had been drinking and he may have jumped to help her given their height difference. Shaking my head, I rubbed at my eyes. “You know what? Yeah. Sleep. I’ll take you up on that.” I could feel the back of my throat scratch with a tickle. Now was not the time to get sick. “I’ll come find you when I get up and maybe I can make dinner tonight?”
It was doubtful Hazel would let me but she nodded all the same. “I won’t be long,” she said. “Maybe a few days of rest is what we all need.” She was looking pointedly at Milo. He only waved her off as she continued to get the shop in order.
"Want to come up and take a nap?" I asked him.
"I want to come up and do so much more," he grinned. "But, I would fall asleep on top of you and that's not sexy for anyone."
I snorted. "Come on then. Just come lay down with me for a bit."
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, running his hand up and down my spine.
Trudging up the stairs, we made it to my room. Whatever it was that I was feeling was coming on hard and fast. Kicking off my shoes I crawled back under the covers that I had abandoned only a few hours ago and curled up on my side. Milo curled next to me, pulling me in tight. I shivered with an oncoming chill but thankfully fell asleep soon after my head hit the pillow. Tucking himself around me, Milo soon followed.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo]]“At least we have powerful people in our corner,” I told her. They may not have been Barons but they were people who had influence within the market. I doubted there were many who would cross either Belladonna or Gabriel. Even Milo, for all his squirrelly ways, was a force in his own right. I wasn’t even going to comment on what Hazel could do. “We’ll be okay,” I assured her.
She didn’t look certain but at the same time, after the last few meetings with the Barons, I didn’t know how I was. Pressing my fingers to my temples, I tried not to think about what all had happened and instead just focused on carving out some more time to sleep.
“I think I’ll close the shop for the day,” Hazel said softly. I could tell by her voice she was just as tired. “It was busy this morning and I could use with a break.” Straightening, she looked at me with concern. “Why don’t you head up to bed for the afternoon? You’re looking pale.”
"You feel a little warm," Milo said, concern in his eyes.
“I think I’m catching a cold,” I told her. <<if $workforhazel == "true">>Despite me not having done anything in the apothecary for what felt like a lifetime, I was still Hazel’s employee.<</if>> “Let me help you get cleaned up and then I’ll go take a nap.”
But, unsurprisingly, Hazel shooed me away. “No. Bed. Now,” she demanded. “I’m too short to carry you up the stairs by myself if you pass out.”
“I’ve seen you lift Milo,” I pointed out. Granted, it had been during a game night and her and Milo had been drinking and he may have jumped to help her given their height difference. Shaking my head, I rubbed at my eyes. “You know what? Yeah. Sleep. I’ll take you up on that.” I could feel the back of my throat scratch with a tickle. Now was not the time to get sick. “I’ll come find you when I get up and maybe I can make dinner tonight?”
It was doubtful Hazel would let me but she nodded all the same. “I won’t be long,” she said. “Maybe a few days of rest is what we all need.” She was looking pointedly at Milo. He only waved her off as she continued to get the shop in order.
"Want to come up and take a nap?" I asked him.
"I want to come up and do so much more," he grinned. "But, I would fall asleep on top of you and that's not sexy for anyone."
I snorted. "Come on then. Just come lay down with me for a bit."
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, running his hand up and down my spine.
Trudging up the stairs, we made it to my room. Whatever it was that I was feeling was coming on hard and fast. Kicking off my shoes I crawled back under the covers that I had abandoned only a few hours ago and curled up on my side. Milo curled next to me, pulling me in tight. I shivered with an oncoming chill but thankfully fell asleep soon after my head hit the pillow. Tucking himself around me, Milo soon followed.
[[Next|Chapter Ten Milo]]I stepped between them, Belladonna to my back and Kavatti to my front. “No,” I said. “This is not happening. If the only reason you want to give us your favor is to someone get Belladonna under your control, it is not worth it.” <<if $freecaliban == "false">> I had already lost one friend. I was not about to lose another.<</if>>
Kavatti laughed, her smile stretching across her youthful face. “Oh, cute. Martyrdom is my favorite taste.”
“None of that now,” Belladonna said, suddenly so much closer. An arm wrapped around me from behind, her hand sneaking upwards to splay across my chest. “Kavatti, this one is mine.” Blood-red nails sunk into me, keeping me firmly in place.
“Have you drank from them?” Kavatti asked.
“You know as well as I do that I don’t do that anymore.”
“Then you cannot claim ?them as yours, darling.”
Belladonna’s laugh was rich and a shiver against my ear. “I can,” she said simply. “But I am not here to discuss the finite details about $name here. I am simply informing you, Kavatti, this one is //mine//.”
Kavatti stared over my shoulder, presumably locking eyes with Belladonna. I didn’t dare move. I was sure that Belladonna could feel the thud of my heart against her palm and the rush of my blood.
“Fine,” she said simply. “Prove it.”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”
“It is a condition of my favor,” Kavatti said airly. “Rules have now changed. If you wish to have something from me, and you are not offering this one in return, then prove they are yours.”
I looked over my shoulder, catching Belladonna’s eye.
[[It’s okay. Do it]]
[[I don’t want this]]
“I mean nothing to you?” It felt like a claw down by back, splitting my skin wide open and bleeding me dry. Belladonna stared at me coldly, her posture almost bored.
“Why would you mean anything to me, dear heart? You’ve only been here for a few months. Given what I do for a living, do you honestly think I would care?”
<<if $belladonnasex == "true">> “So the other night at the spa, that was nothing?”
She rolled her eyes. “Courtesan, remember? The other night at the spa was muscle memory and an opportunity to go over my schedule in my head while I listened to you moan.”<</if>>
I shook my head, stumbling away. She was lying. She had to be lying. The problem with someone like Belladonna, however, is that they made a living off of lies. They wouldn’t survive if they did not.
“I don’t believe you,” I said, though my voice was shot through with emotion. “The rose. The moments we’ve shared.”
“It is my job, $name. Nothing more.”
Kavatii made a small noise off to the side. The sound of satisfaction. “Oh, Bella,” she crooned. “You really do need to be more careful with young hearts. They are the easiest to break, after all.”
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she looked at Kavatti, completely ignoring me now. “Are we done with this? I would really like to get on with tonight. It isn’t my fault they are naive and can’t understand the difference between love you pay for and love you find.”
I had never paid. Not once had I spent a penny on Belladonna. Dropping my head, I swallowed thickly.
[[Stay silent. She was up to something]]
[[Believe what she says and make a scene]]
[[Don’t believe what she says and still make a scene]]
Stepping forward, I felt the hard slap of my shoes against the stone cathedral floor. They boomed in the chamber, weighing down the decision I knew I did not fully understand as of yet.
“No. I’ll do it.”
Kavatti and Belladonna looked at me, but their expressions couldn’t have been any more different. Kavatti looked delighted. Eager. Licking her lips at the possibilities ahead. Meanwhile, the first crack in Belladonna’s mask appeared.
“Oh, interesting,” Kavatti murmured. “You wish to be my right hand?” Stepping forward, she began to circle me. “Tell me, do you think you could do the job better than Bella? Do you think you could best the eyes and ears of the market.”
The quick answer was no. Of course I couldn’t. I didn’t even know what all Belladonna did. But I was not going to stand by and let her walk back into the place she had fought so hard to leave.
“I’ll learn. And you know you’ll have far more loyalty from me. You betrayed her. You think she is going to let that go?”
Kavatti laughed. The sound was like a discordant bell, rising up towards the rafters and shattering the silence above. “How very quick this one has sold you out, dear. I love it.”
Belladonna’s look was murderous. “What do you think you are doing?” she asked me.
“Not letting you throw your life away.”
Her eyes were crimson. The only time I had seen them as such was when she was hungry or filled with rage. It could have been either at the moment. “How dare you,” she hissed. “You presume to know me? You presume to know anything about me? You have been nothing but a nuisance since you have arrived at this market and now you dare throw in my face that I am throwing my life away. And for what? You?” she laughed cruelly. “I could care less about you, dear heart. I do care about my life, however. The lives of the people who I actually love. And so I am ‘throwing my life away’ for the market. Not for you.”
<<if $belladonnaro == "true">> My chest felt heavy. A weight falling upon me at her words. The venom she spewed.<</if>> In the short time I had come to know Belladonna, I had never heard her speak as such. The deepening of her voice, the way she prowled towards me. This was the woman who was a danger to others. Who didn’t allow for second chances.
“Well, I love this,” Kavatti said. “But I do have a schedule to keep. Bella, if you want to join me, kill them. $name, same goes for you. I don’t care how you do it. I just want to watch.”
We stood across from each other, shoulders squared off. Whether Kavatti had given her permission or not, Belladonna looked positively murderous.
[[I’m not going to try and kill Belladonna]]
[[Wait to see what Belladonna does]]
[[Look at Belladonna “I don’t want to fight you”]]
“It’s okay,” I told her. “Just do it.” If it got Belladonna out from under whatever hold this woman had on her, then I was willing to help. I trusted Belladonna to keep me safe. To, no matter what was about to happen, not leave me to the proverbial wolves.
“Oh, dear heart,” she sighed. Gently, her hand came up as she pulled my head off to one side. Leaning forward, she ran her nose down the line of my neck, pausing at the thrum of my pulse. I felt her fangs extend, grazing the thin flesh. Ticking my eyes to Kavatti, I felt a small sense of revulsion. The woman was leering at us, her breathing labored as she watched her old friend play.
“You smell intoxicating,” Belladonna breathed into my ear. “And I so very much wish you would have listening to me.”
“What?” I asked, confused. My vision felt hazy, the room around me suddenly feeling far too hot as the world began tipping to the side. Belladonna lips closed around me, a seal across my neck. I gasped, feeling her tongue lick the salt of my skin, my eyes fluttering closed. Her grip on me tightened, her arm a firm band across my chest as I waited for the puncture of fangs.
But nothing came.
Instead, I felt her tongue rip across her teeth, the gush of blood filling her mouth. She began sucking, pulling my skin in a rhythmic pulse and pushing the blood against me until it began dribbling from the corner of her mouth, sliding down my neck to stain the collar of my shirt.
Across the way, Kavatti moaned in delight while Belladonna grip became harsh. She jerked my body back against her, making a feral sound in the back of her throat as she pulled my head further to the side, the sucking pull of her mouth pleasantly painful.
“Yes,” Kavatti whispered.
My back was suddenly to the cathedral wall, Belladonna standing in front of me, a bare thigh shoved between my legs. She pulled away, her eyes locking with mine. They were blood-red and she was panting harshly, the swell of her breast pressed firmly to my front. I didn’t see the hand that came up to brush across the bruise that was rising on my neck, but I did feel the swipe of her nails as they bit across my skin.
“Stay here,” she told me. “Don’t make me use magic on you.”
Numbly, I nodded my head. At this point, I thought I would maybe do anything she said.
Turning to Kavatti, Belladonna licked her lips. “Satisfied?”
“Are you?” Kavatti laughed.
"Still a bit peckish," Belladonna said. "Though, I'll remedy that soon."
[[Next|Chapter Ten alt 1]]“I don’t want this,” I told her. While I was uncertain of whatever was to come, I could feel the fear rising, pumping the blood through my body and making both vampires look at me like I was their next little snack.
“I know,” Belladonna said, stroking a line up and down my chest, her nails a gentle scratch against the fabric of my top. “However, you have given me no choice.”
Across the way, Kavatti clapped. “There’s the Bella I know. Do it. I love to watch them squirm in your arms.”
I tried to pull away, but Belladonna held me tight. I saw the moment her fangs extended and she leaned down to run her nose across my pulse. “Trust me,” she murmured.
I felt myself relax. Behind me, Bella’s body was tense. It was not the curve of a woman about to take what she wanted, but one balancing on a knifes edge. Furthermore, I could hear the please in her voice. Trust. She needed trust. I hadn’t given it to her when we first walked in. I needed to do it now.
Belladonna lips closed around me, a seal across my neck. I gasped, feeling her tongue lick the salt of my skin, my eyes fluttering closed. Her grip on me tightened, her arm a firm band across my chest as I waited for the puncture of fangs.
But nothing came.
Instead, I felt her tongue rip across her teeth, the gush of blood filling her mouth. She began sucking, pulling my skin in a rhythmic pulse and pushing the blood against me until it began dribbling from the corner of her mouth, sliding down my neck to stain the collar of my shirt.
Across the way, Kavatti moaned in delight while Belladonna grip became harsh. She jerked my body back against her, making a feral sound in the back of her throat as she pulled my head further to the side, the sucking pull of her mouth pleasantly painful.
“Yes,” Kavatti whispered.
My back was suddenly to the cathedral wall, Belladonna standing in front of me, a bare thigh shoved between my legs. She pulled away, her eyes locking with mine. They were blood-red and she was panting harshly, the swell of her breast pressed firmly to my front. I didn’t see the hand that came up to brush across the bruise that was rising on my neck, but I did feel the swipe of her nails as they bit across my skin.
“Stay here,” she told me. “Don’t make me use magic on you.”
Numbly, I nodded my head. At this point, I thought I would maybe do anything she said.
Turning to Kavatti, Belladonna licked her lips. “Satisfied?”
“Are you?” Kavatti laughed.
"Still a bit peckish," Belladonna said. "Though, I'll remedy that soon."
[[Next|Chapter Ten alt 1]]I held my tongue. Belladonna was up to something. I had not once paid her for her services. The very ones she claimed was all part of the job. But Kavatti didn’t know that. In front of this woman, I looked nothing more than someone with a shattered heart after learning that my feelings were not returned.
Taking a step back, I stayed silent, letting Belladonna run this show.
“I hear that has changed,” Kavatti continued. I kept myself as still as possible. Belladonna had worked hard to get to her position in the market. She was a self-made woman. There was no way, even for the Baron’s favor, that she would go right back into the arms of someone like this. There had to be something more. Something I had perhaps missed. The faith I was putting within her at this moment in time was nearly incalculable.
The goblet was between them. A peace offering. For a moment, I was certain Belladonna was not going to take it as she just stared at it. To an outsider, I wasn’t sure they would realize her anger, but I could see it. I could see it in the way she held herself. In the slight way she had her head tilted. But she reached out and curled her fingers around the goblet all the same, brushing against Kavatti’s. Tipping her glass up in salute, Belladonna took a sip of the steaming blood, licking her lips after.
Kavatti gazed at her eagerly, holding the breath she did not need, her body vibrating with anticipation. Something was supposed to happen and it was doubtful that it was to be Belladonna taking another deep pull of her drink.
“I am so proud of the woman you became, Bella,” Kavatti said. I could almost believe the sincerity.
Belladonna set the glass aside, plucking up a napkin and dabbing at her lips. “You have what you want now, Kavatti. I have drank your blood once more. I am home. The favor please.”
“Of course.” Though now, Kavatti seemed nervous. As if she expected more fanfare for such a moment.
Her signet ring was rust-colored and embedded with a small needle. Pressing the tip of the needle into her thumb, I watched as a bead of blood bubbled from her skin. It popped wetly, revealing a small ruby. With barely a glance, she handed it to me. “Here you are,” she said. “Do with it what you will but I can almost guarantee you that whoever this new Gatekeeper is, isn’t worth the fuss. It is clear they don’t know what they are doing.” She was pouting. It struck me suddenly that however she had imagined Belladonna returning to her to be, it was not this. Barely a fight and no resilience to her blood whatsoever. The woman looked positively angered by the ordeal, despite getting exactly what she wanted.
As she began walking away, Belladonna stepped forward. “Kavatti, a moment before I send $name away.” Pulling from her pocket a velvet lined box, she held it out to the woman. When she opened it, she revealed a lace spider silk choker with rubies dripping down one side.
“It’s beautiful,” Kavatti said, intrigued once more. “And I will not be touching it.”
“Oh don’t be silly, Kavatti,” Belladonna said with a roll of her eyes. “I have drank your blood. I am in your domain. What do you think this choker is going to do?”
“It was another of your fun tricks. You used to give those to others to choke the life out of them.”
The things I was learning about Belladonna tonight…
“Yes, Kavatti. I crushed their windpipe. I stole their breath. You have none. I am merely giving this to you as a gesture. You used to love these. You always said you liked the way they made others scream.”
Kavatti looked torn. “I did,” she said slowly.
[[Next|Chapter Ten alt 1]]“I mean nothing to you?” I asked incredulously. “After everything, I mean nothing?”
“What did I tell you, dear heart,” Belladonna said coolly. “Do not fall in love with me. I will not be returning the favor. I feel I have been nothing but honest about that.”
She had. She had warned me, but I had naively thought that this was some sort of game. That she didn’t return my feelings because something was standing in the way. Up until this moment, I had though that this, Kavatti, was what was running her heart. That Belladonna was so blinded by vengeance, wrapped up in the moments from the past, that she couldn’t love me until everything was resolved. A confrontation would have to take place first.
But now I could see that she had simply been stringing me along. That I mean nothing to her.
“Do you even care?” I asked. “Is this all part of the persona? You go out with whoever offers you a smile and you fuck with their heart?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “That is absolutely what I do. What part of courtesan do you not understand?”
I shook my head in disbelief. “No. You don’t get to blame your job on this. This one is all you. Some special brand of cruelty to keep yourself in a position of power because you cannot stand the thought of being vulnerable with anyone. The very idea of loving someone is a weakness to you so you make sure to break everyone else's heart before your own gets broken.”
She tipped her head to the side, contemplating my words. “Do you need to tell yourself that in order to move on from this moment? Do whatever you must, dear heart. It does not matter to me.”
Turning her back to me, she sighed. “I’m sorry for the dramatics, darling,” she said, addressing Kavatti. I had been dismissed. The only reason Belladonna even brought me here was for the damn favor.
“Oh, Bella,” Kavatti pouted. “You are so cruel.” Though there was amusement in the woman's voice. “Do you mind if I play when we are done here? Give them something else to love. It has been so very long since I’ve found a good toy.”
“Whatever you want,” she said blasé. “Now, the ritual please. I would like to get this favor done with. I do have a client in about an hour.”
I felt broken. My emotions shattered at my feet. My pride wounded.
How had I been so stupid?
[[Next|Chapter Ten alt 1]]I didn’t believe her for a second. There was something she was planning. Belladonna had contingency plan after contingency plan. She was a woman who looked at every angle before she entered a room. Not for a second did I believe her.
But that did not mean I wouldn’t support her in this endeavor. Sell whatever it was she was trying to make Kavatti believe.
“I mean nothing to you?” I asked, pitching my voice into something incredulous. “After everything, I mean nothing?”
“What did I tell you, dear heart,” Belladonna said coolly. “Do not fall in love with me. I will not be returning the favor. I feel I have been nothing but honest about that.”
She had. She had warned me, but I had naively thought that this was some sort of game. That she didn’t return my feelings because something was standing in the way. Belladonna had claimed she left her heart in a burning world. I believed it was much more likely, Belladonna was guarding her heart until she could give it freely.
“Do you even care?” I asked. “Is this all part of the persona? You go out with whoever offers you a smile and you fuck with their heart?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “That is absolutely what I do. What part of courtesan do you not understand?”
“You can’t do something like that. You cannot fuck someone had then leave them out in the cold. I trusted you. I gave you my heart.” I even managed to muster a glassy eyed expression as I looked at her.
She tipped her head to the side, contemplating my words. “May I suggest you have a more discerning heart in the future? Falling so easily is just negligent. Although, I think it proves your maturity, more than anything else.”
Turning her back to me, she sighed. “I’m sorry for the dramatics, darling,” she said, addressing Kavatti. I had been dismissed. The only reason Belladonna even brought me here was for the damn favor.
“Oh, Bella,” Kavatti pouted. “You are so cruel.” Though there was amusement in the woman's voice. “Do you mind if I play when we are done here? Give them something else to love. It has been so very long since I’ve found a good toy.”
“Whatever you want,” she said blasé. “Now, the ritual please. I would like to get this favor done with. I do have a client in about an hour.”
[[Next|Chapter Ten alt 1]]I was not going to try and kill Belladonna. There wasn’t a single part of me that desired such an action. Nor did I think if a fight ever did happen between her and I, that I had any hope of winning. Looking at Belladonna, I sighed a little, growing tired of the theatrics. We just needed to get the name and get out of here.
“A fight between us would be uneventful,” Belladonna said drolly. “Kavatti, I do know how you love the theatrics, but this is a little pathetic. Surely you know that it is just going to be a quick killing. No hunt. And besides, I do technically need them. The Gatekeeper, if you’ve forgotten.”
The pout that crossed Kavatti’s lip was deep, the flush on her cheeks becoming bright as she looked far more youthful than before. “Boo,” she said but when Belladonna did not move on the subject, she sighed heavily. “Fine. I concede. I suppose it is not a rational course of action. I forget how much of a spoilsport you can sometimes be.” Looking at me, she gave me a soft smile. As if she had not just tried to orchestrate my death. “Belladonna was never one for whimsy. Chaos is a pet peeve of her. Can you imagine, being someone as powerful as her, and not being spontaneous.”
“Aw, but you forget,” Belladonna said. “That is how I became so dangerous. Now, can we move this along? I do have a client in an hour, unfortunately. A horrid little man with hair behind his ears.”
Kavatti tutted. “You really need to just go strictly to women, Bella. They are so much cleaner.”
As Belladonna walked past me, her hand brushed my own. A small askance to just stay out of this.
[[Next|Chapter Ten alt 1]]I kept silence, waiting to see what Belladonna did next. Kavatti struck me as a woman who cared very little of consequences and enjoyed the value of entertainment far more.
“A fight between us would be uneventful,” she said drolly. “Kavatti, I do know how you love the theatrics, but this is a little pathetic. Surely you know that it is just going to be a quick killing. No hunt. And besides, I do technically need them. The Gatekeeper, if you’ve forgotten.”
The pout that crossed Kavatti’s lip was deep, the flush on her cheeks becoming bright as she looked far more youthful than before. “Boo,” she said but when Belladonna did not move on the subject, she sighed heavily. “Fine. I concede. I suppose it is not a rational course of action. I forget how much of a spoilsport you can sometimes be.” Looking at me, she gave me a soft smile. As if she had not just tried to orchestrate my death. “Belladonna was never one for whimsy. Chaos is a pet peeve of her. Can you imagine, being someone as powerful as her, and not being spontaneous.”
“Aw, but you forget,” Belladonna said. “That is how I became so dangerous. Now, can we move this along? I do have a client in an hour, unfortunately. A horrid little man with hair behind his ears.”
Kavatti tutted. “You really need to just go strictly to women, Bella. They are so much cleaner.”
As Belladonna walked past me, her hand brushed my own. A small askance to just stay out of this.
[[Next|Chapter Ten alt 1]]“I don’t want to fight you,” I told Belladonna seriously. There was no way that I could. Even if for some bizarre reason, I wanted to, I wouldn’t even take a step before she would have me pinned. Yet, Kavatti looked far too eager and I didn’t know how we were going to get out of this.
“A fight between us would be uneventful,” she said drolly. “Kavatti, I do know how you love the theatrics, but this is a little pathetic. Surely you know that it is just going to be a quick killing. No hunt. And besides, I do technically need them. The Gatekeeper, if you’ve forgotten.”
The pout that crossed Kavatti’s lip was deep, the flush on her cheeks becoming bright as she looked far more youthful than before. “Boo,” she said but when Belladonna did not move on the subject, she sighed heavily. “Fine. I concede. I suppose it is not a rational course of action. I forget how much of a spoilsport you can sometimes be.” Looking at me, she gave me a soft smile. As if she had not just tried to orchestrate my death. “Belladonna was never one for whimsy. Chaos is a pet peeve of her. Can you imagine, being someone as powerful as her, and not being spontaneous.”
“Aw, but you forget,” Belladonna said. “That is how I became so dangerous. Now, can we move this along? I do have a client in an hour, unfortunately. A horrid little man with hair behind his ears.”
Kavatti tutted. “You really need to just go strictly to women, Bella. They are so much cleaner.”
As Belladonna walked past me, her hand brushed my own. A small askance to just stay out of this.
[[Next|Chapter Ten alt 1]]"Well, with that kind of display, how could I refuse you my favor now?" Kavatti looked disapointed that whatever show she had been enjoying was coming to an end, however.
"I would appreciate that, Kavatti. And may we have many more moments together in the future."
Her signet ring was rust-colored and embedded with a small needle. Pressing the tip of the needle into her thumb, I watched as a bead of blood bubbled from her skin. It popped wetly, revealing a small ruby. With barely a glance, she handed it to me. “Here you are,” she said. “Do with it what you will but I can almost guarantee you that whoever this new Gatekeeper is, isn’t worth the fuss. It is clear they don’t know what they are doing.”
"Thank you," Belladonna intoned. "And, as a peace offering between us, I would like to present you with a gift. Something to let bygones be bygones." Pulling from her pocket a velvet lined box, Belladonna held it out to the woman. When she opened it, she revealed a lace spider silk choker with rubies dripping down one side.
“It’s beautiful,” Kavatti said, intrigued once more. “And I will not be touching it.”
“Oh don’t be silly, Kavatti,” Belladonna said with a roll of her eyes. "What do you think this choker is going to do?”
“It was another of your fun tricks. You used to give those to others to choke the life out of them.”
The things I was learning about Belladonna tonight…
“Yes, Kavatti. I crushed their windpipe. I stole their breath. You have none. I am merely giving this to you as a gesture. You used to love these. You always said you liked the way they made others scream.”
Kavatti looked torn. “I did,” she said slowly.
[[Next|Chapter Ten 2]]
Light burst through the room, a pulse of magic lashing against my body and sending me for cover beneath the nearest table. Looking down at my arms, I saw my skin splitting open, as if cut with the beat of wings, before healing all over again. I felt the pain as small, paper thin cuts enveloped my body. Somewhere, Belladonna was continuing to scream, and the world was beginning to grow dark.
The sound of footfalls skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs. I could still hear the screams from below, a fight having broken loose but not seeming to come to our side just yet. Turning, I saw Gabriel. He was poised, blood spattering his coat and sword glowing bright white.<<if $gabrielro == "true">> Eyes landing on mine, he rushed forward, kneeling by my side. “$name, what happened?” he barked, hands running over me to look for wounds. Despite the cuts closing as soon as they came, his hands still came away bloody.
“She killed Kavatti,” I said through a gasp. “Belladonna killed Kavatti.”
Eye flicking around fretfully, Gabriel searched for the vampire. She was floating in the middle of the cathedral now, arms outstretched in supplication, head tipped back as if praying to the Knowing somewhere high above.
“Stay here,” he ordered. Standing, he cautiously approached her, catching her right as she fell.
Arms wrapped around her, her face contorted in pain, a muffled cry leaving her lips as she doubled over.<<elseif $gabrielro== "false">> Eye flicking around fretfully, Gabriel searched for the vampire. She was floating in the middle of the cathedral now, arms outstretched in supplication, head tipped back as if praying to the Knowing somewhere high above. He rushed to her, looking up just as she fell.
Arms wrapped around her, her face contorted in pain, a muffled cry leaving her lips as she doubled over.<</if>>
“What did you do?” he asked,
She lifted her eyes to him and for a minute, I didn’t think she recognized him. Her bloody hand came up and cupped his cheek before falling away, whatever she had been seeing before gone just as quickly as it came. “She took everything from us,” Belladonna said through gritted teeth. “She deserved this.”
Gabriel stared at her but unlike all the times I had seen him look at her before, this one was filled with so much more pain and sorrow than I thought the two of them capable of, when speaking about each other.
“She deserved this, Gabriel,” Belladonna said, eyes filling with tears.
He pulled her into a hug, cradling her body close to his. Not once did I ever believe Belladonna could look so small. “It’s over now, Bells. It’s finally over.”
I watched the two of them. Watched as Belladonna slumped against his chest, weak and boneless. Gabriel held her without question as the screams began to quiet below. Two people who I couldn’t remember speaking to each other in any sense of kindness somehow coming together.
When Belladonna pulled away, it was with a startled gasp as she wiped at her eyes before looking at me. “$name, I–”
But she didn’t get any further.
I could remember seeing her eyes go almost comically wide. I could remember Gabriel as he rushed towards me as if in slow motion. All around me, the world was spinning. I felt myself hit the floor with a smack, but knew nothing more.
[[Next|Chapter Ten 3]]
“It’ll be alright.”
My eyes snapped open, pupils contracting with the shifting colors around me. Amber and gold flecks filtering through the air like glitter, sticking to my skin and clothes.
A woman stood before me. Her hair was pulled back from her face, her $skincolor skin dotted with the deep umber flecks that were floating in the sky like stars. I knew her. My heart was pulled her way as if she were a part of me.
“Grandma?”
The smile she gave me in return was warm and felt like the comforter as old. “Is that what you are calling me?” Walking up to me, she cupped my cheeks within her weathered palms. I sucked in a shuttered breath, unsure if this woman was the one from my memories, or if what I was seeing was actually true. “Oh, look at you,” the woman breathed.
Above us, the lanterns began to pulse, the one that I had been holding drifting upwards to go home.
“Am I dreaming?” I asked.
“I suspect so. But it does not make your experience untrue.”
“I don’t even know what this experience is,” I told her truthfully. I hadn’t felt good. The feeling itself was muzzy but I remembered the fever burning my body. But here, the woman's hands were cool.
“I know,” she whispered sadly. “I wish I could protect you. But my time is done with that.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? You can protect me. Couldn’t you come home with me?”
“I am home,” she stated simply.
Half-truths and blanks that were not my own began stacking up around me, piercing my temple and causing me to cry out in pain. The woman hushed me, blowing lightly across my face. It soothed the worst of the ache, my body slumping against her until she was the only thing supporting me.
“Are you a spirit?” I murmured.
“For a long time. Though, as I’m sure you know by now, that does not mean what it means for everyone else.”
“Oh,” I said numbly. Should I have known that? What did everyone else know that I did not?
//Secrets//
The lanterns whispered.
“Oh hush,” the woman scolded. I heard a few soft giggles as they flitted away, just like Hazel’s wisps. “Now, I know you are tired, and I know you are sick, but this will all be done soon. It’s time to go back now, $name. You are not done with your job. Not time to rest just yet.”
Looking up into the soft wrinkles of her eyes, I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“You will,” she whispered. “Now, close your eyes. And when you eventually meet the Gatekeeper, tell them hi.”
The amber lights swooped down, curling around me in soft warmth. Slowly and securely, I drifted away.
[[Next|Chapter Ten 1]]
“Do you remember where you’re from?” I asked him.
His fingers curled in the dirt, legs coming up a bit, one foot resting on the ledge. A singular shift forward and the chasm below would swallow us whole. I was a bit more reserved than him in how close to the edge I got. But then again, that was Milo. Dancing close to the abyss with a smile on his face.
“Not a lot,” he said. “I remember odd impressions and given that I was so young, I don’t know how much of them are true. Like, I remember apples for some reason. The smell of crisp, warm apples. Not baked. One from a tree or some sort of orchard.” His gaze was far off as he thought of them, breathing deeply in hopes of capturing the smell again. “It’s a good memory. I like that one. Sometimes I like to think it’s a memory of my mom.”
“You don’t remember her?”
He shook his head. Hand coming up, he grabbed a small gold chain that hung around his neck. “I am told this was hers,” he said. “I think it used to have a pendent to it but I lost it before I even came here. Only thing I regret leaving behind.”
We lapsed into silence, staring out into the nothingness where little curls of light flickered to life occasionally. I wanted to believe that there were others out there, looking back at us.
“Would you have wanted to live down here?” I asked, trying to imagine how the city had once looked. Milo dancing through its streets.
“I dunno. I like seeing the night sky. As fake as it might be.” His head was tilted upwards, as if he were trying to peer into the sky above. “But, the idea of starting new? Of getting a second chance? Now, that’s a tempting one.”
[[You can talk to me, you know]]
[[Speaking as someone who started over, I don’t know how much I recommend it]]
[[Is there some other way to start over? Maybe with someone (start a relationship with Milo)]]“What if we are still underground?” I mused.
“Darlin’, look up. We are underground.”
“No,” I said, smacking his thigh. “Up there. What if we are still underground? Couldn’t there be a possibility that we never made it up.”
He looked upwards, as if to look past the arched ceiling above, past the cool layer of earthy dust that was settled around us, and to the lanterns that had lit the streets. “Huh,” he said softly. “I never really thought about it like that. You really think that could be a thing?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “But other than when I first walked out of the cave at the prison, I have not seen the night sky since.”
“No, the sky over the ocean is for sure real,” he said. “There’s a gate out there from what I know. Rumor has it the Warden came through that one.”
“The Warden’s not from here either?”
“Nope,” he said with a pop of his lips. “I don’t think most people are actually from the market. Some have lived here so long that they just claim they were born here, but when this world started, it was supposed to have just been the ancients. And unless they had some really intense orgies, I don’t know how they could be responsible for populating the realm this much.”
“The world could just be that old,” I pointed out.
“Nah. Only possible explanations are is lies or orgies.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye with a small smirk.
“Of course,” I agreed.
We lapsed into silence, staring out into the nothingness where little curls of light flickered to life occasionally. I wanted to believe that there were others out there, looking back at us.
“Would you have wanted to live down here?” I asked, trying to imagine how the city had once looked. Milo dancing through its streets.
“I dunno. I like seeing the night sky. As fake as it might be.” His head was tilted upwards, as if he were trying to peer into the sky above. “But, the idea of starting new? Of getting a second chance? Now, that’s a tempting one.”
[[You can talk to me, you know]]
[[Speaking as someone who started over, I don’t know how much I recommend it]]
[[Is there some other way to start over? Maybe with someone (start a relationship with Milo)]]“What do you think would happen if the sun just appeared one day?” I asked.
“What? Like we woke up and this big bright orb was in the sky, lighting the streets and providing nourishment to the lack of plants we have around here?” He tipped his head towards me. “Nothing. Everyone would be dumb enough to think it was just a new lantern and they would worship it or something. They’d probably think it was the Knowing.”
“Everyone can’t be that naive,” I told him.
“Oh, you would be surprised,” he laughed. “I used to do a lot of odd jobs that required me to possibly traverse places that I was expressly forbidden to be. Do you know how I got to those places? Not by being sneaky. Not by finding an alternate way in. But by fooling people into believing the weirdest things.”
“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve made someone believe before?”
He paused, kicking his feet back and forth, tipping himself forward a bit to look into the dark chasm below. A smile crossed his face after a moment, as he laughed to himself. “I once made someone believe that if they did not let me into their kitchen for a cup of tea, that a bushel of lemurs would take up residence inside their flour.”
“You did not,” I told him.
“Mr. Haskel Percevail that lives under the third tree on the right in Bygone Square, would disagree with you.”
“What would even be the point of that?” I laughed. I made a mental note to ask Hazel if there even was a Bygone Square.
“I really just wanted a cup of tea,” he grinned. Shifting closer to me, his fingers curled against the dirt, bits of it crumbling to fall below. “Here’s the secret to lies,” he said. “Make them so ridiculous that they can’t possibly be true.”
“That can’t possibly work.”
“Really? You so sure about that?”
We lapsed into silence, staring out into the nothingness where little curls of light flickered to life occasionally. I wanted to believe that there were others out there, looking back at us.
“Would you have wanted to live down here?” I asked, trying to imagine how the city had once looked. Milo dancing through its streets.
“I dunno. I like seeing the night sky. As fake as it might be.” His head was tilted upwards, as if he were trying to peer into the sky above. “But, the idea of starting new? Of getting a second chance? Now, that’s a tempting one.”
[[You can talk to me, you know]]
[[Speaking as someone who started over, I don’t know how much I recommend it]]
[[Is there some other way to start over? Maybe with someone (start a relationship with Milo)]]“I don’t actually disagree with that,” I told her. That said something about me, I was sure, but this market that was somehow mine, felt like a stop off. As if this was supposed to be a stepping stone to something more, but people ended up getting stuck. “But, I’m going to offer a bit of a twist. What if this is just the place where the people who do not belong come? It’s not bad. It’s just a place to be accepted.”
“Except in the portions of the world where we do not accept others?” she said with a raised brow. “Though, I suppose every society has a bad egg. Killing them is always an option, dear heart. Just give me the go ahead and I’ll even tell you about it.”
I smiled wanly at her, not sure if she was joking or not. With Belladonna, I thought there might be a little truth to every joke she told.
Lifting her hand, she pointed out to the expanse, past the meniscus of light from the lanterns below and towards a bleak stretch of land far beyond the market walls. “This world stretches far beyond the market,” she told me. “Tumbling further than I thought possible. Into ruins. Into abandoned places filled with history and whispering ghosts. The only thing that looks down on them now are the stars. But the stars are blind, dear heart. They see nothing. It is only a tale we tell ourselves.” Turning, she looked at me, a curious expression on her face. “The stars have never been real. But you have been.”
“What do you mean?”
“I grew up believing in gods and the heavens. That the celestial light would protect us. But this world has always taken those beliefs and turned them into childlike drawings. Something I could pluck from the pages of one of my books. But since meeting you, not once have you been that way. Not with me. Not with anyone. You have protected us. You have set aside your own fears to address the ones we all have held beneath the masquerade of confidence.” Stepping closer to me, she sighed softly, the breath of air puffing out and ghosting across my skin.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
[[I didn’t do anything]]
[[I don’t want that responsibility]]
[[I will always protect you]]
“There is good here,” I assured her. “Sometimes I think it is hidden by the steam from the Spice District but it is here.”
She sighed a little. “I suppose. Perhaps becoming the Baron has made me jaded. I am feeling rather maudlin tonight.”
“It was a big day,” I said.
“Bigger for you.”
Lifting her hand, she pointed out to the expanse, past the meniscus of light from the lanterns below and towards a bleak stretch of land far beyond the market walls. “This world stretches far beyond the market,” she told me. “Tumbling further than I thought possible. Into ruins. Into abandoned places filled with history and whispering ghosts. The only thing that looks down on them now are the stars. But the stars are blind, dear heart. They see nothing. It is only a tale we tell ourselves.” Turning, she looked at me, a curious expression on her face. “The stars have never been real. But you have been.”
“What do you mean?”
“I grew up believing in gods and the heavens. That the celestial light would protect us. But this world has always taken those beliefs and turned them into childlike drawings. Something I could pluck from the pages of one of my books. But since meeting you, not once have you been that way. Not with me. Not with anyone. You have protected us. You have set aside your own fears to address the ones we all have held beneath the masquerade of confidence.” Stepping closer to me, she sighed softly, the breath of air puffing out and ghosting across my skin.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
[[I didn’t do anything]]
[[I don’t want that responsibility]]
[[I will always protect you]]
“Given that we are literally talking about me, I really hope that it's not,” I told her. She laughed at that. Something gentle and far more human. The light from the moon hit her in a way that softened her hard edges. A side of Belladonna that the rest of the world was not privy too.
Lifting her hand, she pointed out to the expanse, past the meniscus of light from the lanterns below and towards a bleak stretch of land far beyond the market walls. “This world stretches far beyond the market,” she told me. “Tumbling further than I thought possible. Into ruins. Into abandoned places filled with history and whispering ghosts. The only thing that looks down on them now are the stars. But the stars are blind, dear heart. They see nothing. It is only a tale we tell ourselves.” Turning, she looked at me, a curious expression on her face. “The stars have never been real. But you have been.”
“What do you mean?”
“I grew up believing in gods and the heavens. That the celestial light would protect us. But this world has always taken those beliefs and turned them into childlike drawings. Something I could pluck from the pages of one of my books. But since meeting you, not once have you been that way. Not with me. Not with anyone. You have protected us. You have set aside your own fears to address the ones we all have held beneath the masquerade of confidence.” Stepping closer to me, she sighed softly, the breath of air puffing out and ghosting across my skin.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
[[I didn’t do anything]]
[[I don’t want that responsibility]]
[[I will always protect you]]
“I didn’t do anything,” I murmured. It was in part the truth. While perhaps it was possible that I had opened a gate to bring her here, or to bring others into the fold of the market, I didn’t do it on purpose. It certainly didn’t feel like something I should be accepting gratitude for.
“Sometimes,” Belladonna started. “You do not have to do something consciously to still receive gratitude from another. Sometimes,” she said, stepping even closer. “Being a good person is enough to garner appreciation.”
Tipping her head to the side, I watched her hair fall across her shoulder, subtle hints of brown highlighted among the moonlight. “You are an enigma, $name. One that I am finding I enjoy quite thoroughly.” Reaching up, she cupped my cheek, the touch gentle. “I am very sorry, dear heart, that I have not been able to tell you such.”
I felt my heart flutter in my chest, the expression on her face dear. Her voice had dropped into those soft, husky tones, that I had only dreamed of and the feel of her cool fingers on the heated skin of my cheek sent my mind buzzing. Belladonna was someone that I could so easily become lost in.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” I asked softly. “About your suspicion of me being the Night Market?”
She laughed a little, but I noticed she did not step away. “Because I do not like to be wrong,” she said with a sly smile. “And on something like that, I refused to be anything but completely right.”
“When did you know?”
“I never knew,” she corrected. “But I suspected when you first stepped into the room, looking at me lost and alone. I thought I saw the lanterns flicker in your eyes.”
“That was it? That’s what made you believe?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “That’s what made me question. To believe you are the Night Market is another thing entirely and one in which even I, am struggling to wrap my head around. I always knew you were something far more. That you were important. But I couldn’t even begin to dream of the scale in which you are.”
[[I don’t feel important]]
[[Believe me, the importance is a weight I’ve felt for a while]]
[[I don’t want to be important]]
“I don’t know if I want that responsibility,” I said, my words drifting out into the night.
“Which responsibility?” she asked. “The one where you have to accept when someone is thankful for your actions. Ones you did on your own accord?” Tipping her head to the side, her hair fell across her shoulder, subtle hints of brown highlighted among the moonlight. “I have not put responsibility on you, $name, other than to accept my gratitude. But whether you accept it or not, doesn’t mean I am not grateful.”
I swallowed thickly. It was the idea of protection. Of being responsible for them all. Of knowing that this world was mine and someone I cared for was walking upon it.
Cupping my cheek, Belladonna smiled and I wondered if she could read my thoughts. “Your mind is racing,” she said with amusement. “I enjoy the moment that you get like this. Overthinking. Concerned. Thoughts scattering. I am so very sorry, dear heart, that I have not told how much pleasure you bring me.”
I felt my heart flutter in my chest, the expression on her face dear. Her voice had dropped into those soft, husky tones, that I had only dreamed of and the feel of her cool fingers on the heated skin of my cheek sent my mind buzzing. Belladonna was someone that I could so easily become lost in.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” I asked softly. “About your suspicion of me being the Night Market?”
She laughed a little, but I noticed she did not step away. “Because I do not like to be wrong,” she said with a sly smile. “And on something like that, I refused to be anything but completely right.”
“When did you know?”
“I never knew,” she corrected. “But I suspected when you first stepped into the room, looking at me lost and alone. I thought I saw the lanterns flicker in your eyes.”
“That was it? That’s what made you believe?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “That’s what made me question. To believe you are the Night Market is another thing entirely and one in which even I, am struggling to wrap my head around. I always knew you were something far more. That you were important. But I couldn’t even begin to dream of the scale in which you are.”
[[I don’t feel important]]
[[Believe me, the importance is a weight I’ve felt for a while]]
[[I don’t want to be important]]
“I will always protect you,” I told her. Because I would. Because while I knew without a doubt, Belladonna was capable of burning down anyone that crossed her, anyone who dared to defy her, her heart could still be broken. The woman who cried as she stared at the locket, her parents gone from her sight, the smell of ash still singing her clothes, that was the heart I would be protecting. If only she would let me.
Tipping her head to the side, I watched her hair fall across her shoulder, subtle hints of brown highlighted among the moonlight. “You are an enigma, $name. One that I am finding I enjoy quite thoroughly.” Reaching up, she cupped my cheek, the touch gentle. “I am very sorry, dear heart, that I have not been able to tell you such.”
I felt my heart flutter in my chest, the expression on her face dear. Her voice had dropped into those soft, husky tones, that I had only dreamed of and the feel of her cool fingers on the heated skin of my cheek sent my mind buzzing. Belladonna was someone that I could so easily become lost in.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” I asked softly. “About your suspicion of me being the Night Market?”
She laughed a little, but I noticed she did not step away. “Because I do not like to be wrong,” she said with a sly smile. “And on something like that, I refused to be anything but completely right.”
“When did you know?”
“I never knew,” she corrected. “But I suspected when you first stepped into the room, looking at me lost and alone. I thought I saw the lanterns flicker in your eyes.”
“That was it? That’s what made you believe?”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “That’s what made me question. To believe you are the Night Market is another thing entirely and one in which even I, am struggling to wrap my head around. I always knew you were something far more. That you were important. But I couldn’t even begin to dream of the scale in which you are.”
[[I don’t feel important]]
[[Believe me, the importance is a weight I’ve felt for a while]]
[[I don’t want to be important]]
“I don’t feel important,” I told her honestly. It was something that I couldn’t quite place. How was someone like me, suddenly the Night Market. Shouldn’t the entity that embodied such a trait be far more ready to face the world head first as opposed to just stumbling through life, one domino after the other?
“I sometimes wonder if important people actually feel important? Or if the ones that feel important are feeling their privilege more than they are feeling their weight within the world.”
I couldn’t answer her. I didn’t know how to address any of it, now that I knew. Finally, I had received the answer I had been waiting for and yet it only added far more complication to my life than I had hoped for.
“I just don’t know what to do about any of this. How to even approach what I am.”
“I do not think it is a discussion to have tonight. It is far more important to let the information take its course naturally. Besides, the answer you are seeking about your own person is something that cannot be easily obtained. We will need to look into several different avenues and make sure the information we are receiving as some merit to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? My heart, you may be a piece of a whole, but that does not make you any less real. I have no idea what plans are being enacted against our accord or what is to come within the Fate’s tapestry. But I do know this.” Pressing herself against me, her eyes grew dark, her hands resting against my sides. I could feel the bite of her nail through my tunic and the way her fingers curled against my shirt.
“You are mine. Night Market or not, you will not be released back to the endless night. Do I make myself clear?”
[[What if I want to go?]]
[[We may not have a choice]]
[[I do not want to leave you]]
“Believe me,” I huffed through a laugh. “I am fully aware of the importance that is me. It is a weight I have felt for a very long time.” I hadn’t a name to it before, but the decisions that had fallen on my shoulders, the ones that they had all looked to me for, was no less heavy than they were now.
“Now we must figure out a way to not make that weight crushing,” Belladonna said firmly. The wheels were clearly turning in her head, clicking over into various ways she could reach out to the world at large for both clarity on this matter and protection.
“I just don’t know what to do about any of this. How to even approach what I am.”
“I do not think it is a discussion to have tonight. It is far more important to let the information take its course naturally. Besides, the answer you are seeking about your own person is something that cannot be easily obtained. We will need to look into several different avenues and make sure the information we are receiving as some merit to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? My heart, you may be a piece of a whole, but that does not make you any less real. I have no idea what plans are being enacted against our accord or what is to come within the Fate’s tapestry. But I do know this.” Pressing herself against me, her eyes grew dark, her hands resting against my sides. I could feel the bite of her nail through my tunic and the way her fingers curled against my shirt.
“You are mine. Night Market or not, you will not be released back to the endless night. Do I make myself clear?”
[[What if I want to go?]]
[[We may not have a choice]]
[[I do not want to leave you]]
“I don’t want to be important,” I told her softly. Not this level of it at least. What was I even supposed to do with the information that was given to me? I had known I was in the Night Market now for close to twenty-four hours and while I was not expecting some sort of big change in myself, I felt nothing physically different other than a far grander scope of fear.
Belladonna looked at me sadly, the moon dappling across her face like lace. “Dear heart, if you wanted to feel important to this scale, then you wouldn’t be who you are. You have never valued yourself above anyone else and now that you are quite literally that, you do not wish to have that acknowledged.”
“Then can we not acknowledge it?” I asked hopefully.
“No,” she said. It was done in that Belladonna way that brooked no argument. “However, I am amenable to tabling the discussion for the evening. Letting the information take its course more naturally. Besides, we must look into several ways of how we are going to go about this next.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? My heart, you may be a piece of a whole, but that does not make you any less real. I have no idea what plans are being enacted against our accord or what is to come within the Fate’s tapestry. But I do know this.” Pressing herself against me, her eyes grew dark, her hands resting against my sides. I could feel the bite of her nail through my tunic and the way her fingers curled against my shirt.
“You are mine. Night Market or not, you will not be released back to the endless night. Do I make myself clear?”
[[What if I want to go?]]
[[We may not have a choice]]
[[I do not want to leave you]]
“What if I want to go?” I asked. I phrased it with something teasing but I did wonder just how far she was willing to take this.
“Oh,” she said, a bit patronizingly. “That’s cute. But no. $name, I will need to make something clear to you now, because I have not gotten the opportunity to before.” Running her hands down my side, she twisted her fingers within my shirt. “You do not get to fall in love with me and expect me not to burn down the market to keep you by my side.”
My heart beat faster as I looked at her, a dark intensity that I had not seen from her before coating her eyes, along with a terrifying conviction that left me nearly kneeling at her feet. “The market is me,” I told her weakly.
She smiled. Stepping forward, she pulled me flush against her, her lips hovering against my own. “The market is walls,” she whispered. “It is people meandering through the streets. It is shadowy corners for cowards to hide. I will burn that down so you can live, my heart. Do not underestimate me.”
She gave me no room to answer as she pressed her lips to mine, one hand coming up to curl around the back of my head, holding me in place. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, the only thing I was aware of was the soft light of a paper moon and the woman that surrounded me, vowing death in my name. She bit at my lip, pressing her body to my own, her hand gripping at my skull in a tight hold. Her tongue was demanding as she licked the roof of my mouth, stealing my breath. I would have given her every part of me.
Pulling away, I could see her eyes crimson, her fangs poking out from beneath her lips.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she told me. “I had to get my hands a bit dirty first.”
I laughed breathlessly before dissolving into a heady moan. She jerked my head to the side, running her lips along the vein in my neck.
“Did you know that a vampire's bite can be incredibly arousing?” she asked. I didn’t, but I was not surprised. I could feel the flesh rise on my neck and the heat of arousal coiling in my belly. When she released me, I stumbled a little. She was leaning against the arched wall, her lips still puffy from our kiss. “I am incredibly curious to find out how you taste. When this entire cosmic entity business settles, let's have dinner, you and I.”
“Dinner?” I asked.
“Yes. You can order anything you like. My treat. And in return, I get you.”
[[Yes. No arguments]]
[[How do you get me?]]
[[So this entire you don’t want to be with me thing is over I take it]]
“We don’t get to just determine that, Bella,” I told her. As of yet, I wasn’t sure how I had even gotten here. If it was by choice or force. Knowing what I was, did not make any part of the original question clearer.
“//We// get to determine anything we wish,” she said forcefully. “//We// are in charge of our own destiny. And $name?” she said, my name rolling off her tongue in a delicious shiver. “You do not get to fall in love with me and expect me not to burn down the market to keep you by my side.”
My heart beat faster as I looked at her, a dark intensity that I had not seen from her before, coating her eyes, along with a terrifying conviction that left me nearly kneeling at her feet. “The market is me,” I told her weakly.
She smiled. Stepping forward, she pulled me flush against her, her lips hovering against my own. “The market is walls,” she whispered. “It is people meandering through the streets. It is shadowy corners for cowards to hide. I will burn that down so you can live, my heart. Do not underestimate me.”
She gave me no room to answer as she pressed her lips to mine, one hand coming up to curl around the back of my head, holding me in place. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, the only thing I was aware of was the soft light of a paper moon and the woman that surrounded me, vowing death in my name. She bit at my lip, pressing her body to my own, her hand gripping at my skull in a tight hold. Her tongue was demanding as she licked the roof of my mouth, stealing my breath. I would have given her every part of me.
Pulling away, I could see her eyes crimson, her fangs poking out from beneath her lips.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she told me. “I had to get my hands a bit dirty first.”
I laughed breathlessly before dissolving into a heady moan. She jerked my head to the side, running her lips along the vein in my neck.
“Did you know that a vampire's bite can be incredibly arousing?” she asked. I didn’t, but I was not surprised. I could feel the flesh rise on my neck and the heat of arousal coiling in my belly. When she released me, I stumbled a little. She was leaning against the arched wall, her lips still puffy from our kiss. “I am incredibly curious to find out how you taste. When this entire cosmic entity business settles, let's have dinner, you and I.”
“Dinner?” I asked.
“Yes. You can order anything you like. My treat. And in return, I get you.”
[[Yes. No arguments]]
[[How do you get me?]]
[[So this entire you don’t want to be with me thing is over I take it]]
“I don’t want to leave you,” I told her. This was the first time I could look at her and say those words without fear of repercussion. The cold stare she had once fixed upon me with was gone, having died with Kavatti.
“I know,” she said sweetly. “My worth is far too grand for you to walk away. I was speaking more to the fact that if anyone tries to take you from me, I will burn down the market to keep you by my side.”
My heart beat faster as I looked at her, a dark intensity that I had not seen from her before, coating her eyes, along with a terrifying conviction that left me nearly kneeling at her feet. “The market is me,” I told her weakly.
She smiled. Stepping forward, she pulled me flush against her, her lips hovering against my own. “The market is walls,” she whispered. “It is people meandering through the streets. It is shadowy corners for cowards to hide. I will burn that down so you can live, my heart. Do not underestimate me.”
She gave me no room to answer as she pressed her lips to mine, one hand coming up to curl around the back of my head, holding me in place. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, the only thing I was aware of was the soft light of a paper moon and the woman that surrounded me, vowing death in my name. She bit at my lip, pressing her body to my own, her hand gripping at my skull in a tight hold. Her tongue was demanding as she licked the roof of my mouth, stealing my breath. I would have given her every part of me.
Pulling away, I could see her eyes crimson, her fangs poking out from beneath her lips.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she told me. “I had to get my hands a bit dirty first.”
I laughed breathlessly before dissolving into a heady moan. She jerked my head to the side, running her lips along the vein in my neck.
“Did you know that a vampire's bite can be incredibly arousing?” she asked. I didn’t, but I was not surprised. I could feel the flesh rise on my neck and the heat of arousal coiling in my belly. When she released me, I stumbled a little. She was leaning against the arched wall, her lips still puffy from our kiss. “I am incredibly curious to find out how you taste. When this entire cosmic entity business settles, let's have dinner, you and I.”
“Dinner?” I asked.
“Yes. You can order anything you like. My treat. And in return, I get you.”
[[Yes. No arguments]]
[[How do you get me?]]
[[So this entire you don’t want to be with me thing is over I take it]]
“Yes,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “No arguments from me. Whatever you want. However you want.”
Belladonna laughed softly, the sound of it something beautifully decadent and smooth. Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she turned to step down into the warmer portion of the room. Where the shadows lived and the fire danced in naked lines all around her.
“I’m glad to hear of your compliance. You are mine now and in being such,I have certain expectations of you. Just remember, $name, you asked for this.”
“And what are these expectations?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
“One,” she said, flinging herself down on a velvet settee. “Honesty. Leave all bullshit at the door. When you are in this room, there are no lies, no games, not sparing the other's feelings. And that’s for both of us.”
I nodded, knowing I wasn’t quite understanding the levity of that statement but determined to find out.
“Two, you are not in charge. You will never be in charge. I will always ask about your comfort level but you will be handing yourself over to me in ways that you have never dreamed of before and before we go any further in this relationship, we will be having an in depth discussion about that.”
I was about to answer when she put up her finger, clearly indicating that she did not wish for my opinion on the matter at this moment in time.
“And three,” she continued. “Understanding. Understanding that if you choose to give yourself to me, then I give myself entirely back. There is not breaking this off. There is no leaving if things get complicated or rough. I live for eternity, $name. And so do you. We make this work.”
Laying back on the settee, she lounged in the light of the fire, her skin flush with the warmth. “Now, I do not want an answer tonight. Nor tomorrow. What I do want, however, is to take a bath.”
<<if $belladonnasex == "true">>I remember how our last bath was.”<</if>>I looked at her hopefully, ready to strip and follow.
Standing, she grinned. Slowly she began to unlace her dress, the silken material falling to the floor in a puddle. She stood there, naked and all curves. Two black diamond studs pierced through her nipples, the chain of which hung low towards her belly. “You,” she stated, “will not be following.” Kicking her dress to the side, she began sauntering towards the back of the room, her hips swaying tantalizingly from side to side. “You need to put more wood on the fire.”
I stared after her as she disappeared behind a silken screen, the silhouette of her moving languidly through the thin rice paper of her partition. I could hear the slosh of water as she climbed into a heated coal tub, hidden around back.
The world around me wasn’t making sense. I wasn’t making sense. And I certainly didn’t know what the upcoming days would bring. But what I did know, was that Belladonna Malady was naked on the other side of that thin partition, soaping up her body with the scent of night jasmine, and I could barely breathe.
[[Put wood on the fire]]
[[Join her in the tub]]
“Just how exactly do you plan to ‘get me’?” I asked, feeling the thrill of curiosity.
Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she turned to step down into the warmer portion of the room. Where the shadows lived and the fire danced in naked lines all around her.
“It’s not the how that you need to be asking,” she said. “It’s the in what way. You are mine now and in being such,I have certain expectations of you. Just remember, $name, you asked for this.”
“And what are these expectations?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
“One,” she said, flinging herself down on a velvet settee. “Honesty. Leave all bullshit at the door. When you are in this room, there are no lies, no games, not sparing the other's feelings. And that’s for both of us.”
I nodded, knowing I wasn’t quite understanding the levity of that statement but determined to find out.
“Two, you are not in charge. You will never be in charge. I will always ask about your comfort level but you will be handing yourself over to me in ways that you have never dreamed of before and before we go any further in this relationship, we will be having an in depth discussion about that.”
I was about to answer when she put up her finger, clearly indicating that she did not wish for my opinion on the matter at this moment in time.
“And three,” she continued. “Understanding. Understanding that if you choose to give yourself to me, then I give myself entirely back. There is not breaking this off. There is no leaving if things get complicated or rough. I live for eternity, $name. And so do you. We make this work.”
Laying back on the settee, she lounged in the light of the fire, her skin flush with the warmth. “Now, I do not want an answer tonight. Nor tomorrow. What I do want, however, is to take a bath.”
<<if $belladonnasex == "true">>I remember how our last bath was.”<</if>>I looked at her hopefully, ready to strip and follow.
Standing, she grinned. Slowly she began to unlace her dress, the silken material falling to the floor in a puddle. She stood there, naked and all curves. Two black diamond studs pierced through her nipples, the chain of which hung low towards her belly. “You,” she stated, “will not be following.” Kicking her dress to the side, she began sauntering towards the back of the room, her hips swaying tantalizingly from side to side. “You need to put more wood on the fire.”
I stared after her as she disappeared behind a silken screen, the silhouette of her moving languidly through the thin rice paper of her partition. I could hear the slosh of water as she climbed into a heated coal tub, hidden around back.
The world around me wasn’t making sense. I wasn’t making sense. And I certainly didn’t know what the upcoming days would bring. But what I did know, was that Belladonna Malady was naked on the other side of that thin partition, soaping up her body with the scent of night jasmine, and I could barely breathe.
[[Put wood on the fire]]
[[Join her in the tub]]
“So this entire, you don’t want to be with me thing is over, I take it.” For months, she had been denying me. Telling me not to love her. Pushing me away at every turn and keeping me at arm's length. Now, she looked as if she wished to devour me and I was sorely tempted to beg her to.
Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she turned to step down into the warmer portion of the room. Where the shadows lived and the fire danced in naked lines all around her.
“Of course it is. You are mine now and in being such,I have certain expectations of you. Just remember, $name, you asked for this.”
“And what are these expectations?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
“One,” she said, flinging herself down on a velvet settee. “Honesty. Leave all bullshit at the door. When you are in this room, there are no lies, no games, not sparing the other's feelings. And that’s for both of us.”
I nodded, knowing I wasn’t quite understanding the levity of that statement but determined to find out.
“Two, you are not in charge. You will never be in charge. I will always ask about your comfort level but you will be handing yourself over to me in ways that you have never dreamed of before and before we go any further in this relationship, we will be having an in depth discussion about that.”
I was about to answer when she put up her finger, clearly indicating that she did not wish for my opinion on the matter at this moment in time.
“And three,” she continued. “Understanding. Understanding that if you choose to give yourself to me, then I give myself entirely back. There is not breaking this off. There is no leaving if things get complicated or rough. I live for eternity, $name. And so do you. We make this work.”
Laying back on the settee, she lounged in the light of the fire, her skin flush with the warmth. “Now, I do not want an answer tonight. Nor tomorrow. What I do want, however, is to take a bath.”
<<if $belladonnasex == "true">>I remember how our last bath was.”<</if>>I looked at her hopefully, ready to strip and follow.
Standing, she grinned. Slowly she began to unlace her dress, the silken material falling to the floor in a puddle. She stood there, naked and all curves. Two black diamond studs pierced through her nipples, the chain of which hung low towards her belly. “You,” she stated, “will not be following.” Kicking her dress to the side, she began sauntering towards the back of the room, her hips swaying tantalizingly from side to side. “You need to put more wood on the fire.”
I stared after her as she disappeared behind a silken screen, the silhouette of her moving languidly through the thin rice paper of her partition. I could hear the slosh of water as she climbed into a heated coal tub, hidden around back.
The world around me wasn’t making sense. I wasn’t making sense. And I certainly didn’t know what the upcoming days would bring. But what I did know, was that Belladonna Malady was naked on the other side of that thin partition, soaping up her body with the scent of night jasmine, and I could barely breathe.
[[Put wood on the fire]]
[[Join her in the tub]]
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” I said. Either trying to convince her or myself.
“Of course it will. You have me and the Warden mingling within the crowds. If either of us gets a whiff of something foul at play, Milo will be dead before he even hits the ground. Most likely by my hand. Though, Gabriel does sometimes surprise me.”
I took a steadying breath. It has been weeks and Milo had not shown his face. Not once. There was no possible way he didn’t know Malcolm was back. What Hazel had done. Milo was avoiding us. The reprieve was simply the precursor to his final game at hand.
Seeing my thoughts, Belladonna inched closer. Her skin was cold tonight and soothed me as she pressed herself from hip to chest against my back.
“When I walk into a room where I do not know the rules of the game, do you know what I do?”
“Exude dominatrix confidence that has everyone panting at your feet?”
She smiled. “Flatterer. No. I put on the most neutral expression I can. Because when you do that, everyone thinks you are bored. That you are simply uncaring of what they are doing or saying. Perfect that.”
“What? Right now?”
She gestured towards the mirror.
It took me a few minutes but I drew a carefully blank expression across my face. Belladonna was right. I did look bored. Completely apathetic to what was going on around me.
“There,” she said. “Keep that and I can guarantee you, it does not matter how much of an upper hand anyone might have. They will think you have outplayed them and that is the moment when they will slip up.
I kept my face neutral, letting my shoulders sag.
Bored.
Look bored.
It was a toss up whether I could mimic the efforts of someone like Belladonna.
[[Next|B Ball]]I narrowed my eyes. “What do you know?” Belladonna always knew everything. There was something lingering beneath her gaze.
“It’s not something I know,” she said. “It’s an observation but it is not a useful one.”
“I would still like to hear it.”
She looked as if she would deny me for a moment, her crimson lips pressed together as she debated what to say. She was trying, however. Trying much more since Kavatti. “Like I said, it is just an observation, but, the Gatekeeper is the one Baron who does not stay in their position for long. Milo has held it for ten years. That is unheard of, dear heart. What kind of man does he have to be to keep the most dangerous job within the Night Market, while still brazen enough to dance through the market streets with a cask of ale?”
My stomach rolled at the thought. Milo had hidden in plain sight. I wanted to say it was incredibly stupid but I now had to consider the fact that it might actually be exactly what had kept him alive.
“An observation,” Belladonna reminded me.
But it stuck in my head.
Whatever tonight brought, I knew I shouldn’t underestimate Milo Next.
“When I walk into a room where I do not know the rules of the game, do you know what I do?”
“Exude dominatrix confidence that has everyone panting at your feet?”
She smiled. “Flatterer. No. I put on the most neutral expression I can. Because when you do that, everyone thinks you are bored. That you are simply uncaring of what they are doing or saying. Perfect that.”
“What? Right now?”
She gestured towards the mirror.
It took me a few minutes but I drew a carefully blank expression across my face. Belladonna was right. I did look bored. Completely apathetic to what was going on around me.
“There,” she said. “Keep that and I can guarantee you, it does not matter how much of an upper hand anyone might have. They will think you have outplayed them and that is the moment when they will slip up.
I kept my face neutral, letting my shoulders sag.
Bored.
Look bored.
It was a toss up whether I could mimic the efforts of someone like Belladonna.
[[Next|B Ball]]“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” I told her quickly. “We are playing his game. He holds all the cards. If Milo wants to talk to us maybe we should make him come here.”
“Do you think you could make him?” Belladonna asked, raising a brow.
“No. Maybe not me. But Malcolm. Hazel. He would have to come for those two.”
Leaning forward, Belladonna smoothed her hands down my arms, giving me a moment for my fear to course through me. “Then why hasn’t he?” she asked gently. It had been weeks and Milo had not shown his face. Not once. There was no possible way he didn’t know Malcolm was back. What Hazel had done. Milo was avoiding us and there was nothing I was going to be able to do to get him here. We had to play on his terms.
“When I walk into a room where I do not know the rules of the game, do you know what I do?”
“Exude dominatrix confidence that has everyone panting at your feet?”
She smiled. “Flatterer. No. I put on the most neutral expression I can. Because when you do that, everyone thinks you are bored. That you are simply uncaring of what they are doing or saying. Perfect that.”
“What? Right now?”
She gestured towards the mirror.
It took me a few minutes but I drew a carefully blank expression across my face. Belladonna was right. I did look bored. Completely apathetic to what was going on around me.
“There,” she said. “Keep that and I can guarantee you, it does not matter how much of an upper hand anyone might have. They will think you have outplayed them and that is the moment when they will slip up.
I kept my face neutral, letting my shoulders sag.
Bored.
Look bored.
It was a toss up whether I could mimic the efforts of someone like Belladonna.
[[Next|B Ball]]Taliesin Hynsin’s estate was a sprawling expanse of white and glittering marble set against the backdrop of dripping gemstone trees and polished glass flowerbeds. Standing at the base of the staircase leading up to the brightly lit chateau, I looked around, trying to take in the splendor of my surroundings. The trees bent like willows, drops of rubies clinging to their limbs before weeping towards blades of emerald cut grass. Large fountains carved from lapis tumbled with a tinkling chime as rose quartz fell into a pool of glittering opal koi. And above it all, hung large lanterns made of moonstone, the likes of which had shards of fire quartz falling like frozen bits of light across a midnight stitched sky.
Slowly, I made my way up the gluttony of stairs, Belladonna leading the way and looking absolutely like she belonged. The revelry from within was already spilling across the entrance as individuals in finely made ballgowns and suits tumbled across the entrance in a mimicry of dance. Their laughter filled the air with song, their masked faces adding to the opulence, and all around me, around the entirety of the estate, not a single bush, a single blade of grass, a single polished bench, was out of place. Baron Hynsin spared no expense when it came to his home, the likes of which sat high upon a moon dusted hill near the outskirts of the market proper.
Delicately, we made our way around the people milling out front, most of them with drink in hand and their eyes alight with the wonder that was all around them. Occasionally we had to stop so Belladonna could trade pleasantries with some of the upper tier individuals of the Night Market. I noticed there were several people she gave the cold shoulder to as well.
It took us a moment but we made our way to the ballroom. Belladonna had made it abundantly clear from the moment we stepped foot upon the estate that I was her date. Her arm was possessively linked within mine and she kept me close. It was no different when we entered the large room with the glass polished floors. A large chandelier was the star of the room, hanging from a vaulted ceiling and twirling with shifting crystals that reflected the twirling gowns and coat tails below.
A bar was off to the far right, the surface a sheet of ice with frozen bursts of obsidian coloring within. Large vases of peacock feathers adorned each end of it while small dripping rosebud candles dotted along the bar itself. The light in here was bright and yet softened at each corner of the room, as if to put a spotlight on the dance floor itself.
I had to do a double take as my eyes drifted down the length of the bar. “Is that…?” Gabriel stood at attention, hair slicked back like normal, but it was the fact that he was not wearing his uniform that had caught me off guard. Never before did I think I had seen him without his Warden issues regalia.
“Oh, the Warden has decided to pull out all the stops tonight. This is a good sign,” she grinned. “It does mean that he plans to keep his focus solely on you and Mr. Next.”
We made our way to him, stopping at his side. I could see the way he was observing the room, looking for Milo no doubt. He still gave both of us a respectful bow upon arrival.
“Gabriel,” I said. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you in anything other than your Warden gear.” It was slightly unnerving to see the man dressed all in black, even his undershirt a rich hue of midnight.
“Yes, Gabriel,” Belladonna grinned. “It is nice to finally see you in the singular suit that you own. The one that I had picked out for you years ago and the one that, gasp, you said you threw away.” She leaned towards him, her shoulder brushing against his own. “You must have dug it out of the dumpster. It’s a marvel that it was still there after all these years.”
“Even more amazing,” he said dryly. “Is that you have been standing here for close to a minute and have not mentioned your newfound Baronhood.”
“Gabriel,” she said sweetly. “Did you know I am now a Baron?” He snorted a little in laughter, sipping at his tumbler of ice water and shaking his head at her.
I stared at the two of them with a small smile of amusement on my lips. So different from when I had first met them. Still catty, but now a much more playful tone had entered their banter.
“Would you like a drink, $name?” Gabriel asked, ready to turn to the bartender and order for me.
[[Yes please|Chapter Twelve yes please]]
[[Better not]]
[[If I had my way I would be smashed by now]]
“He is trying to save me,” I said. That’s what he had told me, at least. That was what he was trying to go with. I’m not sure if it was a situation he was trying to convince me of or if it was something he was convincing himself. “It’s not adding up,” I told her.
“Because liars struggle not to lie,” Belladonna said, swirling the contents of her glass.
“But he seems genuine with his excuse.”
“Then why ignore us for so long?”
I didn’t know. I wondered if he even knew. “Did you get anything while you were down here?” I asked hopefully.
“No ones works with Hynsin,” Belladonna said. “They may think they are but the thing you need to know about goblins is they do not work well with others and they will betray you at the drop of a hat. Loyalty is not strong within them. Though, from what I understand, loyalty is not a valued asset down in the mirror realm. They have their own moral code there, I suppose. Either that or the nobles beat their own sense of morality into the hive mind and they all have simply adopted it as their own.”
Belladonna sipped her drink, waiting for the information to settle. “Hive mind?” I asked
“It’s the glass.” She tapped her nails along the rim of her wine flute. “You’ve surly noticed by now that most goblins have glass shoved within their gums? Most of the time, that means they are connected to the hive mind. All communicating and moving as one. Now, the high nobles are not as tapped into the cannon fodder that they send to destroy the realms. Those are beneath them. The equivalent of pests, really. I have never had a goblin tell me for certain how it works but I am assuming there are tiers. After all, you cannot expect someone of nobility to be tuned into the same channel as the little worker drones.”
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with it. There was a time I would have interpreted Belladonna’s tone to mean that she agreed with the separation of nobility. But I had learned that Belladonna often spoke but never truly gave away her thoughts on the matter. Not unless you were listening well.
“You don’t like them,” I stated.
“A more accurate statement would be that I don’t like nobility,” she whispered. “Necessary evils are not always a justification for our actions.” Finishing off her glass, she raised it to the bartender across the way. But before the little faun could come over, I watched as someone else ambled into view. His hulking frame approaching us with an extra glass perched within his large hands. Belladonna’s face lit up.
“Feebus,” she said in greeting. The big man leaned down to kiss either side of her cheek before handing her the glass of wine that smelled faintly of copper.
“Belladonna,” he said. “You look like the vixen you truly are. And $name, spectacular choice of evening wear,” he grinned, looking me over with an appraising tone. <<if $dress == "bella">> “When Belladonna asked me to make something for you, I was absolutely delighted.<</if>>
“$name does look rather stunning.” Belladonna grinned, as if she could be no prouder. “Feebus, maybe you could help us a bit. We were just discussing your wayward youth and Hynsin,” Belladonna proclaimed. “You wouldn’t know anything about that situation.”
“Now, Bella, Milo is like a son to me,” he said, a large tankard in his hand. “I don’t bad mouth family. Hynsin, however, is fair game.”
[[Why would Milo work with the Baron?]]
[[Do you know what he is?]]
[[No one seems to like Baron Hynsin all that much]]
Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to remain steady. The conversation I had had with Milo was running around in my head, filled with heated words that said one thing while his face told a different story. I didn’t know what to believe and despite having stood out on that balcony with him, I felt no closer to the answers we sought than I had been yesterday.
“I’m not sure I fully understand what he is trying to tell me,” I said. “Did you get anything while you were down here?”
“Not specifically,” she said. “But observation has made it known that no one at this party knows exactly why Taliesin has thrown this ball, which is concerning all on its own given that he never throws a ball without a reason. They are also giving a wide berth to Milo, which, given that he is a nobody, seems odd.”
“Is he working with Baron Hynsin?” I asked.
“No ones works with Hynsin,” Belladonna said. “They may think they are but the thing you need to know about goblins is they do not work well with others and they will betray you at the drop of a hat. Loyalty is not strong within them. Though, from what I understand, loyalty is not a valued asset down in the mirror realm. They have their own moral code there, I suppose. Either that or the nobles beat their own sense of morality into the hive mind and they all have simply adopted it as their own.”
Belladonna sipped her drink, waiting for the information to settle. “Hive mind?” I asked
“It’s the glass.” She tapped her nails along the rim of her wine flute. “You’ve surly noticed by now that most goblins have glass shoved within their gums? Most of the time, that means they are connected to the hive mind. All communicating and moving as one. Now, the high nobles are not as tapped into the cannon fodder that they send to destroy the realms. Those are beneath them. The equivalent of pests, really. I have never had a goblin tell me for certain how it works but I am assuming there are tiers. After all, you cannot expect someone of nobility to be tuned into the same channel as the little worker drones.”
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with it. There was a time I would have interpreted Belladonna’s tone to mean that she agreed with the separation of nobility. But I had learned that Belladonna often spoke but never truly gave away her thoughts on the matter. Not unless you were listening well.
“You don’t like them,” I stated.
“A more accurate statement would be that I don’t like nobility,” she whispered. “Necessary evils are not always a justification for our actions.” Finishing off her glass, she raised it to the bartender across the way. But before the little faun could come over, I watched as someone else ambled into view. His hulking frame approaching us with an extra glass perched within his large hands. Belladonna’s face lit up.
“Feebus,” she said in greeting. The big man leaned down to kiss either side of her cheek before handing her the glass of wine that smelled faintly of copper.
“Belladonna,” he said. “You look like the vixen you truly are. And $name, spectacular choice of evening wear,” he grinned, looking me over with an appraising tone. <<if $dress == "bella">> “When Belladonna asked me to make something for you, I was absolutely delighted.<</if>>
“$name does look rather stunning.” Belladonna grinned, as if she could be no prouder. “Feebus, maybe you could help us a bit. We were just discussing your wayward youth and Hynsin,” Belladonna proclaimed. “You wouldn’t know anything about that situation.”
“Now, Bella, Milo is like a son to me,” he said, a large tankard in his hand. “I don’t bad mouth family. Hynsin, however, is fair game.”
[[Why would Milo work with the Baron?]]
[[Do you know what he is?]]
[[No one seems to like Baron Hynsin all that much]]
“He doesn’t have one,” I told her. “He tried to justify everything but he is clearly in over his head.” Milo wasn’t making sense. Not the kind that I could get behind for his behavior. I thought I saw fear there or maybe it had just been my imagination. Though, I didn’t think that what I was receiving was the full truth. In fact, given that he was someone who had lied to us for the past several months, I was almost certain it was not the full truth.
“Yes, I would think he is, given that from what I can gather, he is working for Baron Hynsin.” I glanced towards the man with the bell curled horns. He was making his way around the room, stopping to speak to several groups of people, none of which I recognized.
“Working for or working with?”
“No ones works with Hynsin,” Belladonna said. “They may think they are but the thing you need to know about goblins is they do not work well with others and they will betray you at the drop of a hat. Loyalty is not strong within them. Though, from what I understand, loyalty is not a valued asset down in the mirror realm. They have their own moral code there, I suppose. Either that or the nobles beat their own sense of morality into the hive mind and they all have simply adopted it as their own.”
Belladonna sipped her drink, waiting for the information to settle. “Hive mind?” I asked
“It’s the glass.” She tapped her nails along the rim of her wine flute. “You’ve surly noticed by now that most goblins have glass shoved within their gums? Most of the time, that means they are connected to the hive mind. All communicating and moving as one. Now, the high nobles are not as tapped into the cannon fodder that they send to destroy the realms. Those are beneath them. The equivalent of pests, really. I have never had a goblin tell me for certain how it works but I am assuming there are tiers. After all, you cannot expect someone of nobility to be tuned into the same channel as the little worker drones.”
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with it. There was a time I would have interpreted Belladonna’s tone to mean that she agreed with the separation of nobility. But I had learned that Belladonna often spoke but never truly gave away her thoughts on the matter. Not unless you were listening well.
“You don’t like them,” I stated.
“A more accurate statement would be that I don’t like nobility,” she whispered. “Necessary evils are not always a justification for our actions.” Finishing off her glass, she raised it to the bartender across the way. But before the little faun could come over, I watched as someone else ambled into view. His hulking frame approaching us with an extra glass perched within his large hands. Belladonna’s face lit up.
“Feebus,” she said in greeting. The big man leaned down to kiss either side of her cheek before handing her the glass of wine that smelled faintly of copper.
“Belladonna,” he said. “You look like the vixen you truly are. And $name, spectacular choice of evening wear,” he grinned, looking me over with an appraising tone. <<if $dress == "bella">> “When Belladonna asked me to make something for you, I was absolutely delighted.<</if>>
“$name does look rather stunning.” Belladonna grinned, as if she could be no prouder. “Feebus, maybe you could help us a bit. We were just discussing your wayward youth and Hynsin,” Belladonna proclaimed. “You wouldn’t know anything about that situation.”
“Now, Bella, Milo is like a son to me,” he said, a large tankard in his hand. “I don’t bad mouth family. Hynsin, however, is fair game.”
[[Why would Milo work with the Baron?]]
[[Do you know what he is?]]
[[No one seems to like Baron Hynsin all that much]]
“Do you know why Milo would work with the Baron?” I asked. I wanted to follow up with, why would he work with a Baron when it was against the rules for him to. Or, why would he work with a Baron and not his own friends and family.
Or why did he lie to us for so long when it was my life at stake.
“That,” Feebus said with a drawn out sigh, “I do not know. I was unaware of it until quite recently. Despite learning that they have had quite a lot of contact with each other.”
“Yes,” Belladonna said with a small sneer. “I have also come to realize some things about dear little Milo I had not before. My agents have been scouring the market for little kernels of his past and have turned up quite a few unsavory things, dear Feebus. Ones, that you have helped him cover up.”
“He was a boy,” Feebus stated. “And he was not given a lot of advantages in life.”
“His body count may be as high as mine, Feebus. That is impressive.”
I stared at Belladonna. Milo had killed before. Not only had he killed, but efficiently and secretly. How much did we not know about him?
“Impressive or not, I believe he is in over his head with the Collector.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to keep up. “The Collector?”
“Taliesin Hynsin is a collector,” Belladonna murmured to me, filling me in. “Not of items but of individuals. He likes interesting souls and when he has them, he does not let them go.”
“Is this against their will?” I asked.
“Oh yes.” It didn’t go unnoticed to me how close she sat. How vigilant she seemed. I was an interesting individual. And Taliesin knew that I was the Night Market. Milo was also interesting, given that he was the Gatekeeper himself.
Turning in her chair, Belladonna leaned close to me, as if in conversation. “Take the vampire, for example.” She nodded to the second story where a woman stood, tall and statuesque. A shock of white hair was piled high off her neck and she looked down, surveying the room with milky eyes. “Carmella Malavia,” Belladonna said. “One of the eternals from Dark Hollow. She is incredibly powerful and incredibly influential within her own realm. Yet, Taliesin caught her somehow, during a bout with the Wild Hunt, and has her completely under his control. No one is sure how or why but not a single person believes she is acting on her own accord.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Why would an eternal, arguably one of the oldest vampires in existence, be a goblin's lapdog?” Feebus pointed out.
“Not only that,” Belladonna continued, hiding her words behind a well-placed glass. “But she is said to have been dear friends with the Lady Chrysanthemum. Yet, Lady Malavia does not even recognize her and in fact, has tried to kill her on several occasions. Or at the very least, attempted to bring Lady Chrysanthemum to live within these palace walls.”
I looked around. Everything was beautiful and not a single thing was out of place. It reminded me of Elias’s. How everything looked nearly perfect. But unlike the Dollmakers estate, Baron Hynsin’s ballroom looked lived in. Whether it was because of the people dancing in circles or the general air of revelry that swam through the air, I didn’t know. But I made no mistake. Taliesin was obviously a very dangerous man.
“The reason I came over here, Belladonna, is to warn you that there are several large groups of individuals who are not happy you have become a Baron.”
Belladonna rolled her eyes, looking far more annoyed than anything else. “Because Kavatti was such a fun person to be around.”
“You know how it is,” Feebus murmured. “You’re new. You pose far more of a threat than she ever did, and I hear you’ve already taken out half of the cathedral?”
I looked at Belladonna.
[[Why am I not surprised]]
[[Is that why you were late for the meeting the other day?]]
[[You did what?]]
“Do you know what he is?” I asked Feebus.
For Feebus’s credit, he didn’t flinch. Though when he stepped closer, I could feel the threat of the bigger man. Belladonna sat up straight, shooting him a glare but nothing more. To an outsider, this was a friendly conversation. But I knew very much that I was now being drawn into the inner circle of information.
“I do not know what you speak of,” Feebus said. “Milo has always been a secretive man. Not so much in the actively hiding of his personal business, but more so in just not broadcasting the, let's say, more unsavory things he gets up to. So, whatever it is that you are referring to, I would suggest not speaking it out loud. No one likes personal business aired to strangers.”
It was a new facet to Milo that I had not considered yet. The fact that he may be something far different from what he presented to the world. This man, at least, seemed to want to protect that. Giving nothing away to the idea that he knew whether his adopted son was the Gatekeeper.
“Really, Feebus,” Belladonna started. “Leave $name be. Your boy has been causing problems.”
“That boy has caused problems from the second he came to the Night Market, Bella. This is not news. But his problems are his to bear. I had to give up on helping him with them a long time ago.”
Belladonna looked at him with narrowed eyes. “That’s not what I heard.”
“Perhaps you have heard differently then. You may want to check your lines of information, now that you are a Baron, darling. People would love nothing more than to finally bring the great Belladonna Malady to her knees. Which,” he said, smiling jovially at a few people that passed, “is one of the reasons I have come here.”
I straightened at that. “Is there trouble?” Belladonna would never be concerned with it. I, however, would be.
“Very potentially, yes,” Feebus said. “There are several large groups of individuals who are not happy you have become a Baron, my darling Bella.”
Belladonna rolled her eyes, looking far more annoyed than anything else. “Because Kavatti was such a fun person to be around.”
“You know how it is,” Feebus murmured. “You’re new. You pose far more of a threat than she ever did, and I hear you’ve already taken out half of the cathedral?”
I looked at Belladonna.
[[Why am I not surprised]]
[[Is that why you were late for the meeting the other day?]]
[[You did what?]]
“For the amount of people who are at this ball, it doesn’t seem like many people like this Baron all that much.” And there were a lot of people. Hundreds, to be exact. The ballroom consisted of three separate floors and while the dance floor was only situated on the main, private balconies and little alcoves with dimly lit seating areas, littered the upper tiers. I could see the wait staff walking back and forth, trays of food and drinks balanced in their palms.
“Everyone wants to be friends with a Baron,” Feebus commented. Though he sounded as if it was almost a deterrent to him being here in the first place. A man with the charisma Feebus had was not struggling to make friends in high places.
Belladonna sighed. “Say what you wish, but Taliesin does put on a lavish party. And he offers a bit of spectacle that most crave.”
“Rumor has it he has his eyes on a new piece for his collection,” Feebus murmured. “A boy with a clockwork heart.”
I looked back and forth between the two of them. Both of them had neutral faces as they stiffly looked around the room. They were old hat at sussing out the secrets within a group of people, all without moving a muscle.
“Taliesin Hynsin is a collector,” Belladonna murmured to me, filling me in. “Not of items but of individuals. He likes interesting souls and when he has them, he does not let them go.”
“Is this against their will?” I asked.
“Oh yes.” It didn’t go unnoticed to me how close she sat. How vigilant she seemed. I was an interesting individual. And Taliesin knew that I was the Night Market. Milo was also interesting, given that he was the Gatekeeper himself.
Turning in her chair, Belladonna leaned close to me, as if in conversation. “Take the vampire, for example.” She nodded to the second story where a woman stood, tall and statuesque. A shock of white hair was piled high off her neck and she looked down, surveying the room with milky eyes. “Carmella Malavia,” Belladonna said. “One of the eternals from Dark Hollow. She is incredibly powerful and incredibly influential within her own realm. Yet, Taliesin caught her somehow, during a bout with the Wild Hunt, and has her completely under his control. No one is sure how or why but not a single person believes she is acting on her own accord.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Why would an eternal, arguably one of the oldest vampires in existence, be a goblin's lapdog?” Feebus pointed out.
“Not only that,” Belladonna continued, hiding her words behind a well-placed glass. “But she is said to have been dear friends with the Lady Chrysanthemum. Yet, Lady Malavia does not even recognize her and in fact, has tried to kill her on several occasions. Or at the very least, attempted to bring Lady Chrysanthemum to live within these palace walls.”
I looked around. Everything was beautiful and not a single thing was out of place. It reminded me of Elias’s. How everything looked nearly perfect. But unlike the Dollmakers estate, Baron Hynsin’s ballroom looked lived in. Whether it was because of the people dancing in circles or the general air of revelry that swam through the air, I didn’t know. But I made no mistake. Taliesin was obviously a very dangerous man.
“The reason I came over here, Belladonna, is to warn you that there are several large groups of individuals who are not happy you have become a Baron.”
Belladonna rolled her eyes, looking far more annoyed than anything else. “Because Kavatti was such a fun person to be around.”
“You know how it is,” Feebus murmured. “You’re new. You pose far more of a threat than she ever did, and I hear you’ve already taken out half of the cathedral?”
I looked at Belladonna.
[[Why am I not surprised]]
[[Is that why you were late for the meeting the other day?]]
[[You did what?]]
“Why am I not surprised?” I had a feeling life with Belladonna would have many moments like this. Moments where I would casually learn that the blood in her veins was from someone else. That her nails were painted red to hide the stains. Thankfully, given everything else that was going on, it didn’t bother me. Or maybe I had just accepted the fact that morality was gray like she was always telling me.
“Don’t worry, my heart. I will never bring something like that to our bed.”
Feebus raised a brow at her. “You two seeing each other now? About damn time. Thought you would never take the step towards actually having a relationship.” Looking at me, he shook his head. “We once had a bet of when she would break and finally give in to companionship. You know who won that bet? Her.”
I laughed a little. That sounded about right. “I only pity the people who bet against her. You know she is stubborn enough to make sure the bet goes in her favor. Or kill the ones who might oppose it.”
She looked almost pleased with the statement and as she leaned forward, her eyes were dancing with the lit gems around us. “How I wish I could lick those words right from your mouth,” she told me. “Would you like a reward when we leave tonight? Do you wish for me to take care of you?”
Feebus didn’t allow me to answer as he loudly cleared his throat. “Behave, Bella,” he said. At first, I thought it was in relation to me. But then, I saw Milo heading towards us. Feebus stepped forward almost immediately, clasping Milo’s shoulder in his meaty palm. “My boy,” he boomed loudly. When he leaned forward to give him a hug, I could see him murmur something in Milo’s ear. His face went carefully neutral at whatever Feebus had said, but by the grip of the man's fingers on his shoulders, it didn’t seem he was very happy with his adoptive son.
“Would you like to finish that talk now?” Stepping away from Feebus, Milo didn’t bother to look at Belladonna. Only having eyes for me.
“Milo,’ Belladonna cooed. I could hear the edge to her voice.
“Not allowed to talk to you, Belladonna,” Milo said with a thin smile. “And I’d say I’d see you at the next monthly meeting but we both know I won’t be attending those.”
“No,” she said slowly. “Why would you? It would require you to not be a coward.” Milo’s eyes ticked to her, his smirk becoming something condescending. When Belladonna took another sip of her wine, I could tell she was not done yet. Feebus ignored them both. “I must say, Milo. Now that Malcolm’s back, do you plan on keeping your job for long?”
“Considering I value my life, yes,” he said blandly.
“Malcolm didn’t think it suited you all that well,” she said. “He made mention of you not doing well with responsibility.”
“Then perhaps,” Milo said, matching her tone. “He should have thought about that before taking the risks he did that night. We might all have been a bit happier with him in this position. Although, I must ask, Bella. Are you pissed because I’m now in a position to fuck you over without paying?”
“Oh, Milo,” Belladonna cooed. “I would love to see you try but unfortunately I have a policy about street rats. Unless they are using their tongues to pleasure me, I’d rather just cut them out entirely.”
“Alright you two,” Feebus said. “I have told you both to behave and I’m not repeatin’ myself. Milo, finish up your business. Bella, your wine.”
The two of them stared daggers at each other, both clearly contemplating continuing and adding to the scene. Milo stepped back though, gesturing to her with a small bow. As if to say ‘you won’. Belladonna’s eyes darkened at it, her grip tightening around the stem of her glass. Turning to me, she pulled me close, pressing her blood stained lips to mine. Her scent was suddenly everywhere and I felt nearly woozy with it.
Pulling back, she dragged her thumb across my bottom lip, gathering our combined taste before she sucked the digit into her mouth.
“You have thirty minutes,” she said huskily. “Then I come find you.”
I nodded once, longing to stay in the sweet embrace of her arms, but knowing I would need to follow Milo out into the garden.
[[Next|B End 2]]
“Is that why you were late for the meeting the other day?” I asked. When she had burst through the apothecary doors like a storm, babbling and looking flushed. It was because she had recently fed. But more importantly, had recently killed.
“I am a busy woman, $name. It is truly nothing to concern yourself with.” But I was going to concern myself with it. Mainly because, I wanted her to be my concern now. The steady look I gave her was not one of disappointment but one that said she had misstepped. Her eyes were narrowed as we entered a game of chicken, seeing who would speak first.
Of course, it was me. It would probably always be me. “Bella…”
“Fine,” she said with a huff. “The next time I plan to pop someone's head like a grape, I will inform you.”
For once, she sounded actually frustrated. Not with me, but with herself. “Honesty, Belladonna. You want it from me, I want it from you.” It was the foundation in which she had set. The one she had wanted me to follow. And in return, she would give the same.
She looked almost pleased with the statement and as she leaned forward, her eyes were dancing with the lit gems around us. “How I wish I could lick those words right from your mouth,” she told me. “Would you like a reward when we leave tonight? Do you wish for me to take care of you?”
Feebus didn’t allow me to answer as he loudly cleared his throat. “Behave, Bella,” he said. At first, I thought it was in relation to me. But then, I saw Milo heading towards us. Feebus stepped forward almost immediately, clasping Milo’s shoulder in his meaty palm. “My boy,” he boomed loudly. When he leaned forward to give him a hug, I could see him murmur something in Milo’s ear. His face went carefully neutral at whatever Feebus had said, but by the grip of the man's fingers on his shoulders, it didn’t seem he was very happy with his adoptive son.
“Would you like to finish that talk now?” Stepping away from Feebus, Milo didn’t bother to look at Belladonna. Only having eyes for me.
“Milo,’ Belladonna cooed. I could hear the edge to her voice.
“Not allowed to talk to you, Belladonna,” Milo said with a thin smile. “And I’d say I’d see you at the next monthly meeting but we both know I won’t be attending those.”
“No,” she said slowly. “Why would you? It would require you to not be a coward.” Milo’s eyes ticked to her, his smirk becoming something condescending. When Belladonna took another sip of her wine, I could tell she was not done yet. Feebus ignored them both. “I must say, Milo. Now that Malcolm’s back, do you plan on keeping your job for long?”
“Considering I value my life, yes,” he said blandly.
“Malcolm didn’t think it suited you all that well,” she said. “He made mention of you not doing well with responsibility.”
“Then perhaps,” Milo said, matching her tone. “He should have thought about that before taking the risks he did that night. We might all have been a bit happier with him in this position. Although, I must ask, Bella. Are you pissed because I’m now in a position to fuck you over without paying?”
“Oh, Milo,” Belladonna cooed. “I would love to see you try but unfortunately I have a policy about street rats. Unless they are using their tongues to pleasure me, I’d rather just cut them out entirely.”
“Alright you two,” Feebus said. “I have told you both to behave and I’m not repeatin’ myself. Milo, finish up your business. Bella, your wine.”
The two of them stared daggers at each other, both clearly contemplating continuing and adding to the scene. Milo stepped back though, gesturing to her with a small bow. As if to say ‘you won’. Belladonna’s eyes darkened at it, her grip tightening around the stem of her glass. Turning to me, she pulled me close, pressing her blood stained lips to mine. Her scent was suddenly everywhere and I felt nearly woozy with it.
Pulling back, she dragged her thumb across my bottom lip, gathering our combined taste before she sucked the digit into her mouth.
“You have thirty minutes,” she said huskily. “Then I come find you.”
I nodded once, longing to stay in the sweet embrace of her arms, but knowing I would need to follow Milo out into the garden.
[[Next|B End 2]]
I didn’t even try to hide my expression from her. “You did what?” It had only been a few days since Kavatti, and apparently Belladonna was already partaking in another bloodbath.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” she said softly, her expression remaining bored. “It was nothing.”
“Belladonna, you need to tell me if something like this is happening,” I hissed at her. No longer did I wish to be blindsided with whatever side activities the people in my life were enjoying in secret.
“And why would I do that, my heart? I don’t want you involved. I want you at Hazel’s. Where it is safe. And where I know if anyone goes down that alley to do anything to you. So I can kill them.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Bella…”
“Fine,” she said with a huff. “The next time I plan to pop someone's head like a grape, I will inform you.”
For once, she sounded actually frustrated. Not with me, but with herself. “Honesty, Belladonna. You want it from me, I want it from you.” It was the foundation in which she had set. The one she had wanted me to follow. And in return, she would give the same.
She looked almost pleased with the statement and as she leaned forward, her eyes were dancing with the lit gems around us. “How I wish I could lick those words right from your mouth,” she told me. “Would you like a reward when we leave tonight? Do you wish for me to take care of you?”
Feebus didn’t allow me to answer as he loudly cleared his throat. “Behave, Bella,” he said. At first, I thought it was in relation to me. But then, I saw Milo heading towards us. Feebus stepped forward almost immediately, clasping Milo’s shoulder in his meaty palm. “My boy,” he boomed loudly. When he leaned forward to give him a hug, I could see him murmur something in Milo’s ear. His face went carefully neutral at whatever Feebus had said, but by the grip of the man's fingers on his shoulders, it didn’t seem he was very happy with his adoptive son.
“Would you like to finish that talk now?” Stepping away from Feebus, Milo didn’t bother to look at Belladonna. Only having eyes for me.
“Milo,’ Belladonna cooed. I could hear the edge to her voice.
“Not allowed to talk to you, Belladonna,” Milo said with a thin smile. “And I’d say I’d see you at the next monthly meeting but we both know I won’t be attending those.”
“No,” she said slowly. “Why would you? It would require you to not be a coward.” Milo’s eyes ticked to her, his smirk becoming something condescending. When Belladonna took another sip of her wine, I could tell she was not done yet. Feebus ignored them both. “I must say, Milo. Now that Malcolm’s back, do you plan on keeping your job for long?”
“Considering I value my life, yes,” he said blandly.
“Malcolm didn’t think it suited you all that well,” she said. “He made mention of you not doing well with responsibility.”
“Then perhaps,” Milo said, matching her tone. “He should have thought about that before taking the risks he did that night. We might all have been a bit happier with him in this position. Although, I must ask, Bella. Are you pissed because I’m now in a position to fuck you over without paying?”
“Oh, Milo,” Belladonna cooed. “I would love to see you try but unfortunately I have a policy about street rats. Unless they are using their tongues to pleasure me, I’d rather just cut them out entirely.”
“Alright you two,” Feebus said. “I have told you both to behave and I’m not repeatin’ myself. Milo, finish up your business. Bella, your wine.”
The two of them stared daggers at each other, both clearly contemplating continuing and adding to the scene. Milo stepped back though, gesturing to her with a small bow. As if to say ‘you won’. Belladonna’s eyes darkened at it, her grip tightening around the stem of her glass. Turning to me, she pulled me close, pressing her blood stained lips to mine. Her scent was suddenly everywhere and I felt nearly woozy with it.
Pulling back, she dragged her thumb across my bottom lip, gathering our combined taste before she sucked the digit into her mouth.
“You have thirty minutes,” she said huskily. “Then I come find you.”
I nodded once, longing to stay in the sweet embrace of her arms, but knowing I would need to follow Milo out into the garden.
[[Next|B End 2]]
Milo led me down a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me to so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They glinted sharply in the pale light. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
“So you and Belladonna, huh? When did she finally admit she had feelings for you?”
“After she killed Kavatti. With her bare hands.”
Taking a drag on the cigarette, he nodded. The ember flame of the slick paper burning bright before dying. “Remind me to thank her for that one. Not a loss I’m really cryin’ over if I’m going to be honest.”
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]
“Self-preservation sounds a bit different for you,” I said. I meant it partially as a joke but was also trying to peer into his reasoning. Gabriel struck me as a man who would fall on his sword if he felt it was for the good of the people.
“I do not necessarily view it as self-preservation in this case,” he said. Though his brows were furrowed and I wondered how he was going to logic out of this. “I simply…” It was frustrating to him. I could see it in the lines of his jaw and the way his boots stomped across the streets.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”
He looked at me sharply. “No. No, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I suppose when I really look at it, I just do not want to see Ms. Albright in jail. She is a good woman and though I do not agree with her use of magic, I do not feel like I could arrest her without harming her further.”
I looked at him with surprise. Not that I didn’t agree with him, I just hadn’t exactly expected that kind of reasoning from him. There were others he had hurt. Others whose lives had been altered because of his arrests. I supposed not even Gabriel was capable of separating out the ones he loved from the justice he served.
When we reached the row of houses that was Gabriel’s, he unlocked the door, gesturing for me to step inside. Small lamps that were placed meticulously around the room flicked on at the entrance, the brown leather of the sofa looking plush and inviting. I was glad he had taken me here as opposed to the office. But as I watched him unsheathe his sword and begin to unbutton his coat, I could tell something was on his mind.
“Did you want to talk?” I broached. His grey eyes flicked up towards mine, hands pausing mid-button.
“You probably have a lot you need to say,” he started slowly. “What was just revealed to you must be weighing heavily.” His words were chosen carefully. They were said with such precision that I felt as if we were navigating ourselves through a fight that I was not even aware of entering.
[[Do you believe that I’m the Night Market]]
[[It’s a lot for me to take in]]
[[You seem upset]]
“The magical treaty you’ve talked about all seems like formality at this point.” I had yet to see it enacted in any sort of way that was truly beneficial to the market. It felt more like a threat used to the unwise. The ones who did have magic, big magic like Hazel’s, were obviously conducting their business in private.
“It is not a formality,” he said, with a somewhat more biting tone than I was prepared for. “The magical treaty within the Night Market is the safety of all who walk these streets. If we allowed all magic to run rampant, against people who had no defenses, it would be chaos. It would invite descent within the market walls. The ones with power would be controlling the ones without and…” he trailed off, his jaw tightening and his boots pounding against the cobblestones.
I observed him with wide eyes, not having known such a comment would trigger the reaction. When he cleared his throat, staring straight ahead, I almost reached out for him. But his body was corded tight and he looked as if touch was the last thing he desired.
“Apologies,” he muttered.
“It’s alright,” I assured. “It’s been a long day.”
When we reached the row of houses that was Gabriel’s, he unlocked the door, gesturing for me to step inside. Small lamps that were placed meticulously around the room flicked on at the entrance, the brown leather of the sofa looking plush and inviting. I was glad he had taken me here as opposed to the office. But as I watched him unsheathe his sword and begin to unbutton his coat, I could tell something was on his mind.
“Did you want to talk?” I broached. His grey eyes flicked up towards mine, hands pausing mid-button.
“You probably have a lot you need to say,” he started slowly. “What was just revealed to you must be weighing heavily.” His words were chosen carefully. They were said with such precision that I felt as if we were navigating ourselves through a fight that I was not even aware of entering.
[[Do you believe that I’m the Night Market]]
[[It’s a lot for me to take in]]
[[You seem upset]]
“Good,” I said. I was truly relieved. I never quite knew what land mine was being stepped on when it came to the rules that the Velvet Guard were supposed to enforce. “Not that I would have let you anyway,” I tried to joke. “I mean, technically the persona of the Night Market overrides the Velvet Guard, right?”
He said nothing to that, his jaw clenched as he stared ahead and continued walking purposefully. I felt something settle awkwardly against me as he didn’t even acknowledge my words.
“It was a joke, Gabriel,” I tried to assure. Again, he said nothing. And the two of us walked to his apartment in silence.
When we reached the row of houses that was Gabriel’s, he unlocked the door, gesturing for me to step inside. Small lamps that were placed meticulously around the room flicked on at the entrance, the brown leather of the sofa looking plush and inviting. I was glad he had taken me here as opposed to the office. But as I watched him unsheathe his sword and begin to unbutton his coat, I could tell something was on his mind.
“Did you want to talk?” I broached. His grey eyes flicked up towards mine, hands pausing mid-button.
“You probably have a lot you need to say,” he started slowly. “What was just revealed to you must be weighing heavily.” His words were chosen carefully. They were said with such precision that I felt as if we were navigating ourselves through a fight that I was not even aware of entering.
[[Do you believe that I’m the Night Market]]
[[It’s a lot for me to take in]]
[[You seem upset]]
“Do you not believe I’m the Night Market?” I asked him cautiously. It wasn’t as if it was something I entirely believed yet either. With the way Gabriel was acting, however, I knew it was due to the news he had received.
“If the three Fates said you were the Night Market, there is nothing to refute that. Their word is far more law than anyone else within these city walls.” Hanging up his jacket, he took extra time to meticulously place it on the front coat wrack, sweeping his hand across it as if to rid the material of dust and debris. When his hand passed over it for the third time, I knew something was wrong.
“Okay,” I started slowly. “Then is there something about me being the Night Market that is bothering you? Your mood has shifted since finding out.”
“My mood has shifted because of the duplicity of Mr. Next and I am now contemplating where to find him and how to drag him to the Baron meetings he has been missing for the last decade.”
“Gabriel,” I started slowly.
“I do not know how I am supposed to protect you.” His voice cut through the room, cutting off whatever I was about to say. I could hear the edge to it. The razor-thin line of panic that threatened to cross him.
“Protect me?”
Turning, I could see the anguish on his face. The way he now looked at me differently. As if I was now something so much bigger. So much more complicated. I was no longer the individual that had fallen to their streets with no memory of who I was, but the very being he had pledged his allegiance to. A duty in which he had been struggling with for quite some time. <<if $pits == "true">> I was the Night Market and he nearly tore me to pieces by dragging me to the flesh pits. Uncaring of his actions and perhaps even dooming us all.<</if>>
“Yes, $name. Protect you. Did you expect me to hear what you were and treat you the same? To just pretend like this doesn’t change everything?”
<<if $pits == "false">>[[Why does it have to change anything?]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>[[Why would anything have to change?]]<</if>>
[[No. I didn’t expect you to look at me the same but we need to talk about it]]
[[Nothing has changed]]
“It is quite a lot to take in. I’m struggling with it myself,” I told him. It would take time for all of us to grow used to the idea that I was the Night Market. It was supposed to be an answering of questions but instead, it only fractured the picture we had been trying to make, spreading it into a sea of other thoughts that all posed their own problem. One of which being, if I was the Night Market, then who exactly brought me here.
“I think we just take some time,” I told him. “I know I want to take some time. None of it seem real and–”
“I do not know how I am supposed to protect you.” His voice cut through the room, cutting off whatever I was about to say. I could hear the edge to it. The razor-thin line of panic that threatened to cross him.
“Protect me?”
Turning, I could see the anguish on his face. The way he now looked at me differently. As if I was now something so much bigger. So much more complicated. I was no longer the individual that had fallen to their streets with no memory of who I was, but the very being he had pledged his allegiance to. A duty in which he had been struggling with for quite some time. <<if $pits == "true">> I was the Night Market and he nearly tore me to pieces by dragging me to the flesh pits. Uncaring of his actions and perhaps even dooming us all.<</if>>
“Yes, $name. Protect you. Did you expect me to hear what you were and treat you the same? To just pretend like this doesn’t change everything?”
<<if $pits == "false">>[[Why does it have to change anything?]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>[[Why would anything have to change?]]<</if>>
[[No. I didn’t expect you to look at me the same but we need to talk about it]]
[[Nothing has changed]]“You seem upset,” I started hesitantly.
“I am not upset,” he said evenly. Hanging up his jacket, he took extra time to meticulously place it on the front coat wrack, sweeping his hand across it as if to rid the material of dust and debris. When his hand passed over it for the third time, I knew something was wrong.
“Gabriel,” I started slowly.
“I do not know how I am supposed to protect you.” His voice cut through the room, cutting off whatever I was about to say. I could hear the edge to it. The razor-thin line of panic that threatened to cross him.
“Protect me?”
Turning, I could see the anguish on his face. The way he now looked at me differently. As if I was now something so much bigger. So much more complicated. I was no longer the individual that had fallen to their streets with no memory of who I was, but the very being he had pledged his allegiance to. A duty in which he had been struggling with for quite some time. <<if $pits == "true">> I was the Night Market and he nearly tore me to pieces by dragging me to the flesh pits. Uncaring of his actions and perhaps even dooming us all.<</if>>
“Yes, $name. Protect you. Did you expect me to hear what you were and treat you the same? To just pretend like this doesn’t change everything?”
<<if $pits == "false">>[[Why does it have to change anything?]]<<elseif $pits == "true">>[[Why would anything have to change?]]<</if>>
[[No. I didn’t expect you to look at me the same but we need to talk about it]]
[[Nothing has changed]]“Why does anything have to change?” I asked, my voice frantic. I didn’t want things to change. I didn’t want the newness to come in and fracture us even further. All I wished for was for Gabriel to take me into his arm tonight and hold me through the worst of the panic that was bound to settle around me as I continued to ruminate on what I was and what it meant. I knew certain things would have to change, but I didn’t wish for us to.
“Because you are the very thing I am bound to police and protect. You are the world in which I keep safe. //Everything// has to change.”
“That doesn’t make sense. No. I may be the Night Market but I am also me. I am also $name. You can’t just get rid of that part of me.”
“It is not getting rid of you,” he said in frustration. I could see the way he flinched. Like the thought itself lashed against him and blinded his view. “That is not the point I am trying to make.”
I frowned, shaking my head slowly. There was too much that could be interpreted by that. There was too much to unpack by that statement alone. “Look, I don’t want things to change, but we can talk about all of that. Together. I just want you by my side in all of this.”
He looked at me sharply. His body went still, a faint glow of silver breathing through the room like a pulse. “Of course I will be by your side. Do you wish me to leave now that you know who you are?”
I frowned. “What? No. Why–?”
“If you wish for this thing between us to go no further that is your decision but I am putting my foot down, $name. You are my responsibility. The Velvet Guard has been sworn to protect you and I will not be letting you down.”
[[Gabriel, take a few deep breaths]]
[[(laugh) Gabriel, would you slow down for a minute?]]
[[I am not asking for us to stop]]
I stared at him evenly. He was nearly vibrating with an unnamed emotion now as he stood across the room, staring at me. “No,” I stated slowly. “I didn’t expect you to look at me the same way. But we do need to talk about this.” The amount of tiring conversations that I knew would have to come were overwhelming in the broadest sense but I couldn’t have any of them if Gabriel was refusing to even explain what he thought about this new bit of information.
“There is nothing to speak of,” he said bitterly. “You are the Night Market. I am the Warden. Our roles have not changed. Just how I engage in those roles will have to be different.”
I frowned, shaking my head slowly. There was too much that could be interpreted by that. There was too much to unpack by that statement alone. “Look, I don’t want things to change but I know that they are going to have to. And in ways, I do think that will be good for you. But we can talk about all of that. Together. I just want you by my side in all of this.”
He looked at me sharply. His body went still, a faint glow of silver breathing through the room like a pulse. “Of course I will be by your side. Do you wish me to leave now that you know who you are?”
I frowned. “What? No. Why–?”
“If you wish for this thing between us to go no further that is your decision but I am putting my foot down, $name. You are my responsibility. The Velvet Guard has been sworn to protect you and I will not be letting you down.”
[[Gabriel, take a few deep breaths]]
[[(laugh) Gabriel, would you slow down for a minute?]]
[[I am not asking for us to stop]]
“Nothing has changed, Gabriel.” I didn’t //want// anything to change. When I had first arrived in the market, this man had calmly sat me down, asking for my papers. He tried to suss out if I was here as friend or foe. <<if $pits == "true">>Then everything had escalated into a terrifying moment that left stains still on my wrists. The threat of being sold to flesh traders loomed at my back and that night ended with a tenuous truce between him and I.<</if>> No one could understand how I had ended up on these streets and as time went on, the mystery barely unfolded. There was a time that I had wanted to peel back the layers of my identity piece by piece. When I had been nearly rabid for it. Now, I only wished that it was nothing more than another minor intake of information. I didn’t want the change that it brought. Not from the world and especially not from him.
“Gabriel, I don’t even know what being the Night Market means. I’m some piece of this entire world. I can tell you that all that feels like right now is some weird truth that I believe but am not sure why.”
“That’s not the point, $name.”
“Then tell me the point, please. I need to understand. I need you to be by my side with all this.”
He looked at me sharply. His body went still, a faint glow of silver breathing through the room like a pulse. “Of course I will be by your side. Do you wish me to leave now that you know who you are?”
I frowned. “What? No. Why–?”
“If you wish for this thing between us to go no further that is your decision but I am putting my foot down, $name. You are my responsibility. The Velvet Guard has been sworn to protect you and I will not be letting you down.”
[[Gabriel, take a few deep breaths]]
[[(laugh) Gabriel, would you slow down for a minute?]]
[[I am not asking for us to stop]]
“That makes no sense, Gabriel. Why would anything have to change? We still have the same beginning together. We are the same people who have struggled to see eye to eye these last few months. Me being the Night Market shouldn’t change any of that.”
“Because you are the very thing I am bound to police and protect. You are the world in which I keep safe. //Everything// has to change.”
“That doesn’t make sense. No. I may be the Night Market but I am also me. I am also $name. You can’t just get rid of that part of me.”
“It is not getting rid of you,” he said in frustration. I could see the way he flinched. Like the thought itself lashed against him and blinded his view. “That is not the point I am trying to make.”
I frowned, shaking my head slowly. There was too much that could be interpreted by that. There was too much to unpack by that statement alone. “Look, I don’t want things to change, but we can talk about all of that. Together. I just want you by my side in all of this.”
He looked at me sharply. His body went still, a faint glow of silver breathing through the room like a pulse. “Of course I will be by your side. Do you wish me to leave now that you know who you are?”
I frowned. “What? No. Why–?”
“If you wish for this thing between us to go no further that is your decision but I am putting my foot down, $name. You are my responsibility. The Velvet Guard has been sworn to protect you and I will not be letting you down.”
[[Gabriel, take a few deep breaths]]
[[(laugh) Gabriel, would you slow down for a minute?]]
[[I am not asking for us to stop]]
“Gabriel,” I said firmly. “I need you to take a few deep breaths.” He was breathing harshly, the panic etching across his veins in stark jolts of light, cracking through his skin and causing old wounds to glow. They were the ones I had seen as he had fallen. The faint glow of grace. The grace he was not supposed to have anymore, aside from the shard that he carried in his pocket and the small bit he kept stored within himself for an emergency. “You are jumping about eight steps ahead of what I was hoping to talk about.”
So much had happened. So much had come into question for him in the last few months. He had been dismantled and was trying to piece himself back together again and yet I didn’t know if Gabriel knew how to do that. Not on his own.
He slumped then. Standing before me, I saw the way his shoulders hunched inwards, and his head hung between his shoulders. The fight was dying and the light that was pinching his skin began to fade away.
“Gabriel, come here,” I said softly. He followed the order, clinging to it. Lowering himself next to me, he put his head in his hands, taking a moment to calm himself. Gently, I placed my hand on his back. “What just happened?”
Slowly, he dragged his hand down his face. “I am being honest, $name. I am unsure of how to protect you. Hearing that you are the Night Market I just–” he turned to me. “Today I heard that you were dying. That’s what I heard when you told me. You are dying and we do not know how to help you. And the man that we have been searching for, to save you, has disappeared.”
[[I’m scared too]]
[[We’ll deal with it. Together]]
[[Maybe I’m not dying. Maybe I’m just protecting]]
There was a soft amount of laughter that escaped my throat as I looked at him. This man, this big man who walked through the market streets with a sword at his hip and a scowl that scared most who crossed his path, was down right panicking. He looked at me now as a broken egg that he alone could only take the pieces of and glue back together.
“Gabriel,” I said, “would you slow down for a minute. You are getting yourself worked up about nothing. I am not leaving you. I am not expecting anything of you. I am not even saying that what you are feeling right now is invalid.”
He slumped then. Standing before me, I saw the way his shoulders hunched inwards, and his head hung between his shoulders. The fight was dying and the light that was pinching his skin began to fade away.
“Gabriel, come here,” I said softly. He followed the order, clinging to it. Lowering himself next to me, he put his head in his hands, taking a moment to calm himself. Gently, I placed my hand on his back. “What just happened?”
Slowly, he dragged his hand down his face. “I am being honest, $name. I am unsure of how to protect you. Hearing that you are the Night Market I just–” he turned to me. “Today I heard that you were dying. That’s what I heard when you told me. You are dying and we do not know how to help you. And the man that we have been searching for, to save you, has disappeared.”
[[I’m scared too]]
[[We’ll deal with it. Together]]
[[Maybe I’m not dying. Maybe I’m just protecting]]
“I am not asking for us to be done,” I told him gently. He was breathing harshly, the panic etching across his veins in stark jolts of light, cracking through his skin and causing old wounds to glow. They were the ones I had seen as he had fallen. The faint glow of grace. The grace he was not supposed to have anymore, aside from the shard that he carried in his pocket and the small bit he kept stored within himself for an emergency.
“Then what are you asking?” he said, still trying to gain control.
“Nothing,” I told him plainly. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”
He slumped then. Standing before me, I saw the way his shoulders hunched inwards, and his head hung between his shoulders. The fight was dying and the light that was pinching his skin began to fade away.
“Gabriel, come here,” I said softly. He followed the order, clinging to it. Lowering himself next to me, he put his head in his hands, taking a moment to calm himself. Gently, I placed my hand on his back. “What just happened?”
Slowly, he dragged his hand down his face. “I am being honest, $name. I am unsure of how to protect you. Hearing that you are the Night Market I just–” he turned to me. “Today I heard that you were dying. That’s what I heard when you told me. You are dying and we do not know how to help you. And the man that we have been searching for, to save you, has disappeared.”
[[I’m scared too]]
[[We’ll deal with it. Together]]
[[Maybe I’m not dying. Maybe I’m just protecting]]
“I’m scared, too,” I told him, my voice cracking at the end. “This entire thing is terrifying. Right now I’m just trying to come to terms with it and yet every time I think I can look at what I am with some amount of reasoning, I remember that I am supposed to be the world around us. It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense. And if I think about it too hard I think I might break apart.”
Gabriel nodded against me, a breath of air puffing out against my shoulder. “I just don’t know how we are supposed to deal with something like this. I do not even know who to ask. But if these gates continue to open like they are, you are not going to be you much longer. And speaking as someone who has gone through a very similar pain of almost losing themselves, I do not wish that for you. Not even in the slightest.”
Sighing, I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around me.
We said nothing then. There was nothing we could say. The problems we were facing were far too big and it would not be answered tonight. It was doubtful it would be answered any time soon. We just had to keep moving forward. Keep hoping something would shake loose a direction or the ability to make a move that wasn’t just us scrambling around in the dark.
“I do not wish to lose you,” he whispered to me.
[[You will not lose me]]
[[I don’t wish to lose you either]]
[[Kiss him|Chapter Twelve G Kiss]]
“We’ll deal with this. Together, okay?” I held him against me, not wanting to let him go. The vibration of his anger had coxed itself into nothing more than a simmer now. Anger that was more based in fear than anything else.
“We do not know how to even deal with this,” Gabriel mumbled. “This is not something people go through. There is no authority we can search for that can give us answers. $name, you are the only one of your kind. Who are we supposed to seek for advice?”
I didn’t know. There was no way to know. There was a certain amount of secrecy that was about to come with my identity. It was not one I could give away and so every conversation with an outsider from henceforth, would be hypothetical at best. How did you go about anything when having to deal in half-truths? Maybe if time was not of the essence, but this felt like a pressing matter that was going to require barreling forward into the unknown.
Gabriel was not going to do well with that.
I was unsure if I would either.
Sighing, I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around me.
We said nothing then. There was nothing we could say. The problems we were facing were far too big and it would not be answered tonight. It was doubtful it would be answered any time soon. We just had to keep moving forward. Keep hoping something would shake loose a direction or the ability to make a move that wasn’t just us scrambling around in the dark.
“I do not wish to lose you,” he whispered to me.
[[You will not lose me]]
[[I don’t wish to lose you either]]
[[Kiss him|Chapter Twelve G Kiss]]
“Maybe we shouldn’t look at it as me dying,” I said softly. “Maybe instead, we should view it for what it is. Protection.”
Whether it was by the Gatekeepers design or my own, gates to different worlds were opening. Lifeforms were being brought within these walls when they did not ask to be, because they were scared and alone and crying out for help. I didn’t know the specifics around any of it other than I knew I was the one who was listening. Perhaps the only one listening.
“The way you are protecting these strangers is tearing you apart,” Gabriel told me, his voice shot through with despair.
“But isn’t that what protectors do?” I asked. Wouldn’t Gabriel lay down his life at any given moment to save someone? When he looked at me with a guilt ridden gaze, I realized though, that no, he had not. Whoever that child was, the one I had seen him speak of in the vision, he had not laid his life down to protect her.
“Perhaps it is,” he said gently. “Perhaps you may just be a better person than I am.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I was glad he had saved himself. That he had not given up his grace that day. If Gabriel had died in the streets for that child, there would have been so many people that would have lacked his help later in life. The good he had done since then far outweighed that moment. But then again, it lent to the idea that even though I was protecting people by opening this world to them, if the world died because of it, then what was it all for.
Sighing, I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around me.
We said nothing then. There was nothing we could say. The problems we were facing were far too big and it would not be answered tonight. It was doubtful it would be answered any time soon. We just had to keep moving forward. Keep hoping something would shake loose a direction or the ability to make a move that wasn’t just us scrambling around in the dark.
“I do not wish to lose you,” he whispered to me.
[[You will not lose me]]
[[I don’t wish to lose you either]]
[[Kiss him|Chapter Twelve G Kiss]]
Pulling back, I cupped his cheek. “You will not lose me,” I told him, ducking my gaze to catch his own. “You have become so important to me, Gabriel. I am not going to let myself be lost when I have finally found something to cling to.”
Pressing his forehead against mine, he nodded, the pressure of his skull painful as he tried to keep me as close as possible. “I will do everything in my power to keep you,” he whispered. “Absolutely everything.”
I could feel the vow within his words. The way they wrapped around me in both promise and in a fearful declaration. I sunk into it though, reveling in the safety of those words, even if just for a moment. Because if anything, it made tonight not feel as terrifying.
“Let’s go lay down,” I suggested to him.
He looked at me then, eyes a bit darker than before. I could see the desire there and the way he wished to please me. “Would you like to lay down,” he asked. “Or would you like to do something more.”
[[Let's just get some sleep tonight]]
[[I'm not actually interested in sex]]
[[Full NSFW scene]]
[[Fade to black|After Sex]]Pulling back, I cupped his cheek. “I don’t wish to lose you either,” I told him, ducking my gaze to catch his own. “You have become so important to me, Gabriel. The idea of you not being here one day hurts. And I know that is what you are dealing with now. I wish I could take that away from you.”
Pressing his forehead against mine, he nodded, the pressure of his skull painful as he tried to keep me as close as possible. “I will do everything in my power to keep you,” he whispered. “Absolutely everything.”
I could feel the vow within his words. The way they wrapped around me in both promise and in a fearful declaration. I sunk into it though, reveling in the safety of those words, even if just for a moment. Because if anything, it made tonight not feel as terrifying.
“Let’s go lay down,” I suggested to him.
He looked at me then, eyes a bit darker than before. I could see the desire there and the way he wished to please me. “Would you like to lay down,” he asked. “Or would you like to do something more?"
[[Let's just get some sleep tonight]]
[[I'm not actually interested in sex]]
[[Full NSFW scene]]
[[Fade to black|After Sex]]Pulling back, I looked at him, those gray eyes filled with fear and pain but also filled with longing. Reaching up, I sunk my fingers into the thick strands of his hair, my thumb catching the side of his cheek in a slow caress. Leaning forward, I placed my lips against his, feeling the achingly sweet and slow response. Gently, we breathed together, lips touching, his hand coming up to place against the beat of my heart. Assuring himself that I was still there.
Hands still on him, I pulled him with me as we lay down on the sofa, spreading my legs for him to settle between them. He braced himself, so as I wouldn’t take all his weight. When he pulled away from me, silver glinting eyes stared down at me. Keeping his eyes locked to mine, he slowly rolled his hips.
I arched up into him at that, feeling the way he began to press against me, keeping eye contact, refusing to look away.
“Gabriel?” I asked, not sure what I was asking for but wanting to hear his name against the heavy pants that began filtering the room.
He leaned down again, taking my lips into his own and sucking at my bottom lip. “Tell me what you want.” It wasn’t a demand that he whispered against me but a silent askance. Permission. He wanted to know what I would give him. What I would allow him to give me.
[[Let's just get some sleep tonight]]
[[I'm not actually interested in sex]]
[[Full NSFW scene]]
[[Fade to black|After Sex]]Cupping his face, I looked up at him. “Not tonight,” I whispered. He was lonely and he was scared and I knew more than anything, he was searching for a way to just keep me close. I could feel it in the beat of his heart and in the way that he clung to me. “Tonight, I think I would just like to go to bed. Lay somewhere soft with you and hold you until morning.”
His body relaxed then. The tension bled from him inch by inch as he ducked his head, taking a deep breath. When he went to move away, I could already see the apology forming on his lips. I grabbed him before he could utter it.
“I am not mad,” I told him firmly. “Far from it. It’s just been a very long day. And Gabriel? If this is to happen between us, I want it to be because we both want it. Not because we are terrified we’ll lose each other if we wait too long.”
Staring down at me, his grey eyes flashed to a dull silver. Gently, he pressed his lips to mine, the hunger from before only a dull roar now. “I would like that, too,” he said against me.
Taking his hand, I maneuvered out from under him, leading him towards the bedroom. It was devoid of anything personal, just like the rest of his place. But the bed was large and covered in the softest satin sheets I had ever seen. Kicking off my shoes, I crawled between the blankets, watching as he dressed down to his shirt and undergarments. When he slipped in behind me, he pulled me close to him, his arm a heavy weight across my belly.
“You are an enigma,” he told me after a moment.
Craning my neck back, I looked at him. “How so?”
Softly, he ran his fingers up under my shirt, callused fingers resting low on my belly. “Because I do not deserve the love you show me every day and yet you still do it. You ask me to be a better man. No one else has asked that of me. Not for a long time. //You// make me want to be better, $name.”
I clasped my hand over his. “You deserve love, Gabriel,” I told him softly. “You’ve just lost your way a bit with what is right and what is wrong.”
He hummed behind me, a slow rumble that I knew I could fall asleep too. “I would like to make you breakfast in the morning,” he whispered.
I smiled against the pillow. “If it gets you to eat, then I would love that.”
Behind me, I felt him sink boneless against my back. Moments later, the room was filled with the gentle sounds of his snoring. His breath puffed against my neck as exhaustion overtook him. Closing my eyes, I smiled. I knew that whatever was to come, I would not change this night for the world.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]We moved our way to the bed. Stopping briefly to wash up in the bathroom, the two of us collapsed among the midnight blue sheets, wrapping around each other as our hearts steadily thrummed beneath our chest. Looping his arm beneath my head, Gabriel stared down at me.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “It is an odd thing to say, I have been told, but I do feel immense gratitude for you in this moment.”
I laughed a little, feeling my body relax for the first time in days.
"Are you sure you don't want to..." I geastured down to him, still unsure why he didn't wish for a release.
"Not tonight," he murmured. "I-- sex is difficult for me for reasons I have yet to go into with you. But I will. Just, not tonight." I nodded, knowing that the revelations of the day were probably enough on their own. We would have time. “It wasn’t too much, was it?” he asked me, the concern evident in his voice.
“No,” I assured him. “It wasn’t what I was expecting but it wasn’t too much. Are you okay?”
He thought about this for a long moment, no doubt remembering the things he had said that led to the two of us naked on that couch. “It will take some time to get used to,” he said slowly. “But I do not regret our time together. If anything,” he pulled me closer. “I only wish I could have more of it.”
I hummed in response, wishing the same. “I think you will have to wait until morning,” I laughed. “Or else I will fall asleep on you.”
Softly, he pressed his lips to mine, brushing his fingers across my brow. “Sleep,” he whispered against my skin. “I’ll be here in the morning.”
I drifted off then, secure in Gabriel’s arms, the feel of his smile strong against my temple.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]
<<set $gabrielsex to "true">>Reality came tumbling back down with his question. All dressed up for a party that threatened to be anything but fun. I stared at him through the mirror for a moment. “Yes,” I answered him. “I don’t understand why Milo did any of what he did. Before, I feel like it was a conversation we could have had. Maybe I could have understood him. But he’s been gone for so long, so much has happened, that the thought of seeing him makes me feel like I’m going to be looking back at a stranger.”
And maybe I was.
Maybe the Milo I thought I knew wasn’t the one I knew at all.
Gabriel hummed in response. “Mr. Next has much he needs to answer to. I would like to go and speak with him myself.”
I laughed a little. “Given that you are clenching your fists at the mere thought of him, I think it might be best you let me take this part on. We need information, Gabriel. Not a brawl.”
“It is not considered a brawl if you are the Warden of the market,” he said. “It is merely considered justice.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to him, running my fingers down the lapel of his suit. “Well, Mr. Justice, do you think you can let me handle this for the evening? I promise you, if he is untoward towards me, I will let you take matters into your own hands.”
“I do appreciate the sentiment,” Ducking his head, he caught my lips against his own. <<if $gabrielsex == "true">> “I cannot stop thinking about the other night,” he growled.
“Would you like a repeat?”
“A repeat and more.”
That, could be arranged. We would go to this ball, we would dance and deal with Milo, and then I had every intention of going back to Gabriel’s.<<elseif $gabrielsex == "false">>I pressed myself tightly against him for a moment before pulling back, making him follow me. A grin was on his lips as I made him work for my lips. I was starting to find the playful side of Gabriel and was enjoying it immensely.<</if>>
“Well then, dear Warden. Let’s get this very awkward and tension filled situation, over and done with. Because there are far better things I would like to be doing with you that do not involve Milo.” When Gabriel held out his arm to me, I took it. Together, we left for the ball at Taliesin Hynsin’s estate. Ready to make Milo Next answer the questions he had so actively run from.
[[To the ball|To the ball G]]
Reality came tumbling back down with his question. All dressed up for a party that threatened to be anything but fun. I stared at him through the mirror for a moment. “I just want to know where we all stand,” I told him. “No,” I answered him. “I’m not so much nervous as I’m wanting to just get this over with. Answers or no answers, at least this part will be done. I don’t want any more dread to be built around this moment.”
Gabriel hummed in response. “Mr. Next has much he needs to answer to. I would like to go and speak with him myself.”
I laughed a little. “Given that you are clenching your fists at the mere thought of him, I think it might be best you let me take this part on. We need information, Gabriel. Not a brawl.”
“It is not considered a brawl if you are the Warden of the market,” he said. “It is merely considered justice.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to him, running my fingers down the lapel of his suit. “Well, Mr. Justice, do you think you can let me handle this for the evening? I promise you, if he is untoward towards me, I will let you take matters into your own hands.”
“I do appreciate the sentiment,” Ducking his head, he caught my lips against his own. <<if $gabrielsex == "true">> “I cannot stop thinking about the other night,” he growled.
“Would you like a repeat?”
“A repeat and more.”
That, could be arranged. We would go to this ball, we would dance and deal with Milo, and then I had every intention of going back to Gabriel’s.<<elseif $gabrielsex == "false">>I pressed myself tightly against him for a moment before pulling back, making him follow me. A grin was on his lips as I made him work for my lips. I was starting to find the playful side of Gabriel and was enjoying it immensely.<</if>>
“Well then, dear Warden. Let’s get this very awkward and tension filled situation, over and done with. Because there are far better things I would like to be doing with you that do not involve Milo.” When Gabriel held out his arm to me, I took it. Together, we left for the ball at Taliesin Hynsin’s estate. Ready to make Milo Next answer the questions he had so actively run from.
[[To the ball|To the ball G]]
Reality came tumbling back down with his question. All dressed up for a party that threatened to be anything but fun. I stared at him through the mirror for a moment. “I just want to know where we all stand,” I told him. “I feel like so much of what we have done as been us fumbling in the dark. I don’t want to do that anymore, Gabriel.”
Gabriel hummed in response. “Mr. Next has much he needs to answer to. I would like to go and speak with him myself.”
I laughed a little. “Given that you are clenching your fists at the mere thought of him, I think it might be best you let me take this part on. We need information, Gabriel. Not a brawl.”
“It is not considered a brawl if you are the Warden of the market,” he said. “It is merely considered justice.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to him, running my fingers down the lapel of his suit. “Well, Mr. Justice, do you think you can let me handle this for the evening? I promise you, if he is untoward towards me, I will let you take matters into your own hands.”
“I do appreciate the sentiment,” Ducking his head, he caught my lips against his own. <<if $gabrielsex == "true">> “I cannot stop thinking about the other night,” he growled.
“Would you like a repeat?”
“A repeat and more.”
That, could be arranged. We would go to this ball, we would dance and deal with Milo, and then I had every intention of going back to Gabriel’s.<<elseif $gabrielsex == "false">>I pressed myself tightly against him for a moment before pulling back, making him follow me. A grin was on his lips as I made him work for my lips. I was starting to find the playful side of Gabriel and was enjoying it immensely.<</if>>
“Well then, dear Warden. Let’s get this very awkward and tension filled situation, over and done with. Because there are far better things I would like to be doing with you that do not involve Milo.” When Gabriel held out his arm to me, I took it. Together, we left for the ball at Taliesin Hynsin’s estate. Ready to make Milo Next answer the questions he had so actively run from.
[[To the ball|To the ball G]]
Taliesin Hynsin’s estate was a sprawling expanse of white and glittering marble set against the backdrop of dripping gemstone trees and polished glass flowerbeds. Standing at the base of the staircase leading up to the brightly lit chateau, I looked around me, trying to take in the splendor of my surroundings. The trees bent like willows, drops of rubies clinging to their limbs before weeping towards blades of emerald cut grass. Large fountains carved from lapis tumbled with a tinkling chime as rose quartz fell into a pool of glittering opal koi. And above it all, hung large lanterns made of moonstone, the likes of which had shards of fire quartz falling like frozen bits of light across a midnight stitched sky.
Slowly, I made my way upwards with Gabriel, the revelry from within already spilling across the entrance as individuals in finely made ballgowns and suits tumbled across the entrance in a mimicry of dance. Their laughter filled the air with song, their masked faces adding to the opulence, and all around me, around the entirety of the estate, not a single bush, a single blade of grass, a single polished bench, was out of place. Baron Hynsin spared no expense when it came to his home, the likes of which sat high upon a moon dusted hill near the outskirts of the market proper.
We passed several people milling out front, most of them with drink in hand and their eyes alight with the wonder that was all around them. I looked at Gabriel out of the corner of my eyes but saw him to be nothing but cool and collected. I wondered if tonight would be any different for him though, as he was attending the ball as opposed to policing it.
Making our way into the ballroom provided us with an environment no less beautiful. A large chandelier was the star of the room, hanging from a vaulted ceiling and twirling with shifting crystals that reflected the twirling gowns and coat tails below.
A bar was off to the far right, the surface a sheet of ice with frozen bursts of obsidian coloring within. Large vases of peacock feathers adorned each end of it while small dripping rosebud candles dotted along the bar itself. The light in here was bright and yet softened at each corner of the room, as if to put a spotlight on the dance floor itself.
I could see Belladonna at the bar. She sat on one of the stools, her legs crossed. She wore a red gown made of the softest flowing material. It looked like blood, arching elegantly down around her hips and thighs. A halter top bandaged her breasts, leaving her stomach bare where a ruby sat against her navel, locked around her waist with a gold chain.
It was the most logical place to approach first. The familiarity of our own group. Gabriel and I made our way to her side, Gabriel taking up position by the bar and signaling towards the bartender.
When Belladonna caught sight of me, she placed her glass down upon the bar. “$name,” she said. “You look positively delicious.” Her eyes raked over me, her tongue gliding across the exposed tips of her fangs. <<if $dress == "bella">>”I just knew that cut would look fabulous on you.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I should have known you picked that out.<<elseif $suit == "bellasuit">>”I just knew that cut would look fabulous on you.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I should have known you picked that out."<</if>>
“And Gabriel,” she said, turning her eyes to the man. “It is nice to finally see you in the singular suit that you own. The one that I had picked out for you years ago and the one that, gasp, you said you threw away.” She leaned towards him, her shoulder brushing against his own. “You must have dug it out of the dumpster. It’s a marvel that it was still there after all these years.”
“Even more amazing,” he said dryly. “Is that we have been standing here for a full minute and you have not mentioned your newfound Baronhood.”
With a snap, Belladonna turned towards me. “$name, did you know I am now a Baron?”
I stared at the two of them with a small smile of amusement on my lips. So different from when I had first met them. Still catty, but now a much more playful tone had entered their banter.
“Would you like a drink, $name?” Gabriel asked, ready to turn to the bartender and order for me.
[[Yes please|Chapter Twelve yes please]]
[[Better not]]
[[If I had my way I would be smashed by now]]
“Gabriel,” I started gently. “I am safe. You are safe.” It was where his fears were rooted. That something would happen that he would not be able to control. Or that he would not be able to protect me. I had to banish that fear as best I could before he saw Milo again because whatever he was about to do, was going to jeopardize any information we were still trying to ring from Milo himself.
“Listen to ?them, son,” Elias aid. “Their voice is calm. Remember to follow the calm.”
I nodded, agreeing with Elias and trying not to examine that too thoroughly. Instead, I kept my eyes on Gabriel, my expression soft as I tried to guide him back to me. When he looked at me, I saw the grace flickering across him in short bursts.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I suggested. He was in no position to disagree.
Looking between me and Elias, Gabriel was aware that the two of us were teaming up. But he nodded all the same.
Elias lead us to a lower tier of the gemstone courtyard, near a set of bushes that served as the walls for the château itself. As the revelry from the ball faded, and we were concealed far more in the dark, Elias sighed. “How long has this been happening, son?”
“I am not your son,” Gabriel gritted out.
I saw the way it wounded Elias and I nearly expected the Baron to throw the fit he had at his own estate that day. But he swallowed it. Whatever emotion he was feeling he swallowed down. “I see a tinge of madness in you, Gabriel. Are you using your grace?”
When Gabriel didn’t answer, I felt my heart begin to race. “Gabriel, are you?” I didn’t know enough about his grace to make an observation for myself one way or another.
The light began to fade from him as he took deep and measured breaths. When his chest all but stilled, he looked back at the two of us with much more measured eyes. “I am alright,” he assured us.
[[You’re not]]
[[If you say you are alright, I will believe you]]
[[Elias, what exactly is happening to him]]
I stepped in front of him, blocking both the ballroom and Elias from sight. I wanted to fill up his vision. Make sure that I was all he was focusing on. “Gabriel, whatever this is, is not helping,” I told him firmly. “You need to calm down.” It was an order. The closest to an order I figured that I could give to the Warden of the market.
And yet, it worked. Because Gabriel worked best with orders. With someone else quieting the chaos.
Glancing at Elias, I frantically looked around. There was still too much. Too many dancers, too many possibilities for Milo to walk out into the courtyard. I didn’t know how long this control would last. “Let’s go for a walk,” I suggested.
“Yes, lovely!” Elias clapped his hands and took point on the matter. Despite the madness that shone through his lavender eyes, concern still deeply hovered.
Looking between me and Elias, Gabriel was aware that the two of us were teaming up. But he nodded all the same.
Elias lead us to a lower tier of the gemstone courtyard, near a set of bushes that served as the walls for the château itself. As the revelry from the ball faded, and we were concealed far more in the dark, Elias sighed. “How long has this been happening, son?”
“I am not your son,” Gabriel gritted out.
I saw the way it wounded Elias and I nearly expected the Baron to throw the fit he had at his own estate that day. But he swallowed it. Whatever emotion he was feeling he swallowed down. “I see a tinge of madness in you, Gabriel. Are you using your grace?”
When Gabriel didn’t answer, I felt my heart begin to race. “Gabriel, are you?” I didn’t know enough about his grace to make an observation for myself one way or another.
The light began to fade from him as he took deep and measured breaths. When his chest all but stilled, he looked back at the two of us with much more measured eyes. “I am alright,” he assured us.
[[You’re not]]
[[If you say you are alright, I will believe you]]
[[Elias, what exactly is happening to him]]
Grabbing his hand, I smiled at him softly, cupping his cheek with my free palm. I tried to not let the confusion seep into my eyes. The panic and the misunderstanding. I acted as if this was normal and silently wondered just when I had been able to start masking so well.
It took a moment for Gabriel’s eyes to lock with mine but when they did, I breathed a soft sigh of relief. “There you are. Do you think you could come for a walk with me?” We needed to get him away from Milo. If there was even the barest hint of the man, I didn’t think I could keep this situation under control.
Looking between me and Elias, Gabriel was aware that the two of us were teaming up. But he nodded all the same.
Elias lead us to a lower tier of the gemstone courtyard, near a set of bushes that served as the walls for the château itself. As the revelry from the ball faded, and we were concealed far more in the dark, Elias sighed. “How long has this been happening, son?”
“I am not your son,” Gabriel gritted out.
I saw the way it wounded Elias and I nearly expected the Baron to throw the fit he had at his own estate that day. But he swallowed it. Whatever emotion he was feeling he swallowed down. “I see a tinge of madness in you, Gabriel. Are you using your grace?”
When Gabriel didn’t answer, I felt my heart begin to race. “Gabriel, are you?” I didn’t know enough about his grace to make an observation for myself one way or another.
The light began to fade from him as he took deep and measured breaths. When his chest all but stilled, he looked back at the two of us with much more measured eyes. “I am alright,” he assured us.
[[You’re not]]
[[If you say you are alright, I will believe you]]
[[Elias, what exactly is happening to him]]
It was a lie. I had not heard Gabriel lie before but this I knew to be one. It fell from his lips in a discordant sound that struck me with a cruel sharp edge. “You’re not,” I said. He was like a different man and I was reeling at how quick he could change. Yet, I had seen a piece of it last night. When he had grown fearful of not being able to protect me. When his emotions were high and he had looked at me with silver eyes and a room that pulsed with a power that I had not recognized.
“How often has this been happening?” I asked. He wouldn’t look at me, though.
“Oh, Gabriel,” Elias breathed. “You are supposed to be channeling through the shard. That was the entire reason we got the shard to begin with.”
The shard.
I had only seen it occasionally. A little worry stone that he often times brought between his fingers to clutch, a soft light glowing between within his palm. He fiddled with it more than anything and I had never known why. But, as of late, I had not seen it. Not as much as I had when I had first met him.
Turning towards Gabriel, I raised a brow. “Are you not using the shard?”
There was a steady beat as the three of us stood there, the drifting sound of music pinging across the gems in the courtyard. Without looking at either of us, Gabriel pushed his hand into his pocket to slowly pull out the little stone in question. It was dull and emitting a dull light. Nothing like the brilliant glow I had seen before.
Elias gasped. “Oh. Oh, Gabriel. Why did you not come to me? Why have you not told anyone?”
“Because it is something I can handle.” Quickly, he curled his fingers around the piece once more, casting a deprecating look towards Elias that had his lip curling back in a sneer.
“The madness will take you,” Elias cried. The Baron did not quiver in the face of the rage that was before him. Instead, he only turned to me with a frantic desperation in his already crazed eyes. I watched as the cosmos swirled within his pupils, turning his gaze watery and smooth as glass. “If he breaks that shard and is forced to use whatever he has left, he will slip. He will not last long. You must keep him from using his powers. Please, I beg of you. I cannot lose him as well.”
As the tears filled Elias’s eyes, the stars within began to wink out. One by one. Little bits of light just vanished forever, and a faint scream echoed somewhere within the market, no more than a whisper that gently caressed my ear. As I saw Elias’s pain and worry consume him, saw the madness ebb closer and closer to the surface, I felt my stomach drop. It was with a sickening realization that I knew why Gabriel was so even keeled. A man who barely raised his voice. Who tried to keep his emotions on lock. Someone who many considered cold.
It was the only thing keeping him sane.
“Gabriel,” Elias all but begged. “Come home with me. I have some experiments. Things that I do…” he was clutching Gabriel’s arm tightly, almost as if he intended to drag him from the party that moment. When Gabriel shook him loose, Elias stumbled backwards into the bushes, nearly falling through.
“I will handle it, Elias,” he snapped.
Elias stared up at him with utter terror. Gabriel's fists were clenched and I watched as he squeezed the shard of grace, no light emanating from beneath the cracks of his fingers.
[[Assure Elias that we will take care of this]]
[[Tell Gabriel he should go with Elias]]
[[Ask Gabriel to calm down]]
It was a lie. I had not heard Gabriel lie before but this I knew to be one. It fell from his lips in a discordant sound that struck me with a cruel sharp edge. But I wanted to give him the chance. I didn’t want to immediately assume he was lying to me. Or, if he was, at least give him the benefit that with some thought, he would change his actions.
“Gabriel, you look upset and I do feel something is going on,” I said slowly. “But, if you say you are alright, I will believe you. I will always believe you.”
He twitched. My words settling against him as if they physically stung. But I didn’t turn away from him. I only watched him as he struggled, wishing to keep up the facade he so clearly could not.
“Use the shard, Gabriel,” Elias encouraged. “Just use the shard until this passes, son.”
The shard.
I had only seen it occasionally. A little worry stone that he often times brought between his fingers to clutch, a soft light glowing between within his palm. He fiddled with it more than anything and I had never known why. But, as of late, I had not seen it. Not as much as I had when I had first met him.
Turning towards Gabriel, I raised a brow. “Are you not using the shard?”
There was a steady beat as the three of us stood there, the drifting sound of music pinging across the gems in the courtyard. Without looking at either of us, Gabriel pushed his hand into his pocket to slowly pull out the little stone in question. It was dull and emitting a dull light. Nothing like the brilliant glow I had seen before.
Elias gasped. “Oh. Oh, Gabriel. Why did you not come to me? Why have you not told anyone?”
“Because it is something I can handle.” Quickly, he curled his fingers around the piece once more, casting a deprecating look towards Elias that had his lip curling back in a sneer.
“The madness will take you,” Elias cried. The Baron did not quiver in the face of the rage that was before him. Instead, he only turned to me with a frantic desperation in his already crazed eyes. I watched as the cosmos swirled within his pupils, turning his gaze watery and smooth as glass. “If he breaks that shard and is forced to use whatever he has left, he will slip. He will not last long. You must keep him from using his powers. Please, I beg of you. I cannot lose him as well.”
As the tears filled Elias’s eyes, the stars within began to wink out. One by one. Little bits of light just vanished forever, and a faint scream echoed somewhere within the market, no more than a whisper that gently caressed my ear. As I saw Elias’s pain and worry consume him, saw the madness ebb closer and closer to the surface, I felt my stomach drop. It was with a sickening realization that I knew why Gabriel was so even keeled. A man who barely raised his voice. Who tried to keep his emotions on lock. Someone who many considered cold.
It was the only thing keeping him sane.
“Gabriel,” Elias all but begged. “Come home with me. I have some experiments. Things that I do…” he was clutching Gabriel’s arm tightly, almost as if he intended to drag him from the party that moment. When Gabriel shook him loose, Elias stumbled backwards into the bushes, nearly falling through.
“I will handle it, Elias,” he snapped.
Elias stared up at him with utter terror. Gabriel's fists were clenched and I watched as he squeezed the shard of grace, no light emanating from beneath the cracks of his fingers.
[[Assure Elias that we will take care of this]]
[[Tell Gabriel he should go with Elias]]
[[Ask Gabriel to calm down]]
It was a lie. I had not heard Gabriel lie before but this I knew to be one. It fell from his lips in a discordant sound that struck me with a cruel sharp edge. Turning towards Elias, I didn’t wait for Gabriel to tell me the truth or to explain to me what he thought was happening to him. If it had anything to do with madness, then I was not going to take the risk.
“What is happening to him?” I asked.
“$name…”
I held up my hand, stopping whatever Gabriel was about to say.
Elias looked at me gratefully. “He only has a small amount of grace in him. It would be what he fell with. That grace does not replenish. We got him more grace a long time ago and he is supposed to be using it when his emotions get the better of him. That way the power draws from the shard. Not him.”
The shard.
I had only seen it occasionally. A little worry stone that he often times brought between his fingers to clutch, a soft light glowing between within his palm. He fiddled with it more than anything and I had never known why. But, as of late, I had not seen it. Not as much as I had when I had first met him.
Turning towards Gabriel, I raised a brow. “Are you not using the shard?”
There was a steady beat as the three of us stood there, the drifting sound of music pinging across the gems in the courtyard. Without looking at either of us, Gabriel pushed his hand into his pocket to slowly pull out the little stone in question. It was dull and emitting a dull light. Nothing like the brilliant glow I had seen before.
Elias gasped. “Oh. Oh, Gabriel. Why did you not come to me? Why have you not told anyone?”
“Because it is something I can handle.” Quickly, he curled his fingers around the piece once more, casting a deprecating look towards Elias that had his lip curling back in a sneer.
“The madness will take you,” Elias cried. The Baron did not quiver in the face of the rage that was before him. Instead, he only turned to me with a frantic desperation in his already crazed eyes. I watched as the cosmos swirled within his pupils, turning his gaze watery and smooth as glass. “If he breaks that shard and is forced to use whatever he has left, he will slip. He will not last long. You must keep him from using his powers. Please, I beg of you. I cannot lose him as well.”
As the tears filled Elias’s eyes, the stars within began to wink out. One by one. Little bits of light just vanished forever, and a faint scream echoed somewhere within the market, no more than a whisper that gently caressed my ear. As I saw Elias’s pain and worry consume him, saw the madness ebb closer and closer to the surface, I felt my stomach drop. It was with a sickening realization that I knew why Gabriel was so even keeled. A man who barely raised his voice. Who tried to keep his emotions on lock. Someone who many considered cold.
It was the only thing keeping him sane.
“Gabriel,” Elias all but begged. “Come home with me. I have some experiments. Things that I do…” he was clutching Gabriel’s arm tightly, almost as if he intended to drag him from the party that moment. When Gabriel shook him loose, Elias stumbled backwards into the bushes, nearly falling through.
“I will handle it, Elias,” he snapped.
Elias stared up at him with utter terror. Gabriel's fists were clenched and I watched as he squeezed the shard of grace, no light emanating from beneath the cracks of his fingers.
[[Assure Elias that we will take care of this]]
[[Tell Gabriel he should go with Elias]]
[[Ask Gabriel to calm down]]
Looking at Elias, I tried to keep both of the men calm. There was a fury in the air. Something that tasted like electricity and shredded glass. I could see the way the two of them were spiraling and I knew I needed to take control of this situation. Now.
“Elias, I will take care of this. Gabriel and I have it under control.”
Elias shook his head, the fine locks of his hair falling out of place. “You won’t,” he moaned. “You can’t. This is what we feared. All those years ago. This is what we knew would happen.” A whimper came from the Baron’s lips then. A low whine that echoed around us.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tried to reason. “Gabriel just needs some time and–”
“Enough,” Gabriel snapped. It whipped around us and cracked across the sky like thunder.
And then the fight left him.
Gabriel looked at me in horror, as if only now coming back to who he was. “$name, I am sorry.”
“It’s okay.” His voice was calmer and whatever beast he had been turning into was quietened at the look he saw on my face.
“I don’t know what came over me.” He struggled for a reasoning and I could see the way his mind began to fall over itself, trying to come up with something that would soften the blow of the moment.
Walking up to him, I placed my arms around him. “It’s okay, Gabriel,” I whispered. “A lot has been happening. We just need to get home.”
“Yes. Yes you are correct.”
“Maybe a short reprieve from work?” I asked him. “A long weekend.”
His laugh was hollow against me. “Yes. Yes. Some time off.” Looking at Elias, he untangled himself from me. There was such sadness in his eyes as he saw the fear within the gaze of the man who raised him. “Elias,” he started. “I didn’t mean…”
“No apologies,” Elias said fiercely. “Isn’t that what Reese used to say? We don’t apologize in this family. We just do better.” Gabriel nodded. “I miss him. He would know how to help you. He always knew how to help you.”
When Gabriel went over and wrapped the shorter man in a hug, I could see it then. The family bond that used to be there. The one that had died so long ago. I didn’t understand it. Reese was alive. He had cooked dinner for us the other night. I… It wasn’t my place. Not yet. And right now, I was far more concerned about Gabriel.
“Elias,” Gabriel said, “go back inside. I will come and see you when I have gathered myself better.”
Looking at me, Elias weighed a heavy look my way. “Take care of him.” His voice was wet and his eyes still filled with such abject concern. But with a flourish, it was all gone and that cracked smile was back in place. Overly bright. Overly keen. I watched with discomfort as Elias sauntered back inside, as if nothing had even happened.
Next to me, Gabriel turned from the sight. I doubted he could stomach it either.
[[Why didn’t you say anything?]]
[[How bad is it?]]
[[How much time do we have?]]
<<if $gbpoly == "true">> [[Does Bella know]]<</if>>
“Gabriel, I think you should go with Elias. If he has something to help you, then we need to be looking into that sooner rather than later.”
“I am not leaving you at this party while Milo Next breathes down our neck. I am fine, $name. Respect that.”
“I cannot respect it when you are so clearly not–”
“Enough,” he snapped. It whipped around us and cracked across the sky like thunder.
And then the fight left him.
Gabriel looked at me in horror, as if only now coming back to who he was. “$name, I am sorry.”
“It’s okay.” His voice was calmer and whatever beast he had been turning into was quietened at the look he saw on my face.
“I don’t know what came over me.” He struggled for a reasoning and I could see the way his mind began to fall over itself, trying to come up with something that would soften the blow of the moment.
Walking up to him, I placed my arms around him. “It’s okay, Gabriel,” I whispered. “A lot has been happening. We just need to get home.”
“Yes. Yes you are correct.”
“Maybe a short reprieve from work?” I asked him. “A long weekend.”
His laugh was hollow against me. “Yes. Yes. Some time off.” Looking at Elias, he untangled himself from me. There was such sadness in his eyes as he saw the fear within the gaze of the man who raised him. “Elias,” he started. “I didn’t mean…”
“No apologies,” Elias said fiercely. “Isn’t that what Reese used to say? We don’t apologize in this family. We just do better.” Gabriel nodded. “I miss him. He would know how to help you. He always knew how to help you.”
When Gabriel went over and wrapped the shorter man in a hug, I could see it then. The family bond that used to be there. The one that had died so long ago. I didn’t understand it. Reese was alive. He had cooked dinner for us the other night. I… It wasn’t my place. Not yet. And right now, I was far more concerned about Gabriel.
“Elias,” Gabriel said, “go back inside. I will come and see you when I have gathered myself better.”
Looking at me, Elias weighed a heavy look my way. “Take care of him.” His voice was wet and his eyes still filled with such abject concern. But with a flourish, it was all gone and that cracked smile was back in place. Overly bright. Overly keen. I watched with discomfort as Elias sauntered back inside, as if nothing had even happened.
Next to me, Gabriel turned from the sight. I doubted he could stomach it either.
[[Why didn’t you say anything?]]
[[How bad is it?]]
[[How much time do we have?]]
<<if $gbpoly == "true">> [[Does Bella know]]<</if>>
“Gabriel, I need you to stay calm. What do you need from me?” If I could just figure that out. Somehow stem the tide of whatever was happening then–
“Nothing,” he snapped. It whipped around us and cracked across the sky like thunder.
And then the fight left him.
Gabriel looked at me in horror, as if only now coming back to who he was. “$name, I am sorry.”
“It’s okay.” His voice was calmer and whatever beast he had been turning into was quietened at the look he saw on my face.
“I don’t know what came over me.” He struggled for a reasoning and I could see the way his mind began to fall over itself, trying to come up with something that would soften the blow of the moment.
Walking up to him, I placed my arms around him. “It’s okay, Gabriel,” I whispered. “A lot has been happening. We just need to get home.”
“Yes. Yes you are correct.”
“Maybe a short reprieve from work?” I asked him. “A long weekend.”
His laugh was hollow against me. “Yes. Yes. Some time off.” Looking at Elias, he untangled himself from me. There was such sadness in his eyes as he saw the fear within the gaze of the man who raised him. “Elias,” he started. “I didn’t mean…”
“No apologies,” Elias said fiercely. “Isn’t that what Reese used to say? We don’t apologize in this family. We just do better.” Gabriel nodded. “I miss him. He would know how to help you. He always knew how to help you.”
When Gabriel went over and wrapped the shorter man in a hug, I could see it then. The family bond that used to be there. The one that had died so long ago. I didn’t understand it. Reese was alive. He had cooked dinner for us the other night. I… It wasn’t my place. Not yet. And right now, I was far more concerned about Gabriel.
“Elias,” Gabriel said, “go back inside. I will come and see you when I have gathered myself better.”
Looking at me, Elias weighed a heavy look my way. “Take care of him.” His voice was wet and his eyes still filled with such abject concern. But with a flourish, it was all gone and that cracked smile was back in place. Overly bright. Overly keen. I watched with discomfort as Elias sauntered back inside, as if nothing had even happened.
Next to me, Gabriel turned from the sight. I doubted he could stomach it either.
[[Why didn’t you say anything?]]
[[How bad is it?]]
[[How much time do we have?]]
<<if $gbpoly == "true">> [[Does Bella know]]<</if>>
The world around us went quiet, still for a prolonged moment as I traced my eyes over him. Cracks and etches to his skin. Little lines that I had barely thought of before, as if they had been faded scars, texturing or even just a trick of the light. They were so much clearer now. The lines of madness drawn across him like a map.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked. After everything that had happened, why had he kept such a secret from me?
“It was not intentional,” he said quietly. “I– the madness is always present. It is always lingering. I did not realize that it was so close to the surface.”
“But the shard,” I said, gesturing towards what he still held. “The shard is dimming.”
“It was concerning, but I didn’t want it to be your concern,” he pleaded with me, his voice a mere whisper.
I opened my mouth, to either beg, scream or cry. To try //anything// just to get him to see reason or to tell me what I needed to do. But before I could say anything, Gabriel’s back straightened as he looked over my shoulder.
“Mr. Next.”
“Yes, Warden Caine,” Milo said with a smirk. “You would arrest me if I were not a Baron. I get it.” The man had a cigarette perched between his lips and his hands in his pockets as he swaggered towards us. Stopping, he took a deep drag, blowing the smoke out in a curling stretch across his face.
Gabriel stepped forward, towering over Milo. “No, Mr. Next. I cannot arrest you. It is within the rules of the Night Market, as I am sure you must know. So I cannot actually toss you in a cell like I wish to.” Gabriel’s voice pitched lower then, as he leaned into Milo’s face, uncaring of the smoke that puffed between them. “What I can do though, if you lay a hand on $name, is make you disappear. I wish for you to remember that now more than ever.”
“A celestial threatening an individual?” Milo asked, still holding onto his grin. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Not a celestial, Mr. Next. A Fallen. There is a difference.” Turning to me, Gabriel leaned forward, placing a kiss on my lips but keeping his eyes locked with Milo the entire time. Giving my hand a squeeze, Gabriel walked back towards the estate and to the party. There was little doubt in my mind he had his eyes on me, however.
“You two are cute,” Milo commented. “I like that he is looking less kicked puppy lately and more, confident sub. Good for him to get out from under Belladonna’s wing.”<<if $gbpoly == "true">> He looked me up and down. “Then again, are you both there now? Why isn’t she out here? She’s far scarier than him.<</if>>
I ignored him. “I take it you have decided that we need to finish our conversation now?”
He nodded. “Would be ideal, yeah. Got some ground to cover and this isn’t going to be a long ball.”
Gesturing, in front of us, I indicated for Milo to lead the way. Because I was not turning my back to him. Not even for a second.
[[Next|G End 2]]
The world around us went quiet, still for a prolonged moment as I traced my eyes over him. Cracks and etches to his skin. Little lines that I had barely thought of before, as if they ha been faded scars are texturing or even just a trick of the light. They were so much clearer now. The lines of madness drawn across him like a map.
“How bad is it?” I asked, my voice numb. There was pain that had always lingered in Gabriel’s eyes but I didn’t think once that it had been from this. Had I yet again been a fool?
“I do not know,” he confessed after several failed attempts. “The madness is something I live with daily. I didn’t realize that…” he trailed off, the weight of his foresight following him down into nothingness.
I opened my mouth, to either beg, scream or cry. To try //anything// just to get him to see reason or to tell me what I needed to do. But before I could say anything, Gabriel’s back straightened as he looked over my shoulder.
“Mr. Next.”
“Yes, Warden Caine,” Milo said with a smirk. “You would arrest me if I were not a Baron. I get it.” The man had a cigarette perched between his lips and his hands in his pockets as he swaggered towards us. Stopping, he took a deep drag, blowing the smoke out in a curling stretch across his face.
Gabriel stepped forward, towering over Milo. “No, Mr. Next. I cannot arrest you. It is within the rules of the Night Market, as I am sure you must know. So I cannot actually toss you in a cell like I wish to.” Gabriel’s voice pitched lower then, as he leaned into Milo’s face, uncaring of the smoke that puffed between them. “What I can do though, if you lay a hand on $name, is make you disappear. I wish for you to remember that now more than ever.”
“A celestial threatening an individual?” Milo asked, still holding onto his grin. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Not a celestial, Mr. Next. A Fallen. There is a difference.” Turning to me, Gabriel leaned forward, placing a kiss on my lips but keeping his eyes locked with Milo the entire time. Giving my hand a squeeze, Gabriel walked back towards the estate and to the party. There was little doubt in my mind he had his eyes on me, however.
“You two are cute,” Milo commented. “I like that he is looking less kicked puppy lately and more, confident sub. Good for him to get out from under Belladonna’s wing.”<<if $gbpoly == "true">> He looked me up and down. “Then again, are you both there now? Why isn’t she out here? She’s far scarier than him.<</if>>
I ignored him. “I take it you have decided that we need to finish our conversation now?”
He nodded. “Would be ideal, yeah. Got some ground to cover and this isn’t going to be a long ball.”
Gesturing, in front of us, I indicated for Milo to lead the way. Because I was not turning my back to him. Not even for a second.
[[Next|G End 2]]
The world around us went quiet, still for a prolonged moment as I traced my eyes over him. Cracks and etches to his skin. Little lines that I had barely thought of before, as if they ha been faded scars are texturing or even just a trick of the light. They were so much clearer now. The lines of madness drawn across him like a map.
“How much time do we have?” I asked numbly.
Gabriel didn’t answer me. Either he didn’t know, or he couldn’t bring himself to tell me. Either way, I felt my world halting for that one second. He was so worried about losing me, about not protecting me, but he was failing to see that someone needed to protect him as well.
I opened my mouth, about to tell him exactly that. To either beg, scream or cry. To try //anything// just to get him to see reason or to tell me what I needed to do. But before I could say anything, Gabriel’s back straightened as he looked over my shoulder.
“Mr. Next.”
“Yes, Warden Caine,” Milo said with a smirk. “You would arrest me if I were not a Baron. I get it.” The man had a cigarette perched between his lips and his hands in his pockets as he swaggered towards us. Stopping, he took a deep drag, blowing the smoke out in a curling stretch across his face.
Gabriel stepped forward, towering over Milo. “No, Mr. Next. I cannot arrest you. It is within the rules of the Night Market, as I am sure you must know. So I cannot actually toss you in a cell like I wish to.” Gabriel’s voice pitched lower then, as he leaned into Milo’s face, uncaring of the smoke that puffed between them. “What I can do though, if you lay a hand on $name, is make you disappear. I wish for you to remember that now more than ever.”
“A celestial threatening an individual?” Milo asked, still holding onto his grin. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Not a celestial, Mr. Next. A Fallen. There is a difference.” Turning to me, Gabriel leaned forward, placing a kiss on my lips but keeping his eyes locked with Milo the entire time. Giving my hand a squeeze, Gabriel walked back towards the estate and to the party. There was little doubt in my mind he had his eyes on me, however.
“You two are cute,” Milo commented. “I like that he is looking less kicked puppy lately and more, confident sub. Good for him to get out from under Belladonna’s wing.”<<if $gbpoly == "true">> He looked me up and down. “Then again, are you both there now? Why isn’t she out here? She’s far scarier than him.<</if>>
I ignored him. “I take it you have decided that we need to finish our conversation now?”
He nodded. “Would be ideal, yeah. Got some ground to cover and this isn’t going to be a long ball.”
Gesturing, in front of us, I indicated for Milo to lead the way. Because I was not turning my back to him. Not even for a second.
[[Next|G End 2]]
The world around us went quiet, still for a prolonged moment as I traced my eyes over him. Cracks and etches to his skin. Little lines that I had barely thought of before, as if they ha been faded scars are texturing or even just a trick of the light. They were so much clearer now. The lines of madness drawn across him like a map.
“Have you told Belladonna, yet?” It wouldn’t have mattered. If he had told her now or months ago, Bella’s response would have been the same. She would have dropped everything to help him. Just as he had rushed into the cathedral that night when Kavatti’s blood had been spilled. The two of them would stop at nothing for each other when it really mattered. But like me, I was almost certain Gabriel had kept this from her as well.
“I did not wish to concern her,” he said. Of course he didn’t. Because if he dared concern her, he knew he would have to face this problem head on.
“We are going to need to tell her,” I stated. Belladonna would know what to do. And if she didn’t know what to do, she would look at the rest of the market and find the person that could help. She would tear apart the walls to keep him safe. To keep me safe.
“Please,” Gabriel said. “I do not wish–” He stopped. Mid-sentence, Gabriel’s back straightened and he looked over my shoulder.
“Mr. Next.”
“Yes, Warden Caine,” Milo said with a smirk. “You would arrest me if I were not a Baron. I get it.” The man had a cigarette perched between his lips and his hands in his pockets as he swaggered towards us. Stopping, he took a deep drag, blowing the smoke out in a curling stretch across his face.
Gabriel stepped forward, towering over Milo. “No, Mr. Next. I cannot arrest you. It is within the rules of the Night Market, as I am sure you must know. So I cannot actually toss you in a cell like I wish to.” Gabriel’s voice pitched lower then, as he leaned into Milo’s face, uncaring of the smoke that puffed between them. “What I can do though, if you lay a hand on $name, is make you disappear. I wish for you to remember that now more than ever.”
“A celestial threatening an individual?” Milo asked, still holding onto his grin. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Not a celestial, Mr. Next. A Fallen. There is a difference.” Turning to me, Gabriel leaned forward, placing a kiss on my lips but keeping his eyes locked with Milo the entire time. Giving my hand a squeeze, Gabriel walked back towards the estate and to the party. There was little doubt in my mind he had his eyes on me, however.
“You two are cute,” Milo commented. “I like that he is looking less kicked puppy lately and more, confident sub. Good for him to get out from under Belladonna’s wing.”<<if $gbpoly == "true">> He looked me up and down. “Then again, are you both there now? Why isn’t she out here? She’s far scarier than him.<</if>>
I ignored him. “I take it you have decided that we need to finish our conversation now?”
He nodded. “Would be ideal, yeah. Got some ground to cover and this isn’t going to be a long ball.”
Gesturing, in front of us, I indicated for Milo to lead the way. Because I was not turning my back to him. Not even for a second.
[[Next|G End 2]]
Milo led me down a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me to so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
“Warden looked a bit worse for wear," Milo commented. "Saw the Dollmaker out here as well. Everything okay with our big guy?"
"Why do you care?" I asked. "You've avoided us for months."
Taking a drag on the cigarette, he nodded. The ember flame of the slick paper burning bright before dying. "I'm just makin' conversation, darlin'. Nothin' more."
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]
“You are a bit too excited over the prospect of your own death,” I told her. The woman looked giddy with the attempt and even Gabriel looked like it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. It gave a nod to the type of threats that they were used to dealing with that this felt more like taking a toy from a child.
“It’s not my own death I am excited over,” Belladonna corrected. “It’s that they tried something new. It didn’t work. But they tried. And at the end of the day, one should always try without the fear of failure.”
I shook my head, hearing the mocking tone behind her words. Not for me, but absolutely for the two that were now running off into the night with a flutter of wings.
“I will be giving you a list of recommendations for guards to hire,” Gabriel said. He was already looking down the alley, sussing out anyone that maybe lurking. “May I suggest you stay away from vampires.”
“You can suggest it, but it does not mean I will be doing such.”
I watched the two of them. Unlike before, a comment like that would have received a snarl from Gabriel. The entire offer of help wouldn’t have been suggested to begin with. Not from Gabriel at least. Now, Gabriel looked as if he was going to be sending several non vampire guards Belladonna’s way just to see who would stick. I had a feeling, that unless they were absolutely impeccable, Belladonna would send most of them back to him with their proverbial tail between their legs.
“Come along,” Belladonna said. “I do not want to be away from the cathedral for long.”
The cathedral. There was a part of me that hated that place. The smell of blood and the carnage was still fresh in my mind as I followed after them. I of course had not been there since Kavatti’s blood painted the floor but between that, and then seeing Hazel that night, bloody and crying, the idea of going back to the cathedral was just not a fond one. While the sound of dissatisfaction I made was barely audible, Belladonna stopped and looked at me all the same.
“Actually, Gabriel, do you think the two of you could come with me back to my place? There is a security issue I would love for you to look at, and dear heart has not properly been within my sanctuary.”
Gabriel only nodded and the three of us began heading down the alley. They alley that was devoid of spirits now, silent as a graveyard. I kept my head down as we walked, trusting that the two of them would lead me to safety. My head felt as if it were spinning with all that was happening still and I kept having the inane thought that I was walking across my own bones. I wondered if I stomped hard enough, if I would be able to feel it.
The alleys felt far more winding than they had before, filled with people whose faces now seemed far too important. Who had thoughts and opinions that I was supposed to house. It was maddening in a way and yet nothing about me had changed. How could I be something so important and yet be nothing at all?
I smelled the scent of burnt sugar long before I lifted my head. The Pleasure District. It was strange really. This was one of the first places I had gone to when I had set foot in the Night Market. After I had gotten to the safety of Hazel’s. I had come to these streets and was thrown within a cell by a man with a dispassionate gaze. The very man who hadn’t cared who I was and yet now walked by my side.
Then, I was told to come here. To see council with the eyes and ears of the market and plead with her for any ounce of help. Perhaps she would be the one to know who I was. Why I was dropped upon these streets. It felt odd to know she was on my other side now, the two pillars of my beginning, flanking me as we stepped lightly through the endless night.
Sidestepping the decadence of the main area, navigating ourselves around bodies laid in repose and soft moans that were uttered from the shadowed corners, we found ourselves around back. To the quieter portion of the district that Belladonna inhabited. It looked the same. The wrought iron table still set for tea. The bubbling hot spring in the corner releasing steamed perfume. Though this time, Belladonna walked past it all. Heading straight to a hidden door.
The room itself was dark stone with arching false windows that looked out onto a starry night. Singular lanterns hung in the apex of each, a soft purple glow falling from them. The room was heated, a large hearth on the back wall, surrounded by velvet cushions and gold lined chairs. And each wall, from floor to ceiling, was lined with books. It was then I realized this was Belladonna’s personal room. Not the one that she showed people out from.
[[This is nice]]
[[Ask Gabriel if he knew about this room]]
[[What, no coffin?]]
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I took in a deep breath. “Please get the security detail sooner rather than later,” I told her. Belladonna was absolutely the kind of woman who would put something like that off. Not because she wasn’t concerned but because she was far more curious what an attempt on a Baron’s life looked like. It was information that she could use and then sell. Despite now becoming the Baron of the Mists, I had a feeling that Belladonna was going to be walking the line of an information broker than someone who lorded over the vampires.
“I will be giving you a list of recommendations for guards to hire,” Gabriel said. He was already looking down the alley, sussing out anyone that maybe lurking. “May I suggest you stay away from vampires.”
“You can suggest it, but it does not mean I will be doing such.”
I watched the two of them. Unlike before, a comment like that would have received a snarl from Gabriel. The entire offer of help wouldn’t have been suggested to begin with. Not from Gabriel at least. Now, Gabriel looked as if he was going to be sending several non vampire guards Belladonna’s way just to see who would stick. I had a feeling, that unless they were absolutely impeccable, Belladonna would send most of them back to him with their proverbial tail between their legs.
“Come along,” Belladonna said. “I do not want to be away from the cathedral for long.”
The cathedral. There was a part of me that hated that place. The smell of blood and the carnage was still fresh in my mind as I followed after them. I of course had not been there since Kavatti’s blood painted the floor but between that, and then seeing Hazel that night, bloody and crying, the idea of going back to the cathedral was just not a fond one. While the sound of dissatisfaction I made was barely audible, Belladonna stopped and looked at me all the same.
“Actually, Gabriel, do you think the two of you could come with me back to my place? There is a security issue I would love for you to look at, and dear heart has not properly been within my sanctuary.”
Gabriel only nodded and the three of us began heading down the alley. They alley that was devoid of spirits now, silent as a graveyard. I kept my head down as we walked, trusting that the two of them would lead me to safety. My head felt as if it were spinning with all that was happening still and I kept having the inane thought that I was walking across my own bones. I wondered if I stomped hard enough, if I would be able to feel it.
The alleys felt far more winding than they had before, filled with people whose faces now seemed far too important. Who had thoughts and opinions that I was supposed to house. It was maddening in a way and yet nothing about me had changed. How could I be something so important and yet be nothing at all?
I smelled the scent of burnt sugar long before I lifted my head. The Pleasure District. It was strange really. This was one of the first places I had gone to when I had set foot in the Night Market. After I had gotten to the safety of Hazel’s. I had come to these streets and was thrown within a cell by a man with a dispassionate gaze. The very man who hadn’t cared who I was and yet now walked by my side.
Then, I was told to come here. To see council with the eyes and ears of the market and plead with her for any ounce of help. Perhaps she would be the one to know who I was. Why I was dropped upon these streets. It felt odd to know she was on my other side now, the two pillars of my beginning, flanking me as we stepped lightly through the endless night.
Sidestepping the decadence of the main area, navigating ourselves around bodies laid in repose and soft moans that were uttered from the shadowed corners, we found ourselves around back. To the quieter portion of the district that Belladonna inhabited. It looked the same. The wrought iron table still set for tea. The bubbling hot spring in the corner releasing steamed perfume. Though this time, Belladonna walked past it all. Heading straight to a hidden door.
The room itself was dark stone with arching false windows that looked out onto a starry night. Singular lanterns hung in the apex of each, a soft purple glow falling from them. The room was heated, a large hearth on the back wall, surrounded by velvet cushions and gold lined chairs. And each wall, from floor to ceiling, was lined with books. It was then I realized this was Belladonna’s personal room. Not the one that she showed people out from.
[[This is nice]]
[[Ask Gabriel if he knew about this room]]
[[What, no coffin?]]
“Only that you’re in far more danger than you were before,” I pointed out to her, my voice slightly high-pitched.
“Equal danger,” she corrected. “Baron or no Baron, I was still a thorn in a lot of self entitled sides. I assure you this is not the first or the last time someone has plotted my demise.”
Belladonna was looking at me, clearly not seeing the problem. For her, perhaps there wasn’t one. For me, on the other hand, it was different. I was going to need to harden my heart a bit if this was a typical outing with her now.
“It’s just going to take some time to get used to this,” I told her with a sigh.
“I will be giving you a list of recommendations for guards to hire,” Gabriel said. He was already looking down the alley, sussing out anyone that maybe lurking. “May I suggest you stay away from vampires.”
“You can suggest it, but it does not mean I will be doing such.”
I watched the two of them. Unlike before, a comment like that would have received a snarl from Gabriel. The entire offer of help wouldn’t have been suggested to begin with. Not from Gabriel at least. Now, Gabriel looked as if he was going to be sending several non vampire guards Belladonna’s way just to see who would stick. I had a feeling, that unless they were absolutely impeccable, Belladonna would send most of them back to him with their proverbial tail between their legs.
“Come along,” Belladonna said. “I do not want to be away from the cathedral for long.”
The cathedral. There was a part of me that hated that place. The smell of blood and the carnage was still fresh in my mind as I followed after them. I of course had not been there since Kavatti’s blood painted the floor but between that, and then seeing Hazel that night, bloody and crying, the idea of going back to the cathedral was just not a fond one. While the sound of dissatisfaction I made was barely audible, Belladonna stopped and looked at me all the same.
“Actually, Gabriel, do you think the two of you could come with me back to my place? There is a security issue I would love for you to look at, and dear heart has not properly been within my sanctuary.”
Gabriel only nodded and the three of us began heading down the alley. They alley that was devoid of spirits now, silent as a graveyard. I kept my head down as we walked, trusting that the two of them would lead me to safety. My head felt as if it were spinning with all that was happening still and I kept having the inane thought that I was walking across my own bones. I wondered if I stomped hard enough, if I would be able to feel it.
The alleys felt far more winding than they had before, filled with people whose faces now seemed far too important. Who had thoughts and opinions that I was supposed to house. It was maddening in a way and yet nothing about me had changed. How could I be something so important and yet be nothing at all?
I smelled the scent of burnt sugar long before I lifted my head. The Pleasure District. It was strange really. This was one of the first places I had gone to when I had set foot in the Night Market. After I had gotten to the safety of Hazel’s. I had come to these streets and was thrown within a cell by a man with a dispassionate gaze. The very man who hadn’t cared who I was and yet now walked by my side.
Then, I was told to come here. To see council with the eyes and ears of the market and plead with her for any ounce of help. Perhaps she would be the one to know who I was. Why I was dropped upon these streets. It felt odd to know she was on my other side now, the two pillars of my beginning, flanking me as we stepped lightly through the endless night.
Sidestepping the decadence of the main area, navigating ourselves around bodies laid in repose and soft moans that were uttered from the shadowed corners, we found ourselves around back. To the quieter portion of the district that Belladonna inhabited. It looked the same. The wrought iron table still set for tea. The bubbling hot spring in the corner releasing steamed perfume. Though this time, Belladonna walked past it all. Heading straight to a hidden door.
The room itself was dark stone with arching false windows that looked out onto a starry night. Singular lanterns hung in the apex of each, a soft purple glow falling from them. The room was heated, a large hearth on the back wall, surrounded by velvet cushions and gold lined chairs. And each wall, from floor to ceiling, was lined with books. It was then I realized this was Belladonna’s personal room. Not the one that she showed people out from.
[[This is nice]]
[[Ask Gabriel if he knew about this room]]
[[What, no coffin?]]
“This is nice. And far more you.” The sitting room that I had been in before was designed for others. Soft lighting, plush seating. This, however, was ornate lines and the smell of parchment. Dark cushions and velvet lined pillows. This was far more the den that I imagined Belladonna lying in at night.
Kicking off her heals, Belladonna sat down on one of the largest settees I had ever seen, curling her feet under her and resting one arm across the back. “$name,” she said. “Come and sit.”
I did so without question. I didn’t think many really questioned Belladonna and it seemed like the ones who did got their throat ripped out. Or at least was threatened with it. I was trying very hard to decide if that was a turn on for me or not.
As I sat, Gabriel went to the fireplace, piling on more logs and setting the room in a warm crackling blaze of the faintest metallic red. I noticed that the tips of the flame shone silver like a knifes edge. I wonder if they would cut. If they were sharp as well as hot.
“I owe you an apology.” Belladonna’s words made me whip around, my eyes bright as I stared at her. “I think perhaps, Malcolm was right. We have not treated you with your best interest at heart. Any of us.” She ticked her eyes towards Gabriel, clearly letting him know that he was included in on this little bit of conversation.
[[A lot was going on. I don’t blame any of you]]
[[No. It was clear you guys had your own goals in mind]]
[[Are you only saying this because I’m the Night Market?]]
With a double take around the room, I looked back towards Gabriel as he shut the door and pressed a small indent within the wall, locking the door. “Did you know this was here?” I asked.
He nodded. “I was her personal guard for years. I made sure the security within these walls was far above any others.”
“We had to hire several contractors. All of whom only were allowed to do a small piece of the job to ensure that not even they knew how to get into this room.”
Looking at it now, it looked like the remnants of the one I had seen in the memories Malcolm and I had traversed. The walls themselves were the same but the room was darker and the fireplace was deep and blazing.
Kicking off her heals, Belladonna sat down on one of the largest settees I had ever seen, curling her feet under her and resting one arm across the back. “$name,” she said. “Come and sit.”
I did so without question. I didn’t think many really questioned Belladonna and it seemed like the ones who did got their throat ripped out. Or at least was threatened with it. I was trying very hard to decide if that was a turn on for me or not.
As I sat, Gabriel went to the fireplace, piling on more logs and setting the room in a warm crackling blaze of the faintest metallic red. I noticed that the tips of the flame shone silver like a knifes edge. I wonder if they would cut. If they were sharp as well as hot.
“I owe you an apology.” Belladonna’s words made me whip around, my eyes bright as I stared at her. “I think perhaps, Malcolm was right. We have not treated you with your best interest at heart. Any of us.” She ticked her eyes towards Gabriel, clearly letting him know that he was included in on this little bit of conversation.
[[A lot was going on. I don’t blame any of you]]
[[No. It was clear you guys had your own goals in mind]]
[[Are you only saying this because I’m the Night Market?]]
“What?” I tried to joke. “No coffin?”
“The coffin is saved for the pointless drivels that are kept inside pieces of parchment and terrible binding.”
Gabriel leaned close to my side, his voice deep and relaxed. “She does not like vampire mythology.”
“It is not mythology, Gabriel. It is poorly written erotica.”
Kicking off her heals, Belladonna sat down on one of the largest settees I had ever seen, curling her feet under her and resting one arm across the back. “$name,” she said. “Come and sit.”
I did so without question. I didn’t think many really questioned Belladonna and it seemed like the ones who did got their throat ripped out. Or at least was threatened with it. I was trying very hard to decide if that was a turn on for me or not.
As I sat, Gabriel went to the fireplace, piling on more logs and setting the room in a warm crackling blaze of the faintest metallic red. I noticed that the tips of the flame shone silver like a knifes edge. I wonder if they would cut. If they were sharp as well as hot.
“I owe you an apology.” Belladonna’s words made me whip around, my eyes bright as I stared at her. “I think perhaps, Malcolm was right. We have not treated you with your best interest at heart. Any of us.” She ticked her eyes towards Gabriel, clearly letting him know that he was included in on this little bit of conversation.
[[A lot was going on. I don’t blame any of you]]
[[No. It was clear you guys had your own goals in mind]]
[[Are you only saying this because I’m the Night Market?]]
“A lot has been going on,” I said. “I don’t blame you. Any of you, really.” From the second I had stepped foot within the market it had been a whirlwind that I had yet to catch my breath from. I was not the only one who had been caught up in the chaos and while it would have been so easy to blame them for not taking more notice of me, these were all individuals who had a life outside of me. Before me. And, if I ended up having to go, they would be people who would live long past my time here.
I flinched at my own thoughts. Or perhaps not. Not if the market itself folded.
“We asked a lot of you,” she said. “And I believe we asked it because we felt a certain sense of familiarity with you. You are our home. You have been the one to invite each of us in when we may not have survived another day. $name, look at me.”
Slowly, I raised my head. Her eyes were softer here. A dim gold that that reflected the fire light. The human girl that I briefly had seen, looked as if she were peeking out at me.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
[[You don’t need to thank me]]
[[Please don’t thank me. All this feels really weird already]]
[[I just want to be able to protect people]]
“No. It was clear from the beginning that you all had your own goals in mind.” Yet they tried to make it about the world. About saving what they hadn’t known was me yet. But in the end, Belladonna had wanted her Baronhood. Gabriel wanted control and order. Hazel had wanted her brother. And Milo? Well, I guess Milo had wanted his secrets.
“My goal was to protect the market and to stop the gates from opening,” Gabriel said evenly.
“And before you knew I was the Night Market, it was at my expense. Meeting with the Barons, finding the Gatekeeper, it was never about me. Who I was. Where I came from. It just so happened that it turned full circle now.”
“You are right,” Belladonna said. “And it’s insulting to try and say that you are not. We asked a lot of you. And I believe we asked it because we felt a certain sense of familiarity with you. You are our home. You have been the one to invite each of us in when we may not have survived another day. $name, look at me.”
Slowly, I raised my head. Her eyes were softer here. A dim gold that that reflected the fire light. The human girl that I briefly had seen, looked as if she were peeking out at me.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
[[You don’t need to thank me]]
[[Please don’t thank me. All this feels really weird already]]
[[I just want to be able to protect people]]
“The only reason you are saying this is that you’ve found out I’m the Night Market,” I said, a touch of bitterness lacing my words. If I had still been me, still been $name, would she have even invited me into this inner sanctum? Or would she have continued to focus on her new Baronhood, using me when convenient and dropping in when the meetings called for her to. And Gabriel. Well, Gabriel hadn’t even said a thing about it. Not really.
“Perhaps,” Belladonna admitted. “I am unsure if this revelation has changed anything for me though. What I do know, however, is that we asked a lot of you. And I believe we asked it of you due to the familiarity we felt with you. You are our home. You have been the one to invite each of us in when we may not have survived another day. $name, look at me.”
Slowly, I raised my head. Her eyes were softer here. A dim gold that that reflected the fire light. The human girl that I briefly had seen, looked as if she were peeking out at me.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
[[You don’t need to thank me]]
[[Please don’t thank me. All this feels really weird already]]
[[I just want to be able to protect people]]
“You don’t need to thank me,” I told her. I didn’t feel as if I had done anything that anyone else wouldn’t have done in my position. But the fact that Belladonna was even thanking me at all was something to take notice of. I had seen her. The young woman that she had been, racing through the market streets, lost and alone. I had seen the two of them, in this very room, taking care of each other, letting the armor they wore out in the world rest at the door.
Looking towards Gabriel, I watched him observe the two of us, an intensity in his eyes that burned. I remember the raw anguish on his face as he had fallen, scrambling in the wet sand, naked and screaming into the ocean air around him. No one had listened.
I wanted to listen.
Swallowing thickly, I sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t need gratitude,” I started slowly. “I just need your support.”
Belladonna laughed a little, truly surprised. “My heart,” she murmured, “you have had it far longer than I have felt comfortable with. At least now I know why.” The familiarity she had spoken of. Belladonna had always believed in the sentience of the Night Market. She had just not known she was walking by their side.
“Are you doing it on purpose?” Gabriel asked curiously. I startled at the seemingly odd question. Even Belladonna was looking at him with a tilt of her head. There was a tinge of something in his voice that I couldn’t quite pin. Like a low boil of accusation that he was trying to keep from rising to the surface. “The gates. Are you opening them on purpose?”
[[I have no idea how I’m doing it]]
[[No, but I don’t think I’d stop even if I knew how]]
[[No, and I need to learn how to stop this]]
“Please don’t thank me,” I said quickly. The fact that Belladonna was even thanking me to begin with made me feel nervous. As if it were a sign to the end. But, I had seen her. The young woman that she had been, racing through the market streets, lost and alone. I had seen the two of them, in this very room, taking care of each other, letting the armor they wore out in the world rest at the door.
Looking towards Gabriel, I watched him observe the two of us, an intensity in his eyes that burned. I remember the raw anguish on his face as he had fallen, scrambling in the wet sand, naked and screaming into the ocean air around him. No one had listened.
I wanted to listen.
Swallowing thickly, I sucked in a deep breath. “Just don’t,” I said softly. “This is already weird enough.”
“Oh, my gentle heart,” Belladonna said with a sigh. “We are going to have to work on that confidence of yours.”
“Are you doing it on purpose?” Gabriel asked curiously. I startled at the seemingly odd question. Even Belladonna was looking at him with a tilt of her head. There was a tinge of something in his voice that I couldn’t quite pin. Like a low boil of accusation that he was trying to keep from rising to the surface. “The gates. Are you opening them on purpose?”
[[I have no idea how I’m doing it]]
[[No, but I don’t think I’d stop even if I knew how]]
[[No, and I need to learn how to stop this]]
I felt my throat close at her words and a stinging sensation burn my eyes. Belladonna Malady was thanking me. And while I wanted to ask for what, I knew. I had seen her. The young woman that she had been, racing through the market streets, lost and alone. I had seen the two of them, in this very room, taking care of each other, letting the armor they wore out in the world rest at the door.
Looking towards Gabriel, I watched him observe the two of us, an intensity in his eyes that burned. I remember the raw anguish on his face as he had fallen, scrambling in the wet sand, naked and screaming into the ocean air around him. No one had listened.
I wanted to listen.
Swallowing thickly, I sucked in a deep breath. “I just want to be able to protect people,” I said softly.
“I’d say you are succeeding, dear heart. At a detriment to yourself.”
The world was tearing apart because I wanted to save people. Because when individuals cried out for help, I was trying my hardest to take lead them towards safety.
“Are you doing it on purpose?” Gabriel asked curiously. There was a tinge of something in his voice that I couldn’t quite pin. Like a low boil of accusation that he was trying to keep from rising to the surface.
[[I have no idea how I’m doing it]]
[[No, but I don’t think I’d stop even if I knew how]]
[[No, and I need to learn how to stop this]]
“I have no idea how I’m doing any of it,” I told him. “How would I even begin to find out, Gabriel? I didn’t even know who I was up until a day ago.”
“Surely you must have some inclination,” he said in frustration. “Perhaps something you thought nothing of before but now can see that it is in direct correlation.”
“I would tell you if I did.” That was not a secret I would be keeping from any of them. The gates opening was tearing me to shreds. Keeping anything that might help that was a detriment to myself first and to everyone that lived with in the market second.
Gabriel didn’t say anything to that. Not for a long moment. I could see everything turning in his mind. The way he had fallen to the beach not far from here and how he had begged in a voice that was not his own, just to go home. I didn’t know if there were other places he could fall. I knew very little about the Knowing or what it entailed, but I did know that from that moment, I had only wanted to protect him. It was a sentiment that Gabriel hated, however. Never wanting anyone else to put themselves in harms way for him.
“I think this will be an ongoing discussion,” Belladonna said firmly. “I do not think it is one that any of us are able to properly understand at this moment. While Gabriel and I are both beings of supernatural nature, our minds still conform to what we can see. I have always believed the Night Market to be sentient. Though, I do not even think I could have predicted it would arrive in the form you have taken.”
[[I’ll let you know if I figure out how to change]]
[[I arrived rather unremarkable]]
[[Maybe that’s the point]]
I shook my head. “No. Up until a day ago I didn’t even know I was the Night Market. How could I do any of it on purpose?” It was all so confusing. A part of a whole. There was an entire different part of me that was making decisions without my knowledge. I felt as if my body was out of control. And yet… “I can tell you, though, if I did know how I was doing all this, I don’t think I would stop.”
Gabriel frowned at that, clearly not happy with my answer. “How can you say that? You are dying.”
“And look how many would have died without my help. You wouldn’t have had a place to fall, Gabriel. Belladonna would have burned in her world.” I could remember them both. The fear. The heartache. Belladonna crying at the parents that would not listen and Gabriel in agony over the protective embrace that had cast them aside. I had not only seen the memory but had felt it. It now lodged itself inside of me like a dull ache. A knife that was wedged beneath my heart. “You ask how I can say such a thing, but how can you? You may not have been here without me.”
Gabriel didn’t say anything to that. Not for a long moment. I could see everything turning in his mind. The way he had fallen to the beach not far from here and how he had begged in a voice that was not his own, just to go home. I didn’t know if there were other places he could fall. I knew very little about the Knowing or what it entailed, but I did know that from that moment, I had only wanted to protect him. It was a sentiment that Gabriel hated, however. Never wanting anyone else to put themselves in harms way for him.
“I think this will be an ongoing discussion,” Belladonna said firmly. “I do not think it is one that any of us are able to properly understand at this moment. While Gabriel and I are both beings of supernatural nature, our minds still conform to what we can see. I have always believed the Night Market to be sentient. Though, I do not even think I could have predicted it would arrive in the form you have taken.”
[[I’ll let you know if I figure out how to change]]
[[I arrived rather unremarkable]]
[[Maybe that’s the point]]
“No,” I said firmly. “But I can tell you that I need to learn how to stop this and that is what I will be directing my energy towards. I can’t just keep sitting idly back while some higher conscience of mine is calling all the shots.”
Belladonna sat up a little straighter at that. “I do wonder if the two forms have any sort of contact with themselves. If not, it may account to much of your confusion.”
“That is not the point, Belladonna,” Gabriel said. “If these gates continue to open, the Night Market, //$name//, will not exist for much longer.
His words snapped through the room in a bitter resentment. His anger looking for a place to land. “Which is why I will be learning how to stop this, Gabriel,” I said gently. “I do not want to continue on like this.”
Gabriel didn’t say anything to that. Not for a long moment. I could see everything turning in his mind. The way he had fallen to the beach not far from here and how he had begged in a voice that was not his own, just to go home. I didn’t know if there were other places he could fall. I knew very little about the Knowing or what it entailed, but I did know that from that moment, I had only wanted to protect him. It was a sentiment that Gabriel hated, however. Never wanting anyone else to put themselves in harms way for him.
“I think this will be an ongoing discussion,” Belladonna said firmly. “I do not think it is one that any of us are able to properly understand at this moment. While Gabriel and I are both beings of supernatural nature, our minds still conform to what we can see. I have always believed the Night Market to be sentient. Though, I do not even think I could have predicted it would arrive in the form you have taken.”
[[I’ll let you know if I figure out how to change]]
[[I arrived rather unremarkable]]
[[Maybe that’s the point]]
“I’ll let you know if I figure out how to change my form,” I told Belladonna. I was only half joking. There was a small part of me that was a bit curious if there would come a time when I could make myself taller or shorter. Give myself horns or a tail. To finally be taller than Belladonna with her spiked heals would be a rather funny situation.
“Oh, but I rather like you how you are,” Belladonna said. “Don’t you agree, Gabriel?”
He was by the fireside, still not looking at us as he tossed more wood into the flames. “I am glad the two of you are finding this rather amusing. It changes nothing however and I will be getting a guard detail on you, $name, just as I will be with Belladonna.”
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>I raised a brow towards him. “You are going to have the Velvet Guard, an already understaffed organization, watch someone who looks to the rest of the world like Hazel’s helper? That’s going to raise suspicion, Gabriel.”<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>I raised a brow towards him. “You are going to have the Velvet Guard, an already understaffed organization, watch someone who looks to the rest of the world like your lacky? That’s going to raise suspicion, Gabriel.”<</if>>
“Well, I do not know what else to do,” he snapped.
It lashed through the room in a bolt of anger that was accompanied by a loud pop from the fire. Belladonna did not move, looking between the two of us, waiting to see how I would handle it. I could see the way Gabriel’s fists clenched at his side. How the line of his jaw tightened.
He was scared.
[[It is not solely your job to protect me]]
[[We are in all this together]]
[[Get up and go to him]]
“I did arrive here rather unremarkable,” I said. It was strange to think about really. In a nexus point of all realities and I had arrived humanoid. No horns. No tail. No blue tinted skin or scales. It seemed odd in a world where you could be anything, I was non descript.
Belladonna tipped her head to the side, looking me up and down. “Perhaps that was the point. You don’t exactly need to be on anyone's radar now, do you. We needed to keep you protected and you also needed to protect yourself.”
There was a certain amount of truth to her statement, though I was still unsure about how much involvement I really had in my place among these streets.
“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel said, tossing more wood into the fire. “These types of hypothetical discussions will do us no good.”
“And what would serve us as good, Gabriel?” Belladonna mused.
He looked like he was not wishing to play whatever game she was baiting him with. “I will be getting a guard detail on you tomorrow, $name. As well as Belladonna.”
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>I raised a brow towards him. “You are going to have the Velvet Guard, an already understaffed organization, watch someone who looks to the rest of the world like Hazel’s helper? That’s going to raise suspicion, Gabriel.”<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>I raised a brow towards him. “You are going to have the Velvet Guard, an already understaffed organization, watch someone who looks to the rest of the world like your lacky? That’s going to raise suspicion, Gabriel.”<</if>>
“Well, I do not know what else to do,” he snapped.
It lashed through the room in a bolt of anger that was accompanied by a loud pop from the fire. Belladonna did not move, looking between the two of us, waiting to see how I would handle it. I could see the way Gabriel’s fists clenched at his side. How the line of his jaw tightened.
He was scared.
[[It is not solely your job to protect me]]
[[We are in all this together]]
[[Get up and go to him]]
“Maybe that was the point.” Don’t stand out. Don’t be anything of a certain caliber. Be unassuming. Be a fly on the wall. Be the type of person that others were drawn to and gather them all close. I didn’t know yet why I was in this form that I had arrived in. If I had chosen it. If someone else had. I still had yet to figure out the reason I was here. But, I was starting to wonder if the form I had taken, was inconspicuous for a reason.
From the fireside, Gabriel sighed, putting more wood on the fire. “I do not like the idea of you being self sacrificial,” he said. “But, if that is a conversation we must table for the time being, we will table it. Though, I will be getting a guard detail on you just as I will Belladonna.”
<<if $workforhazel == "true">>I raised a brow towards him. “You are going to have the Velvet Guard, an already understaffed organization, watch someone who looks to the rest of the world like Hazel’s helper? That’s going to raise suspicion, Gabriel.”<<elseif $workforgabriel == "true">>I raised a brow towards him. “You are going to have the Velvet Guard, an already understaffed organization, watch someone who looks to the rest of the world like your lacky? That’s going to raise suspicion, Gabriel.”<</if>>
“Well, I do not know what else to do,” he snapped.
It lashed through the room in a bolt of anger that was accompanied by a loud pop from the fire. Belladonna did not move, looking between the two of us, waiting to see how I would handle it. I could see the way Gabriel’s fists clenched at his side. How the line of his jaw tightened.
He was scared.
[[It is not solely your job to protect me]]
[[We are in all this together]]
[[Get up and go to him]]
Licks of silver and orange flame played as shadows across his skin, dancing dangerously against him as he continued to stare into the fire, his jaw clenched as he caught his anger and fear behind his teeth.
“It is not solely your job to protect me,” I told him. “I am not asking you to.” I hadn’t asked anyone to, really. I didn’t know what that said about how we were all working together or if I needed to start reaching my hand out more. What I did know, however, was Gabriel’s ire and frustration over his duty towards me, was not one I wished to lay on his shoulders.
“You may not have asked it,” he said, “but I am the Warden of the Night Market. It is my job to protect you.” Technically, it was supposed to be the Gatekeepers job. I doubted mentioning that would go over well, however.
“You may consider it your job,” I told him. “But it is not yours and yours alone.” I didn’t know how many people lived within the Night Market. It didn’t matter. But keeping this home of theirs safe, was not Gabriel’s responsibility. And if it somehow was, it was not his alone.
“Gabriel,” Belladonna started. “Come sit with us.” For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore her. Perhaps even turn to walk out of the room. I had never really seen him follow one of Belladonna’s requests. But he surprised me, and maybe even Belladonna, when he walked to the two of us, sitting on the other side of me.
I reached out once more, this time my fingers drifting across his skin in askance. It took him a moment, but he nodded once, threading his hand through mine.
“It has been a long day,” Belladonna said. It had been a long few months. It had been a long life.
The fire crackled on the far side of the room, popping against the still air. For everything being made of stone and marble, the books made the room surprisingly inviting. The vaulted ceilings loomed high into a series of rafters and yet I could see that they were simply offering more room for Belladonna’s extensive collection.
“Gabriel and I used to have a rule,” Belladonna began. “One that I think we should implement once again but with the understanding that it includes you, dear heart. We used to say we had to leave all masks at the door. That when we entered, we were not allowed to bring the Night Market with us. Now,” she said with a small smirk. “Given who you are we may have to adjust our verbiage a bit but I do think you get the gist of the situation, no?”
I looked between the two of them, curious if this was an invitation for sanctuary, or something more. There was mischief behind Belladonna’s eyes and there was certainly interest behind Gabriel’s. Though, he hid it far better.
“Have the two of you talked?” I asked.
“About what Belladonna is insinuating?” Gabriel said. “No.”
“I’m insinuating nothing,” she protested with a little grin. “I am merely inviting dear heart into a safe space to unwind. Consider it my form of protection. You do yours with a blade, Gabriel, I do mine through trust and understanding.”
“Oh, is that all?” he scoffed.
She raised her brow at him. “You are getting rather bold, dear Warden.”
[[Gabriel, is a relationship between all three of us something that you are even interested in?]]
[[How is this going to work?]]
[[I’m not going to lie, I would really like this to work]]
Licks of silver and orange flame played as shadows across his skin, dancing dangerously against him as he continued to stare into the fire, his jaw clenched as he caught his anger and fear behind his teeth.
“We are in this together,” I told him, my gaze solely on him. “You do not need to do any of this alone, Gabriel. And I’m not asking you to. I want to protect myself just as much as I want you to be able to protect me. I…”
The fire cracked loudly and a flash of silver bounced through the room like lightening. I was unsure if it came from him or from the fire itself. The room felt charged with magic that was a dangerous line being drawn across the floor.
“Gabriel,” Belladonna started. “Come sit with us.” For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore her. Perhaps even turn to walk out of the room. I had never really seen him follow one of Belladonna’s requests. But he surprised me, and maybe even Belladonna, when he walked to the two of us, sitting on the other side of me.
I reached out once more, this time my fingers drifting across his skin in askance. It took him a moment, but he nodded once, threading his hand through mine.
“It has been a long day,” Belladonna said. It had been a long few months. It had been a long life.
The fire crackled on the far side of the room, popping against the still air. For everything being made of stone and marble, the books made the room surprisingly inviting. The vaulted ceilings loomed high into a series of rafters and yet I could see that they were simply offering more room for Belladonna’s extensive collection.
“Gabriel and I used to have a rule,” Belladonna began. “One that I think we should implement once again but with the understanding that it includes you, dear heart. We used to say we had to leave all masks at the door. That when we entered, we were not allowed to bring the Night Market with us. Now,” she said with a small smirk. “Given who you are we may have to adjust our verbiage a bit but I do think you get the gist of the situation, no?”
I looked between the two of them, curious if this was an invitation for sanctuary, or something more. There was mischief behind Belladonna’s eyes and there was certainly interest behind Gabriel’s. Though, he hid it far better.
“Have the two of you talked?” I asked.
“About what Belladonna is insinuating?” Gabriel said. “No.”
“I’m insinuating nothing,” she protested with a little grin. “I am merely inviting dear heart into a safe space to unwind. Consider it my form of protection. You do yours with a blade, Gabriel, I do mine through trust and understanding.”
“Oh, is that all?” he scoffed.
She raised her brow at him. “You are getting rather bold, dear Warden.”
[[Gabriel, is a relationship between all three of us something that you are even interested in?]]
[[How is this going to work?]]
[[I’m not going to lie, I would really like this to work]]
Slowly, I stood, walking over to his side. Reaching out, I took his clenched hand, running my fingers across his knuckles, feeling the dips and curves of his fingers as I coaxed him to relax. He would not look at me, the fire playing off his skin in silver and orange waves.
“Gabriel,” I stated calmly. “This is new. We will need time. All of us will need time. I…”
He ripped his hand away, taking a few steps away from me. “Apologies,” he said quickly. “You do not need to be concerning yourself with my own emotions. I have let them get the better of me. We will of course enter into a dialogue of how best to keep you safe while we are addressing the issue of Mr. Next and the opening gates. But, perhaps tonight is not the night.”
I looked at him helplessly. The news of me being the Night Market had passed across his face and rested calmly in his hands. Here though, in this closed room, I could see the beginnings of the cracks.
“$name,” Belladonna said gently. “Bring Gabriel here. I wish to sit with you both.”
I reached out once more, this time my fingers drifting across his skin in askance. It took him a moment, but he nodded once, threading his hand through mine. Slowly, he allowed me to lead him to the settee, settling him down until I was sitting between both Belladonna and him.
“It has been a long day,” Belladonna said. It had been a long few months. It had been a long life.
The fire crackled on the far side of the room, popping against the still air. For everything being made of stone and marble, the books made the room surprisingly inviting. The vaulted ceilings loomed high into a series of rafters and yet I could see that they were simply offering more room for Belladonna’s extensive collection.
“Gabriel and I used to have a rule,” Belladonna began. “One that I think we should implement once again but with the understanding that it includes you, dear heart. We used to say we had to leave all masks at the door. That when we entered, we were not allowed to bring the Night Market with us. Now,” she said with a small smirk. “Given who you are we may have to adjust our verbiage a bit but I do think you get the gist of the situation, no?”
I looked between the two of them, curious if this was an invitation for sanctuary, or something more. There was mischief behind Belladonna’s eyes and there was certainly interest behind Gabriel’s. Though, he hid it far better.
“Have the two of you talked?” I asked.
“About what Belladonna is insinuating?” Gabriel said. “No.”
“I’m insinuating nothing,” she protested with a little grin. “I am merely inviting dear heart into a safe space to unwind. Consider it my form of protection. You do yours with a blade, Gabriel, I do mine through trust and understanding.”
“Oh, is that all?” he scoffed.
She raised her brow at him. “You are getting rather bold, dear Warden.”
[[Gabriel, is a relationship between all three of us something that you are even interested in?]]
[[How is this going to work?]]
[[I’m not going to lie, I would really like this to work]]
It dawned on me then that no one had really asked Gabriel yet how he felt about any of this. While I knew Belladonna would most likely state, very loudly, if she did or did not want something. I was not so certain about Gabriel. Thus far, he had remained silent on the matter, his anger more given on his lack of being able to save me. The feeling of helplessness did not need to be compounded with Belladonna and I making a decision for him.
“Gabriel, is a relationship between the three of us something you are even interested in?” I asked slowly. My heart felt in a relative state of calm but I knew that it was ready to beat wildly out of my chest at the foresight. I could feel the way Belladonna even tensed. Whether she hadn’t thought to speak to him further or was worried about what he would say, I didn’t know.
“A relationship is not something I have considered in nearly every capacity,” he said softly. “Until I met you, that is.” When he looked up at me through the thick of his lashes, I could tell he was trying his hardest to remain sincere. A trait he found hard at times when paired with Belladonna. “I do not know what it means for the three of us. Or if something of that nature could work. But I…. no. I am not opposed to this.”
I nodded. “I know you and Belladonna have a lot to work on and if I can help in any…”
Gabriel sighed, stopping me. Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. It messed it up just slightly, making it stick out in a way that I didn’t find entirely unappealing.
“Our past is not your responsibility,” he said gently. Lifting his gaze, he stared at me with soft conviction. “You have made something incredibly clear in the recent months, $name. And it is that her and I need to own our past and figure out a way to move forward. Because we are harming much more than ourselves by not.”
I blinked at him, not having expected that.
From behind me, I could feel Belladonna scoot closer. “I think, dear heart, you may have given him and I a reason to get our shit together. Not many can take that claim to fame.”
Gabriel snorted in a brief bought of laughter and I saw the tension beginning to slide from his shoulders. When he looked over my shoulder at her, it was with a firm intensity that I had not seen before. “I have not forgiven you,” he told her.
“I have not forgiven me either,” she said, a whisper from where she now rested her head upon my shoulder. I felt her hands inch closer, resting against my sides. “Perhaps we could find a way to do that together?”
Gabriel stared at her, his eyes ticking to where they rested against me. Her nails were bright crimson and pointed into something dangerous. Yet, they were delicate and reassuring against my skin.
“Perhaps,” he said softly.
I shivered. Sitting between the two of them as they spoke of a subject that I had no part in, I still felt them. Felt how they wished for me to be there. Wished to have the silent support of my presence. It began to thread itself into something unexplainable. A new journey that I had not foreseen myself embarking on but one that burned bright and hot and dared me to never look away.
“Dear heart,” Belladonna murmured. Her breath was close to the shell of my ear and her fingers tightened fractionally against me. “I have a small request, if you are amenable.”
I swallowed thickly. “Yes?”
“Kiss him,” she said. “I wish to see how pretty you two look together.”
[[Kiss Gabriel]]
[[I’d rather see you two kiss]]
[[Kiss Belladonna instead]]
Looking between the two of them, I was suddenly struck with the realization that a conversation I had started days ago, was continuing. They had not simply dropped it or considered it some source of traumatic ideation. Somehow, I had gotten myself involved with two of the most powerful people within the Night Market without having really tried.
“How is this going to work?” I asked suddenly. “The three of us.”
“Oh, there are plenty of tips and tricks that I can give you. Positioning is key.”
Gabriel bristled at my other side. “You know what is being spoken of, Belladonna.”
“You could answer it, Gabriel,” she parroted back.
“Or you both could.” They fell silent for a moment at that. For all their posturing, I didn’t think the two of them knew how we were going to do this either. “I know there is baggage between the both of you,” I stated. “But in order to move forward, it needs to be resolved. If I can help with…”
Gabriel sighed, stopping me. Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. It messed it up just slightly, making it stick out in a way that I didn’t find entirely unappealing.
“Our past is not your responsibility,” he said gently. Lifting his gaze, he stared at me with soft conviction. “You have made something incredibly clear in the recent months, $name. And it is that her and I need to own our past and figure out a way to move forward. Because we are harming much more than ourselves by not.”
I blinked at him, not having expected that.
From behind me, I could feel Belladonna scoot closer. “I think, dear heart, you may have given him and I a reason to get our shit together. Not many can take that claim to fame.”
Gabriel snorted in a brief bought of laughter and I saw the tension beginning to slide from his shoulders. When he looked over my shoulder at her, it was with a firm intensity that I had not seen before. “I have not forgiven you,” he told her.
“I have not forgiven me either,” she said, a whisper from where she now rested her head upon my shoulder. I felt her hands inch closer, resting against my sides. “Perhaps we could find a way to do that together?”
Gabriel stared at her, his eyes ticking to where they rested against me. Her nails were bright crimson and pointed into something dangerous. Yet, they were delicate and reassuring against my skin.
“Perhaps,” he said softly.
I shivered. Sitting between the two of them as they spoke of a subject that I had no part in, I still felt them. Felt how they wished for me to be there. Wished to have the silent support of my presence. It began to thread itself into something unexplainable. A new journey that I had not foreseen myself embarking on but one that burned bright and hot and dared me to never look away.
“Dear heart,” Belladonna murmured. Her breath was close to the shell of my ear and her fingers tightened fractionally against me. “I have a small request, if you are amenable.”
I swallowed thickly. “Yes?”
“Kiss him,” she said. “I wish to see how pretty you two look together.”
[[Kiss Gabriel]]
[[I’d rather see you two kiss]]
[[Kiss Belladonna instead]]
Looking at the two of them, I was struck with two things. One being how incredibly attractive the two of them truly were. But I had a feeling anyone with eyes could see that. But, the second being, I genuinely liked these two. They were opposites at first sight but the more I got to know them, they were power. They were individuals with convictions. Who fought. Who battled the world and did not let the world control them. They just did so in entirely different ways. I wanted to be with that. I wanted to be around that. Belladonna and Gabriel were a force on their own. But together, they felt unstoppable. More than anything, I wanted to be caught up in that whirlwind and at the end of the night, fall into that embrace.
“I’m not going to lie,” I said, taking my chance. “I would really like this to work. I know there are some things between the two of you that probably needs to be addressed but…”
Gabriel sighed, stopping me. Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. It messed it up just slightly, making it stick out in a way that I didn’t find entirely unappealing.
“Our past is not your responsibility,” he said gently. Lifting his gaze, he stared at me with soft conviction. “You have made something incredibly clear in the recent months, $name. And it is that her and I need to own our past and figure out a way to move forward. Because we are harming much more than ourselves by not.”
I blinked at him, not having expected that.
From behind me, I could feel Belladonna scoot closer. “I think, dear heart, you may have given him and I a reason to get our shit together. Not many can take that claim to fame.”
Gabriel snorted in a brief bought of laughter and I saw the tension beginning to slide from his shoulders. When he looked over my shoulder at her, it was with a firm intensity that I had not seen before. “I have not forgiven you,” he told her.
“I have not forgiven me either,” she said, a whisper from where she now rested her head upon my shoulder. I felt her hands inch closer, resting against my sides. “Perhaps we could find a way to do that together?”
Gabriel stared at her, his eyes ticking to where they rested against me. Her nails were bright crimson and pointed into something dangerous. Yet, they were delicate and reassuring against my skin.
“Perhaps,” he said softly.
I shivered. Sitting between the two of them as they spoke of a subject that I had no part in, I still felt them. Felt how they wished for me to be there. Wished to have the silent support of my presence. It began to thread itself into something unexplainable. A new journey that I had not foreseen myself embarking on but one that burned bright and hot and dared me to never look away.
“Dear heart,” Belladonna murmured. Her breath was close to the shell of my ear and her fingers tightened fractionally against me. “I have a small request, if you are amenable.”
I swallowed thickly. “Yes?”
“Kiss him,” she said. “I wish to see how pretty you two look together.”
[[Kiss Gabriel]]
[[I’d rather see you two kiss]]
[[Kiss Belladonna instead]]
I felt the chill run up my spine at her command. Staring at Gabriel, I watched him swallow, his throat bobbing in anticipation. With Belladonna plastered against my back, and her hands gently running up and down my side, I could feel the heat rise within my belly, my mouth suddenly going dry.
Scooting forward, I felt my heart hammer in my chest, watching as Gabriel’s tongue came out to lick his lips in anticipation. Behind me, I felt the way Belladonna’s chest brushed against my back and suddenly, I was filled with too much of //them//. Their sights. Their sounds and smells. I wondered what it would feel like to be pressed between them, their lips sucking on either side of my neck.
Letting out a small moan, I leaned forward, capturing Gabriel’s mouth against my own. I felt his hands come up immediately, cupping either side of my face, not trying to control the kiss but holding me. Drinking me in as if I was his last sip of water. Opening my mouth, I felt his tongue slip against mine and as Belladonna took my hand, she gently guided it to Gabriel’s lap. I could already feel the hard length twitching beneath my fingers. His body melted then as he sunk into the kiss, pulling me flush against him as his lips demanded more from me. I returned it all in kind, angling my head to the side as I squeezed him firmly.
“Oh, you two will play so well together,” Belladonna whispered. The shiver of her voice ran up my back as I became lost in Gabriel. I didn’t even realize she was pulling me away. “Pace yourself, my heart,” Belladonna whispered.
Gabriel sat before me, lips slick with my spit and hair in a disarray. As my hand slid from his lap, his eyes fluttered shut. Both of us were a mess. From one little kiss alone. I couldn’t even imagine what the night with two of them would be like and assumed I would not survive it.
But for as lost as Gabriel and I were, Belladonna seemed fine.
Behind me, she flung herself backwards on the settee, her sigh echoing across the room. “I’m feeling peckish. Gabriel, will you cook for us?”
I didn’t know what exactly Belladonna even ate that required Gabriel to cook but I didn’t ask, still reeling from the kiss. Adjusting himself, Gabriel rose from his seat, nodding to her as if this was a typical night. Was this a typical night?
“Of course. But not here,” he told her. “I hate your kitchen.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh joy. I get to deal with your strange snobbery again.”
He ignored her. Instead, he looked down at me, still sitting on the sofa. “I am glad that you are here, $name. Despite how I have acted, I am very happy to know you.” He raised his hand, as if to cup my cheek, but thought better of it. But the soft smile he gave me I knew was my own. Gabriel was still navigating this just as I was, but the fact that he was willing, was enough.
For now.
[[Two week later...|Chapter Twelve 1]]With Belladonna and my back and Gabriel near my front, I felt the room grow far too hot. Belladonna’s command was like an itch at the back of my neck. One I wanted to follow but also one I wanted to push. But I wanted to kiss them. I wanted both of them. Feeling them so close was driving me mad.
It was the only explanation for what I said next.
“I think I’d rather see you two kiss.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened at that and I could feel Belladonna laugh a little at my back. “Would you?” she whispered in my ear. I knew she was looking at Gabriel though, her eyes trained hungrily on him over my shoulder. He shifted in front of me as his eyes fell downwards in silent submission.
“Would you like to see the two of us pressed together, dear heart? See us both naked and slick with sweat, writhing against each other in front of the fire?” I swallowed thickly. She was baiting me. I knew she was baiting me. But I was relishing every minute of it.
Her hands came up my sides, walking across my chest until her arms were locked around me. I could feel her breasts against my back. Her breath warm on my neck. And the sound of Gabriel’s ragged pants filled the room.
“How about it, Gabriel?” she asked, voice honey sweet. “If I asked, would you strip in front of us? I can see the interest already trying to stand to attention,” she teased. “Would you like dear heart to reach out and stroke you while my tongue is down your throat?”
Gabriel didn’t answer but I could feel the low burn of arousal filling me and I wanted nothing more to be sandwiched between them as they did whatever they wanted to each other and to me.
“You both would like that so much, wouldn’t you,” Belladonna cued. “Too bad neither of you have done a thing to deserve it.” She pushed away from my back and I practically stumbled into Gabriel. He caught me with his arms, the two of us nose to nose, sharing the same breath.
“I’m feeling peckish. Gabriel, will you cook for us?” Belladonna asked, dramatically throwing herself back on the settee. Her legs were spread wide and she was looking at the two of us with a satisfied smile.
I didn’t know what exactly Belladonna even ate that required Gabriel to cook but I didn’t ask, still reeling from whatever had just happened between us. When Gabriel pushed me forward, not letting me go until he knew I was steady, he nodded towards Belladonna.
“Of course. But not here. I hate your kitchen.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh joy. I get to deal with your strange snobbery again.”
He ignored her. Instead, he looked down at me, still sitting on the sofa. “I am glad that you are here, $name. Despite how I have acted, I am very happy to know you.” He raised his hand, as if to cup my cheek, but thought better of it. But the soft smile he gave me I knew was my own. Gabriel was still navigating this just as I was, but the fact that he was willing, was enough.
For now.
[[Two week later...|Chapter Twelve 1]]I could have kissed Gabriel. But I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to see how she would do with someone who defied her ‘orders’. I wanted to feel what those sinful lips were like against mine. And I wanted to feel the thrill of Gabriel’s eyes on the two of us.
I leaned forward, as if to kiss Gabriel and follow her command but at the last minute turned, pressing my lips to her own. Belladonna did not hesitate. Her hand gripped my waist while the other came up and took control of my head. Her fingers wrapped around the underside of my jaw, angling me in such a way so we slotted together, her nails biting half moons into my skin. I felt my heart skip as her fangs brushed over my lips and her tongue flicked outwards, demanding and undeterred as she licked the roof of my mouth. Belladonna kissed like she did everything else in life. She was fierce. She was in control. And she stole the breath from my lungs and made it her own. And she was the kind of woman who would only give it back when I thanked her for it.
Pulling away, she stared at me, her eyes a deep blood, her tongue coming out to lick the taste of me from her lips.
“You will have to be punished for that, dear heart. That was not what I ordered.”
I felt a shiver run hot up my spine.
“Oh,” she breathed, leaning forward to nip at my bottom lip, not allowing me to move. “But you do blush so sweet. Doesn’t our little dear heart wear arousal pretty, Gabriel?”
I was panting, my chest rising and falling as I was locked in her hold. Behind me, I felt Gabriel’s hand run down the line of my spine. Just a ghost of a touch. His fingers were curious and soothing all at once. A balm to Belladonna’s heat.
“How does it feel not to be listened to, Bells?” he murmured.
In front of me, Belladonna’s grin grew wide. “Delicious.” She pushed me away until I fell back upon Gabriel’s chest. Standing, she stretched, as if the contact was refreshing. “I’m feeling peckish. Gabriel, will you cook for us?”
I didn’t know what exactly Belladonna even ate that required Gabriel to cook but I didn’t ask, still reeling from her kiss. When Gabriel pushed me forward, not letting me go until he knew I was steady, he nodded towards Belladonna.
“Of course. But not here. I hate your kitchen.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh joy. I get to deal with your strange snobbery again.”
He ignored her. Instead, he looked down at me, still sitting on the sofa. “I am glad that you are here, $name. Despite how I have acted, I am very happy to know you.” He raised his hand, as if to cup my cheek, but thought better of it. But the soft smile he gave me I knew was my own. Gabriel was still navigating this just as I was, but the fact that he was willing, was enough.
For now.
[[Two week later...|Chapter Twelve 1]]“I don’t know anymore,” I told him miserably. I wanted to be me but all I was, was a simple construct sent down from something far grander. I didn’t feel that either, though. I didn’t feel like some cosmic entity. I just felt small. Like someone had just told me everything I had come to rely on was a lie. “I really just don’t know, Malcolm,” I said, looking away ashamed. I wish I did. Given what I was, shouldn’t I have this all figured out by now?
“Well,” Malcolm said. “Then tell you what. When you do know, tell me. But in the meantime, if you are amenable, I would love to discover who you are along with you.”
I nodded numbly, not sure what that would even entail. That was what I thought I had been doing, after all.
“Now, can I have a request?” I nodded. Suddenly, the room shifted as Malcolm sat forward in his seat, staring at me with a small smile that curled at the edge of his lips but did not meet his eyes. “What’s going on between you and my sister?”
I stared at him, unblinking for a minute. Malcolm was her big brother. First and foremost, he had always been her big brother.
“Because, you see,” Malcolm began, “I’ve noticed a few things between you two. Little things, really. Some glances. A familiarity.” <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>He leveled his eyes with me, steepling his fingers under his chin. “And an unhealthy amount of avoidance.
[[We were together but I don’t know if we are anymore]]
[[Things are complicated]]
[[She doesn’t want to speak to me]]<<elseif $hazelbreakup == "false">> He raised a brow in my direction. “The way that you two brush hands when you think no one is looking.”
We had thought we were being discreet. Not that Hazel and I really had a conversation about what we would tell Malcolm. Too much had happened for us to even be able to have more than a few stolen moments with each other.
[[We’re together]]
[[I don’t know what you’re talking about]]
[[Is this the part where you threaten me?]]<</if>>
“I’m the Night Market,” I said. It was done in a tone that was half convincing myself and half acknowledging what I was just trying to wrap my own head around. But it felt right. It was the first thing in a long while that felt as if it were true to me, as opposed to me just grasping for some sense of understanding elsewhere.
Malcolm smirked, staring at me with a sly grin. “You are the Night Market,” he repeated. “Welcome to being the most powerful person in the room at all times.”
The merit of that statement was a nice one. I wasn’t going to lie. “There is that.”
“Now, can I have a request?” I nodded. Suddenly, the room shifted as Malcolm sat forward in his seat, staring at me with a small smile that curled at the edge of his lips but did not meet his eyes. “What’s going on between you and my sister?”
I stared at him, unblinking for a minute. Malcolm was her big brother. First and foremost, he had always been her big brother.
“Because, you see,” Malcolm began, “I’ve noticed a few things between you two. Little things, really. Some glances. A familiarity.” <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>He leveled his eyes with me, steepling his fingers under his chin. “And an unhealthy amount of avoidance."
[[We were together but I don’t know if we are anymore]]
[[Things are complicated]]
[[She doesn’t want to speak to me]]<<elseif $hazelbreakup == "false">> He raised a brow in my direction. “The way that you two brush hands when you think no one is looking.”
We had thought we were being discreet. Not that Hazel and I really had a conversation about what we would tell Malcolm. Too much had happened for us to even be able to have more than a few stolen moments with each other.
[[We’re together]]
[[I don’t know what you’re talking about]]
[[Is this the part where you threaten me?]]<</if>>
“I’m $name,” I told him. “That’s what I want to be. I’ve come to like me and I don’t know if I want that to change.” While conceptually I knew I was the Night Market, I didn’t want it to negate who I had grown to be either. I had no idea if that would work or if I was just staving off the inevitable, but right now, for my own peace of mind, I didn’t want to be the Night Market. I wanted to be me.
“Well,” he said, holding out his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you $name. I’m Malcolm.”
I laughed a little at that. “It’s nice to meet you too, Malcolm.”
“Now, can I have a request?” I nodded. Suddenly, the room shifted as Malcolm sat forward in his seat, staring at me with a small smile that curled at the edge of his lips but did not meet his eyes. “What’s going on between you and my sister?”
I stared at him, unblinking for a minute. Malcolm was her big brother. First and foremost, he had always been her big brother.
“Because, you see,” Malcolm began, “I’ve noticed a few things between you two. Little things, really. Some glances. A familiarity.” <<if $hazelbreakup == "true">>He leveled his eyes with me, steepling his fingers under his chin. “And an unhealthy amount of avoidance.
[[We were together but I don’t know if we are anymore]]
[[Things are complicated]]
[[She doesn’t want to speak to me]]<<elseif $hazelbreakup == "false">> He raised a brow in my direction. “The way that you two brush hands when you think no one is looking.”
We had thought we were being discreet. Not that Hazel and I really had a conversation about what we would tell Malcolm. Too much had happened for us to even be able to have more than a few stolen moments with each other.
[[We’re together]]
[[I don’t know what you’re talking about]]
[[Is this the part where you threaten me?]]<</if>>I guess it would have been too much to ask for a man as perceptive as Malcolm, not to notice something significant about his only sister. I just didn’t know what I was supposed to say to him. I couldn’t seem to make it right with Hazel and every time I thought that maybe I’d be able to, another roadblock obscured my way, veering me far off course from her. Since everything had happened, I had been rushing in and out of the apothecary, while she was here, predominantly alone. The few moments where it did seem as if she wanted me around, were overshadowed by grief and desperate sought out comfort. I didn’t know what to make of any of it.
“We were together,” I told him. “But I don’t know if we are anymore.” There had been really no follow-up conversation. And how could there be? Life had become one big tumble down a rocky hill. There was no stopping the forward motion and the harder I tried to scramble for purchase, the more I felt like breaking.
“How do you not know?” Malcolm asked curiously.
I shrugged. “I guess we may have been avoiding each other. Or maybe life has been helping us avoid each other.” I rubbed a hand across my face. Life. Right. So, essentially, me.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
I slumped in my seat, the joy from the earlier moments gone. “I don’t know what to say. I asked her to come with me to do something and it went badly. Hazel witnessed it and she blames me for seeing it because I was the reason she was there.”
“Someone get hurt?” Malcolm asked.
“Yes.” It was a whispered confession. I wondered where Caliban was now. If he had made it to safety. If Odin had gotten him before he could land somewhere where people would greet him with a friendly smile.
Nodding, Malcolm sighed, ticking his eyes towards where Hazel had disappeared. “She was never good about processing the bad,” he said. “Too much of it happened to her and she just shoved it away. Pretended it didn’t happen most of the time. I’m sorry that what you two had going is now falling into that category.”
I shuddered. It wasn’t a thought I hadn’t entertained before but hearing it out loud almost made it worse.
“Malcolm, I don’t know what she was like before, but she’s become a recluse. Milo has had to bring her most of the shops supplies if they can’t be delivered. He’s primarily her runner if she needs to get things to different locations of the market. She rarely leaves the shop and when she does, it’s only for short periods and always with someone.”
Malcolm frowned at that, looking around the room with a hint of horror. Learning his sister's life had only been here, in the place he died, couldn’t have been an easy concept to swallow. Especially given who Hazel could be. Someone so sweet and full of life. Hiding herself away deep within the market, at the end of a burned out street.
“Talk to her,” he said after a moment. “She’s not a runner but she will avoid. Go and talk to her and figure this out.”
“Malcolm…”
“Lamplight, I didn’t die for nearly a decade only to come back and pick up the pieces of my sister's broken relationship. If you two can’t figure it out, that’s one thing. But not trying? Not telling her that it’s time to talk? Not a thing. She deserves to feel her anger but you also deserve not to be waiting in the wings until she makes her decision. And you should tell her that.”
[[You’re right. I’m done waiting]]
[[But what if she won’t talk to me?]]
[[I’m angry at her too]]
I guess it would have been too much to ask for a man as perceptive as Malcolm, not to notice something significant about his only sister. I just didn’t know what I was supposed to say to him. I couldn’t seem to make it right with Hazel and every time I thought that maybe I’d be able to, another roadblock obscured my way, veering me far off course from her. Since everything had happened, I had been rushing in and out of the apothecary, while she was here, predominantly alone. The few moments where it did seem as if she wanted me around, were overshadowed by grief and desperate sought out comfort. I didn’t know what to make of any of it.
“Things are complicated.” It felt like such an understatement to say. The events that had transpired between us were wrapped up in such sorrow that they were hard to untangle. Everything was tainted in that moment by the loss of Caliban and I just remember looking at her in shock that evening as the foundation we had been building so easily came tumbling down.
“Hazel is really not a complicated woman,” Malcolm said. “So that surprises me.”
It honestly had me too. For someone so soft and sweet, I was discovering that her lines were absolute and far more based in past events than I had any knowledge of.
Seeing the look on my face, Malcolm shifted closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I slumped in my seat, the joy from the earlier moments gone. “I don’t know what to say. I asked her to come with me to do something and it went badly. Hazel witnessed it and she blames me for seeing it because I was the reason she was there.”
“Someone get hurt?” Malcolm asked.
“Yes.” It was a whispered confession. I wondered where Caliban was now. If he had made it to safety. If Odin had gotten him before he could land somewhere where people would greet him with a friendly smile.
Nodding, Malcolm sighed, ticking his eyes towards where Hazel had disappeared. “She was never good about processing the bad,” he said. “Too much of it happened to her and she just shoved it away. Pretended it didn’t happen most of the time. I’m sorry that what you two had going is now falling into that category.”
I shuddered. It wasn’t a thought I hadn’t entertained before but hearing it out loud almost made it worse.
“Malcolm, I don’t know what she was like before, but she’s become a recluse. Milo has had to bring her most of the shops supplies if they can’t be delivered. He’s primarily her runner if she needs to get things to different locations of the market. She rarely leaves the shop and when she does, it’s only for short periods and always with someone.”
Malcolm frowned at that, looking around the room with a hint of horror. Learning his sister's life had only been here, in the place he died, couldn’t have been an easy concept to swallow. Especially given who Hazel could be. Someone so sweet and full of life. Hiding herself away deep within the market, at the end of a burned out street.
“Talk to her,” he said after a moment. “She’s not a runner but she will avoid. Go and talk to her and figure this out.”
“Malcolm…”
“Lamplight, I didn’t die for nearly a decade only to come back and pick up the pieces of my sister's broken relationship. If you two can’t figure it out, that’s one thing. But not trying? Not telling her that it’s time to talk? Not a thing. She deserves to feel her anger but you also deserve not to be waiting in the wings until she makes her decision. And you should tell her that.”
[[You’re right. I’m done waiting]]
[[But what if she won’t talk to me?]]
[[I’m angry at her too]]
I guess it would have been too much to ask for a man as perceptive as Malcolm, not to notice something significant about his only sister. I just didn’t know what I was supposed to say to him. I couldn’t seem to make it right with Hazel and every time I thought that maybe I’d be able to, another roadblock obscured my way, veering me far off course from her. Since everything had happened, I had been rushing in and out of the apothecary, while she was here, predominantly alone. The few moments where it did seem as if she wanted me around, were overshadowed by grief and desperate sought out comfort. I didn’t know what to make of any of it.
“She doesn’t want to speak with me,” I told him.
“Hazel usually only goes silent if someone has crossed her line,” he said.
“I’m aware of that. Now.” I hadn’t been though. In fact, I knew very little about the woman I had found myself besotted with. The things she could do, the ideologies she held near, all of them were mere thoughts that I wasn’t allowed to grasp at. The time to develop anything past our initial feelings had been a struggle to obtain.
“Want to tell me about it?”
I slumped in my seat, the joy from the earlier moments gone. “I don’t know what to say. I asked her to come with me to do something and it went badly. Hazel witnessed it and she blames me for seeing it because I was the reason she was there.”
“Someone get hurt?” Malcolm asked.
“Yes.” It was a whispered confession. I wondered where Caliban was now. If he had made it to safety. If Odin had gotten him before he could land somewhere where people would greet him with a friendly smile.
Nodding, Malcolm sighed, ticking his eyes towards where Hazel had disappeared. “She was never good about processing the bad,” he said. “Too much of it happened to her and she just shoved it away. Pretended it didn’t happen most of the time. I’m sorry that what you two had going is now falling into that category.”
I shuddered. It wasn’t a thought I hadn’t entertained before but hearing it out loud almost made it worse.
“Malcolm, I don’t know what she was like before, but she’s become a recluse. Milo has had to bring her most of the shops supplies if they can’t be delivered. He’s primarily her runner if she needs to get things to different locations of the market. She rarely leaves the shop and when she does, it’s only for short periods and always with someone.”
Malcolm frowned at that, looking around the room with a hint of horror. Learning his sister's life had only been here, in the place he died, couldn’t have been an easy concept to swallow. Especially given who Hazel could be. Someone so sweet and full of life. Hiding herself away deep within the market, at the end of a burned out street.
“Talk to her,” he said after a moment. “She’s not a runner but she will avoid. Go and talk to her and figure this out.”
“Malcolm…”
“Lamplight, I didn’t die for nearly a decade only to come back and pick up the pieces of my sister's broken relationship. If you two can’t figure it out, that’s one thing. But not trying? Not telling her that it’s time to talk? Not a thing. She deserves to feel her anger but you also deserve not to be waiting in the wings until she makes her decision. And you should tell her that.”
[[You’re right. I’m done waiting]]
[[But what if she won’t talk to me?]]
[[I’m angry at her too]]
“We’re together,” I told him, figuring there was no sense trying to hide it. While we had never come out and told everyone we were in a relationship, it wasn’t as if we were shrouding it in secrecy. Half the time we fell asleep on top of each other, whether in my room or hers. And I could think of a few nights we had both fallen off the sofa upstairs because we had dozed on it when we were up late into the night.
“I’m happy for you two,” Malcolm said genuinely. “I always thought Hazel was a bit standoffish to relationships. Now I’m wondering if she was merely just holding out for the right one. I couldn’t ask for anyone better for my sister.”
“Thanks, Malcolm.”
Upon the offering of gratitude, his smile immediately twisted. “That being said, if you hurt my little sister, you and I are going to have a problem. A serious one. The kind that I can bring up at dinner constantly to make everyone really uncomfortable.”
“Malcolm, knock it off.” Hazel’s voice sounded from the back door as she came in, carrying a bundle of herbs. “You know as well as I do, if $name ever hurt me, I could do far worse than you,” she teased.
Malcolm smiled at me. “Oh, Hazel. Boils only go so far. Disappointment? Stern looks. Standing around every corner to make sure that any future relationship for $name knows that I will //always// be there? That is far more fun.”
Behind him, Hazel rolled her eyes. “Go upstairs, brother. Start the soup. $name and I need to talk.”
Rising from the sofa, Malcolm winked at me and I was left with the uneasy feeling of not knowing if he was teasing or actually serious. Gathering the herbs from his sister, he gave her a small kiss on the cheek before limping upstairs. He made sure to turn though, and as the door slowly shut with a creek, his eyes remained firmly on me the entire time.
“Ignore him,” Hazel said, wrapping her arms around my waist.
[[Did I do something wrong?]]
[[For someone so understanding, he can be kind of creepy]]
[[Hazel, I kind of adore your brother]]
I blinked at him innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told him. Hazel could be the one to speak to her brother. Not me. It felt safer that way.
“I bet you don’t.” The smirk on his face was a self-satisfied one, although I really didn’t know how big of a secret Hazel and I were supposed to be. We hadn’t ever announced our relationship but it wasn’t like we were sneaking around behind everyone's backs.
Although, that did feel like a missed opportunity.
“Well, since you don’t know what I’m talking about I guess I won’t have to tell you that if you hurt my little sister, you and I are going to have a problem. A serious one. The kind that I can bring up at dinner constantly to make everyone really uncomfortable.”
“Malcolm, knock it off.” Hazel’s voice sounded from the back door as she came in, carrying a bundle of herbs. “You know as well as I do, if $name ever hurt me, I could do far worse than you,” she teased.
Malcolm smiled at me. “Oh, Hazel. Boils only go so far. Disappointment? Stern looks. Standing around every corner to make sure that any future relationship for $name knows that I will //always// be there? That is far more fun.”
Behind him, Hazel rolled her eyes. “Go upstairs, brother. Start the soup. $name and I need to talk.”
Rising from the sofa, Malcolm winked at me and I was left with the uneasy feeling of not knowing if he was teasing or actually serious. Gathering the herbs from his sister, he gave her a small kiss on the cheek before limping upstairs. He made sure to turn though, and as the door slowly shut with a creek, his eyes remained firmly on me the entire time.
“Ignore him,” Hazel said, wrapping her arms around my waist.
[[Did I do something wrong?]]
[[For someone so understanding, he can be kind of creepy]]
[[Hazel, I kind of adore your brother]]
Without confirming anything, I matched Malcolm’s expression. “Is this the part where you threaten me?” I asked him. “Go all macho big brother on the situation?”
Malcolm let out a laugh. It was loud and full and I found that the sound echoed pleasingly across the apothecary. Mr. Billows even looked intrigued by it, as if it were a sound he had been missing or so long. “No,” Malcolm said. “No, Lamplight. I’m not going to threaten you. That would be counterproductive since I am supposed to protect you and all that.”
“Would be a little,” I agreed.
“However, if you hurt my sister in any way shape or form?” he leaned forward in his seat. “I will be very angry, Lamplight. And I don’t like getting angry. It doesn’t suit me.”
“Malcolm, knock it off.” Hazel’s voice sounded from the back door as she came in, carrying a bundle of herbs. “You know as well as I do, if $name ever hurt me, I could do far worse than you,” she teased.
Malcolm smiled at me. “Oh, Hazel. Boils only go so far. Disappointment? Stern looks. Standing around every corner to make sure that any future relationship for $name knows that I will //always// be there? That is far more fun.”
Behind him, Hazel rolled her eyes. “Go upstairs, brother. Start the soup. $name and I need to talk.”
Rising from the sofa, Malcolm winked at me and I was left with the uneasy feeling of not knowing if he was teasing or actually serious. Gathering the herbs from his sister, he gave her a small kiss on the cheek before limping upstairs. He made sure to turn though, and as the door slowly shut with a creek, his eyes remained firmly on me the entire time.
“Ignore him,” Hazel said, wrapping her arms around my waist.
[[Did I do something wrong?]]
[[For someone so understanding, he can be kind of creepy]]
[[Hazel, I kind of adore your brother]]
I stared at him for a prolonged beat. Everything up to this point had been on Hazel’s terms. I had wanted to give her space, just as she had asked. But as the days bled away and the passage of time braided our lives into something far more complicated, I realized Hazel was no longer asking for space. She was simply avoiding.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m done waiting. When she comes back inside, I’ll talk to her.”
“It’s probably for the best,” Malcolm said. “And, it’ll give me a moment alone. But hey, at least now I know why she was spending so much energy on me. She was avoiding her own problems. Just like old times,” he sighed.
I tipped my head to the side. “So this is typical of her?”
A huff of mirthless laughter slipped from him. “Oh, you have no idea. Hopefully, you two being together, can change a few things. When given the choice of listening to her brother, or the one she chose to love, who do you think she’s going to listen to.”
“I’m assuming me in this scenario?”
He smiled at me.
“Are you two talking about me?” The back door shut with a creak. Hazel stood just inside, an overflowing basket of herbs in her arms. It was what she gathered each time she made her healing soups. I knew those herbs. I had helped her cut them for her countless times.
“We are,” Malcolm said cheerily. Hoisting himself from the sofa, he looked at me before turning to Hazel. I didn’t see what look he gave her, his back was turned, but Hazel’s lips thinned at whatever expression she had found.
“I’ll just give you two some space.” Limping over to Hazel, he took the basket from her and began towards the door that led upstairs. “I’ll get the broth going.”
The door clicked shut with a snap, leaving the two of us alone and staring at each other. In the same room that it had all fallen apart on us.
“Well,” she said, shuffling her feet back and forth. “I can see you and Malcolm are getting along.” There had been a time that that would have been all she had hoped for. Now, it only seemed to make her nervous.
[[I want to talk about us]]
[[I’m sorry for what I did. It was wrong]]
[[I’m sorry for how I handled that situation but you are holding me on too high of a pedestal]]
“But what if she won’t talk to me?” I asked softly. She had asked for space and I had tried to give it to her. But unless we were speaking of something safe, we weren’t speaking at all. I missed the nights with her in the kitchen. I missed watching her cook and bundling the herbs for the morning rush. I missed dancing around the shop as we cleaned after a day of work. They were all precious moments that we had barely had since finding out the world was dying, that //I// was dying, and now that they were gone completely, it left such an ache.
“I think if she knew how much she was hurting you, she would,” Malcolm said softly. “Hazel is not a cruel woman. She is simply a woman that hates pain. There is probably a reason she has been single for so long.”
I placed my head in my hands. When had this become so complicated?
“I just want to make this right between us,” I said. “I don’t care how, I just want her back. I don’t know when everything spiraled out of control and I certainly don’t seem to know how to make it better…”
“Are you two talking about me?” The back door shut with a creak. Hazel stood just inside, an overflowing basket of herbs in her arms. It was what she gathered each time she made her healing soups. I knew those herbs. I had helped her cut them for her countless times.
“We are,” Malcolm said cheerily. Hoisting himself from the sofa, he looked at me before turning to Hazel. I didn’t see what look he gave her, his back was turned, but Hazel’s lips thinned at whatever expression she had found.
“I’ll just give you two some space.” Limping over to Hazel, he took the basket from her and began towards the door that led upstairs. “I’ll get the broth going.”
The door clicked shut with a snap, leaving the two of us alone and staring at each other. In the same room that it had all fallen apart on us.
“Well,” she said, shuffling her feet back and forth. “I can see you and Malcolm are getting along.” There had been a time that that would have been all she had hoped for. Now, it only seemed to make her nervous.
[[I want to talk about us]]
[[I’m sorry for what I did. It was wrong]]
[[I’m sorry for how I handled that situation but you are holding me on too high of a pedestal]]
“I’m angry too, you know,” I told him. It welled inside me with a sharp abruptness, that I found myself blinking at my own statement. But I was. I was angry at Hazel. And given the kind of person she was, I hadn’t wanted to admit it. Because who would want to be known as the asshole angry at Hazel?
“Have you told her that?” Malcolm didn’t even seem phased at my words.
“She hasn’t given me the opportunity to.” We had been playing the game of avoidance. Of not really even being alone in the same room together. Before I thought it a coincidence but looking back on it, Hazel had been slipping away at every opportunity. And it had hurt so much that I found myself staying away as well.
“Why are you waiting for someone else to give you the opportunity to express your feelings? She doesn’t have to respond but it certainly doesn’t mean you have to hold your tongue.”
I had wanted to give her space. And I had thought she would come to me. Or maybe I had been avoiding it all together. The entire situation felt like a spiral of unnecessary moments. They seemed petty and insignificant now. Yet I was still holding onto them. And so was she.
“They have put everything on me, Malcolm,” I found myself saying. “All of them have put absolutely //everything// on me. They didn’t know me and they said here, find the Gatekeeper. Go seek out the Barons. Do it predominantly alone. Gather the rings. Go on the quests. Sacrifice your time, your hope, your ideas of right and wrong, because this is important. This is more important than you or a relationship or what you wanted. This…”
“$name?”
Hazel stood at the back door, staring at us. A basked of overflowing herbs held in her arms. It was what she gathered each time she made her healing soups. I knew those herbs. I had helped her cut them for her countless times.
Hoisting himself from the sofa, Malcolm looked at me before turning to Hazel. I didn’t see what look he gave her, his back was turned, but Hazel’s lips thinned at whatever expression she had found.
“I’ll just give you two some space.” Limping over to Hazel, he took the basket from her and began towards the door that led upstairs. “I’ll get the broth going.”
The door clicked shut with a snap, leaving the two of us alone and staring at each other. In the same room that it had all fallen apart on us.
“Well,” she said, shuffling her feet back and forth. “I can see you and Malcolm are getting along.” There had been a time that that would have been all she had hoped for. Now, it only seemed to make her nervous.
[[I want to talk about us]]
[[I’m sorry for what I did. It was wrong]]
[[I’m sorry for how I handled that situation but you are holding me on too high of a pedestal]]
“I think you and I need to have a long conversation about us,” I said, cutting through the silence of the room and taking control of it. I didn’t want to wait any longer. I didn’t want to see how long it took her to come to me. “Are we still seeing each other?”
She frowned, not quite meeting my eyes. “We haven’t been acting like it,” she said.
When Malcolm had come back, when she had been kneeling on the apothecary floor, she had not hesitated to come back into my arms. She had taken comfort in me during those first moments. When we had gotten Malcolm settled. When we had gone upstairs. It was as if she had forgotten. For one brief moment, we were us again.
Then, the day had come back to her and she had pulled away once more. Leaving me in the cold. I just didn’t know what to do.
“You said you wanted space. I’ve been trying to give it to you. But at this point, I’m not sure when that needed time is going to end."
“I know,” she said softly, frustration creeping in. “I have been thinking about it. Just so much has happened, $name. I might need more time. I–”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know. However long it is going to take, I guess.”
She clutched the counter between us, her knuckles white beneath her grip. She was running. We had focused so much on Milo running from the problems that were created but we said nothing of Hazel’s tendency to as well. To hide. To avoid.
“Hazel, a relationship is two ways. I have given you time, but eventually, we do have to talk about all this.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, her voice high-pitched. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“And you think I do?” I asked. I leaned closer, feeling the edge of the counter press against my belly. “Hazel, there is not a single moment of that night that I want to remember. But I hate this. I hate not being able to hold you when I want to. I hate not feeling you near. There was so much about that night that went wrong but this, you and me, is the one thing that I might be able to fix. Please, just talk to me. Let me help fix this.”
The shift in her gold flecked eyes was subtle. It softened her immediately and as she stared at me, I could see the hands that gripped the counter tops, begins to tremble. “I was scared,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I didn’t know how to– all of that just seemed.” Stopping, she put her head in her hands. “It was too much, $name. It’s always been too much. And you’ve been dealing with it the entire time.”
[[I have. Which is why I wanted you there]]
[[And I will gladly do it all again, but I’m hoping you’ll be by my side for it]]
[[We both messed up that night. We didn’t communicate our needs to each other]]
When Malcolm had come back, when she had been kneeling on the apothecary floor, she had not hesitated to come back into my arms. She had taken comfort in me during those first moments. When we had gotten Malcolm settled. When we had gone upstairs. It was as if she had forgotten. For one brief moment, we were us again.
Then, the day had come back to her and she had pulled away once more. Leaving me in the cold. I just didn’t know what to do.
“Hazel, I’m sorry,” I began immediately. I knew if I let things linger, the conversation just wasn’t going to happen. I needed her to know though, how that night had gone from my side. “Every part of me wishes I could take that night back. That I could do things different. I was overwhelmed and I didn’t know what I was walking into and all I could think at that moment was how much I wanted you by my side.”
“I couldn’t do anything to help though,” she whispered. “I don’t understand why you would even want me around. When it comes to these big situations, I’m not strong like Gabriel. I’m not cunning like Bella and I am certainly not clever like Milo. I wasn’t able to offer you anything.”
“Is that what you think?” Leaving the apothecary had always been about her fear of the market, I had assumed. That the world out there was far too big and dangerous, given how much she had lost. But now, I wondered if it more had to do with her perception of herself.
“I only hinder these situations, $name.”
“Hazel, I wasn’t asking you to come because I wanted you to do something,” I told her. “I was asking you to come because I was faced with the impossible task of betraying my friend or letting the world around me die. Letting //me// die, it turns out. There was nothing about that decision that felt right, no matter how it was spun. And at that moment, in a world where I have not been allowed to be selfish, I was selfish. I wanted the woman that I cared for by my side.”
The shift in her gold flecked eyes was subtle. It softened her immediately and as she stared at me, I could see the hands that gripped the counter tops, begins to tremble. “I was scared,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I didn’t know how to– all of that just seemed.” Stopping, she put her head in her hands. “It was too much, $name. It’s always been too much. And you’ve been dealing with it the entire time.”
[[I have. Which is why I wanted you there]]
[[And I will gladly do it all again, but I’m hoping you’ll be by my side for it]]
[[We both messed up that night. We didn’t communicate our needs to each other]]
When Malcolm had come back, when she had been kneeling on the apothecary floor, she had not hesitated to come back into my arms. She had taken comfort in me during those first moments. When we had gotten Malcolm settled. When we had gone upstairs. It was as if she had forgotten. For one brief moment, we were us again.
Then, the day had come back to her and she had pulled away once more. Leaving me in the cold. I just didn’t know what to do.
“I’m sorry,” I started, knowing that I had to go right into it. As if I would never get the opportunity to again. “I’m sorry for how I handled the situation with you. With Caliban. I am more sorry than I think you know.” Hazel’s shoulders sagged a little, her eyes darting away. “But I also think you are holding me on a pedestal. That you want me to be perfect. And at the first sign that I was not, you turned away.”
“Excuse me?” her eyes flashed to me but I didn’t let it drive me back.
“Hazel,” I approached the counter, closing the distance. The front counter laid between us like a barrier and I saw her brace her hands on it as if to keep it there. “I was wrong to insist that you come. I was incredibly wrong. And I will work on that and I would like to talk to you about those boundaries because I was unaware of them to the extent that they are. But, you need to please keep something in mind. From nearly the moment you all met me, you have been expecting me to fix the market. You have sent me on nearly impossible tasks. Overwhelming tasks. And that night was another overwhelming task. One that hit entirely too close to home given who Caliban was to me. I wanted you by my side not because I was trying to hurt you, but because I wanted your support. I wanted you with me.”
“But I didn’t want to go,” she said.
“Neither did I.”
There was no part of me that wished to see Caliban that night. Even if my decision had been different, that never would have changed. I had gone there, however, because it was what I thought I had to do. I didn’t see another option.
“I was faced with the impossible task of betraying my friend or letting the world around me die. Letting //me// die, it turns out. There was nothing about that decision that felt right, no matter how it was spun. And at that moment, in a world where I have not been allowed to be selfish, I was selfish. I wanted the woman that I cared for by my side.”
The shift in her gold flecked eyes was subtle. It softened her immediately and as she stared at me, I could see the hands that gripped the counter tops, begins to tremble. “I was scared,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I didn’t know how to– all of that just seemed.” Stopping, she put her head in her hands. “It was too much, $name. It’s always been too much. And you’ve been dealing with it the entire time.”
[[I have. Which is why I wanted you there]]
[[And I will gladly do it all again, but I’m hoping you’ll be by my side for it]]
[[We both messed up that night. We didn’t communicate our needs to each other]]
The sound of her weeping filled the room once more. It had happened far too often and the surrounding walls were soaked through with too much pain. “I have been.” I had been through far too much in far too short of a time and the only reason I was holding it together at this point, was because I was the Night Market. Or at least that was my suspicion at least. “It’s why I wanted you there that night. I wanted you there because all of this is too much. You sometimes make the harsh moments not feel so heavy.”
Tipping her face upwards, she nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You are faced with these choices constantly and upon the first one, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. But I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. Never on you.”
A small weight lifted at her words. It was one thing to know that what had happened was far bigger than what it appeared, and another thing to hear her say it.
“I think maybe we’ve made a mistake,” I told her. The panic that struck her was almost immediate and as I realized how my words sounded, I rushed to correct them. “No. No, not like that. I just mean, we don’t really know each other. Not well at least. I know that we haven’t gotten the opportunity for much but maybe once this Gatekeeper situation settles, and now that Malcolm’s back, we could try.”
“Like, go out on a date?” she asked hopefully. “A- a real one outside the apothecary.”
Smiling at her, I reached out and took her hand, bringing it to my lips. “When you’re ready.”
The sob that burst from her throat had her falling towards me, clinging to my tightly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think. I didn’t– I should have talked to you more. Told you I didn’t think I could handle that.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you couldn’t handle that,” I whispered. “And I’m sorry for pushing you when you asked me not to.”
We stood there for a long while, swaying in place. We had a lot to work on, but her body was warm against mine and all I wanted at that moment was to hold her forever. That’s all I had ever wanted from Hazel.
When I leaned away, she rose to her tiptoes, pressing her lips to my own, the taste of salt mingling on my tongue as I opened my mouth to hers. A breathy sigh escaped her as she breathed along with me, the two of us existing together. It felt like coming home. For the first time in a long while, I felt my body begin to relax.
Pulling back, Hazel refused to let go of me. “I have to go upstairs. I don’t like leaving Malcolm for long and I don’t like the way he makes broth.”
“Is he also a bad cook?”
“No,” she said slowly. “He just adds different spices. Which makes him wrong.” I felt the laughter burst from me and it felt freeing to do so again. As if it were banishing all the little shards that had embedded themselves in my skin. “Come with me?” Hazel asked hopefully.
Now that I had her back, I doubted I would be able to tear myself away. At least not for tonight. Leaning down, I rubbed my nose against hers. “Forever,” I told her. The answering grin she gave me in return was enough. I knew then that Hazel was all I needed.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]The sound of her weeping filled the room once more. It had happened far too often and the surrounding walls were soaked through with too much pain. “Hazel,” I called to her softly. “A lot has been put on me. But all of it is something I would gladly do again. And will continue to do. I am just hoping you will want to be by my side for some of it.”
Tipping her face upwards, she nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You are faced with these choices constantly and upon the first one, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. But I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. Never on you.”
A small weight lifted at her words. It was one thing to know that what had happened was far bigger than what it appeared, and another thing to hear her say it.
“I think maybe we’ve made a mistake,” I told her. The panic that struck her was almost immediate and as I realized how my words sounded, I rushed to correct them. “No. No, not like that. I just mean, we don’t really know each other. Not well at least. I know that we haven’t gotten the opportunity for much but maybe once this Gatekeeper situation settles, and now that Malcolm’s back, we could try.”
“Like, go out on a date?” she asked hopefully. “A- a real one outside the apothecary.”
Smiling at her, I reached out and took her hand, bringing it to my lips. “When you’re ready.”
The sob that burst from her throat had her falling towards me, clinging to my tightly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think. I didn’t– I should have talked to you more. Told you I didn’t think I could handle that.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you couldn’t handle that,” I whispered. “And I’m sorry for pushing you when you asked me not to.”
We stood there for a long while, swaying in place. We had a lot to work on, but her body was warm against mine and all I wanted at that moment was to hold her forever. That’s all I had ever wanted from Hazel.
When I leaned away, she rose to her tiptoes, pressing her lips to my own, the taste of salt mingling on my tongue as I opened my mouth to hers. A breathy sigh escaped her as she breathed along with me, the two of us existing together. It felt like coming home. For the first time in a long while, I felt my body begin to relax.
Pulling back, Hazel refused to let go of me. “I have to go upstairs. I don’t like leaving Malcolm for long and I don’t like the way he makes broth.”
“Is he also a bad cook?”
“No,” she said slowly. “He just adds different spices. Which makes him wrong.” I felt the laughter burst from me and it felt freeing to do so again. As if it were banishing all the little shards that had embedded themselves in my skin. “Come with me?” Hazel asked hopefully.
Now that I had her back, I doubted I would be able to tear myself away. At least not for tonight. Leaning down, I rubbed my nose against hers. “Forever,” I told her. The answering grin she gave me in return was enough. I knew then that Hazel was all I needed.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]The sound of her weeping filled the room once more. It had happened far too often and the surrounding walls were soaked through with too much pain. “We both messed up that night,” I told her softly. “We didn’t communicate our needs to each other and I think we were both wrong there.”
Tipping her face upwards, she nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You are faced with these choices constantly and upon the first one, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. But I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. Never on you.”
A small weight lifted at her words. It was one thing to know that what had happened was far bigger than what it appeared, and another thing to hear her say it.
“I think maybe we’ve made a mistake,” I told her. The panic that struck her was almost immediate and as I realized how my words sounded, I rushed to correct them. “No. No, not like that. I just mean, we don’t really know each other. Not well at least. I know that we haven’t gotten the opportunity for much but maybe once this Gatekeeper situation settles, and now that Malcolm’s back, we could try.”
“Like, go out on a date?” she asked hopefully. “A- a real one outside the apothecary.”
Smiling at her, I reached out and took her hand, bringing it to my lips. “When you’re ready.”
The sob that burst from her throat had her falling towards me, clinging to my tightly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think. I didn’t– I should have talked to you more. Told you I didn’t think I could handle that.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you couldn’t handle that,” I whispered. “And I’m sorry for pushing you when you asked me not to.”
We stood there for a long while, swaying in place. We had a lot to work on, but her body was warm against mine and all I wanted at that moment was to hold her forever. That’s all I had ever wanted from Hazel.
When I leaned away, she rose to her tiptoes, pressing her lips to my own, the taste of salt mingling on my tongue as I opened my mouth to hers. A breathy sigh escaped her as she breathed along with me, the two of us existing together. It felt like coming home. For the first time in a long while, I felt my body begin to relax.
Pulling back, Hazel refused to let go of me. “I have to go upstairs. I don’t like leaving Malcolm for long and I don’t like the way he makes broth.”
“Is he also a bad cook?”
“No,” she said slowly. “He just adds different spices. Which makes him wrong.” I felt the laughter burst from me and it felt freeing to do so again. As if it were banishing all the little shards that had embedded themselves in my skin. “Come with me?” Hazel asked hopefully.
Now that I had her back, I doubted I would be able to tear myself away. At least not for tonight. Leaning down, I rubbed my nose against hers. “Forever,” I told her. The answering grin she gave me in return was enough. I knew then that Hazel was all I needed.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]Twisting in her arms, I wrapped my own around her waist. “Did I do something wrong?” I asked with a furrow of my brow. I thought Malcolm and I were getting along but maybe he really didn’t want anyone dating his sister.
“If he’s threatening you, you’ve done something right,” Hazel assured me. “If he didn’t like you, he would have gotten rid of you by now.” I startled at how easy the revelation rolled off her tongue but she silenced it as she brushed her nose against my own, placing a soft kiss on my lips. She had become so soft since Malcolm had returned. There was still a nervous panic that laced her actions towards her brother, but there was no denying that she was happy. His return renewed something in her I hadn’t known she had even lost.
“So, Night Market. How are you feeling?” Her tone was teasing but I could see the concern in her eyes.
“About finding out that I am a cosmic being that is pretty much this world?” I asked.
She hissed in sympathy, running her fingers along my cheek. “I mean, it makes sense. I know it probably doesn’t feel like it makes a lot of sense up here,” she said, tapping my temple. “But it will.”
[[I know. It’s just going to take time]]
[[I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to what I apparently am]]
[[Yeah, you know, because being an entire planet will one day not feel weird]]
Twisting in her arms, I wrapped my own around her waist. “You know, for someone so understanding, he also knows how to be creepy. And vaguely threatening?”
“Malcolm used to run with a very different kind of crowd. This is him playful.” Pulling me close, Hazel brushed her nose against my own, placing a soft kiss on my lips. She had become so soft since Malcolm had returned. There was still a nervous panic that laced her actions towards her brother, but there was no denying that she was happy. His return renewed something in her I hadn’t known she had even lost.
“So, Night Market. How are you feeling?” Her tone was teasing but I could see the concern in her eyes.
“About finding out that I am a cosmic being that is pretty much this world?” I asked.
She hissed in sympathy, running her fingers along my cheek. “I mean, it makes sense. I know it probably doesn’t feel like it makes a lot of sense up here,” she said, tapping my temple. “But it will.”
[[I know. It’s just going to take time]]
[[I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to what I apparently am]]
[[Yeah, you know, because being an entire planet will one day not feel weird]]
Twisting in her arms, I wrapped my own around her waist. “I kind of adore your brother,” I told her truthfully. I had only the briefest of experience with him but I was already finding that I liked his company a lot. He was over all a very serious man, but there was a sense of humor there. It was dry, but it was there.
“I knew you would,” she said with a smile. “Though, now that he is back I will have to tone it down a bit with how wonderful he is. He has an ego.” I laughed as she brushed her nose against my own, placing a soft kiss on my lips. She had become so soft since Malcolm had returned. There was still a nervous panic that laced her actions towards her brother, but there was no denying that she was happy. His return renewed something in her I hadn’t known she had even lost.
“So, Night Market. How are you feeling?” Her tone was teasing but I could see the concern in her eyes.
“About finding out that I am a cosmic being that is pretty much this world?” I asked.
She hissed in sympathy, running her fingers along my cheek. “I mean, it makes sense. I know it probably doesn’t feel like it makes a lot of sense up here,” she said, tapping my temple. “But it will.”
[[I know. It’s just going to take time]]
[[I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to what I apparently am]]
[[Yeah, you know, because being an entire planet will one day not feel weird]]
“I know,” I said. I wasn’t placating her. I wasn’t trying to change the subject. I knew that with time, a person could accept almost anything. This was just something new that needed to settle. The very thought of it, for the time being, was just rocking against my skull in a dull ache and I didn’t want to push too hard. “It’s all just going to take time.”
Pushing me back against the counter, she hopped up, bringing me between her legs and looping her arms around my neck. “I would say it might be best if you don’t think too hard on it but honestly, I don’t know how you can’t. I’m sorry.”
It was an intrusive thought. One that popped up at random and I had been trying to shove it away in some vain hope that one day it wouldn’t feel so weird. But now I was starting to realize that it might never sit well with me. Especially when I didn’t feel like a cosmic entity, housing the rest of the world. “This isn’t weird for you?”
“For me?” Hazel looked startled. “Why would it be weird for me?”
“Because you are dating the world in which you live on?”
Tilting her head to the side, her nose wrinkled up a bit as she mulled that over. “I mean, it’s a little different,” she said. “But, I am up for the challenge. And besides, it’s not like you are walking around as the entire world. You’re walking around as $name. And $name is the one that I adore.”
“You still see me as $name?”
“Honey, you could become possessed with the entire consciousness of the market and walk around speaking in several different languages and I would still just see you as $name. People grow and evolve through life. Why would I think you to be any different?”
I leaned against her then. Around us, the shop was still in a state of disrepair, the closed sign had been posted for days, and Billows was currently stalking one of the shadows in the corner. Beyond the doors was a market that was dying, that I was somehow a part of, and a man who quite possibly knew what was happening the entire time. The domestic nature of home felt odd went placed against the chaos of out there. But it made me want to protect it just a little bit more.
“How are you feeling by the way? Knowing what is happening, I think we need to be monitoring your headaches a bit more. I’ve looked up a few spells and I think there are some things we can do. And,” she said, bouncing in her seat. “I have a little bit of a theory. Since you are connected to the market as a whole, I thought that maybe, we could treat some of the market problems through you.”
“I don’t know if a tonic is going to repair a rip in the sky,” I told her.
“No,” she said, “but a slow introduction of magic within your body, just might translate to a repair of the market form. Almost like boosting you with vitamins so you don’t have as long of a recovery period.”
She had thought about this. Knowing her, she had a few tonics already drawn up, waiting for me to give her the go ahead so she could start pouring them in my morning tea. But, after everything that had happened with Malcolm, I was recognizing something within Hazel. Her need to hide from the problem at hand.
[[How are you feeling about Milo?]]
[[Did you really have no idea that Milo was the Gatekeeper?]]
[[What is going to happen if it turns out Milo is working against us?]]
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to what I apparently am,” I told her. It was an intrusive thought. One that popped up at random and I had been trying to shove it away in some vain hope that one day it wouldn’t feel so weird. But now I was starting to realize that it might never sit well with me. Especially when I didn’t feel like a cosmic entity, housing the rest of the world. “I get the idea of being greater than you anticipated. I can even accept that I have a higher destiny or something. I mean, my memories are of just dropping into the Night Market. I kind of figured something was up. But this was a bit more than I expected.”
Pushing me back against the counter, she hopped up, bringing me between her legs and looping her arms around my neck. “I would say it might be best if you don’t think too hard on it but honestly, I don’t know how you can’t. I’m sorry.”
It was an intrusive thought. One that popped up at random and I had been trying to shove it away in some vain hope that one day it wouldn’t feel so weird. But now I was starting to realize that it might never sit well with me. Especially when I didn’t feel like a cosmic entity, housing the rest of the world. “This isn’t weird for you?”
“For me?” Hazel looked startled. “Why would it be weird for me?”
“Because you are dating the world in which you live on?”
Tilting her head to the side, her nose wrinkled up a bit as she mulled that over. “I mean, it’s a little different,” she said. “But, I am up for the challenge. And besides, it’s not like you are walking around as the entire world. You’re walking around as $name. And $name is the one that I adore.”
“You still see me as $name?”
“Honey, you could become possessed with the entire consciousness of the market and walk around speaking in several different languages and I would still just see you as $name. People grow and evolve through life. Why would I think you to be any different?”
I leaned against her then. Around us, the shop was still in a state of disrepair, the closed sign had been posted for days, and Billows was currently stalking one of the shadows in the corner. Beyond the doors was a market that was dying, that I was somehow a part of, and a man who quite possibly knew what was happening the entire time. The domestic nature of home felt odd went placed against the chaos of out there. But it made me want to protect it just a little bit more.
“How are you feeling by the way? Knowing what is happening, I think we need to be monitoring your headaches a bit more. I’ve looked up a few spells and I think there are some things we can do. And,” she said, bouncing in her seat. “I have a little bit of a theory. Since you are connected to the market as a whole, I thought that maybe, we could treat some of the market problems through you.”
“I don’t know if a tonic is going to repair a rip in the sky,” I told her.
“No,” she said, “but a slow introduction of magic within your body, just might translate to a repair of the market form. Almost like boosting you with vitamins so you don’t have as long of a recovery period.”
She had thought about this. Knowing her, she had a few tonics already drawn up, waiting for me to give her the go ahead so she could start pouring them in my morning tea. But, after everything that had happened with Malcolm, I was recognizing something within Hazel. Her need to hide from the problem at hand.
[[How are you feeling about Milo?]]
[[Did you really have no idea that Milo was the Gatekeeper?]]
[[What is going to happen if it turns out Milo is working against us?]]
I nodded at her. “Yeah. I’m sure you’re right. Because being an entire planet will one day not feel weird. I’m sure of it.” I slumped against her. “How is that even supposed to make sense, Hazel. A world? An entire world?”
Pushing me back against the counter, she hopped up, bringing me between her legs and looping her arms around my neck. “I would say it might be best if you don’t think too hard on it but honestly, I don’t know how you can’t. I’m sorry.”
It was an intrusive thought. One that popped up at random and I had been trying to shove it away in some vain hope that one day it wouldn’t feel so weird. But now I was starting to realize that it might never sit well with me. Especially when I didn’t feel like a cosmic entity, housing the rest of the world. “This isn’t weird for you?”
“For me?” Hazel looked startled. “Why would it be weird for me?”
“Because you are dating the world in which you live on?”
Tilting her head to the side, her nose wrinkled up a bit as she mulled that over. “I mean, it’s a little different,” she said. “But, I am up for the challenge. And besides, it’s not like you are walking around as the entire world. You’re walking around as $name. And $name is the one that I adore.”
“You still see me as $name?”
“Honey, you could become possessed with the entire consciousness of the market and walk around speaking in several different languages and I would still just see you as $name. People grow and evolve through life. Why would I think you to be any different?”
I leaned against her then. Around us, the shop was still in a state of disrepair, the closed sign had been posted for days, and Billows was currently stalking one of the shadows in the corner. Beyond the doors was a market that was dying, that I was somehow a part of, and a man who quite possibly knew what was happening the entire time. The domestic nature of home felt odd went placed against the chaos of out there. But it made me want to protect it just a little bit more.
“How are you feeling by the way? Knowing what is happening, I think we need to be monitoring your headaches a bit more. I’ve looked up a few spells and I think there are some things we can do. And,” she said, bouncing in her seat. “I have a little bit of a theory. Since you are connected to the market as a whole, I thought that maybe, we could treat some of the market problems through you.”
“I don’t know if a tonic is going to repair a rip in the sky,” I told her.
“No,” she said, “but a slow introduction of magic within your body, just might translate to a repair of the market form. Almost like boosting you with vitamins so you don’t have as long of a recovery period.”
She had thought about this. Knowing her, she had a few tonics already drawn up, waiting for me to give her the go ahead so she could start pouring them in my morning tea. But, after everything that had happened with Malcolm, I was recognizing something within Hazel. Her need to hide from the problem at hand.
[[How are you feeling about Milo?]]
[[Did you really have no idea that Milo was the Gatekeeper?]]
[[What is going to happen if it turns out Milo is working against us?]]
Milo was a looming shadow. One that hung over our every day far more than Malcolm ever had. His presence within the apothecary had been constant and now, with his absence, there was a coldness to the walls he had helped put in place. Every inch of the apothecary he had walked in. Laughed in. Hazel and him and played cards at the table beyond. They had grieved Malcolm right in the middle of the apothecary floor. And most mornings, I found a blurry eyed Milo, munching on a muffin, listening to Hazel’s to-do list for the day because without fail, he was going to help her with it.
Then he was gone.
Just like that.
“How are you feeling about this whole Milo situation?” I made sure to ask the question as gently as possible. Ten years had passed and from what I could figure, Milo received his powers, right in front of her. Yet, Hazel had genuinely been surprised when Malcolm had told her. Ten years of living and playing and working in the same space as someone and she hadn’t even had a clue.
“I feel like an idiot, really,” she confessed. “When Malcolm was the Gatekeeper, I never knew. Then, he died, and the rules were laid out so clearly. But it didn’t once cross my mind that Milo would have been lying to me. I just assumed he wasn’t the Gatekeeper because why wouldn’t he have told me? Especially with everything that had just happened with Malcolm.” She pressed her face against my chest, breathing in steadily. “I’m assuming it was a protection thing. Or he was scared. He has always struggled to ask for help when scared. But the fact that I didn’t see it still makes me feel like a fool.”
Gently, I stroked her back, listening to her quietly detail out all the things she hadn’t wanted to say. “I don’t think you’re a fool. I think that you see the best in people. And I think you would have assumed Milo would have told you. Especially since you were both there that night. That doesn’t make you a fool, Hazel.”
Dipping her head downward, she shook her head. “I thought he had put this kind of stuff behind him,” she said after a moment. Her words were a whisper, traded between the small space between us. “He had a hard life growing up. We all did. But when he started trying to make it on his own, he went to lengths that weren’t good for him. Mal did too. But Mal got out and I thought for sure Milo did as well but this all feels so much like those days again. He wasn’t a good person then, $name. I mean, he wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t good either.”
“What did he do?”
She shrugged. Talking about it was starting to relieve the tension from her shoulders and slowly, I ran a hand down her back, coaxing the last of it to fade away. “I don’t know for certain. They kept a lot of it from me. But he used to come here with bruises all over him. Around his wrists, his eyes. His knuckles. There were times that he lived off protection charms. The kind of stuff that kept someone from tracking him. And there used to be people, ones that would come looking for him. They wouldn’t even say a word and he would go off with them like they were his best friend.”
The Milo she was speaking of sounded nothing like the one I knew now. From what I had observed, he had dedicated his life to Hazel. I knew he had contacts and haunts outside of the Albright’s but given how they had always spoken, I thought for the longest time it had just been the three of them. Or maybe that’s how Hazel had just wanted it to be.
“Just bring him home,” she said softly. “Whatever is going on, he’s family. Just bring him home, $name.”
[[I promise I will]]
[[I can’t make that promise]]
[[Just hold her instead]]
Milo was a looming shadow. One that hung over our every day far more than Malcolm ever had. His presence within the apothecary had been constant and now, with his absence, there was a coldness to the walls he had helped put in place. Every inch of the apothecary he had walked in. Laughed in. Hazel and him and played cards at the table beyond. They had grieved Malcolm right in the middle of the apothecary floor. And most mornings, I found a blurry eyed Milo, munching on a muffin, listening to Hazel’s to-do list for the day because without fail, he was going to help her with it.
Then he was gone.
Just like that.
“Did you really have no idea that Milo was the Gatekeeper?” I made sure to ask the question as gently as possible. Ten years had passed and from what I could figure, Milo received his powers, right in front of her. Yet, Hazel had genuinely been surprised when Malcolm had told her. Ten years of living and playing and working in the same space as someone and she hadn’t even had a clue.
“I should have, right?” A self-deprecating laugh laced her words. “I was there. I should have known. By the rules of the market it had to go to one of us. I thought about it a few days after everything had happened and went to ask him about it. Do you know what he said to me? He said ‘is it possible it could have transferred to someone nearby’? He never even denied it. He just asked the question and I went down the road for him.”
She rubbed her face against my chest in frustration. I could feel the tears wetting her cheeks.
“He was wearing the damn ring, $name. I just thought he loved Malcolm so much, that he missed him like I did. Now I’ve come to learn he was wearing it because he had to. Because Baron’s cannot take off their rings for extended periods. You must think me an idiot.”
“I didn’t see it either,” I pointed out. “Belladonna might be one of the most intuitive people we know and she only marginally suspected.”
Dipping her head downward, she shook her head. “I thought he had put this kind of stuff behind him,” she said after a moment. Her words were a whisper, traded between the small space between us. “He had a hard life growing up. We all did. But when he started trying to make it on his own, he went to lengths that weren’t good for him. Mal did too. But Mal got out and I thought for sure Milo did as well but this all feels so much like those days again. He wasn’t a good person then, $name. I mean, he wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t good either.”
“What did he do?”
She shrugged. Talking about it was starting to relieve the tension from her shoulders and slowly, I ran a hand down her back, coaxing the last of it to fade away. “I don’t know for certain. They kept a lot of it from me. But he used to come here with bruises all over him. Around his wrists, his eyes. His knuckles. There were times that he lived off protection charms. The kind of stuff that kept someone from tracking him. And there used to be people, ones that would come looking for him. They wouldn’t even say a word and he would go off with them like they were his best friend.”
The Milo she was speaking of sounded nothing like the one I knew now. From what I had observed, he had dedicated his life to Hazel. I knew he had contacts and haunts outside of the Albright’s but given how they had always spoken, I thought for the longest time it had just been the three of them. Or maybe that’s how Hazel had just wanted it to be.
“Just bring him home,” she said softly. “Whatever is going on, he’s family. Just bring him home, $name.”
[[I promise I will]]
[[I can’t make that promise]]
[[Just hold her instead]]
Milo was a looming shadow. One that hung over our every day far more than Malcolm ever had. His presence within the apothecary had been constant and now, with his absence, there was a coldness to the walls he had helped put in place. Every inch of the apothecary he had walked in. Laughed in. Hazel and him and played cards at the table beyond. They had grieved Malcolm right in the middle of the apothecary floor. And most mornings, I found a blurry eyed Milo, munching on a muffin, listening to Hazel’s to-do list for the day because without fail, he was going to help her with it.
Then he was gone.
Just like that.
“Hazel, I know you don’t want to talk about it…”
“Then let’s not,” she said quickly.
I held her a little tighter, letting her know I wasn’t going anywhere. “What is going to happen if it turns out Milo is working against us?”
“He’s not, $name.” The firmness in which she said it meant she was not having a conversation about the other possibility. The blinders that were put up for Milo were as firm as ever.
“You should be a part of that conversation,” I told her. “I don’t want to make decisions about him without you. You are his oldest friend.”
“I’m telling you, Milo is not against us. I am positive he has his reasons for staying away.”
It was what she wasn’t seeing, really. Milo had his reasons, but they may not have been good ones. The deep lines of worry were stretching across her now and I knew that deep down, Hazel was terrified. Either she had missed something key in the last ten years or she had been duped. It didn’t shake out good, either way.
Dipping her head downward, she shook her head. “I thought he had put this kind of stuff behind him,” she said after a moment. Her words were a whisper, traded between the small space between us. “He had a hard life growing up. We all did. But when he started trying to make it on his own, he went to lengths that weren’t good for him. Mal did too. But Mal got out and I thought for sure Milo did as well but this all feels so much like those days again. He wasn’t a good person then, $name. I mean, he wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t good either.”
“What did he do?”
She shrugged. Talking about it was starting to relieve the tension from her shoulders and slowly, I ran a hand down her back, coaxing the last of it to fade away. “I don’t know for certain. They kept a lot of it from me. But he used to come here with bruises all over him. Around his wrists, his eyes. His knuckles. There were times that he lived off protection charms. The kind of stuff that kept someone from tracking him. And there used to be people, ones that would come looking for him. They wouldn’t even say a word and he would go off with them like they were his best friend.”
The Milo she was speaking of sounded nothing like the one I knew now. From what I had observed, he had dedicated his life to Hazel. I knew he had contacts and haunts outside of the Albright’s but given how they had always spoken, I thought for the longest time it had just been the three of them. Or maybe that’s how Hazel had just wanted it to be.
“Just bring him home,” she said softly. “Whatever is going on, he’s family. Just bring him home, $name.”
[[I promise I will]]
[[I can’t make that promise]]
[[Just hold her instead]]
I would do anything for her. It was a conviction that settled so firmly against me that I knew I would stop at no lengths to bring Milo home. Not for the sake of my own body or for the answers we sought. But for Hazel. Because after all this was done, Milo owed her answers for the last ten years.
“I promise,” I told her. “I’ll bring him home.”
She pressed her face against my chest, her lips grazing just above my heart. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” I was bound and determined that neither of us would have to find out.
“Come on,” she said with a resigned sigh. “Malcolm makes broth wrong. We need to go stop him before he gets it in his head to add his spices.”
“His spices?” I asked as we pulled apart.
“His flavor pallet is different from mine,” she said with a shrug. “He’s not a bad cook. He’s just wrong.” Hopping off the counter, she laced her fingers within mine. When she looked up at me with a smile, it felt like the sun; warm and blinding, and perfectly mine.
Without hesitation, I followed her. I would follow her forever if she let me.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]There was a need to give Hazel everything. Everything that she asked for. But from the brief time I had been in her life, I had learned one thing. Whatever my intentions may be, someone else was waiting in the wings to take them away. “I can’t make that promise,” I told her gently.
It didn’t matter if I wanted to or not. The possibility that I might fail her was too high and the last thing I wanted to do was be the reason for more disappointment to fill her beautiful eyes. So I didn’t promise her. I couldn’t. But I hoped with everything I had that when I next saw Milo, I could make him understand the need to come home.
“That’s okay,” she whispered softly. “I still trust you.” The belief in me slotted warm against my chest. Like an extra beat of a heart that Hazel had gifted to me to carry wherever my feet happened to stray.
“Come on,” she said with a resigned sigh. “Malcolm makes broth wrong. We need to go stop him before he gets it in his head to add his spices.”
“His spices?” I asked as we pulled apart.
“His flavor pallet is different from mine,” she said with a shrug. “He’s not a bad cook. He’s just wrong.” Hopping off the counter, she laced her fingers within mine. When she looked up at me with a smile, it felt like the sun; warm and blinding, and perfectly mine.
Without hesitation, I followed her. I would follow her forever if she let me.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]A promise wasn’t something I could make. There was far too much risk that the rest of the world would interfere for me and I would have to break an oath to her. I couldn’t handle seeing any more disappointment on her face. All I could hope for now, was the ability to shelter her for her. And to be invited into her arms when I needed sheltering.
So instead of saying anything, I tucked my head against her shoulder, breathing in the soft scent of dirt and basil from the garden. I felt her hands come up my back, walking up the line of my spine before resting against me softly. I knew that Hazel and I had a long life laid out between us. I didn’t care if I was the Night Market,if I was responsible for the world at large, in moments like this, I didn’t even care. I just wanted her. And for reasons unknown, she just wanted me.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Malcolm makes broth wrong. We need to go stop him before he gets it in his head to add his spices.”
“His spices?” I asked as we pulled apart.
“His flavor pallet is different from mine,” she said with a shrug. “He’s not a bad cook. He’s just wrong.” Hopping off the counter, she laced her fingers within mine. When she looked up at me with a smile, it felt like the sun; warm and blinding, and perfectly mine.
Without hesitation, I followed her. I would follow her forever if she let me.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]“Let’s just focus on getting through this first.” I didn’t mean to be a downer but the nerves that were rolling in my stomach for the night ahead had put me on edge. Thankfully, Hazel didn’t seem to take offense. If anything, she probably wished I could stay here entirely.
When I managed to turn my eyes back to hers, her face was much more serious than when she had first walked in. “You’re right. But, $name, I think I would like to talk to you about all that. When the chance comes. I– I think that you should know some things about my childhood. And about my family.”
Looking at me, she shuffled back and forth on her feet. I could feel her begin to pull away but I held her a little tighter. “Whatever you want to tell me, I would love to listen.” Hazel’s past was something shrouded in hurt. Before the memories had played out before me, it was all too clear that her childhood was not the kind that was filled with a small child's whimsy. The power that pulsed from Hazel during the brief moments when she used it, was far more indicative of the kind of life that she led. When everything began to settle, when we dealt with the world tearing apart, her and I were going to need to address that.
<<if $dress == "true">>Breaking apart, I continued getting ready. Hazel fussed over the length of my skirt, adjusting the material and running her hands over the bodice of it.<<elseif $suit == "true">>Breaking apart, I continued getting ready. Hazel fussed over the cut of my suit, adjusting the fabric and smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles.<</if>> I knew it was her way to keep me here a bit longer, not wishing for me to go out there on my own. But, the lanterns were dimming outside and our moments were growing shorter and shorter.
“I need to go,” I told her gently.
She didn’t look at me. I think if she did she would have asked me to stay. “Of course. Um… don’t dance with anyone tonight.”
I raised a brow at her.
“No!” she said quickly, eyes wide. “No, it’s not a jealousy thing. It’s a protection thing. I’ve woven some magic into your clothes just now that will hopefully ward you from the omen but…”
I stopped her. “Hazel, what are you talking about?” Casually weaving protection spells within my clothes was not something I was aware she could do. But now, I remembered just how much she fiddled with the fabrics of almost everything I wore.
“An omen,” she said. Genuine fear crossed her eyes. “A harbinger of death. They came to me a while back and said there would be a ball. That there would be death and for me not to go. To not let the ones I love go either. And now, you are going to be there. Milo is going to be there…”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
She blinked back her tears. “It felt surreal. Omens are so easy to misunderstand and with how blatant this one was I just…” she shook her head. “Just don’t dance with anyone that’s feet don’t touch the ground. That’s the sign of an omen. And if an omen touches you, it is the mark of death.”
“I’ll be careful,” I told her. “I promise.” I had no idea what else I was supposed to say to that and really, that might have been indicative of what I had been through that a harbinger of death didn’t shake me anymore.
“And–” she bit her lower lip, “and try to maybe understand Milo? Just a bit. He doesn’t get a lot of understanding in his life.”
[[He doesn’t make it easy]]
[[I’m going into this open minded]]
[[I just want answers. Then we’ll decide what we are doing]]
“I would really like that,” I told her. “Are you ready for it?”
She nodded eagerly. “I was hoping you would ask that. I’ve been asking the wisps to find me quiet little places. Restaurants and cafe’s that are not just these walls but are maybe not so hustle and bustle that they make me nervous. I would really like to dress you in something fancy like this again and spoil you,” she said, her grin intoxicating.
“You spoil me every day,” I told her.
She was silent then, a sense of levity falling across her. “I would like to talk to you about all that. When the chance comes. I– I think that you should know some things about my childhood. And about my family.”
Looking at me, she shuffled back and forth on her feet. I could feel her begin to pull away but I held her a little tighter. “Whatever you want to tell me, I would love to listen.” Hazel’s past was something shrouded in hurt. Before the memories had played out before me, it was all too clear that her childhood was not the kind that was filled with a small child's whimsy. The power that pulsed from Hazel during the brief moments when she used it, was far more indicative of the kind of life that she led. When everything began to settle, when we dealt with the world tearing apart, her and I were going to need to address that.
<<if $dress == "true">>Breaking apart, I continued getting ready. Hazel fussed over the length of my skirt, adjusting the material and running her hands over the bodice of it.<<elseif $suit == "true">>Breaking apart, I continued getting ready. Hazel fussed over the cut of my suit, adjusting the fabric and smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles.<</if>> I knew it was her way to keep me here a bit longer, not wishing for me to go out there on my own. But, the lanterns were dimming outside and our moments were growing shorter and shorter.
“I need to go,” I told her gently.
She didn’t look at me. I think if she did she would have asked me to stay. “Of course. Um… don’t dance with anyone tonight.”
I raised a brow at her.
“No!” she said quickly, eyes wide. “No, it’s not a jealousy thing. It’s a protection thing. I’ve woven some magic into your clothes just now that will hopefully ward you from the omen but…”
I stopped her. “Hazel, what are you talking about?” Casually weaving protection spells within my clothes was not something I was aware she could do. But now, I remembered just how much she fiddled with the fabrics of almost everything I wore.
“An omen,” she said. Genuine fear crossed her eyes. “A harbinger of death. They came to me a while back and said there would be a ball. That there would be death and for me not to go. To not let the ones I love go either. And now, you are going to be there. Milo is going to be there…”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
She blinked back her tears. “It felt surreal. Omens are so easy to misunderstand and with how blatant this one was I just…” she shook her head. “Just don’t dance with anyone that’s feet don’t touch the ground. That’s the sign of an omen. And if an omen touches you, it is the mark of death.”
“I’ll be careful,” I told her. “I promise.” I had no idea what else I was supposed to say to that and really, that might have been indicative of what I had been through that a harbinger of death didn’t shake me anymore.
“And–” she bit her lower lip, “and try to maybe understand Milo? Just a bit. He doesn’t get a lot of understanding in his life.”
[[He doesn’t make it easy]]
[[I’m going into this open minded]]
[[I just want answers. Then we’ll decide what we are doing]]
“Instead of going somewhere, when this is all done, how about I make something nice here for us,” I suggested. Stepping forward, I pulled her close, wrapping her in my arms. “We could set something up in the back garden. Maybe the wisps will even cooperate and light the evening?”
She giggled. “If you can somehow take control of the wisps then I’m going to start thinking you are far more powerful than me.”
“I’m not sure that’s possible.”
She was silent then, a sense of levity falling across her. “I would like to talk to you about all that. When the chance comes. I– I think that you should know some things about my childhood. And about my family.”
Looking at me, she shuffled back and forth on her feet. I could feel her begin to pull away but I held her a little tighter. “Whatever you want to tell me, I would love to listen.” Hazel’s past was something shrouded in hurt. Before the memories had played out before me, it was all too clear that her childhood was not the kind that was filled with a small child's whimsy. The power that pulsed from Hazel during the brief moments when she used it, was far more indicative of the kind of life that she led. When everything began to settle, when we dealt with the world tearing apart, her and I were going to need to address that.
<<if $dress == "true">>Breaking apart, I continued getting ready. Hazel fussed over the length of my skirt, adjusting the material and running her hands over the bodice of it.<<elseif $suit == "true">>Breaking apart, I continued getting ready. Hazel fussed over the cut of my suit, adjusting the fabric and smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles.<</if>> I knew it was her way to keep me here a bit longer, not wishing for me to go out there on my own. But, the lanterns were dimming outside and our moments were growing shorter and shorter.
“I need to go,” I told her gently.
She didn’t look at me. I think if she did she would have asked me to stay. “Of course. Um… don’t dance with anyone tonight.”
I raised a brow at her.
“No!” she said quickly, eyes wide. “No, it’s not a jealousy thing. It’s a protection thing. I’ve woven some magic into your clothes just now that will hopefully ward you from the omen but…”
I stopped her. “Hazel, what are you talking about?” Casually weaving protection spells within my clothes was not something I was aware she could do. But now, I remembered just how much she fiddled with the fabrics of almost everything I wore.
“An omen,” she said. Genuine fear crossed her eyes. “A harbinger of death. They came to me a while back and said there would be a ball. That there would be death and for me not to go. To not let the ones I love go either. And now, you are going to be there. Milo is going to be there…”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
She blinked back her tears. “It felt surreal. Omens are so easy to misunderstand and with how blatant this one was I just…” she shook her head. “Just don’t dance with anyone that’s feet don’t touch the ground. That’s the sign of an omen. And if an omen touches you, it is the mark of death.”
“I’ll be careful,” I told her. “I promise.” I had no idea what else I was supposed to say to that and really, that might have been indicative of what I had been through that a harbinger of death didn’t shake me anymore.
“And–” she bit her lower lip, “and try to maybe understand Milo? Just a bit. He doesn’t get a lot of understanding in his life.”
[[He doesn’t make it easy]]
[[I’m going into this open minded]]
[[I just want answers. Then we’ll decide what we are doing]]
“He doesn’t make it easy.” At any point, Milo could have contacted us. Between my own observations and the conversations I had had in recent days with Malcolm, I was certain that Milo was not in the dark about what was going on. To what extent he knew, I wasn’t sure, but he was staying away on purpose, effectively locking off civil conversation.
“I know,” Hazel tried to soothe. “But I think he is scared. Milo doesn’t react well when he thinks everyone is against him.” I wasn’t so sure she was right though. Hazel had rose-tinted eyes for Milo. From what I had seen, Milo didn’t care what others thought of him. He was someone that was far more interested in how people moved about the world. While Milo was a people person, I think he saw himself as an outsider to everyone else.
“We’ll see how tonight goes,” I said, making no promises. I knew it wasn’t the answer she wanted but I didn’t think I could give her anything more.
Stepping up to her, I kissed her one last time. Lingering as I held her in my arms, feeling her body warm and whole against my own. More than anything, I was looking forward to laying down with her tonight. Of putting the day behind me and relaxing in her arms.
“I’ll have muffins when you get home,” she said.
I laughed a little. “I’d like that.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve the ball 2]]“I’m going into this open-minded,” I told her. I wanted to believe Hazel. I also didn’t want to believe that Milo could be as duplicitous as it all seemed. “I promise you, I’m going to try my best to remain level-headed and listen to what he has to say.”
There was a sag to her shoulders at that as relief radiated from her. Part of her had wrestled with the idea of going and finding Milo herself. I had overheard the conversation between her and Malcolm last night. She had convinced herself that if we just went and found him, maybe even camped out at Malcolm’s old place, then maybe we could talk some sense into him.
I don’t know what Malcolm had said to her but it never went any further.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Stepping up to her, I kissed her one last time. Lingering as I held her in my arms, feeling her body warm and whole against my own. More than anything, I was looking forward to laying down with her tonight. Of putting the day behind me and relaxing in her arms.
“I’ll have muffins when you get home,” she said.
I laughed a little. “I’d like that.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve the ball 2]]“Hazel, all tonight is going to be, is me gaining some answers. I am trying very hard not to jump to conclusions about Milo and I am going to allow him a chance to explain. But,” I looked at her sadly. “What are you going to do if it turns out he has been playing us this entire time?” I had asked her this question. Malcolm had asked her this question. And so far, Hazel had not been able to entertain anything other than the assertion that Milo had his reasons.
But as she stood before me now, something shifted. In the middle of the room she helped me furnish, within a home that she had provided for me. She looked small and unsure yet again. I hated seeing that on her and I knew Milo’s actions were the cause. But then, as she tipped her head upwards, gathering her thoughts, I saw just the briefest flicker of black.
“If Milo has truly been playing us this entire time, then that’s it. Him and I are done.” Her voice was hardened and not her own, edging on the ancient power that she called upon. For Milo’s sake, I hoped he had a very good reason.
Stepping up to her, I kissed her one last time. Lingering as I held her in my arms, feeling her body warm and whole against my own. More than anything, I was looking forward to laying down with her tonight. Of putting the day behind me and relaxing in her arms.
“I’ll have muffins when you get home,” she said.
I laughed a little. “I’d like that.”
[[Next|Chapter Twelve the ball 2]]I squeezed Hazel’s hand, not wanting to say the next words but knowing that if anyone was going to break it to Hazel, it needed to be me. “I don’t think this is going to end good,” I tried to explain softly. “I think he is up to something, Hazel. And I think that something is directly against us.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Did he threaten you? Did he threaten one of us?”
“No. No it’s not like that. But all his answers were cagey. He is hiding something and I gave him the opportunity to come clean. He isn’t budging. He brought us here for a reason and I’m starting to think it wasn’t to just talk.”
Hazel shook her head, immediately rejecting the idea. I knew she would. For Milo, she would hold out hope until he turned against us right before her very eyes. “Let me talk to him,” she urged. “He’s probably on the defense. He doesn’t do well when he feels attacked. But I can help with that. He’s different with me.”
Rounding the corner, I tried not to think about it. I wanted so desperately to assure her that by the end of the night, everything would be fine. That her, Milo and I, would be sitting around a table, playing cards. That Malcolm would be there too. That somehow, //somehow//, this would all work.
“Oh!” Hazel let out a little gasp as we nearly smacked into someone, both of us distracted by thoughts of Milo. The individual in question didn’t look as if he were dressed for the party and I wondered if he was a groundskeeper of some sort. He had dark skin that looked aged with hard work and was dressed in a simple set of trousers and a shirt that was woven together with various colored threads.
“Ms. Hazel.” His voice was deep as he spoke Hazel’s name, the likes of which was filled with awe. “It is wonderful to see you again.” His eyes ticked upwards towards the ballroom, the light from inside catching the forest green of his eyes. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
I glanced at Hazel, trying to gauge just how well she knew this man. “Laikin,” she said with an air of familiarity. I could tell she was confused to have run into him but the trepidation I saw in her when she had to confront someone outside of the apothecary was nowhere to be found. “I am. Well, actually. No. I’m not. Not that it’s not a pretty ball. It’s certainly more lavish than anywhere I’ve ever been.”
The man nodded, a fond smile on his face. There was something about it. The way he was looking. Like Hazel was one of the most enchanting people he knew. “I must admit I was surprised to see you here. Taliesin’s is not exactly a place of gentle kindness.”
“No,” Hazel agreed with a solemn nod. “But, I came here for a friend,” she said. Darting her eyes up to me, she squeezed my hand. I saw the way the man's eyes ticked towards our interwoven fingers. Somehow, his smile grew softer.
“Is this your….?”
[[Hazel and I are dating]]
[[Lover]]
[[Partner]]
I squeezed her hand. “I think he’s in over his head, Hazel. Something isn’t right.” There was no part of the conversation up on that balcony that felt like the whole truth. While it would have been far too easy to accuse Milo of furthering a game he had already put into motion, I had looked into his eyes. I just didn’t think he was capable of the type of hurt he was crafting. Something else was going on entirely.
“I knew it,” she said. “I just knew there had to be something more. Let me go speak with him. He may just not be able to tell you everything. Plus, I know him better. I could maybe cut through some of his runarounds. Let him know he is still loved. That might be all he needs. Just to know we aren’t mad at him.” There was such abject hope in her voice and already I could see her spiraling into seeing the best out of him once. She had missed the part where even if Milo was being coerced, it was going to require more than love to pull him through.
Rounding the corner, I tried not to think about it. I wanted so desperately to assure her that by the end of the night, everything would be fine. That her, Milo and I, would be sitting around a table, playing cards. That Malcolm would be there too. That somehow, //somehow//, this would all work.
“Oh!” Hazel let out a little gasp as we nearly smacked into someone, both of us distracted by thoughts of Milo. The individual in question didn’t look as if he were dressed for the party and I wondered if he was a groundskeeper of some sort. He had dark skin that looked aged with hard work and was dressed in a simple set of trousers and a shirt that was woven together with various colored threads.
“Ms. Hazel.” His voice was deep as he spoke Hazel’s name, the likes of which was filled with awe. “It is wonderful to see you again.” His eyes ticked upwards towards the ballroom, the light from inside catching the forest green of his eyes. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
I glanced at Hazel, trying to gauge just how well she knew this man. “Laikin,” she said with an air of familiarity. I could tell she was confused to have run into him but the trepidation I saw in her when she had to confront someone outside of the apothecary was nowhere to be found. “I am. Well, actually. No. I’m not. Not that it’s not a pretty ball. It’s certainly more lavish than anywhere I’ve ever been.”
The man nodded, a fond smile on his face. There was something about it. The way he was looking. Like Hazel was one of the most enchanting people he knew. “I must admit I was surprised to see you here. Taliesin’s is not exactly a place of gentle kindness.”
“No,” Hazel agreed with a solemn nod. “But, I came here for a friend,” she said. Darting her eyes up to me, she squeezed my hand. I saw the way the man's eyes ticked towards our interwoven fingers. Somehow, his smile grew softer.
“Is this your….?”
[[Hazel and I are dating]]
[[Lover]]
[[Partner]]
I squeezed her hand. “I’m not sure what to think about what he said up there. It all felt rehearsed in a way. With moments of truth that shone through the cracks.” Milo had not felt like Milo. At least not the man I had come to know. The one who had cheated at cards and had crowed at his victories was not whoever was upon that balcony, lit cigarette in hand.
“My reaction would be to say that Milo is not a good liar,” Hazel said. “A good bullshitter, but not a good liar. But after the last few weeks…” she trailed off. After the last ten years, really. “Maybe I should go talk to him?” she said. “Soften him a bit. Maybe it was wrong of us to have you speak to him. It could have put him on the defense.”
I thought about what Milo had said. How he had known what Hazel was going to do. How hard the two of them had fought these last few months and the distance that had formed between them over Malcolm. Given time, I didn’t think Hazel would be looking at Milo with as much sympathy as she was now.
“I don’t know if you should,” I told her honestly. “He seems different.” Dangerous in a way. And while I was still convinced that Milo would die for Hazel, there was something in his gaze that didn’t make me comfortable. I no longer knew if I could trust them in the same room. Maybe it was Hazel’s reference to the omen earlier. Or perhaps it was my own paranoia. “Maybe in a little bit,” I suggested, trying to soften the fact that I was telling her no.
“Yeah,” Hazel reluctantly agreed, the hope in her fading a fraction. “Maybe after the ball, we could convince him to come home. I- I just think Milo needs to come home.”
Malcolm was at home though. Back and the apothecary, waiting for us. Hoping we would return. Milo wasn’t going to voluntarily return there. From the little bits of conversation between us, I got the distinct impression that he was avoiding the apothecary. Perhaps had been from the moment he heard that Malcolm was home. Being the Gatekeeper, he might have even felt his wayward lover step through.
I desperately wanted him to though. Not for me. But for Hazel. It was a weird hold that I knew she had over me and one that I wasn’t wishing to dismantle anytime soon. Her brand of softness and sweetness held such power, but it didn’t make the desire to hold her close and give her the world, any less tempting.
“Maybe,” I told her.
Rounding the corner, I tried not to think about it. I wanted so desperately to assure her that by the end of the night, everything would be fine. That her, Milo and I, would be sitting around a table, playing cards. That Malcolm would be there too. That somehow, //somehow//, this would all work.
“Oh!” Hazel let out a little gasp as we nearly smacked into someone, both of us distracted by thoughts of Milo. The individual in question didn’t look as if he were dressed for the party and I wondered if he was a groundskeeper of some sort. He had dark skin that looked aged with hard work and was dressed in a simple set of trousers and a shirt that was woven together with various colored threads.
“Ms. Hazel.” His voice was deep as he spoke Hazel’s name, the likes of which was filled with awe. “It is wonderful to see you again.” His eyes ticked upwards towards the ballroom, the light from inside catching the forest green of his eyes. “Are you enjoying the ball?”
I glanced at Hazel, trying to gauge just how well she knew this man. “Laikin,” she said with an air of familiarity. I could tell she was confused to have run into him but the trepidation I saw in her when she had to confront someone outside of the apothecary was nowhere to be found. “I am. Well, actually. No. I’m not. Not that it’s not a pretty ball. It’s certainly more lavish than anywhere I’ve ever been.”
The man nodded, a fond smile on his face. There was something about it. The way he was looking. Like Hazel was one of the most enchanting people he knew. “I must admit I was surprised to see you here. Taliesin’s is not exactly a place of gentle kindness.”
“No,” Hazel agreed with a solemn nod. “But, I came here for a friend,” she said. Darting her eyes up to me, she squeezed my hand. I saw the way the man's eyes ticked towards our interwoven fingers. Somehow, his smile grew softer.
“Is this your….?”
[[Hazel and I are dating]]
[[Lover]]
[[Partner]]
“Lover,” I said, stepping in for Hazel. Neither of us had discussed what exactly we were to each other but I didn’t think there was any harm in what I had said. “My name is $name.” I made sure to keep a hold of her hand, affirming this statement. There was something so nice about saying it out loud. The only other time I had said it was to Malcolm. When in reality, I wanted to shout it to the world.
“$name,” he repeated, logging it into his memory. “I am Laikin. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you. Can I just say I am thrilled to see dear Miss Hazel with someone so kind looking? It’s in your eyes. How long have you two been seeing each other?” Almost immediately he put up a hand, shaking his head and chuckling at himself. “I’m sorry. None of my business. I’m nosey by nature and I sometimes just get a little overly zealous about things. You two make a fine couple, though. A fine couple indeed.”
I smiled back at him, noting the way his eyes kept ticking back towards Hazel. His words were fast-paced and wove together smoothly as he spoke. There was a conversationalist in there somewhere and I had the distinct impression that he had a skill at making most people he met feel at ease.
“Are you attending the ball?” I asked him. Looking back and forth, I tried to spy if he was with anyone, or where he had even come from.
“Me?” He placed his hand across his heart and gave a hearty laugh. “No. No, this is not really my scene.” There was no explanation after that. We were in a back portion of the estate, deeper within the courtyard mazes. Unless this was a through way for the market, I didn’t see why he would even be here. “What is new, Hazel? It’s been almost a year since we spoke. You look happier. So much happier. Anything else happen? Anything of note?”
To say that his line of questioning was strange was an understatement and I knew that the way I was looking at him denoted just how odd I found this behavior to be. But he wasn’t paying much attention to me. And Hazel, well, Hazel also was getting caught up in it, bouncing on her feet slightly.
“Oh, actually, yes. Laikin, I got my brother back,” she said with an excited grin. “You remember me telling you he was dead? The Night Market returned him.”
“That is wonderful news,” he practically shouted in glee. Laikin was a tall man and so when he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet it was an intimidating sight to behold. While his smile had not once wavered, I couldn’t help but feel as if it were directed at me. Like his eyes were shifting behind a veil that I could not penetrate through.
“Well, I was going to go have a drink, just on at the edge of the garden. There is a wonderful little pumpkin patch there.”
“Is there really?” Hazel said excitedly. “I haven’t seen it.”
“Oh yes,” he said with wide eyes. “It is a rare variety. Splendid, really. Would you…” he trailed off, suddenly becoming hesitant. “Would you like to join me?”
Hazel was about to say yes. In fact, for the first time since leaving the apothecary, she looked at home in her own skin. Something about a pumpkin patch appealing far more to her than anything that a crystal drenched ballroom could provide.
“I want to finish my walk with, $name,” she said. “But I will try to find you before the night is through. It has been so long.”
“I would love that. I shant move from the pumpkin patch!” he said with a nervous tick of laughter. When his eyes came back to me, his smile was still in place as he nodded his head in respect. I didn’t know whether to nod back at him or give him a wide berth. He took the decision from my hands though as he stepped around us.
“I look forward to seeing you, Hazel. I am almost sure there is so much for you to tell me. So much for me to be proud of.”
Laikin disappeared around the corner before she could even respond.
[[That was odd]]
[[Please tell me you are not actually going to have a drink with him]]
[[Who was that?]]
“Partner,” I said, stepping in for Hazel. Neither of us had discussed what exactly we were to each other but I didn’t think there was any harm in what I had said. “My name is $name.” I made sure to keep a hold of her hand, affirming this statement. There was something so nice about saying it out loud. The only other time I had said it was to Malcolm. When in reality, I wanted to shout it to the world.
“$name,” he repeated, logging it into his memory. “I am Laikin. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you. Can I just say I am thrilled to see dear Miss Hazel with someone so kind looking? It’s in your eyes. How long have you two been seeing each other?” Almost immediately he put up a hand, shaking his head and chuckling at himself. “I’m sorry. None of my business. I’m nosey by nature and I sometimes just get a little overly zealous about things. You two make a fine couple, though. A fine couple indeed.”
I smiled back at him, noting the way his eyes kept ticking back towards Hazel. His words were fast-paced and wove together smoothly as he spoke. There was a conversationalist in there somewhere and I had the distinct impression that he had a skill at making most people he met feel at ease.
“Are you attending the ball?” I asked him. Looking back and forth, I tried to spy if he was with anyone, or where he had even come from.
“Me?” He placed his hand across his heart and gave a hearty laugh. “No. No, this is not really my scene.” There was no explanation after that. We were in a back portion of the estate, deeper within the courtyard mazes. Unless this was a through way for the market, I didn’t see why he would even be here. “What is new, Hazel? It’s been almost a year since we spoke. You look happier. So much happier. Anything else happen? Anything of note?”
To say that his line of questioning was strange was an understatement and I knew that the way I was looking at him denoted just how odd I found this behavior to be. But he wasn’t paying much attention to me. And Hazel, well, Hazel also was getting caught up in it, bouncing on her feet slightly.
“Oh, actually, yes. Laikin, I got my brother back,” she said with an excited grin. “You remember me telling you he was dead? The Night Market returned him.”
“That is wonderful news,” he practically shouted in glee. Laikin was a tall man and so when he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet it was an intimidating sight to behold. While his smile had not once wavered, I couldn’t help but feel as if it were directed at me. Like his eyes were shifting behind a veil that I could not penetrate through.
“Well, I was going to go have a drink, just on at the edge of the garden. There is a wonderful little pumpkin patch there.”
“Is there really?” Hazel said excitedly. “I haven’t seen it.”
“Oh yes,” he said with wide eyes. “It is a rare variety. Splendid, really. Would you…” he trailed off, suddenly becoming hesitant. “Would you like to join me?”
Hazel was about to say yes. In fact, for the first time since leaving the apothecary, she looked at home in her own skin. Something about a pumpkin patch appealing far more to her than anything that a crystal drenched ballroom could provide.
“I want to finish my walk with, $name,” she said. “But I will try to find you before the night is through. It has been so long.”
“I would love that. I shant move from the pumpkin patch!” he said with a nervous tick of laughter. When his eyes came back to me, his smile was still in place as he nodded his head in respect. I didn’t know whether to nod back at him or give him a wide berth. He took the decision from my hands though as he stepped around us.
“I look forward to seeing you, Hazel. I am almost sure there is so much for you to tell me. So much for me to be proud of.”
Laikin disappeared around the corner before she could even respond.
[[That was odd]]
[[Please tell me you are not actually going to have a drink with him]]
[[Who was that?]]
“I’m $name,” I said, stepping in for Hazel. Neither of us had discussed what exactly we were to each other but I didn’t think there was any harm in introducing myself. “Hazel and I are dating.” I made sure to keep a hold of her hand, affirming this statement. There was something so nice about saying it out loud. The only other time I had said it was to Malcolm. When in reality, I wanted to shout it to the world.
“$name,” he repeated, logging it into his memory. “I am Laikin. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you. Can I just say I am thrilled to see dear Miss Hazel with someone so kind looking? It’s in your eyes. How long have you two been seeing each other?” Almost immediately he put up a hand, shaking his head and chuckling at himself. “I’m sorry. None of my business. I’m nosey by nature and I sometimes just get a little overly zealous about things. You two make a fine couple, though. A fine couple indeed.”
I smiled back at him, noting the way his eyes kept ticking back towards Hazel. His words were fast-paced and wove together smoothly as he spoke. There was a conversationalist in there somewhere and I had the distinct impression that he had a skill at making most people he met feel at ease.
“Are you attending the ball?” I asked him. Looking back and forth, I tried to spy if he was with anyone, or where he had even come from.
“Me?” He placed his hand across his heart and gave a hearty laugh. “No. No, this is not really my scene.” There was no explanation after that. We were in a back portion of the estate, deeper within the courtyard mazes. Unless this was a through way for the market, I didn’t see why he would even be here. “What is new, Hazel? It’s been almost a year since we spoke. You look happier. So much happier. Anything else happen? Anything of note?”
To say that his line of questioning was strange was an understatement and I knew that the way I was looking at him denoted just how odd I found this behavior to be. But he wasn’t paying much attention to me. And Hazel, well, Hazel also was getting caught up in it, bouncing on her feet slightly.
“Oh, actually, yes. Laikin, I got my brother back,” she said with an excited grin. “You remember me telling you he was dead? The Night Market returned him.”
“That is wonderful news,” he practically shouted in glee. Laikin was a tall man and so when he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet it was an intimidating sight to behold. While his smile had not once wavered, I couldn’t help but feel as if it were directed at me. Like his eyes were shifting behind a veil that I could not penetrate through.
“Well, I was going to go have a drink, just on at the edge of the garden. There is a wonderful little pumpkin patch there.”
“Is there really?” Hazel said excitedly. “I haven’t seen it.”
“Oh yes,” he said with wide eyes. “It is a rare variety. Splendid, really. Would you…” he trailed off, suddenly becoming hesitant. “Would you like to join me?”
Hazel was about to say yes. In fact, for the first time since leaving the apothecary, she looked at home in her own skin. Something about a pumpkin patch appealing far more to her than anything that a crystal drenched ballroom could provide.
“I want to finish my walk with, $name,” she said. “But I will try to find you before the night is through. It has been so long.”
“I would love that. I shant move from the pumpkin patch!” he said with a nervous tick of laughter. When his eyes came back to me, his smile was still in place as he nodded his head in respect. I didn’t know whether to nod back at him or give him a wide berth. He took the decision from my hands though as he stepped around us.
“I look forward to seeing you, Hazel. I am almost sure there is so much for you to tell me. So much for me to be proud of.”
Laikin disappeared around the corner before she could even respond.
[[That was odd]]
[[Please tell me you are not actually going to have a drink with him]]
[[Who was that?]]
“That was odd,” I said, still staring at the spot that man had disappeared. “You know that was odd, right?”
“Was it?” Hazel frowned, obviously not seeing it.
“Hazel, I was afraid he was going to smile so hard that his face would break.” He couldn’t seem to stop, in fact. Especially when it came to her.
“Some people are just that way, $name.”
“No,” I said. “That was weird.”
Shaking her head, Hazel looked at me fondly. “He’s harmless,” she said. “I promise. I’ve known him since I was a child. Malcolm’s met him from time to time as well.”
“So you know him well?” I asked.
“I mean, no. Not really. I run into him once a year or so. We catch up and then go our separate ways. He’s always been really interested in my life. What I’ve been up to. If I’m happy.”
I just stared at her, willing her not to be so naive.
Hazel only laughed at the expression on my face. Stepping forward, she looped her arm within mine. “It’s fine,” she assured me. “He is just a kindly, lonely, old man. I probably remind him of his granddaughter or something.”
[[Hazel, that’s suspicious]]
[[And how long have you been taking tea with this stranger?]]
[[No, I guess it doesn’t matter]]
“Please tell me you are not actually going to have a drink with him,” I said, keeping my voice low. I was still not convinced the man was not lurking.
“Why not?” Hazel asked, confused. “I’ve had plenty with him before.”
“There was something off about him, Hazel. Like really off.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “Oh, $name. It’s fine. I’ve known him for years. Well, not really. Not know him know him, I guess. I just run into him about once a year and we chat for a while.”
“What does he do?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I guess I’ve never really asked. We play catch up every time we see each other, but the conversation is usually about me.”
I was staring at her. There was no way she couldn’t possibly find this normal. “Where does he live?”
Hazel laughed, pulling me close. “I don’t know, $name. Does it matter? He is just a kindly, lonely old man I occasionally have tea with.”
[[Hazel, that’s suspicious]]
[[And how long have you been taking tea with this stranger?]]
[[No, I guess it doesn’t matter]]
“Who was that?” I asked, watching the man go. I didn’t hear his footsteps upon the gemstone path as he retreated but when I looked around the corner, I didn’t see him lurking either.
“I don’t know really,” Hazel said. I looked at her in surprise. With the way those two had been speaking, I expected him to be a lifelong friend. “He is just someone I occasionally run into. Maybe once a year. He’s always just been so kind. Used to give Malcolm and I little treats when we were younger.”
“What does he do?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I guess I’ve never really asked. We play catch up every time we see each other, but the conversation is usually about me.”
I was staring at her. There was no way she couldn’t possibly find this normal. “Where does he live?”
Hazel laughed, pulling me close. “I don’t know, $name. Does it matter? He is just a kindly, lonely old man I occasionally have tea with.”
[[Hazel, that’s suspicious]]
[[And how long have you been taking tea with this stranger?]]
[[No, I guess it doesn’t matter]]
“Hazel, that entire encounter was suspicious. He’s not dressed for the ball. He admits this isn’t his kind of thing. And he just happens to run into you here after a year? You weren’t even going to show up tonight.”
“I think you are reading too much into this. I have taken tea with this man thirty or so times by now,” she said with a small laugh. “I don’t know where your mind is jumping to but don’t you think if something foul was taking place, it would have happened already?”
I paused at that. It was a point I couldn’t really discredit, and while I didn’t exactly feel comfortable, it was clear that Hazel was. Besides, I should have realized by now, Hazel could handle herself better than anyone in a situation.
“You’re right,” I said with a sigh. “Sorry. Tonight is just getting to me.” It was the lights and the music. The constant fluttering of skirts and tassels. And the overwhelming feeling of dread that was sitting like a rock in the pit of my stomach.
“Oh no.” Bending down, Hazel picked up a threadbare scarf. “Oh, I wonder if he dropped this.” It was handmade and knitted together much like his shirt had been. The various colored yarn wove together in a lopsided pattern and looked as if it was made by a child or a very hopelessly seamstress.
“Why don’t you go to the pumpkins,” I told her. I needed to trust her to take care of herself. Besides, I had a suspicion Milo would not be coming out. Not while Hazel was by my side. Coward.
“Are you sure?” Hazel had the scarf tucked close to her and was looking torn at my suggestion. No doubt wondering if she could get a hold of Milo herself and talk him down. But deep down, I think she knew he was avoiding her.
“I’m calmer now. I think I’ll be okay. Besides, I’m just going to take a loop around one of these gardens. Then I’ll go find Milo. Finish our talk.”
She nodded. “You’ll come find me after though, right? I don’t want you alone after all that. And if Milo wants to talk I want to be able to and…”
Leaning down, I kissed her. I felt her melt against me, her body going lax against mine. The familiar scent of garden dirt and basil was still on her skin, under a deep layer of hibiscus perfume. She smelled of home.
“Go,” I assured her. “Everything will be fine.”
“Come have tea with us later,” she whispered against my lips. I nodded my consent, if only because it wasn’t worth arguing about. Her smile stayed with me long after she rounded the corner.
[[Next|Hazel End 2]]
“And how long have you been taking tea with this stranger?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” She paused, truly trying to remember the first time she had met him. I could see her counting backwards but time in the Night Market was anything but linear and when it came down to it, I doubted Hazel even knew how old she really was. No one counted a true passage of years unless they had come from a culture that dictated one. Hazel had once told me that most people just often decided when their birthdays were and gave their friends about a month's notice.
“I really don’t remember,” she said after a moment. “I was young. Maybe five or six?”
It was a while. She had been taking tea with him far longer than I thought. Maybe she was right. If he truly was someone that meant malice towards her, he probably would have done something by now.
“Oh no.” Bending down, Hazel picked up a threadbare scarf. “Oh, I wonder if he dropped this.” It was handmade and knitted together much like his shirt had been. The various colored yarn wove together in a lopsided pattern and looked as if it was made by a child or a very hopelessly seamstress.
“Why don’t you go to the pumpkins,” I told her. I needed to trust her to take care of herself. Besides, I had a suspicion Milo would not be coming out. Not while Hazel was by my side. Coward.
“Are you sure?” Hazel had the scarf tucked close to her and was looking torn at my suggestion. No doubt wondering if she could get a hold of Milo herself and talk him down. But deep down, I think she knew he was avoiding her.
“I’m calmer now. I think I’ll be okay. Besides, I’m just going to take a loop around one of these gardens. Then I’ll go find Milo. Finish our talk.”
She nodded. “You’ll come find me after though, right? I don’t want you alone after all that. And if Milo wants to talk I want to be able to and…”
Leaning down, I kissed her. I felt her melt against me, her body going lax against mine. The familiar scent of garden dirt and basil was still on her skin, under a deep layer of hibiscus perfume. She smelled of home.
“Go,” I assured her. “Everything will be fine.”
“Come have tea with us later,” she whispered against my lips. I nodded my consent, if only because it wasn’t worth arguing about. Her smile stayed with me long after she rounded the corner.
[[Next|Hazel End 2]]
“No,” I said slowly, “I guess it doesn’t matter.” The lights from the ball had gotten me wound up in such a way that I knew I was probably just reading into the situation. Hazel had a life before me. Only recently had we become close in the grand scheme of it all.
“Oh no.” Bending down, Hazel picked up a threadbare scarf. “Oh, I wonder if he dropped this.” It was handmade and knitted together much like his shirt had been. The various colored yarn wove together in a lopsided pattern and looked as if it was made by a child or a very hopelessly seamstress.
“Why don’t you go to the pumpkins,” I told her. I needed to trust her to take care of herself. Besides, I had a suspicion Milo would not be coming out. Not while Hazel was by my side. Coward.
“Are you sure?” Hazel had the scarf tucked close to her and was looking torn at my suggestion. No doubt wondering if she could get a hold of Milo herself and talk him down. But deep down, I think she knew he was avoiding her.
“I’m calmer now. I think I’ll be okay. Besides, I’m just going to take a loop around one of these gardens. Then I’ll go find Milo. Finish our talk.”
She nodded. “You’ll come find me after though, right? I don’t want you alone after all that. And if Milo wants to talk I want to be able to and…”
Leaning down, I kissed her. I felt her melt against me, her body going lax against mine. The familiar scent of garden dirt and basil was still on her skin, under a deep layer of hibiscus perfume. She smelled of home.
“Go,” I assured her. “Everything will be fine.”
“Come have tea with us later,” she whispered against my lips. I nodded my consent, if only because it wasn’t worth arguing about. Her smile stayed with me long after she rounded the corner.
[[Next|Hazel End 2]]
Leaning against the hedges, I closed my eyes. I wanted this night to be over. The comfort of the apothecary was something I suddenly longed for. It was funny, really. Because only months ago it had felt so strange. Everything about this life and this world had felt strange. At some point, however, I had sunk into it all. Let it wrap around me in a sometimes uncomfortable embrace.
“So Hazel actually came.” Milo’s voice sounded from the dark. “She must really care for you.” It was said sadly, as if he were hoping that that wouldn’t be the case. “Honestly, $name,” he laughed. “The only thing I think she loves more is that damn cat of hers. Maybe Mal. Though I notice she brought Billows with her tonight instead of Mal. Which, might be more of a commentary on Malcolm than anything else.”
It all felt like a game with him. One elaborate game that he was orchestrating and I was expected to keep up with. But I had played many games with Milo over the months. And he always cheated. “She didn’t bring Billows with her,” I told him tiredly.
At this, he looked genuinely surprised. “Yes she did.”
“Milo, I was just talking to her. The cat was nowhere nearby.” Billows was back at the apothecary. Probably with express instructions to make sure Malcolm didn’t move.
“Maybe not now but I saw the thing when I was up on the balcony. He came darting in all cracked out seconds after Hazel entered the gates.”
I shrugged, not sure why we were even focusing on this line of conversation. It wouldn’t surprise me if Billows had followed Hazel. Maybe even upon Malcolm’s request. Sounded like something the cat would do. Billows was practically Hazel’s comfort item and he was far more aware than a normal animal should have been.
“Are you ready to finish our talk?” I asked, turning to finally look at Milo. The damn cigarette was perched in his mouth and I wondered just how many he had gone through by now.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just not here.” Tipping his head towards a secluded gemstone path, he began walking. With little option in front of me, I followed.
He led me back up a set of gold lined steps and off to the side. We wound our way away from the ballroom and the dancers within. Away from our friends who were patiently waiting for my signal, or to hear me scream. When we rounded a corner, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the gel hold that he had it all in. Then, digging a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it with a snap of his fingers.
“You have magic?” I asked.
He looked down at what he did, as if he hadn’t realized it. “Oh. Yeah. I’m fae. New to me too, so that one's not a lie.”
The trees and bushes around us glinted in the light of the moon. They shone sharply, sharp cuts of glass. Nothing was made from the earth. Everything was a mimicry. We stopped in front of a fountain. One made of abalone. A mermaid perched in the middle, a conch shell cradled in her arm like a child. The water spilled from her embrace to feed the koi below, a deep well of sorrow churning at her feet.
[[I need you to tell me what is going on so we can fix this]]
[[Are you ready to tell the truth or would you like to lie some more?]]
[[Milo, be straight with me. What is going on?]]
Thank you everyone for reading the Night Market. This was a little over a year of love and labor and you should absolutely go check out the credits page to see who all has contributed to this. If you wish to continue to see what I am doing, or just want more Night Market content, please subscribe to my Patreon or look me up on Tumblr.
The Night Market will continue in a second book.
Coming Fall of 2023
With much love,
Zinnia
<a data-passage="Introduction" class="link-internal link-image">
<img src="images/Transparent cover.png"
height="500" width="900">
</a>\
Welcome to the Night Market. An interactive romance fiction novel in which you awaken to a lantern filled world with no memory of how you got there. Desperate to get home, you must find the gate that leads back to your world, while navigating a foreign land, rife with political intrigue, arbitrary rules and secrets designed to keep you distracted. Nine barons rule the market, a place so vast that not even they can truly know its scope. But, one baron holds the key to your safe return home. Yet, no one has seen or heard from him in over a decade.
With a cast of characters, you will make political ties, undergo seedy jobs, and discover the secrets of a market that only exists to those who are invited. Fall in love, make lasting friendships, and shape the direction of your NPC’s lives through a series of choices. Will you end your journey within the Night Market with a daring escape? Or, will you be forever lost beneath the swaying lamplight, falling victim to the call of a world where the sun will never rise.
Warnings:
This story may not be suitable for minors and should be read with discretion. The Night Market contains adult language, violence, and sexual situations. It is intended for an adult audience. The Night Market may contain scenes and scenarios triggering to readers and should be read with caution.
[[Welcome to the Night Market|Introduction]]
I listened. Like the good little partner I was, I was going to listen to her no matter the ache that it brought me. I tried not to look out of the corn of my eye as I heard the cloth dip down into the water. Tried not to imagine it trailing up her naked body. Instead, I walked over to the fireplace and took a few of the birch logs she kept there, tossing them into the flame. The room sparked with a vibrate black and purple blaze before settling down again.
When Belladonna’s naked body was pressed against my back, her hand dipping down between my legs, I gasped. “Good little dove,” she cooed, beginning to stroke me. I felt my back arch, paralyzed in her hold. The press of her fangs was just against my fluttering pulse and I felt myself widen my legs in response. Shamelessly, Belladonna rubbed up against me, her free hand coming up to wrap around my neck, keeping my eyes straight forward.
“I will have to reward you soon,” she said. “Such manners deserve sweet treats. Perhaps you would like to spend dinner on your knees. I could feed you,” she whispered. “Spread my thighs and let you feast.”
I felt her fangs graze against my skin and then she was gone. The sound of the bath and the displaced water barely a slip within the room. When I turned, she was washing herself behind the partition while my heart beat loudly within the room.
For a moment, I was sure it hadn’t even happened. That I went into some strange fugue state and dreamed it all. But when I saw her crimson hair spill across the back of the tub, a tantalizing view of her creamy skin coming into play, I knew.
“You smell delicious, my heart,” she called out. “Keep focusing on the fire.”
At this point, I was willing to do just about anything for her. Which, I had a suspicion, was just how she wanted me.
[[Two weeks later...|Chapter Twelve 1]]I had never been one to listen. Ignoring both her orders and the fire, I walked around the partition, stripping my clothes as I went. I crawled into the bath, the steam from the water wafting around me in the sweet smell of jasmine. A smile curled around Belladonna’s lips as she looked my body up and down appreciatively.
“Dear heart,” she admonished. “This was not what I requested.”
I sunk down into the obsidian tub, the size of which barely fit the two of us. Especially because Belladonna kept her legs spread. The bubbles and oil from her soap hid her from view, however.
“The thought of leaving you behind here while I stoke a fire is not exactly something I can stand,” I told her.
She laughed, pulling me towards her, placing me so I settled against her chest. She ran a soft rag up and down my chest, dipping tantalizingly low beneath the water and teasing me. I felt my heart thud against my chest as I tried not to squirm against her. She pressed her bare chest against my back though, a touch I was now becoming intimately familiar with.
“But you must,” she murmured. “How am I supposed to continue on with my day if I have to worry about such disobedience with you?”
“Somehow, I think you’ll survive.” I jumped as she pinched the outside of my thigh before pulling me flush against her, nails gripping me tight.
“Oh, you are going to be fun to punish when naughty,” she cooed. “Tell me, dove. Can you hold your breath?”
I was panting, face flushed, my mind spinning. “I don’t actually know.”
“We will have to test that then.” Gently, she turned me around, twisting me until I was on my hands and knees. Then, raising her legs, she raised a brow to me, her eyes ticking downwards. “Get to work.”
Dipping my head between her legs, I practiced how long I could hold my breath for.
[[Two weeks later...|Chapter Twelve 1]]“Did you know he was here the entire time?” I asked, turning my gaze entirely to him. This was his home. Looking around the room I could see the little signs of Malcolm. All having been enshrined in this tomb while he was gone. Except, apparently not. The little home that had been sheltered away from the rest of the world had become Milo’s hideout. Malcolm hadn’t been back here. He had been far too weak to make his way downstairs most mornings. There was no way he had come here. And yet, it was like he knew.
Leaning heavily against the back of the sofa, Malcolm took a few deep breaths. Pain lashed across his features, the walk here obviously too much. But after a moment, he composed himself, looking at me through sweaty lashes. “I had a hunch.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” We had been looking for him non-stop. Gabriel and Belladonna had people practically hunting him through the streets.
“I didn’t think of it,” he said. “That, and I didn’t think he was stupid enough to go here until we just couldn’t find him. Then I realized that my place was one of the few places we hadn’t looked.”
I slumped against the kitchen counter, the invitation still in my hand. “You should have told me.”
“I know,” he said, regret clearly in his words. “I just– It’s Milo. I was hoping he would come to us. Come to me. But I can see that I was wrong on that one.”
[[I understand. I would have done the same]]
[[That does not matter. Are you siding with him or us]]
[[You can’t talk about telling the truth and then lie]]
“I’m not going,” I said, slapping the card down. “He can come to us.” I was done playing Milo’s game. The entire runaround with the Gatekeeper had been Milo’s game. We had played into his hands several times already and I would be damned if I was going to do it again.
Malcolm looked as if he understood the frustration. He also looked tired. The walk had taken it out of him, his body shaking with the exertion. “I want the same thing. But you and I both know that it's not going to happen that way.”
“Why not? Why are we doing this, Malcolm? If we go to this ball then all that’s going to happen is we dance his dance.”
“Lamplight, I hear you. I really do. And normally, I would agree with you. Taking the choice away from Milo is always the best option but I really don’t know what to do here. I’ve been racking my brain for the last few days and I don’t know how to force his hand.”
Malcolm was supposed to be the forced hand. <<if $miloro == "true">> //I// was supposed to be the forced hand. <</if>> Hazel as well. Yet, he had stayed as far away as possible. I wanted to take the invitation and tear it in two. I wanted to scream into the market until I was hoarse and Milo showed up again. I wanted to sit in a corner somewhere, unmoving, not allowing his plan to come to fruition.
But, the carrot that he dangled in front of us was too great. He was going to be at this ball. He was giving the opportunity to talk. We just had to make sure there was no way he could possibly run.
Slumping onto the couch, Malcolm sighed. “When is the ball?”
I glanced down at the card stock in my hand. “You’re not going.” There was no way Malcolm was up for attending the ball and part of me wondered if Milo knew that. If this was all just another elaborate ruse to get him out of the way.
“I’ll figure something out. Hazel I’m sure will have something she can give me. If he’s up to some weird little game of his, I want to be there. He’s a bad liar if you know what to look for.”
I shook my head. “Malcolm, you can barely stand. Hazel is not going to condone you going to the ball. And neither am I.” Stepping forward, I came to sit by his side. <<if $miloro == "true">> “And you forget. I know him too.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “My tactics may not be the same, but I’m not going to let him continue on like this.<</if>>
Steepling his fingers, Malcolm leaned forward, blinking out at the dead garden on the other side of the enchanted windows. “I just don’t get it,” he said into his fingers. “I have a feeling he’s about to do something incredibly stupid and I can’t figure out what has him so backed into a corner that he would act like this.”
I ran my thumb across the spilled ink. Milo’s handwriting blazed on the other side of the card. “Only one way to find out,” I said. It did little to make either of us feel better.
[[Next|The ball]]
“So this is it then,” I said numbly. “We’ll have our answers.”
Malcolm didn’t respond. He only looked at me with growing apprehension. The same kind of apprehension that I felt gnawing at the pit of my stomach.
“We’ll have our answers,” he said.
Turning, I looked at him, the invitation limp in my hand. “You don’t sound as if you agree.”
“It just can’t be this easy.”
“I wouldn’t call this easy.” It was elaborate. More elaborate than I thought Milo was capable of. A grand ball certainly didn’t seem like his thing.
Malcolm looked tired, the deep smudges beneath his eyes standing out on his tanned skin. As he slumped down onto the couch, I saw the way he shook.
“You shouldn’t have walked here,” I told him admonishing.
“Probably not.” There was a groan that hissed out between his teeth. “But, the chance to see Milo and ask him what the fuck it is he thinks he’s doing was far too great.” It was a testament to how tired he was. Malcolm didn’t strike me as the kind of man who cursed. “When does it say the ball is?”
I glanced down at the card stock in my hand. “You’re not going.” There was no way Malcolm was up for attending the ball and part of me wondered if Milo knew that. If this was all just another elaborate ruse to get him out of the way.
“I’ll figure something out. Hazel I’m sure will have something she can give me. If he’s up to some weird little game of his, I want to be there. He’s a bad liar if you know what to look for.”
I shook my head. “Malcolm, you can barely stand. Hazel is not going to condone you going to the ball. And neither am I.” Stepping forward, I came to sit by his side. <<if $miloro == "true">> “And you forget. I know him too.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “My tactics may not be the same, but I’m not going to let him continue on like this.<</if>>
Steepling his fingers, Malcolm leaned forward, blinking out at the dead garden on the other side of the enchanted windows. “I just don’t get it,” he said into his fingers. “I have a feeling he’s about to do something incredibly stupid and I can’t figure out what has him so backed into a corner that he would act like this.”
I ran my thumb across the spilled ink. Milo’s handwriting blazed on the other side of the card. “Only one way to find out,” I said. It did little to make either of us feel better.
[[Next|The ball]]
“That means nothing,” I said, feeling my anger mount. “You are either siding with him or us.”
“I’m not siding with both of you,” he said, eyes darkening. “Lamplight, Milo may be doing something stupid but he is also my family. I am not giving up on him until it proves detrimental not to do so. But just because I feel that way, does not mean I am not here for you. For the others. That I don’t want to get to the bottom of this as much as the rest of you.”
“Then why keep this?” I asked, arms helpless at my side. We had been looking for him to near exhaustion. Gabriel and Belladonna both had their people canvasing the stress.
“I wanted him to come to us,” he said. “I thought after he had a few days to think about things and if we didn’t find him, he would show up at the apothecary like he always has. Milo is many things but he knows when he is in over his head and he seeks out help. The fact that he’s not…” with a grunt of pain, he sat down on his sofa, breathing heavily.
“You shouldn’t have walked here,” I told him. "None of this should have even happened."
“I wasn’t about to let you face him alone. And as for me not telling you?" he shook his head. "There isn't sides in this situation. You start thinking that way and we're going to have a war on our hands. That will serve no one. Now," he hissed as he shifted, an invisible wound at his side pulling. "When is the ball?"
I glanced down at the card stock in my hand. “You’re not going. Not like you are.” There was no way Malcolm was up for attending the ball and part of me wondered if Milo knew that. If this was all just another elaborate ruse to get him out of the way.
“I’ll figure something out. Hazel I’m sure will have something she can give me. If he’s up to some weird little game of his, I want to be there. He’s a bad liar if you know what to look for.”
I shook my head. “Malcolm, you can barely stand. Hazel is not going to condone you going to the ball. And neither am I.” Stepping forward, I came to sit by his side. <<if $miloro == "true">> “And you forget. I know him too.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “My tactics may not be the same, but I’m not going to let him continue on like this.<</if>>
Steepling his fingers, Malcolm leaned forward, blinking out at the dead garden on the other side of the enchanted windows. “I just don’t get it,” he said into his fingers. “I have a feeling he’s about to do something incredibly stupid and I can’t figure out what has him so backed into a corner that he would act like this.”
I ran my thumb across the spilled ink. Milo’s handwriting blazed on the other side of the card. “Only one way to find out,” I said. It did little to make either of us feel better.
[[Next|The ball]]
“You cannot sit at your sisters, preaching to them about the secrets they kept, and then lie to me about this,” I said.
“Lamplight, I was not intentionally lying to you. I thought–” he sighed. “I stupidly thought he would have relented. That after a few days he would have been found because he wasn’t actually hiding, or he would come forward and talk to us. I didn’t think… Fuck,” he muttered with a burst of anger, reaching out for the nearest object and throwing it against the wall. It was a blue vase with intricate white patterns. It now lay in a broken mess by his bookshelf.
"You kept this from me, Malcolm," I stated. "No matter which way you spin it, you kept this from me."
The naked frusteration and guilt in his eyes was a palpable sorrow within the room. "I didn't even think of it until today. I didn't think he would come here. That he would be so stupid. This," he said, geasturing around the room. "Was my hail mary. And honestly, I really wish that we had found nothing and I was wrong." With a grunt of pain, he sat down on his sofa, breathing heavily.
“You shouldn’t have walked here,” I told him admonishingly. "And from here on out, if you think there is a //possibility// of you knowing something about our situation, //say something//."
He nodded. "That's fair. That's more than fair. And, I'm sorry." Closing his eyes, he swallowed. "When is the ball? Do we have enough time to prepare?"
I glanced down at the card stock in my hand. “You’re not going.” There was no way Malcolm was up for attending the ball and part of me wondered if Milo knew that. If this was all just another elaborate ruse to get him out of the way.
“I’ll figure something out. Hazel I’m sure will have something she can give me. If he’s up to some weird little game of his, I want to be there. He’s a bad liar if you know what to look for.”
I shook my head. “Malcolm, you can barely stand. Hazel is not going to condone you going to the ball. And neither am I.” Stepping forward, I came to sit by his side. <<if $miloro == "true">> “And you forget. I know him too.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “My tactics may not be the same, but I’m not going to let him continue on like this.<</if>>
Steepling his fingers, Malcolm leaned forward, blinking out at the dead garden on the other side of the enchanted windows. “I just don’t get it,” he said into his fingers. “I have a feeling he’s about to do something incredibly stupid and I can’t figure out what has him so backed into a corner that he would act like this.”
I ran my thumb across the spilled ink. Milo’s handwriting blazed on the other side of the card. “Only one way to find out,” I said. It did little to make either of us feel better.
[[Next|The ball]]
I couldn’t blame him. Not really. <<if $miloro == "true">> I would have done the same in his position. Angry at him for going about this in all the wrong ways but still wanting to protect him. Because no one else in this world wanted to. No one else really had. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> Malcolm didn’t know me. He didn’t know what I would do if I had access to Milo. If I could just run off and accuse him of secrets. He probably hadn’t wanted to tell me anything until he got to know me better. Despite being Lamplight and Gatekeeper, we were still strangers. <</if>>
“I’m sorry,” he told me. “The last thing I want to do is be duplicitous.” I could see the frustration on his face. He really had thought Milo would just show. Turn himself in somehow. Knowing that he had been here all along was a slap to the face. The invitation the final straw.
“Fuck,” he muttered with a burst of anger, reaching out for the nearest object and throwing it against the wall. It was a blue vase with intricate white patterns. It now lay in a broken mess by his bookshelf. “I want to trust that he is doing this for a reason but…” with a grunt of pain, he sat down on his sofa, breathing heavily.
“You shouldn’t have walked here,” I told him.
“I wasn’t about to let you face him alone.”
I glanced down at the card stock in my hand. “You’re going to have to.” There was no way Malcolm was up for attending the ball and part of me wondered if Milo knew that. If this was all just another elaborate ruse to get him out of the way.
“I’ll figure something out. Hazel I’m sure will have something she can give me. If he’s up to some weird little game of his, I want to be there. He’s a bad liar if you know what to look for.”
I shook my head. “Malcolm, you can barely stand. Hazel is not going to condone you going to the ball. And neither am I.” Stepping forward, I came to sit by his side. <<if $miloro == "true">> “And you forget. I know him too.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “My tactics may not be the same, but I’m not going to let him continue on like this.<</if>>
Steepling his fingers, Malcolm leaned forward, blinking out at the dead garden on the other side of the enchanted windows. “I just don’t get it,” he said into his fingers. “I have a feeling he’s about to do something incredibly stupid and I can’t figure out what has him so backed into a corner that he would act like this.”
I ran my thumb across the spilled ink. Milo’s handwriting blazed on the other side of the card. “Only one way to find out,” I said. It did little to make either of us feel better.
[[Next|The ball]]My heart raced with a steady beat against the center of my chest. I felt my world spinning as I blindly walked back to Hazel’s. Ariel had said that memories would come back in time. That it would take effort but I could regain access to my whole self. Eventually. But it would hurt. It could leave me shaken and vulnerable. Trying to access the entirety of the market might not be what I wanted in the end.
But, she assured me, the Fates work in absolutes, and what she was telling me was simple variations that she could see. Ultimately, this one was up to me. I had control. I didn’t know if I believed her or not but she said that the tapestry had been hung and she already knew how it would end.
The revelation left me feeling sick.
Halfway down the alley I felt the bile rise in my throat. I stumbled, bracing myself against the burnt walls and feeling the contents of my stomach splatter against the cobblestone floor. I felt tears prick my eyes as a dry sob echoed around me. I was the Night Market. The world was splitting in two and if we did not do something to stop it, I was going to die. The knowledge of my imminent death shook me to my core. But not only that, the knowledge of everyone else's demise suddenly felt like an oppressive weight upon my shoulders. The gates to this world, to me, had opened to provide shelter for the lost and hopeless. And if I couldn’t figure out our next move, I was signing them all to death anyway.
Wrapping my arms around my middle, I let myself cry. I let the sorrow and the fear course through me, leaving my cheeks blotchy and my voice raw.
The Night Market.
I hoped if maybe I repeated it enough, it would suddenly make sense. That it would become a tidal wave threatening to drown me.
So far, the name only felt like a hopeless void, sucking me into the blackness along with the rest of the world.
Straightening, I wiped my cheeks and looked towards the curled smoke of the apothecary down the alley. I had to keep going. It didn’t matter what my feelings were. I just had to keep going. I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, willing my heart to calm. One day, maybe I’d even succeed.
Opening the door I trudged up to the upper floor. Hazel stood in the kitchen, washing up a cup of tea, still looking tired and worn. Her head lifted as I came through the door, a small amount of relief flickering across her.
“$name,” she breathed. “Did you find him?”
I had forgotten that I was looking for Milo. The distillery where I had been headed towards was a path that had been marked so long ago and one that I had quickly abandoned. Because fate had led me to answers. To the man that had them all. To me.
My heart beat faster. I still didn’t know if I understood.
The clanging of the tea cup as it was set down echoed through the room as Hazel hesitantly came forward. “$name?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
Before I could answer, the bedroom door opened. Malcolm stood, leaning heavily in the doorway, his cheeks pale and his hair hanging around his face. He looked at me though, a sign of relief visible across his lips.
“Hey Lamplight,” he grinned.
Sinking down onto the sofa, I closed my eyes.
“Lamplight? Malcolm, what are you…?”
“Hazel,” Malcolm said gently. “You might want to sit down. There’s a lot that we need to talk about.”
“But,” I heard her protest. “Where’s Milo?”
[[Chapter Twelve]]My heart raced with a steady beat against the center of my chest. I felt my world spinning as I blindly walked back to Hazel’s. Ariel had said that memories would come back in time. That it would take effort but I could regain access to my whole self. Eventually. But it would hurt. It could leave me shaken and vulnerable. Trying to access the entirety of the market might not be what I wanted in the end.
But, she assured me, the Fates work in absolutes, and what she was telling me was simple variations that she could see. Ultimately, this one was up to me. I had control. I didn’t know if I believed her or not but she said that the tapestry had been hung and she already knew how it would end.
It just didn’t make sense. None of it. How could I be the Night Market? A living and breathing individual walking the very streets that made up the bones of my body? It was a paradox that couldn’t possibly exist and I wasn’t sure how to go about even coming to terms with what it all meant.
If I was the Night Market, why did I have so little control? Why was I even here? And didn’t me being here cause problems for the world itself? Was that why I was tearing apart? It was enough to make my head ache as more questions began to spiral around me, pain piercing my skull with the onslaught of another headache. I forced myself to keep moving, however. To get to Hazel’s. Nothing would be solved in the burnt out husk of apothecary alley.
Opening the door I trudged up to the upper floor. Hazel stood in the kitchen, washing up a cup of tea, still looking tired and worn. Her head lifted as I came through the door, a small amount of relief flickering across her.
“$name,” she breathed. “Did you find him?”
I had forgotten that I was looking for Milo. The distillery where I had been headed towards was a path that had been marked so long ago and one that I had quickly abandoned. Because fate had led me to answers. To the man that had them all. To me.
My heart beat faster. I still didn’t know if I understood.
The clanging of the tea cup as it was set down echoed through the room as Hazel hesitantly came forward. “$name?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
Before I could answer, the bedroom door opened. Malcolm stood, leaning heavily in the doorway, his cheeks pale and his hair hanging around his face. He looked at me though, a sign of relief visible across his lips.
“Hey Lamplight,” he grinned.
Sinking down onto the sofa, I closed my eyes.
“Lamplight? Malcolm, what are you…?”
“Hazel,” Malcolm said gently. “You might want to sit down. There’s a lot that we need to talk about.”
“But,” I heard her protest. “Where’s Milo?”
[[Chapter Twelve]]My heart raced with a steady beat against the center of my chest. I felt my world spinning as I blindly walked back to Hazel’s. Ariel had said that memories would come back in time. That it would take effort but I could regain access to my whole self. Eventually. But it would hurt. It could leave me shaken and vulnerable. Trying to access the entirety of the market might not be what I wanted in the end.
But, she assured me, the Fates work in absolutes, and what she was telling me was simple variations that she could see. Ultimately, this one was up to me. I had control. I didn’t know if I believed her or not but she said that the tapestry had been hung and she already knew how it would end.
I was angry. Of all the emotions I could have felt over this revelation, I was feeling nothing but anger. Not at my situation but at the world at large. At the people who walked this realm. So many of them treated the world in which they lived as a viable playground. A place for them to do their wrongs before retreating behind arbitrary rules. They came and went without thought to what they were doing, using me for their own selfish game. It made me feel sick. It made me feel used. But most of all, it made me thrum with anger.
Forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other, I continued down the burnt out alley to Hazel’s. The second I learned how to reconnect with myself, things around here were going to change. So many wished for the ability to influence the course of the world's fate. I actually had the power to.
Opening the door I trudged up to the upper floor. Hazel stood in the kitchen, washing up a cup of tea, still looking tired and worn. Her head lifted as I came through the door, a small amount of relief flickering across her.
“$name,” she breathed. “Did you find him?”
I had forgotten that I was looking for Milo. The distillery where I had been headed towards was a path that had been marked so long ago and one that I had quickly abandoned. Because fate had led me to answers. To the man that had them all. To me.
My heart beat faster. I still didn’t know if I understood.
The clanging of the tea cup as it was set down echoed through the room as Hazel hesitantly came forward. “$name?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
Before I could answer, the bedroom door opened. Malcolm stood, leaning heavily in the doorway, his cheeks pale and his hair hanging around his face. He looked at me though, a sign of relief visible across his lips.
“Hey Lamplight,” he grinned.
Sinking down onto the sofa, I closed my eyes.
“Lamplight? Malcolm, what are you…?”
“Hazel,” Malcolm said gently. “You might want to sit down. There’s a lot that we need to talk about.”
“But,” I heard her protest. “Where’s Milo?”
[[Chapter Twelve]]“Constantly,” I confessed. In the dark of night with only the wisps to light the way, I felt fear overwhelming me. It soaked into my bones and ran through my blood. I didn’t know how I was standing, most days. How I was just walking through life and coming down to ancient ruins beneath the city. The only thing that seemed to keep me going was the fear of suffocating in the dark.
Dirty fingers reached out to trace across the back of my hand. Little flowers bloomed against my skin, painting faint lines across my arm. Pale petals of forget me nots and wisteria inched in the wake of her touch.
“I’ll always be here,” she said. “If you want to talk. If the fear becomes too much.”
“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself. “You don’t even know me.” And I didn’t know her.
“Why should that matter? Human suffering shouldn’t just be saved for those that you know well. Sometimes, it is easier to lean on someone you don’t know.” I didn’t know how much truth I found in all that, but the sentiment was nice to hear. At least when it came from Hazel.
“Are you doing alright with all this?” Hazel asked me.
“I honestly don’t know if it’s all hit me yet,” I told her.
“It is a lot,” she agreed. “But I wanted to thank you. You didn’t have to come down here today. You didn’t have to listen to anything Belladonna or Gabriel said back at the shop. You didn’t have to be kind to me. To Milo. But you were. Not many people are like that, $name. I need you to know how special that makes you.”
I stared at her, her skirts flowing out around her. One of the wisps was tugging at a tonic at her skirt.
[[You’re welcome]]
[[I will always help you]]
[[You’re special too (kiss her and start a romance with Hazel)]]“Fear is for the weak,” I told her. I wasn’t afraid. Frustrated. Angry sometimes. Confused most of the time. But I refused to give into fear.
“Oh,” she said, pulling a way a bit. “Yeah. I get that.”
Suddenly, I felt my heart stutter. Hazel was ruled by fear. She didn’t like leaving the shop without the fail safe of a spell or construct. She lived in the shadow of her mother and brother. Even when customers came in, I could see the way she tensed.
“Hazel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“No,” she assured me. “You’re probably right. I do live in fear. Too much, most would say. It’s stupid of me.”
“Hey, no.” I shook my head vehemently. “No, Hazel. I don’t view you as weak. I misspoke. I think, sometimes, I just can’t let the fear get to me. Or else it might be all I feel.” I didn’t want to have it soak within my bones and control every ounce of my waking moments. The very thought of it doing so just made me want to fight.
Silence fell between us with only the skittering of small beetles sounding around us as they crawled up little bits of thick bladed grass, tumbling to the dirt with a shrill laugh.
“Are you doing alright with all this?” Hazel asked me. "I know you say fear is for the weak but..."
“I honestly don’t know if it’s all hit me yet,” I told her.
“It is a lot,” she agreed. “But I wanted to thank you. You didn’t have to come down here today. You didn’t have to listen to anything Belladonna or Gabriel said back at the shop. You didn’t have to be kind to me. To Milo. But you were. Not many people are like that, $name. I need you to know how special that makes you.”
I stared at her, her skirts flowing out around her. One of the wisps was tugging at a tonic at her skirt.
[[You’re welcome]]
[[I will always help you]]
[[You’re special too (kiss her and start a romance with Hazel)]]“I try to think good thoughts,” I told her. “I get afraid but I try to replace each thought with something I like. Something that calms me.” A feat that was nearly impossible some days, given the limited amount of memories I could draw from.
“Does it work?” she asked, a tinge of hopefulness in her voice.
“Sometimes. Not all the time but it helps me get out of bed in the morning. And it certainly helps with days like today.” On the days that I didn’t understand what was going on, thinking of the things that actually made me smile, helped keep me going. The memory of my grandmother. Of her sage green quilt. The sound of the trickling brook in the back field of the apothecary. Hazel’s kindness. They all helped in their small little ways.
“I’ll have to try that next time,” she said quietly, coaxing small blue flowers to bloom beneath her fingers. “Are you doing alright with all this?” I looked at her, noticing the way she looked nervous even asking the question.
“I honestly don’t know if it’s all hit me yet,” I told her.
“It is a lot,” she agreed. “But I wanted to thank you. You didn’t have to come down here today. You didn’t have to listen to anything Belladonna or Gabriel said back at the shop. You didn’t have to be kind to me. To Milo. But you were. Not many people are like that, $name. I need you to know how special that makes you.”
I stared at her, her skirts flowing out around her. One of the wisps was tugging at a tonic at her skirt.
[[You’re welcome]]
[[I will always help you]]
[[You’re special too (kiss her and start a romance with Hazel)]]Grabbing my thighs, he dug his fingers into my skin, pushing the two of us up against the cliff wall as his lips moved down my neck, sucking tight bruises all along my flesh. I tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as he bit and licked, his movements excitable as he pressed firmly against me. Ringed hands trailed down across my body in light strokes, feeling each dip and curve, seeking out the places that made me shiver and the ones that caused my breath to hitch. I could feel my blood coursing through me, shivering as he lazily began to trail his lips down from my neck and across my chest, coming up on the other side to nip at my ear and breathe harshly against me. His legs entwined with mine as he scooted impossibly close, the spray from the waterfall rushing down across both of us until he inched us away from the onslaught above.
The sound of my heart thundered in my ears. I watched as Milo’s eyes closed, and he licked the beads of water from my skin. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he became lost in the pleasure of touching me, pulling me close, rubbing his body against my own until I was shaking at the feel of him against me. I felt my breath stutter as his fingers came to the apex of my thigh, teasing the skin there, before one warm hand wrapped around my hardening length.
“Fuck,” he whispered against my skin. “God, I wanted to touch you for so long. So fucking long.”
He stroked me firmly, dragging his thumb across the head of my cock. I felt a shudder go up my spine, the heat from my belly rising in a deep flush across my skin as he panted raggedly against me. Pressing my hands to his shoulders, I rolled my hips, feeling the length of him nudge against thigh, hot and hard and dragging deliciously across my hip. Milo’s pupils were blown, his eyes dark as he looked down at where he gripped me, watching the way I fit in the palm of his hand. Lips parted in a small pant, he curled his fingers, taking his time as he pumped his fist slowly up and down. I watched the tip of my erection pull against his palm, felt the way the rings of his hand caught against my skin. My belly tightened in need and I pulled my leg upwards to hook over his hip, giving him more access. A needy whine escaped Milo’s throat as he lunged forward, pressing his lips to mine. His tongue licked at the seam of my mouth, begging silently for me to open and plunging in when I allowed him access. With a hand curled in my hair, Milo kissed me like a man starving. Pressing me further against the rock wall until I could feel the jagged stone dig into my spine. I didn’t care. My heart was beating loudly against my chest and my hips were arching forward with the need for more friction.
I could feel the scratch of his beard against my chin, the way his body leaned forward, all firm muscle that he hid beneath a linen shirt and a pair of suspenders. Milo was hard and lethal in all the right places and I knew as I ran my hands down his muscled back, there was more to this man than he let the world see. It left me gasping against him and him smiling lewdly against my lips as he nipped at me.
“Got a question for you,” he whispered against me.
“Now?”
He chuckled, a low rumble that made me twitch against him. “It’s important,” he murmured. I looked at him incredulously, wondering how any question he had could be important at this moment in time. But his eyes were dancing, and his lips were puffy from our kiss. Licking his lips, he cocked his head to the side. “How long do you think I can hold my breath?”
He didn’t wait for the answer as he dropped beneath the surface of the water, dragging both my thighs up and over his shoulders. I scrambled to keep my balance, my hands sinking into the wet strands of hair that floated at the very surface of the pool. The water was cold and the night air around me even cooler as I was raised partially out of the water. But when Milo’s warm tongue snaked out and his lips wrapped around the head of my cock, I let my head fall back in a deep guttural moan.
Slowly, Milo began to bob his head, licking at the underside of my length, flicking his tongue across the vein. I felt a gasp shatter in my chest as he slowly eased himself forward, not stopping until I hit the back of his throat. When he swallowed, I squeezed his head in an effort not to lose control. I could almost imagine the chuckle he would give. The self-satisfied smirk. When his fingers grabbed my ass, his thumb catching on the puckered opening, I thought I would fall. He massaged the pad of his thumb against it, moaning around my length at the mere feel. He swallowed then, his throat reflexively contracting around my length as he desperately tried to get closer, his nose rubbing against my groin.
He continued to bob his head underwater, little bubbles coming up to spread across the surface, and while I was sure it was only seconds it felt like hours he was down there, holding his breath, breathing me in. Above me, the lanterns swirled in starlight and the water cascaded down in a reflective sheen against the rock. I felt my body tremble and my thighs shake.
When he came up for air, gasping and coughing, I grabbed him. I curled my fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him forward, so I could taste myself. Despite the water, I could smell the heady scent across his mouth, taste the bitterness on his tongue. The move had him clawing at me desperately, rutting hard against my thigh and letting out harsh little gasps that had him nearly whining for more.
“Turn around,” he panted against me.
I did without question, so consumed by the heat that surrounded us, the way the water splashed across our shoulders and hips. I was hard and desperate at this point, wanting to take anything he could give me. He pushed me to the side, to a shallower part of the pond, bending me forward across a cool stone. The water lapped just under my thighs, brushing against me and leaving trails of raised flesh in its wake. Behind me, I could feel Milo spread me open. When the flat heat of his tongue licked against my opening, I scrambled forward in surprise. He grabbed my hips though, tugging me back towards his mouth. Running a hand down my spine, he soothed me with a murmured hush, as he buried his face against me, licking long, wet stripes until I was dripping. When he pulled back, I could feel him shifting behind me and from over my shoulder, I could see him sucking his own fingers. The sight was filthy and had me swallowing convulsively, right before he eased one slick finger inside me, stretching me slowly.
“Tell me when it’s enough,” he groaned, easing a second inside me. I angled my hips backwards, rolling them against his hand, letting him take his time as he ran a tongue down the knobs of my spine. I tapped him when I was ready, barely able to trust the sound of my own voice.
I could feel when he angled himself behind me, the head of his red and swollen cock teasing against me. Draping himself across my back, his lips nipping against my ear, he held me firmly against the rock. My face was pressed against the stone, my eyes glazed and lips parted in a blissed out state. My own erection was weeping between my legs.
“Tell me if I need to go slow,” he whispered. When I nodded, I felt him begin to push in, pushing past the tight ring of muscle with a pop until he bottomed out. He moaned against my ear, his head dropping onto my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispered brokenly. “Oh fuck.”
Reaching behind me, I grasped the flank of his hip, digging my nails into his thigh and feeling the muscle flex beneath my fingers.
I could see him out of the corner of my eye. See the way he was biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut to keep control.
“Milo,” I whispered, my voice barely heard over the pounding in our ears and the sound of the water behind us. “More.”
He lost it then. Like a man possessed he pulled out, only to snap his hips forward. The grip he had on me was bruising, and yet I didn’t care. He continued to fuck me, rolling his hips to try and find that one little spot that would make me cry to the heavens. When he did, I arched my head back, pulling myself up, so I was kneeling. Grabbing me around the waist, Milo scooted forward until we were fully on the rock, positioning me until my back rested against his chest. With his head on my shoulder, he began to whisper filthily into my ear.
“Feel so good. So fucking good. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to get on my knees for you? Every time I fucking see you in that damn shop I think about it. Think about pulling you behind one of the shelves and sucking you dry. Taking you out back and laying you down to fuck you in the garden. Want to see you come undone. Want to see you dirty and panting and screaming my name. Would you like that? Want me to fuck you until you can’t even think straight anymore?”
My eyes rolled in the back of my head, my mouth parted as his hand trailed a slick trail down my belly, wrapping around me firmly.
“You’re gonna cum now,” he whispered. “You’re going to cum so hard and I’m gonna fuck you through it, yeah?”
I think I nodded. I didn’t know. All I was aware of was the drag across my weeping cock and the way Milo kept thrusting his hips forward, hitting that spot over and over again until I was nothing more than a writhing mess of want and need. When I did cum, it was with a loud cry. Behind me, I could feel Milo tense, his eyes watching me intensely as he worked every last drop from me. When I sagged in his arms he pushed me forward, snapping his hips against my own until I felt him shudder. Burying his head between my shoulder blades, he finally let go, holding me tight and shivering against my back.
[[Next|Aftercare]]
<<set $sex to "M">>Grabbing my thighs, he dug his fingers into my skin, pushing the two of us up against the cliff wall as his lips moved down my neck, sucking tight bruises all along my flesh. I tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as he bit and licked, his movements excitable as he pressed firmly against me. Ringed hands trailed across my body in light strokes, exploring each dip and curve, seeking out the places that made me shiver and the ones that caused me to suck in a deep breath. I could feel my blood coursing through me as he lazily trailed his lips down from my neck and across my chest, stopping to flick his tongue across the hardening bud of my breast, biting at it softly. He laved at the skin there, sucking greedily and cupping me in his callused palm. Slowly, he rose, trailing his nose up the side of my neck to nip at my ear, his own ragged breaths falling hot against my skin. His legs entwined with mine as he scooted impossibly close, the spray from the waterfall rushing down across both of us until he inched us away from it.
The sound of my heart thundered in my ears. I watched as Milo’s eyes closed, and he sucked beads of water from my skin. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he became lost in the pleasure of touching me, pulling me close, rubbing his body against my own until I was shaking at the feel of him against me. I felt my breath stutter as his fingers came to the apex of my thigh, dipping down to tease against my slick folds.
“Fuck,” he whispered against my skin. “God, I wanted to touch you for so long. So fucking long.”
Dragging his fingers across my clit, he let his thumb rub gentle circles against it, paying special attention to the way I twitched against him, my hips rolling when he got it just right. I felt a shudder go up my spine, the heat from my belly rising in a deep flush across my skin as he panted raggedly against me. Pressing my hands to his shoulders, I rolled my hips, feeling the length of him nudge against me, hot and hard and dragging deliciously across my hip. Milo’s pupils were blown, his eyes dark as he looked down at where his fingers continued to play, watching the way I squirmed against his hand. It was not enough and everything all at once and I felt my thighs squeezing together to gain more friction as I began rubbing myself against his open palm.
His lips parted in a small pant, as Milo curled his fingers, taking his time as he slowly began teasing me. He rolled the small bud between his fingers, pinching slightly, his eyes darkening as I gasped loudly, my voice bouncing against the rocks. My belly tightened in need and I pulled my leg upwards to hook over his hip, giving him more access. A needy whine escaped my throat and Milo lunged forward to swallow it. His tongue licked at the seam of my mouth, begging silently for me to open and plunging in when I allowed him access. With a hand curled in my hair, Milo kissed me like a man starving. Pressing me further against the rock wall until I could feel the jagged stone dig into my spine. I didn’t care. My heart was beating loudly against my chest and my hips were arching forward with the need for more friction.
I could feel the scratch of his beard against my chin, the way his body leaned forward, all firm muscle that he had hid beneath a linen shirt and a pair of suspenders. Milo was hard and lethal in all the right places and I knew as I ran my hands down his muscled back, there was more to this man than he let the world see. It left me gasping against him and him smiling lewdly against my lips as he nipped at me.
“Got a question for you,” he whispered against me.
“Now?”
He chuckled, a low rumble that made me twitch against him. “It’s important,” he murmured. I looked at him incredulously, wondering how any question he had could be important at this moment in time. But his eyes were dancing, and his lips were puffy from our kiss. Licking his lips, he cocked his head to the side. “How long do you think I can hold my breath?”
He didn’t wait for the answer as he dropped beneath the surface of the water, dragging both my thighs up and over his shoulders. I scrambled to keep my balance, my hands sinking into the wet strands of hair that floated at the very surface of the pool. The water was cold and the night air around me even cooler as I was raised partially out of the water. But when Milo’s warm tongue snaked out to drag across my opening, I let my head fall back in a deep guttural moan.
Slowly, Milo began to lick me open. Flattening his tongue to swipe across my clit before thrusting it deep inside. I felt a gasp shatter in my chest as he slowly pulled me forward, burying his nose deep within my folds. I could feel the shallow thrusts of his tongue and the way his fingers scooted forward, dangerously close to joining in. I squeezed his head between my thighs in an effort not to lose control. I could almost imagine the chuckle he would give. The self-satisfied smirk. When his fingers grabbed my ass, and he pulled me flush against his mouth, I thought I would fall. The vibrations of his moan coursed through me as he sucked and nipped, lapping at all I had to offer.
Little bubbles rose to the surface, and while I was sure it was only mere moments he was down there, it felt like hours that he was holding his breath, drinking me in. Above me, the lanterns swirled in starlight and the water cascaded down in a reflective sheen against the rock. I felt my body tremble and my thighs shake.
When he came up for air, gasping and coughing, I grabbed him. I curled my fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him forward, so I could taste myself. Despite the water, I could smell the heady scent across his mouth, taste the bitterness on his tongue. The move had him clawing at me desperately, rutting hard against my thigh and letting out harsh little gasps that had him nearly whining for more.
“Turn around,” he panted against me.
I did without question, so consumed by the heat that surrounded us, the way the water splashed across our shoulders and hips. I was aching and desperate at this point, wanting to take anything he could give me. He pushed me to the side, to a shallower part of the pond, bending me forward across a cool stone. The water lapped just under my thighs, brushing against me and leaving trails of raised flesh in its wake.
Behind me, I could feel Milo spread me open. When one finger dipped inside, I scrambled forward in surprise. He grabbed my hips though, tugging me back towards him, murmuring softly to me as I moaned in want. He pumped his finger in and out, stretching me before adding another, making sure to swipe past my clit and send small shock waves against me. Running a hand down my spine, he soothed my impatience as I began to squirm, twisting his wrist and scissoring his fingers inside me. I could feel his cock twitching near the folds of my lips and I rutted backwards, urging him to bury himself deep within me.
I could feel when he angled himself behind me, the head of his red and swollen cock teasing against my opening. Draping himself across my back, his lips nipped against my ear, as he held me firmly against the rock. My face was pressed against the stone, my eyes glazed and lips parted in a blissed out state.
“Tell me if I need to go slow,” he whispered. When I nodded, I felt him begin to push in, the head of his cock slipping against the wetness that dripped between my thighs. Then, with his arms braced on either side of me, he pushed forward in one smooth thrust, his hips snapping against my own.
Moaning against my ear, his head dropped onto my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispered brokenly. “Oh fuck.”
Reaching behind me, I grasped the flank of his hip, digging my nails into his thigh and feeling the muscle flex beneath my fingers.
I could see him out of the corner of my eye. See the way he was biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut to keep control.
“Milo,” I whispered, my voice barely heard over the pounding in our ears and the sound of the water behind us. “More.”
He lost it then. Like a man possessed he pulled out, snapping his hips forward once more. The grip he had on me was bruising, and yet I didn’t care. He continued to fuck me, rolling his hips to try and find that one little spot that would make me cry to the heavens. When he did, I arched my head back, pulling myself up, so I was kneeling. Grabbing me around the waist, Milo scooted forward until we were fully on the rock, positioning me until my back rested against his chest. With his head on my shoulder, he began to whisper filthily into my ear.
“Feel so good. So fucking good. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to get on my knees for you? Every time I fucking see you in that damn shop I think about it. Think about pulling you behind one of the shelves and burying my head between your thighs. Taking you out back and laying you down to fuck you in the garden. Want to see you come undone. Want to see you dirty and panting and screaming my name. Would you like that? Want me to fuck you until you can’t even think straight anymore?”
My eyes rolled in the back of my head, my mouth parted as his hand trailed a slick trail down my belly, his fingers searching out those little bundle of nerves.
“You’re gonna cum now,” he whispered. “You’re going to cum so hard and I’m gonna fuck you through it, yeah?”
I think I nodded. I didn’t know. All I was aware of was the drag across my swollen clit and the way Milo kept thrusting his hips forward, over and over again until I was nothing more than a writhing mess of want and need. When I did cum, it was with a loud cry. Behind me, I could feel Milo tense, his eyes watching me intensely as I convulsed around him. When I sagged in his arms he pushed me forward, snapping his hips against my own until I felt him shudder. Burying his head between my shoulder blades, he finally let go, holding me tight and shivering against my back.
[[Next|Aftercare]]
<<set $sex to "F">>Grabbing my thighs, he dug his fingers into my skin, pushing the two of us up against the cliff wall as his lips moved down my neck, sucking tight bruises all along my flesh. I tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as he bit and licked, his movements excitable as he pressed firmly against me. Ringed hands trailed down across my body in light strokes, feeling each dip and curve, seeking out the places that made me shiver and the ones that caused me to suck in a deep breath. I could feel my blood coursing through me, trembling as he lazily trailed his lips down from my neck and across my chest, stopping to flick his tongue across the hardening bud of my breast, biting at it softly. He laved at the skin there, sucking greedily and cupping me in his callused palm before working his way up to the other side to nip at my ear and breathe harshly against me. His legs entwined with mine as he scooted impossibly close, the spray from the waterfall rushing down across both of us until he inched us away from it.
The sound of my heart thundered in my ears. I watched as Milo’s eyes closed, and he sucked beads of water from my skin. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he became lost in the pleasure of touching me, pulling me close, rubbing his body against my own until I was shaking at the feel of him against me. I felt my breath stutter as his fingers came to the apex of my thighs, teasing the skin there, before one warm hand began to massage between my legs, seeking out all the spots that produced a sound of pleasure from my lips.
“Fuck,” he whispered against my skin. “God, I wanted to touch you for so long. So fucking long.”
He rubbed against me firmly, dragging his thumb across the bundle of nerves there. I felt a shudder go up my spine, the heat from my belly rising in a deep flush across my skin as he panted raggedly. Pressing my hands to his shoulders, I rolled my hips, feeling the length of him nudge against me, hot and hard and dragging deliciously across my hip. Milo’s pupils were blown, his eyes dark as he looked down at where he gripped me, watching the way I fit in the palm of his hand. Lips parted in a small pant, he curled his fingers, taking his time as he dragged his palm slowly across my core. I watched the tip of my sex pull against him, felt the way the rings of his hand caught against my skin. My belly tightened in need and I pulled my leg upwards to hook over his hip, giving him more access. A needy whine escaped Milo’s throat as he lunged forward, pressing his lips to mine. His tongue licked at the seam of my mouth, begging silently for me to open and plunging in when I allowed him access. With a hand curled within my hair, Milo kissed me like a man starving. Pressing me further against the rock wall until I could feel the jagged stone dig into my spine. I didn’t care. My heart was beating loudly against my chest and my hips were arching forward with the need for more friction.
I could feel the scratch of his beard against my chin, the way his body leaned forward, all firm muscle that he had hid beneath a linen shirt and a pair of suspenders. Milo was hard and lethal in all the right places and I knew as I ran my hands down his muscled back, there was more to this man than he let the world see. It left me gasping against him and him smiling lewdly against my lips as he nipped at me.
“Got a question for you,” he whispered against me.
“Now?”
He chuckled, a low rumble that made me twitch against him. “It’s important,” he murmured. I looked at him incredulously, wondering how any question he had could be important at this moment in time. But his eyes were dancing, and his lips were puffy from our kiss. Licking his lips, he cocked his head to the side. “How long do you think I can hold my breath?”
He didn’t wait for the answer as he dropped beneath the surface of the water, dragging both my thighs up and over his shoulders. I scrambled to keep my balance, my hands sinking into the wet strands of hair that floated at the very surface of the pool. The water was cold and the night air around me even cooler as I was raised partially out of the water. But when Milo’s warm tongue snaked out and his lips wrapped around me, I let my head fall back in a deep guttural moan.
Slowly, Milo began to bob his head, licking at the underside of my length, flicking his tongue across the vein. I felt a gasp shatter in my chest as he slowly wrapped his tongue around me, licking and pressing against me in a way that had my back arching and my eyes fluttering closed. I could almost imagine the chuckle he would give. The self-satisfied smirk. When his fingers grabbed my ass, his thumb catching on the puckered opening, I thought I would fall. He massaged the pad of his thumb against it, moaning around me at the mere feel. He swallowed then, his throat reflexively contracting as he desperately tried to get closer, his nose rubbing against my groin.
He continued to bob his head underwater, little bubbles coming up to spread across the surface, and while I was sure it was only seconds it felt like hours he was down there, holding his breath, breathing me in. Above me, the lanterns swirled in starlight and the water cascaded down in a reflective sheen against the rock. I felt my body tremble and my thighs shake.
When he came up for air, gasping and coughing, I grabbed him. I curled my fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him forward, so I could taste myself. Despite the water, I could smell the heady scent across his mouth, taste the bitterness on his tongue. The move had him clawing at me desperately, rutting hard against my thigh and letting out harsh little gasps that had him nearly whining for more.
“Turn around,” he panted against me.
I did without question, so consumed by the heat that surrounded us, the way the water splashed across our shoulders and hips. My stomach clenched in anticipation, wanting to take anything he could give me. He pushed me to the side, to a shallower part of the pond, bending me forward across a cool stone. The water lapped just under my thighs, brushing against me and leaving trails of raised flesh in its wake. Behind me, I could feel Milo spread me open. When the flat heat of his tongue licked against my opening, I scrambled forward in surprise. He grabbed my hips though, tugging me back towards his mouth. Running a hand down my spine, he soothed me with a murmured hush, as he buried his face against me, licking long, wet stripes until I was dripping. When he pulled back, I could feel him shifting behind me and from over my shoulder, I could see him sucking his own fingers. The sight was filthy and had me swallowing convulsively, right before he eased one slick finger inside me, stretching me slowly.
“Tell me when it’s enough,” he groaned, easing a second inside me. I angled my hips backwards, rolling them against his hand, letting him take his time as he ran a tongue down the knobs of my spine. I tapped him when I was ready, barely able to trust the sound of my own voice.
I could feel when he angled himself behind me, the head of his red and swollen cock teasing against me. Draping himself across my back, his lips nipping against my ear, he held me firmly against the rock. My face was pressed against the stone, my eyes glazed and lips parted in a blissed out state. I squeezed my thighs together in an effort to relieve some of the ache.
“Tell me if I need to go slow,” he whispered. When I nodded, I felt him begin to push in, pushing past the tight ring of muscle with a pop until he bottomed out. He moaned against my ear, his head dropping onto my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispered brokenly. “Oh fuck.”
Reaching behind me, I grasped the flank of his hip, digging my nails into his thigh and feeling the muscle flex beneath my fingers.
I could see him out of the corner of my eye. See the way he was biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut to keep control.
“Milo,” I whispered, my voice barely heard over the pounding in our ears and the sound of the water behind us. “More.”
He lost it then. Like a man possessed he pulled out, snapping his hips forward once more. The grip he had on me was bruising, and yet I didn’t care. He continued to fuck me, rolling his hips to try and find that one little spot that would make me cry to the heavens. When he did, I arched my head back, pulling myself up, so I was kneeling. Grabbing me around the waist, Milo scooted forward until we were fully on the rock, positioning me until my back rested against his chest, one hand coming up to cup the weight of my breast. His thumb ran across the bud there, flicking against it and delighting in the way it hardened beneath his touch. With his head on my shoulder, he began to whisper filthily into my ear.
“Feel so good. So fucking good. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to get on my knees for you? Every time I fucking see you in that damn shop I think about it. Think about pulling you behind one of the shelves and burying my face between your thighs. Taking you out back and laying you down to fuck you in the garden. Want to see you come undone. Want to see you dirty and panting and screaming my name. Would you like that? Want me to fuck you until you can’t even think straight anymore?”
My eyes rolled in the back of my head, my mouth parted as his hand trailed a slick trail down my belly, pressing his hands firmly between my legs.
“You’re gonna cum now,” he whispered. “You’re going to cum so hard and I’m gonna fuck you through it, yeah?”
I think I nodded. I didn’t know. All I was aware of was the drag across my center and the way Milo kept thrusting his hips forward, hitting that spot over and over again until I was nothing more than a writhing mess of want and need. When I did cum, it was with a loud cry. Behind me, I could feel Milo tense, his eyes watching me intensely as he worked me through the shiver rolling through my body, holding me as I flew apart beneath him. When I sagged in his arms he pushed me forward, snapping his hips against my own until I felt him shudder. Burying his head between my shoulder blades, he finally let go, holding me tight and shivering against my back.
[[Next|Aftercare]]
<<set $sex to "TF">>Grabbing my thighs, he dug his fingers into my skin, pushing the two of us up against the cliff wall as his lips moved down my neck, sucking tight bruises all along my flesh. I tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as he bit and licked, his movements excitable as he pressed firmly against me. Ringed hands trailed down across my body in light strokes, feeling each dip and curve, seeking out the places that made me shiver and the ones that caused me to suck in a deep breath. I could feel my blood coursing through me, shivering as he lazily trailed his lips down from my neck and across my chest. Slowly, he rose, trailing his nose up the side of my neck to nip at my ear and breathe harshly against me. His legs entwined with mine as he scooted impossibly close, the spray from the waterfall rushing down across both of us until he inched us away from it.
The sound of my heart thundered in my ears. I watched as Milo’s eyes closed, and he sucked beads of water from my skin. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he became lost in the pleasure of touching me, pulling me close, rubbing his body against my own until I was shaking at the feel of him against me. I felt my breath stutter as his fingers came to the apex of my thighs, teasing the skin there, before one warm hand began to massage between my legs, seeking out all the spots that produced a sound of pleasure from my lips.
“Fuck,” he whispered against my skin. “God, I wanted to touch you for so long. So fucking long.”
Dragging his fingers across me, he let his thumb rub gently circles against my center, paying special attention to the way I twitched against him, my hips rolling when he got it just right. I felt a shudder go up my spine, the heat from my belly rising in a deep flush across my skin as he panted raggedly against me. Pressing my hands to his shoulders, I rolled my hips, feeling the length of him nudge against me, hot and hard and dragging deliciously across my hip. Milo’s pupils were blown, his eyes dark as he looked down at where his fingers continued to play, watching the way I squirmed against his hand. It wasn’t enough and yet was everything all at once and I felt my thighs squeezing together to gain more friction as I began rubbing myself against his open palm.
Lips parted in a small pant, as Milo curled his fingers, taking his time as he slowly began teasing me. His fingers twisted and turne, pinching slightly, his eyes darkening as I gasped loudly, my voice echoing around us. My belly tightened in need and I pulled my leg upwards to hook over his hip, giving him more access. A needy whine escaped my throat and Milo lunged forward to swallow it. His tongue licked at the seam of my mouth, begging silently for me to open and plunging in when I allowed him access. With a hand curled within my hair, Milo kissed me like a man starving. Pressing me further against the rock wall until I could feel the jagged stone dig into my spine. I didn’t care. My heart was beating loudly against my chest and my hips were arching forward with the need for more friction.
I could feel the scratch of his beard against my chin, the way his body leaned forward, all firm muscle that he had hid beneath a linen shirt and a pair of suspenders. Milo was hard and lethal in all the right places and I knew as I ran my hands down his muscled back, there was more to this man than he let the world see. It left me gasping against him and him smiling lewdly against my lips as he nipped at me.
“Got a question for you,” he whispered against me.
“Now?”
He chuckled, a low rumble that made me twitch against him. “It’s important,” he murmured. I looked at him incredulously, wondering how any question he had could be important at this moment in time. But his eyes were dancing, and his lips were puffy from our kiss. Licking his lips, he cocked his head to the side. “How long do you think I can hold my breath?”
He didn’t wait for the answer as he dropped beneath the surface of the water, dragging both my thighs up and over his shoulders. I scrambled to keep my balance, my hands sinking into the wet strands of hair that floated at the very surface of the pool. The water was cold and the night air around me even cooler as I was raised partially out of the water. But when Milo’s warm tongue snaked out licked across my opening, I let my head fall back in a deep guttural moan.
Slowly, Milo began to lick me open. Flattening his tongue to swipe across me before thrusting it deep inside. I felt a gasp shatter in my chest as he slowly pulled me forward, burying his nose against my sex. I could feel the shallow thrusts of his tongue and the way his fingers scooted dangerously close to joining in. I squeezed his head between my thighs in an effort not to lose control. I could almost imagine the chuckle he would give. The self-satisfied smirk. When his fingers grabbed my ass, and he pulled me flush against his mouth, I thought I would fall. The vibrations of his moan coursed through me as he sucked and nipped, lapping at all I had to offer.
Little bubbles rose to the surface, and while I was sure it was only mere moments he was down there, it felt like hours that he was holding his breath, breathing me in. Above me, the lanterns swirled in starlight and the water cascaded down in a reflective sheen against the rock.
When he came up for air, gasping and coughing, I grabbed him. I curled my fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him forward, so I could taste myself. Despite the water, I could smell the heady scent across his mouth, taste the bitterness on his tongue. The move had him clawing at me desperately, rutting hard against my thigh and letting out harsh little gasps that had him nearly whining for more.
“Turn around,” he panted against me.
I did without question, so consumed by the heat that surrounded us, the way the water splashed across our shoulders and hips. I was aching and desperate at this point, wanting to take anything he could give me. He pushed me to the side, to a shallower part of the pond, bending me forward across a cool stone. The water lapped just under my thighs, brushing against me and leaving trails of raised flesh in its wake.
Behind me, I could feel Milo spread me open. When one finger dipped inside, I scrambled forward in surprise. He grabbed my hips though, tugging me back towards him, murmuring softly to me as I moaned in want. He pulsed his finger in and out, stretching me before adding another, making sure to swipe past the bundle of nerves that sent heat pooling in my belly and shock waves ricocheting across my skin. Running a hand down my spine, he soothed my impatience as I began to squirm, twisting his wrist and scissoring his fingers inside me. I could feel his cock twitching near my hole and I rutted backwards, urging him to bury himself deep within me.
I could feel when he angled himself behind me, the head of his red and swollen cock teasing against my opening. Draping himself across my back, his lips nipped against my ear, as he held me firmly against the rock. My face was pressed against the stone, my eyes glazed and lips parted in a blissed out state.
“Tell me if I need to go slow,” he whispered. When I nodded, I felt him begin to push in, the head of his cock slipping against the wetness that dripped between my thighs. Then, with his arms braced on either side of me, he pushed forward in one smooth thrust, his hips snapping against my own.
Moaning against my ear, his head dropped onto my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispered brokenly. “Oh fuck.”
Reaching behind me, I grasped the flank of his hip, digging my nails into his thigh and feeling the muscle flex beneath my fingers.
I could see him out of the corner of my eye. See the way he was biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut to keep control.
“Milo,” I whispered, my voice barely heard over the pounding in our ears and the sound of the water behind us. “More.”
He lost it then. Like a man possessed he pulled out, snapping his hips forward once more. The grip he had on me was bruising, and yet I didn’t care. He continued to fuck me, rolling his hips to try and find that one little spot that would make me cry to the heavens. When he did, I arched my head back, pulling myself up, so I was kneeling. Grabbing me around the waist, Milo scooted forward until we were fully on the rock, positioning me until my back rested against his chest. With his head on my shoulder, he began to whisper filthily into my ear.
“Feel so good. So fucking good. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to get on my knees for you? Every time I fucking see you in that damn shop I think about it. Think about pulling you behind one of the shelves and burying my head between your thighs. Taking you out back and laying you down to fuck you in the garden. Want to see you come undone. Want to see you dirty and panting and screaming my name. Would you like that? Want me to fuck you until you can’t even think straight anymore?”
My eyes rolled in the back of my head, my mouth parted as his hand trailed a slick trail down my belly, his fingers searching out those little bundle of nerves.
“You’re gonna cum now,” he whispered. “You’re going to cum so hard and I’m gonna fuck you through it, yeah?”
I think I nodded. I didn’t know. All I was aware of was the drag across my swollen center and the way Milo kept thrusting his hips forward, over and over again until I was nothing more than a writhing mess of want and need. When I did cum, it was with a loud cry. Behind me, I could feel Milo tense, his eyes watching me intensely as I convulsed around him. When I sagged in his arms he pushed me forward, snapping his hips against my own until I felt him shudder. Burying his head between my shoulder blades, he finally let go, holding me tight and shivering against my back.
[[Next|Aftercare]]
<<set $sex to "TM">>“I don’t really want it at all,” I told him.
“Then,” he said, reaching out to take my hand. “It appears we need to go get something to eat.” He was dragging me out of the water without another word. “You want something new tonight or something tried and true.”
“Milo,” I began gently. “Shouldn’t we talk about this?”
“About what?”
“That I don’t ever want to have sex.”
“Why is it a conversation to even be had?” he asked with a raised brow. “There are plenty of others things to do than just have sex. Individuals get a little too hung up on how much you are fucking, who you are fucking, how you are fucking. When, in reality, that is just a tiny part of it all. I like you, $name. I want to spend time with you. And that time can be spent in a dozen different ways.”
“But you’ll go somewhere else,” I stated, knowing he wasn’t monogamous.
His looked gentled. “Yes. I will. But that would have happened whether we slept together or not. Because that’s my preference. Just as not having sex is yours.”
“So you’re okay with this?”
“I’m okay with this.”
Smoothing his hands across my shoulders, he grinned up at me. “That being said, we should probably get dressed. Unless you want to have a diving competition.”
[[Lets get dressed and end the night]]
[[Diving competition for sure]]“No, it feels right,” I told him quickly, not wanting him to think that I never wanted anything. “I am actually pretty amenable to it right now. But– I just want you to know that it’s not always going to feel right. Sometimes it might feel like the exact opposite. For me, this is more about you.”
He raised a brow towards me. “Not about you?”
“I mean, it can be about me too but what I’m saying is I feel this is kind of about your pleasure more than mine. I could go either way with it, really.”
Milo sat, thinking about that for a long minute. “Are you afraid if you don’t have sex with me, I’ll go somewhere else?”
I startled. “I– I’m just trying to be truthful with you, Milo. Get us both on the same page.
“Okay, then this is what I want to say, as long as we are kind of getting on the same page. If you want to have sex, I’m down for it. I’m always down for it. But if that day doesn’t come, that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in you. I don’t want you measuring your self-worth in a relationship to what you can provide for someone sexually.That’s bullshit and I hope you know that. That being said, I think maybe I would like to wait tonight.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I want to prove to you that it doesn’t have to be about sex. Now, I’m not saying I’m never going to sleep with someone else. You and I have had this conversation. But– what I’m saying is you’re never going to get pressure from me to do this. And when I’m spending time with you, I’m spending time with you. Not running off somewhere else to get my dick wet.”
“So you’re okay with this?”
“I’m okay with this.”
Smoothing his hands across my shoulders, he grinned up at me. “That being said, we should probably get dressed. Unless you want to have a diving competition.”
[[Lets get dressed and end the night]]
[[Diving competition for sure]]“I’m not saying never,” I told him. “I just… not right this second? It’s not something I feel a lot of desire to have. But, I also am not opposed to having it. Does that make sense?”
Milo snorted. “Of course it does. I’m a slut, $name. I do not expect everyone to live up to my libido.”
“But what if it is never the right time?”
He shrugged. “Then it’s never the right time. Why is everyone so hung up on sex? It’s not defining. It doesn’t make up the entirety of how individuals relate to each other. You know that right?”
“But you’ll go somewhere else?”
Milo sighed, gesturing for me to follow him. There was a rock nearby. A flat piece of stone that he hoisted me up on so he could stand before me. The water dripped from his hair, beading at his collar bone before dripping down his chest.
“I am not someone who is going to leave this moment and go pick up a random stranger just because you didn’t want to have sex. Am I saying I’ll never sleep with another person? No. But am I saying it is a dealbreaker to this moment? Absolutely not. I’ve been with many different partners in my life. Each with their own preferences and desires. You know when I had the most fun?” I shook my head. “When we were all up front and honest about each other's needs.”
“So you’re okay with this?”
“I’m okay with this.”
Smoothing his hands across my shoulders, he grinned up at me. “That being said, we should probably get dressed. Unless you want to have a diving competition.”
[[Lets get dressed and end the night]]
[[Diving competition for sure]]“I think we should get dressed and end the night,” I told him.
Taking my hand, he nodded. But not before he brought my fingers up to lay a kiss on my knuckles. “I get it,” he told me. “I really do. But if you are feeling awkward, let's go and buy a steamed bun. We barely ate tonight and the bevvy of food that is available during festival is not something you’ll want to miss.”
I squeezed his hand, thankful for the understanding. Oddly, I felt it was one of the more honest moments him and I had shared. I tried not to think too hard on what that would mean.
[[Chapter Six]]“Oh, diving competition for sure.”
I pushed him, jumping fully into the water and coming up a few feet away. He stood up to his waist, cracking his knuckles. “I don’t know if you’ll want to do this with me. I can get competitive.”
“I’m clearly going to be the faster swimmer,” I teased.
“Ah, but Darlin’, you don’t know how long I can hold my breath. First person to bring up five shells from the bottom, //full// shells, none of that broken shit, wins.”
“What do I win?”
“What //I// will win,” he grinned. “Is dinner. On you.”
“Sucks to be you. I barely get paid so if you win you’ll only get a steamed bun.”
“I love steamed buns. So jokes on you.”
On the count of three we both dived, heading down to try and nab the seashells that I could have sworn were not there before. Only brought to us by spectral crawdads who clacked at us with their pincers.
In the end, I didn’t know who won that night. Just that we dove until we were tired and out of breath. Milo was crawling up onto the shore while I was panting and shaking the water from my skin.
“Food should maybe be on Hazel tonight,” he murmured, collapsing on a soft bed of moss. “I don’t want to move.”
“I doubt Hazel is going to bring food all the way down here.”
Groaning, he bumped his head dramatically against the ground, still naked and unashamed of it. “Damn.” Rolling his head to me, he sighed. “Okay, so here me out. Instead, what if I get dressed and the two of us walk until our legs give out, and then we beg people on the street to get us food. They will be so drunk I doubt they will even know we are swindling them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Or I could just buy us some food. With your money.”
His grin was bright and relaxed as he looked at me. “You, Darlin’, should have been a con man.”
“Get dressed,” I told him, kicking his clothes to him.
The sound of the festival were still in full swing just beyond the walls we stood within and while my legs felt like jelly from swimming so much, I felt at peace. When Milo’s arm swung around my shoulders, he pulled me in close, kissing my temple.
“Come on,” he murmured. He didn’t let me go as we walked, keeping me close as if he too did not want this night to end.
[[Chapter Six]]Pushing me against the wall, Milo clawed at my clothes. I could feel his hands slip up beneath my tunic, running across the bare flesh of my belly. One hand ran down my side, clutching my thigh and hooking it over his hip, so he could grind against me. I felt him, already hard in the soft confines of his sweats, the fabric rubbing across him and providing friction to the arousal that was beginning to consume us both. Tangling my fingers in his hair I held his head against me, nipping at his lower lip and feeling him gasp. Heat coiled within me, the scrapes and cuts I had received in the Deep suddenly a vivid ache. I could have lost everything. I could have lost him. I had been so close to never returning, and that knowledge now sat in my chest uncomfortably.
Flipping Milo around, I shoved him against the door, catching a flash of shock in his eyes before they lit up with hunger. Sinking to my knees, I pulled at his sweats, yanking them down past his hips while keeping a hand firm on his belly. His erection was hard and the needy pant that escaped him was one that would stick with me for a long while. Taking him in my hand, I slowly began pumping him up and down, the slide of my palm a hot and dry drag against his skin. His head thudded against the door, exposing the long line of his throat as he gritted his teeth. I felt heat begin to boil inside me as I watched the way he slid between my curled fingers. One hand came down to grip my shoulder as he desperately tried to find something to hold onto, his hips arching forward involuntarily.
Suddenly, I was consumed. I wanted to feel every inch of him. I wanted to feel alive after the grave that I had wandered, and I wanted to make him feel me, reaffirm my existence. Remind him that I was here and very real. That I was not running no matter how hard he tried to push me away.
Looking up at him through the thick of my lashes, I pumped his cock roughly, demanding his full attention. His eyes were bright and caught up in the storm of emotion that swirled around us. No longer was he in control and there was a clawing need to watch him fly apart. To hear what it sounded like when Milo no longer could orchestrate every second of our time. Because that’s what he had been doing, I now realized. He had been making sure every moment, every conversation and sly glance, had been curated to his liking. To his control. Now that control was shattering, and the look on his flushed face was one that had me aching in need.
Keeping eye contact, I leaned forward, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock and smacking his hands away as they came to rest against my cheek. He whimpered as I hungrily sucked him into my mouth, running my tongue along the vein there and feeling the way he curved towards my cheek.
“$name?” It was a question. He was uncertain. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do or what he was even allowed, and it left him unsteady. I pushed myself further, feeling him hit the back of my throat. With my free hand, I palmed at the globes of his ass, snaking a finger back towards his puckered hole and massaging it with my thumb. He startled at first, but a wrecked sound fell from his lips and echoed across the distillery. It sent a bolt of desire running through me, causing my own cock to ache and weep at the debauched sound. Before I could stop myself, I swallowed him to the root, pulling more and more sound from his trembling form.
My lips stretched around him, my nose hitting against his pubic bone, and I heard a sob tearing from above as he was consumed in the wet heat. His hands shook as they remained curled against the door and his knees threatened to buckle. I scooted myself forward, holding him tight, a silent promise that I would never let him fall.
Spit gathered at the corners of my mouth and my jaw began to ache as I bobbed my head against him. His thighs trembled as a litany of needy moans encircled us as he whispered nonsense from above me and I moaned around the cock shoved down my throat. When I pulled off, I looked up at him, knowing I looked a wreck and yet feeling a sense of pride. His own lips were red and swollen from where he had been biting them and his cheeks flushed.
Standing, I held out my hand to him. When he took it, I yanked him forward catching him as he stumbled into me and grabbing his chin between my fingers. “Where’s your bedroom?” I could feel myself straining against my own pants but didn’t want to do this against a wall. Not tonight.
His eyes flickered downwards, his tongue sneaking out to wet his plump lips. Pulling his shirt over his head, he let out a shaky breath and began leading me down a rickety set of metal stairs. I was still completely clothed behind him, watching as his eyes skittered around the room, as if this moment was significant somehow. I made sure to hold his hand tightly in case it was.
Milo’s bed was nothing more than a mattress on the ground, tucked away in the corner next to an old whiskey vat. He had piles of blankets and pillows strewn across it and the bed looked as if it had not once been made.
Pushing him downwards, I stood over him, looking down at his flushed skin. He lay on his back, supported by his forearms, cock red and hard, the smattering of freckles across his shoulders prominent in the dim light. Slowly, I tugged my own clothes off, letting them pool to the floor by the bed.
Milo’s eyes went wide at the sight of me, and he scrambled forward. “Shit, $name. What the fuck happened to you?” When he tried to stand I pushed him back down to the bed again, shaking my head.
“Not now,” I told him.
“You’re hurt,” he protested.
Cupping his cheek, I tipped his head upwards, making his amber eyes lock with mine. “So are you.” He gaped at me, the urge to protest running across his face but just as quickly falling away as I straddled his hips and pushed him down to the bed. He fell back against the crumpled blankets, eyes wide as I continued to keep control. Running my nails down his chest, across hardened nipples and down to the small trail of hair just below his navel, I pumped his cock a few more times, reminding him who was on top this round.
“Do you have supplies?” I asked.
He blinked owlishly at me, like he didn’t quite know what I was talking about. When it clicked, I watched him swallow thickly, bobbing his head in a nod. One hand reached out to his bedside table. Opening the drawer I saw a small tube of lube, along with a few toys. He handed me the tube, shutting the drawer quickly before I could get any ideas. I couldn’t help the small smile at the action as he lay spread beneath me but was still somehow embarrassed by what he hid beside his bed.
Slowly, I spread the slick across my fingers and reached behind us, teasing his hole. Milo hissed, bucking and arching beneath me, eyes fluttering shut. When I slowly pressed one finger inside him, he began to squirm in earnest. Callused fingers came up to toy with my own sex, running across my slit and gliding precum across me. I let him play as I added a second finger and watched as he pushed against my hand, fucking my fingers in a slow and grinding rhythm.
Leaning forward, I captured his lips against my own, seeking out his tongue. He surged towards me like a dying man, desperate to seek out comfort as he pulled one leg upwards, allowing myself more access. I scissored my fingers back and forth, stretching him for what was to come, before finally I found the small spongy surface deep inside, and crooked the tip of my finger across it.
When Milo bucked beneath me, it was with a shout, his arms coming up to wrap around my shoulders. I hushed him soothingly, nipping at his bottom lip and swallowing each sweaty gasp he had. Pulling up, I took his hand, pouring some of the lube across it before guiding it to my cock. Together, we slid or hands up and down, coating me until it was shiny and slick. I let him linger there for a minute, tipping my head back and feeling my chest rise and fall with desire. His head dipped down, tongue laving across my chest and biting at the pebbled flesh there. With the way Milo was panting, I didn’t think he could wait much longer and the arousal pooling in my belly was nearly unbearable. Sitting up, I angled myself just right, pulling his legs so they bracketed my hips, and slowly pushed in.
Milo cried out, his moan deep and thready, his head falling back and thrashing from side to side as he adjusted. I pushed forward, plastering myself against his chest and bracing my arms on either side of his face.
“Milo,” I whispered.
He was whimpering, his eyes squeezed shut and cheeks bright with sweat and exertion. Lips parted in a continuous pleasured moan, I rolled my hips against him.
“Milo,” I tried again.
When he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown. But I wanted him to look at me. I didn’t want him running away like he had so many times before. I wanted him here, with me.
Slowly, I pulled out, pausing for a moment to make sure he was paying attention. His eyes ticked down to where my cock was pressed against him, and when I pushed back in, snapping my hips forward, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his hips arched off the bed.
I rocked my hips, fucking him slowly, not yet changing the pace to the fast and dirty one I knew he loved. When my name began to fall from his lips, I knew he was close to tipping over the edge. Hair plastered to his forehead, he began to beg, chest rising and falling in heaving breaths, eyes slightly unfocused as he tried to keep them on me.
“Fuck,” he whimpered. “Please. Please please please…”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I’ve got you.”
He shook his head as if to tell me no, but I grabbed his legs and pushed them forward, bending him in two. The breath was punched out of him as I began snapping my hips back and forth, fucking him the way I knew he liked, feeling my thighs slap against him. He was red-faced and sweaty, tears tracking down his cheeks as he reached forward, clawing at my wounds and at the same time clinging to me. When I felt my balls draw up against me, I knew it was close to being over.
Folding him in two, I reached between us and began to pump his red and weeping cock. He cried in relief at the contact, back bowed off the bed as he gripped the sheets beneath us. When he came, it was with a mess across his belly and his teeth buried in my shoulder. I felt my own orgasm take me not long after, shuddering down my back as I shot deep within him, continuing to fuck him through the aftershocks.
Afterwards, when both our breathing turned to normal and I felt myself slide out, I looked at him. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide, his body trembling against mine. Grabbing a blanket, I pulled it up and over the two of us, pulling him close as I ran my hands up and down his back.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to him. He curled towards me then, tucking his head beneath my chin. Frowning, I swallowed thickly. “Milo?”
“I’m alright,” he rasped out, his voice raw and broken. “It was just…”
“A lot?”
He laughed, the sound like shattered glass. “Yeah. A lot.”
I felt my heart ache at how small he sounded. “Do you want me to leave?”
There was a long bout of silence before he curled his legs against me, tucking himself close. “I don’t think I could handle it if you did.”
Laying a kiss across his head, I ran my fingers through the sweaty locks of his hair. “Then I’ll stay,” I assured him. And the two of us laid there, on an old mattress on the ground, sweat drying across our skin.
[[Next|Aftercare 2]]The gasp woke me. It broke through the room with a ring causing me to peel my eyes open to stare in the murky dark. My body was sore, muscles aching and head pounding as the chill scratched across my bones. There was a lone lantern, shining outside the window, swaying gently back and forth. Next to me, a pained whimper was muffled into a thin pillow.
Milo laid next to me, sheets low on his hips and freckles brighter in the dim light of the lantern from the window. His fingers gripped the sheets beneath him, chest rising and falling in short rasps. Reaching out, I ran a hand across his forehead, fingers scraping through his hair. “Milo,” I whispered. “Wake up.”
He woke with a gasp, back arching from the mattress. His eyes were wild as he looked around, breath frozen in his lungs. When his terrified gaze connected with mine, he melted a bit, sinking down into the well-worn mattress.
“Nightmare?” I asked.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah.” He didn’t move to sit up, his eyes fixating on the dark instead. “Did I wake you?”
“It’s okay,” I assured him.
We lapsed into silence. The quiet stretching so long that I would have assumed he had fallen back asleep if it were not for the whites of his eyes.
“Can I confess something?” he asked quietly. I shifted, leaning towards him and feeling the way his arm curled around me. “I almost followed you down into the Deep.”
It was not what I had been expecting him to say. His fingers were drumming against my hip nervously and he was refusing to turn away. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was scared. Not of the Deep. Water is nowhere near as terrifying as fire. But because I thought if I followed you, it would mean that I had to admit that I care for you. More than I’ve been allowing myself to believe. And I just didn’t want to do that. Because I thought for sure that it would change things.”
“What things?” I asked softly.
“It’s hard to explain,” he answered. “I haven’t really had a good example of a relationship in my life. I kind of figured I was undeserving of one. Admitting that I liked you was just another reminder that this was going to get fucked up. Eventually. And $name?” he shifted, looking me in the eye. “I really don’t want this one to be fucked up. I want to pretend like I don’t like you so it maybe means we can cheat fate somehow and we don’t have to end.”
[[We don’t have to end, Milo]]
[[Cheating fate never got anyone anywhere good]]
[[I think you may need to work on your self esteem]]Pushing me against the wall, Milo clawed at my clothes. I could feel his hands slip up beneath my tunic, running across the bare flesh of my belly to paw at my breasts. One hand ran down my side, clutching my thigh and hooking it over his hip, so he could grind against me. I felt him, already hard in the soft confines of his sweats, the fabric rubbing across him and providing friction to the arousal that was beginning to consume us both. Tangling my fingers in his hair I held his head against me, nipping at his lower lip and feeling him gasp. Heat coiled within me, the scrapes and cuts I had received in the Deep suddenly a vivid ache. I could have lost everything. I could have lost him. I had been so close to never returning, and that knowledge now sat in my chest uncomfortably.
Flipping Milo around, I shoved him against the door, catching a flash of shock in his eyes before they lit up with hunger. Sinking to my knees, I pulled at his sweats, yanking them down past his hips while keeping a hand firm on his belly. His erection was hard and the needy pant that escaped him was one that would stick with me for a long while. Taking him in my hand, I slowly began pumping him up and down, the slide of my palm a hot and dry drag against his skin. His head thudded against the door, exposing the long line of his throat as he gritted his teeth. I felt heat begin to boil inside me as I watched the way he slid between my curled fingers. One hand came down to grip my shoulder as he desperately tried to find something to hold onto, his hips arching forward involuntarily.
Suddenly, I was consumed. I wanted to feel every inch of him. I wanted to feel alive after the grave that I had wandered, and I wanted to make him feel me, reaffirm my existence. Remind him that I was here and very real. That I was not running no matter how hard he tried to push me away.
Looking up at him through the thick of my lashes, I pumped his cock roughly, demanding his full attention. His eyes were bright and caught up in the storm of emotion that swirled around us. No longer was he in control and there was a clawing need to watch him fly apart. To hear what it sounded like when Milo no longer could orchestrate every second of our time. Because that’s what he had been doing, I now realized. He had been making sure every moment, every conversation and sly glance, had been curated to his liking. To his control. Now that control was shattering, and the look on his flushed face was one that had me aching in need.
Keeping eye contact, I leaned forward, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock and smacking his hands away as they came to rest against my cheek. He whimpered as I hungrily sucked him into my mouth, running my tongue along the vein there and feeling the way he curved towards my cheek.
“$name?” It was a question. He was uncertain. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do or what he was even allowed, and it left him unsteady. I pushed myself further, feeling him hit the back of my throat. With my free hand, I palmed at the globes of his ass, snaking a finger back towards his puckered hole and massaging it with my thumb. He startled at first, but a wrecked sound fell from his lips and echoed across the distillery. It sent a bolt of desire running through me, causing me to press my thighs together, trying to relieve my own ache. Before I could stop myself, I swallowed him to the root, pulling more and more sound from his trembling form.
My lips stretched around him, my nose hitting against his pubic bone, and I heard a sob tearing from above as he was consumed in the wet heat. His hands shook as they remained curled against the door and his knees threatened to buckle. I scooted myself forward, holding him tight, a silent promise that I would never let him fall.
Spit gathered at the corners of my mouth and my jaw began to ache as I bobbed my head against him. His thighs trembled as a litany of needy moans encircled us as he whispered nonsense from above me and I moaned around the cock shoved down my throat. When I pulled off, I looked up at him, knowing I looked a wreck and yet feeling a sense of pride. His own lips were red and swollen from where he had been biting them and his cheeks flushed.
Standing, I held out my hand to him. When he took it, I yanked him forward catching him as he stumbled into me and grabbing his chin between my fingers. “Where’s your bedroom?” I could feel the warm slick against my thighs, but didn’t want to do this against a wall. Not tonight.
His eyes flickered downwards, his tongue sneaking out to wet his plump lips. Pulling his shirt over his head, he let out a shaky breath and began leading me down a rickety set of metal stairs. I was still completely clothed behind him, watching as his eyes skittered around the room, as if this moment was significant somehow. I made sure to hold his hand tightly in case it was.
Milo’s bed was nothing more than a mattress on the ground, tucked away in the corner next to an old whiskey vat. He had piles of blankets and pillows strewn across it and the bed looked as if it had not once been made.
Pushing him downwards, I stood over him, looking down at his flushed skin. He lay on his back, supported by his forearms, cock red and hard, the smattering of freckles across his shoulders prominent in the dim light. Slowly, I tugged my own clothes off, letting them pool to the floor by the bed.
Milo’s eyes went wide at the sight of me, and he scrambled forward. “Shit, $name. What the fuck happened to you?” When he tried to stand I pushed him back down to the bed again, shaking my head.
“Not now,” I told him.
“You’re hurt,” he protested.
Cupping his cheek, I tipped his head upwards, making his amber eyes lock with mine. “So are you.” He gaped at me, the urge to protest running across his face but just as quickly falling away as I straddled his hips and pushed him down to the bed. He fell back against the crumpled blankets, eyes wide as I continued to keep control. Running my nails down his chest, across hardened nipples and down to the small trail of hair just below his navel, I pumped his cock a few more times, reminding him who was on top this round.
Taking his hand, I brought it to my mouth, placing his fingers inside. I began sucking them, running my tongue across each callous and seam, coating them with my spit. With my free hand, I reached back, continuing to play with his hole, pulling his fingers out of my mouth with a wet pop. His eyes fluttered shut as I teased him, hips bucking upwards and cock grinding against my clit. When I guided his hand downwards, he didn’t hesitate. Slowly, he began swirling them in the wet heat of my sex, pushing them between my lips and burying them deep inside. I gasped loudly, rocking against his palm and grinding against him as my own finger continued to tease him.
I could feel the way he began to stretch me as he scissored his fingers back and forth. When the tip of my own fingers pushed inside him, he let out a small whimper, his cock twitching with interest against his belly. He rubbed against my core with the heel of his hand, sending small bursts of pleasure ricocheting up my spine. I ground against him, soaking his fingers and feeling my own orgasm begin to build. Not wanting to wait any longer, I pulled his hand away and angled my hips above him. Bracing my hands on his chest, I hovered above his aching cock for one anguished moment before sinking down on him with a low groan.
Milo bucked beneath me, his arms coming up to wrap around my shoulders as his breath stuttered from his lungs. I hushed him soothingly, nipping at his bottom lip and swallowing each sweaty gasp he had. Slowly, I began to rock against him, grinding myself on his lap until he was buried deep inside.
He clung to me, crying out as I began to bounce against him, setting a slow and steady pace that I knew was driving him to a weeping mess.
“Milo,” I whispered.
He was whimpering, his eyes squeezed shut and cheeks bright with sweat and exertion. Lips parted in a continuous pleasured moan, I rolled my hips against him.
“Milo,” I tried again.
When he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown. But I wanted him to look at me. I didn’t want him running away like he had so many times before. I wanted him here, with me.
Slowly, I pulled myself off him, letting the head of his cock rest at my entrance. I watched as his eyes ticked downwards, looking at where we joined. I waited until his gaze was locked on to his wet cock and my dripping sex, before I sank back down onto him. His eyes fluttered before rolling to the back of his head.
I fucked him agonizingly slow, raising and lowering myself in one slow drag. When my name began to fall from his lips, I knew he was close to tipping over the edge. Hair plastered to his forehead, he began to beg, chest rising and falling in heaving breaths, eyes slightly unfocused as he tried to keep them on me.
“Fuck,” he whimpered. “Please. Please please please…”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I’ve got you.”
He shook his head as if to tell me no, but I pushed him back against the bed again and began bouncing in his lap in earnest. I could feel him pulling in and out of me as he snapped his hips upwards, trying to match the pace I set. His thighs slapped against mine, the breath punched from his throat, as we began to set a brutal pace that had both of us gasping in need. Milo was red-faced and sweaty, tears tracking down his cheeks as he reached forward, I could help but think that he had never been more beautiful, or more real, than at this moment.
Grabbing his hand I placed it between us. He began rubbing my clit in harsh swipes as my hips came down on him with a slap. When he came, it was deep inside me, his teeth buried in my shoulder as I clenched around him, my own orgasm ripping through me like a knife. I didn’t stop though. I couldn’t. I kept rising and falling against his dripping cock, chasing the aftershocks until my body collapsed against him.
Afterward, when both our breathing turned to normal and I felt myself slide out, I looked at him. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide, his body trembling against mine. Grabbing a blanket, I pulled it up and over the two of us, pulling him close as I ran my hands up and down his back.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to him. He curled towards me then, tucking his head beneath my chin. Frowning, I swallowed thickly. “Milo?”
“I’m alright,” he rasped out, his voice raw and broken. “It was just…”
“A lot?”
He laughed, the sound like shattered glass. “Yeah. A lot.”
I felt my heart ache at how small he sounded. “Do you want me to leave?”
There was a long bout of silence before he curled his legs against me, tucking himself close. “I don’t think I could handle it if you did.”
Laying a kiss across his head, I ran my fingers through the sweaty locks of his hair. “Then I’ll stay,” I assured him. And the two of us laid there, on an old mattress on the ground, sweat drying across our skin.
[[Next|Aftercare 2]]Pushing me against the wall, Milo clawed at my clothes. I could feel his hands slip up beneath my tunic, running across the bare flesh of my belly. One hand ran down my side, clutching my thigh and hooking it over his hip, so he could grind against me. I felt him, already hard in the soft confines of his sweats, the fabric rubbing across him and providing friction to the arousal that was beginning to consume us both. Tangling my fingers in his hair I held his head against me, nipping at his lower lip and feeling him gasp. Heat coiled within me, the scrapes and cuts I had received in the Deep suddenly a vivid ache. I could have lost everything. I could have lost him. I had been so close to never returning, and that knowledge now sat in my chest uncomfortably.
Flipping Milo around, I shoved him against the door, catching a flash of shock in his eyes before they lit up with hunger. Sinking to my knees, I pulled at his sweats, yanking them down past his hips while keeping a hand firm on his belly. His erection was hard and the needy pant that escaped him was one that would stick with me for a long while. Taking him in my hand, I slowly began pumping him up and down, the slide of my palm a hot and dry drag against his skin. His head thudded against the door, exposing the long line of his throat as he gritted his teeth. I felt heat begin to boil inside me as I watched the way he slid between my curled fingers. One hand came down to grip my shoulder as he desperately tried to find something to hold onto, his hips arching forward involuntarily.
Suddenly, I was consumed. I wanted to feel every inch of him. I wanted to feel alive after the grave that I had wandered, and I wanted to make him feel me, reaffirm my existence. Remind him that I was here and very real. That I was not running no matter how hard he tried to push me away.
Looking up at him through the thick of my lashes, I pumped his cock roughly, demanding his full attention. His eyes were bright and caught up in the storm of emotion that swirled around us. No longer was he in control and there was a clawing need to watch him fly apart. To hear what it sounded like when Milo no longer could orchestrate every second of our time. Because that’s what he had been doing, I now realized. He had been making sure every moment, every conversation and sly glance, had been curated to his liking. To his control. Now that control was shattering, and the look on his flushed face was one that had me aching in need.
Keeping eye contact, I leaned forward, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock and smacking his hands away as they came to rest against my cheek. He whimpered as I hungrily sucked him into my mouth, running my tongue along the vein there and feeling the way he curved towards my cheek.
“$name?” It was a question. He was uncertain. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do or what he was even allowed, and it left him unsteady. I pushed myself further, feeling him hit the back of my throat. With my free hand, I palmed at the globes of his ass, snaking a finger back towards his puckered hole and massaging it with my thumb. He startled at first, but a wrecked sound fell from his lips and echoed across the distillery. It sent a bolt of desire running through me, causing me to press my thighs together, trying to relieve my own ache. Before I could stop myself, I swallowed him to the root, pulling more and more sound from his trembling form.
My lips stretched around him, my nose hitting against his pubic bone, and I heard a sob tearing from above as he was consumed in the wet heat. His hands shook as they remained curled against the door and his knees threatened to buckle. I scooted myself forward, holding him tight, a silent promise that I would never let him fall.
Spit gathered at the corners of my mouth and my jaw began to ache as I bobbed my head against him. His thighs trembled as a litany of needy moans encircled us as he whispered nonsense from above me and I moaned around the cock shoved down my throat. When I pulled off, I looked up at him, knowing I looked a wreck and yet feeling a sense of pride. His own lips were red and swollen from where he had been biting them and his cheeks flushed.
Standing, I held out my hand to him. When he took it, I yanked him forward catching him as he stumbled into me and grabbing his chin between my fingers. “Where’s your bedroom?” I could feel the warm slick against my thighs, but didn’t want to do this against a wall. Not tonight.
His eyes flickered downwards, his tongue sneaking out to wet his plump lips. Pulling his shirt over his head, he let out a shaky breath and began leading me down a rickety set of metal stairs. I was still completely clothed behind him, watching as his eyes skittered around the room, as if this moment was significant somehow. I made sure to hold his hand tightly in case it was.
Milo’s bed was nothing more than a mattress on the ground, tucked away in the corner next to an old whiskey vat. He had piles of blankets and pillows strewn across it and the bed looked as if it had not once been made.
Pushing him downwards, I stood over him, looking down at his flushed skin. He lay on his back, supported by his forearms, cock red and hard, the smattering of freckles across his shoulders prominent in the dim light. Slowly, I tugged my own clothes off, letting them pool to the floor by the bed.
Milo’s eyes went wide at the sight of me, and he scrambled forward. “Shit, $name. What the fuck happened to you?” When he tried to stand I pushed him back down to the bed again, shaking my head.
“Not now,” I told him.
“You’re hurt,” he protested.
Cupping his cheek, I tipped his head upwards, making his amber eyes lock with mine. “So are you.” He gaped at me, the urge to protest running across his face but just as quickly falling away as I straddled his hips and pushed him down to the bed. He fell back against the crumpled blankets, eyes wide as I continued to keep control. Running my nails down his chest, across hardened nipples and down to the small trail of hair just below his navel, I pumped his cock a few more times, reminding him who was on top this round.
Taking his hand, I brought it to my mouth, placing his fingers inside. I began sucking them, running my tongue across each callous and seam, coating them with my spit. With my free hand, I reached back, continuing to play with his hole, pulling his fingers out of my mouth with a wet pop. His eyes fluttered shut as I teased him, hips bucking upwards and cock grinding against my sex. When I guided his hand downwards, he didn’t hesitate. Slowly, he began swirling them in the wet heat of my sex, pushing them between my lips and burying them deep inside. I gasped loudly, rocking against his palm and grinding against him as my own finger continued to tease him.
I could feel the way he began to stretch me as he scissored his fingers back and forth. When the tip of my own fingers pushed inside him, he let out a small whimper, his cock twitching with interest against his belly. He rubbed against my core with the heel of his hand, sending small bursts of pleasure ricocheting up my spine. I ground against him, soaking his fingers and feeling my own orgasm begin to build. Not wanting to wait any longer, I pulled his hand away and angled my hips above him. Bracing my hands on his chest, I hovered above his aching cock for one anguished moment before sinking down on him with a low groan.
Milo bucked beneath me, his arms coming up to wrap around my shoulders as his breath stuttered from his lungs. I hushed him soothingly, nipping at his bottom lip and swallowing each sweaty gasp he had. Slowly, I began to rock against him, grinding myself on his lap until he was buried deep inside.
He clung to me, crying out as I began to bounce against him, setting a slow and steady pace that I knew was driving him to a weeping mess.
“Milo,” I whispered.
He was whimpering, his eyes squeezed shut and cheeks bright with sweat and exertion. Lips parted in a continuous pleasured moan, I rolled my hips against him.
“Milo,” I tried again.
When he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown. But I wanted him to look at me. I didn’t want him running away like he had so many times before. I wanted him here, with me.
Slowly, I pulled myself off him, letting the head of his cock rest at my entrance. I watched as his eyes ticked downwards, looking at where we joined. I waited until his gaze was locked on to his wet cock and my dripping sex, before I sank back down onto him. His eyes fluttered before rolling to the back of his head.
I fucked him agonizingly slow, raising and lowering myself in one slow drag. When my name began to fall from his lips, I knew he was close to tipping over the edge. Hair plastered to his forehead, he began to beg, chest rising and falling in heaving breaths, eyes slightly unfocused as he tried to keep them on me.
“Fuck,” he whimpered. “Please. Please please please…”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I’ve got you.”
He shook his head as if to tell me no, but I pushed him back against the bed again and began bouncing in his lap in earnest. I could feel him pulling in and out of me as he snapped his hips upwards, trying to match the pace I set. His thighs slapped against mine, the breath punched from his throat, as we began to set a brutal pace that had both of us gasping in need. Milo was red-faced and sweaty, tears tracking down his cheeks as he reached forward, I could help but think that he had never been more beautiful, or more real, than at this moment.
Grabbing his hand I placed it between us. He began rubbing against me as my hips came down on him in a harsh slap. When he came, it was deep inside me, his teeth buried in my shoulder as I clenched around him, my own orgasm ripping through me like a knife. I didn’t stop though. I couldn’t. I kept rising and falling against his dripping cock, chasing the aftershocks until my body collapsed against him.
Afterwards, when both our breathing turned to normal and I felt myself slide out, I looked at him. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide, his body trembling against mine. Grabbing a blanket, I pulled it up and over the two of us, pulling him close as I ran my hands up and down his back.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to him. He curled towards me then, tucking his head beneath my chin. Frowning, I swallowed thickly. “Milo?”
“I’m alright,” he rasped out, his voice raw and broken. “It was just…”
“A lot?”
He laughed, the sound like shattered glass. “Yeah. A lot.”
I felt my heart ache at how small he sounded. “Do you want me to leave?”
There was a long bout of silence before he curled his legs against me, tucking himself close. “I don’t think I could handle it if you did.”
Laying a kiss across his head, I ran my fingers through the sweaty locks of his hair. “Then I’ll stay,” I assured him. And the two of us laid there, on an old mattress on the ground, sweat drying across our skin.
[[Next|Aftercare 2]]Pushing me against the wall, Milo clawed at my clothes. I could feel his hands slip up beneath my tunic, running across the bare flesh of my belly to paw at my breasts. One hand ran down my side, clutching my thigh and hooking it over his hip, so he could grind against me. I felt him, already hard in the soft confines of his sweats, the fabric rubbing across him and providing friction to the arousal that was beginning to consume us both. Tangling my fingers in his hair I held his head against me, nipping at his lower lip and feeling him gasp. Heat coiled within me, the scrapes and cuts I had received in the Deep suddenly a vivid ache. I could have lost everything. I could have lost him. I had been so close to never returning, and that knowledge now sat in my chest uncomfortably.
Flipping Milo around, I shoved him against the door, catching a flash of shock in his eyes before they lit up with hunger. Sinking to my knees, I pulled at his sweats, yanking them down past his hips while keeping a hand firm on his belly. His erection was hard and the needy pant that escaped him was one that would stick with me for a long while. Taking him in my hand, I slowly began pumping him up and down, the slide of my palm a hot and dry drag against his skin. His head thudded against the door, exposing the long line of his throat as he gritted his teeth. I felt heat begin to boil inside me as I watched the way he slid between my curled fingers. One hand came down to grip my shoulder as he desperately tried to find something to hold onto, his hips arching forward involuntarily.
Suddenly, I was consumed. I wanted to feel every inch of him. I wanted to feel alive after the grave that I had wandered, and I wanted to make him feel me, reaffirm my existence. Remind him that I was here and very real. That I was not running no matter how hard he tried to push me away.
Looking up at him through the thick of my lashes, I pumped his cock roughly, demanding his full attention. His eyes were bright and caught up in the storm of emotion that swirled around us. No longer was he in control and there was a clawing need to watch him fly apart. To hear what it sounded like when Milo no longer could orchestrate every second of our time. Because that’s what he had been doing, I now realized. He had been making sure every moment, every conversation and sly glance, had been curated to his liking. To his control. Now that control was shattering, and the look on his flushed face was one that had me aching in need.
Keeping eye contact, I leaned forward, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock and smacking his hands away as they came to rest against my cheek. He whimpered as I hungrily sucked him into my mouth, running my tongue along the vein there and feeling the way he curved towards my cheek.
“$name?” It was a question. He was uncertain. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do or what he was even allowed, and it left him unsteady. I pushed myself further, feeling him hit the back of my throat. With my free hand, I palmed at the globes of his ass, snaking a finger back towards his puckered hole and massaging it with my thumb. He startled at first, but a wrecked sound fell from his lips and echoed across the distillery. It sent a bolt of desire running through me, causing me to ache between my legs. Before I could stop myself, I swallowed him to the root, pulling more and more sound from his trembling form.
My lips stretched around him, my nose hitting against his pubic bone, and I heard a sob tearing from above as he was consumed in the wet heat. His hands shook as they remained curled against the door and his knees threatened to buckle. I scooted myself forward, holding him tight, a silent promise that I would never let him fall.
Spit gathered at the corners of my mouth and my jaw began to ache as I bobbed my head against him. His thighs trembled as a litany of needy moans encircled us as he whispered nonsense from above me and I moaned around the cock shoved down my throat. When I pulled off, I looked up at him, knowing I looked a wreck and yet feeling a sense of pride. His own lips were red and swollen from where he had been biting them and his cheeks flushed.
Standing, I held out my hand to him. When he took it, I yanked him forward catching him as he stumbled into me and grabbing his chin between my fingers. “Where’s your bedroom?” I could feel myself straining against my own pants but didn’t want to do this against a wall. Not tonight.
His eyes flickered downwards, his tongue sneaking out to wet his plump lips. Pulling his shirt over his head, he let out a shaky breath and began leading me down a rickety set of metal stairs. I was still completely clothed behind him, watching as his eyes skittered around the room, as if this moment was significant somehow. I made sure to hold his hand tightly in case it was.
Milo’s bed was nothing more than a mattress on the ground, tucked away in the corner next to an old whiskey vat. He had piles of blankets and pillows strewn across it and the bed looked as if it had not once been made.
Pushing him downwards, I stood over him, looking down at his flushed skin. He lay on his back, supported by his forearms, cock red and hard, the smattering of freckles across his shoulders prominent in the dim light. Slowly, I tugged my own clothes off, letting them pool to the floor by the bed.
Milo’s eyes went wide at the sight of me, and he scrambled forward. “Shit, $name. What the fuck happened to you?” When he tried to stand I pushed him back down to the bed again, shaking my head.
“Not now,” I told him.
“You’re hurt,” he protested.
Cupping his cheek, I tipped his head upwards, making his amber eyes lock with mine. “So are you.” He gaped at me, the urge to protest running across his face but just as quickly falling away as I straddled his hips and pushed him down to the bed. He fell back against the crumpled blankets, eyes wide as I continued to keep control. Running my nails down his chest, across hardened nipples and down to the small trail of hair just below his navel, I pumped his cock a few more times, reminding him who was on top this round.
“Do you have supplies?” I asked.
He blinked owlishly at me, like he didn’t quite know what I was talking about. When it clicked, I watched him swallow thickly, bobbing his head in a nod. One hand reached out to his bedside table. Opening the drawer I saw a small tube of lube, along with a few toys. He handed me the tube, shutting the drawer quickly before I could get any ideas. I couldn’t help the small smile at the action as he lay spread beneath me but was still somehow embarrassed by what he hid beside his bed.
Slowly, I spread the slick across my fingers and reached behind us, teasing his hole. Milo hissed, bucking and arching beneath me, eyes fluttering shut. When I slowly pressed one finger inside him, he began to squirm in earnest. Callused fingers came up to toy with my own cock, running across the slit and gliding precum down my shaft. I let him play as I added a second finger and watched as he pushed against my hand, fucking my fingers in a slow and grinding rhythm.
Leaning forward, I captured his lips against my own, seeking out his tongue. He surged towards me like a dying man, desperate to seek out comfort as he pulled one leg upwards, allowing myself more access. I scissored my fingers back and forth, stretching him for what was to come, before finally I found the small spongy surface deep inside, and crooked the tip of my finger across it.
When Milo bucked beneath me, it was with a shout, his arms coming up to wrap around my shoulders. I hushed him soothingly, nipping at his bottom lip and swallowing each sweaty gasp he had. Pulling up, I took his hand, pouring some of the lube across it before guiding it to my own erection. Together, we slid or hands up and down, coating my dick until it was shiny and slick. I let him linger there for a minute, tipping my head back and feeling my chest rise and fall with desire. With the way Milo was panting, I didn’t think he could wait much longer. Sitting up, I angled myself just right, pulling his legs so they bracketed my hips, and slowly pushed in.
Milo cried out, his moan deep and thready, his head falling back and thrashing from side to side as he adjusted. I pushed forward, plastering myself against his chest and bracing my arms on either side of his face.
“Milo,” I whispered.
He was whimpering, his eyes squeezed shut and cheeks bright with sweat and exertion. Lips parted in a continuous pleasured moan, I rolled my hips against him.
“Milo,” I tried again.
When he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown. But I wanted him to look at me. I didn’t want him running away like he had so many times before. I wanted him here, with me.
Slowly, I pulled out, pausing for a moment to make sure he was paying attention. His eyes ticked down to where I was pressed against him, and when I pushed back in, snapping my hips forward, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his hips arched off the bed.
I rocked my hips, fucking him slowly, not yet changing the pace to the fast and dirty one I knew he loved. When my name began to fall from his lips, I knew he was close to tipping over the edge. Hair plastered to his forehead, he began to beg, chest rising and falling in heaving breaths, eyes slightly unfocused as he tried to keep them on me.
“Fuck,” he whimpered. “Please. Please please please…”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I’ve got you.”
He shook his head as if to tell me no, but I grabbed his legs and pushed them forward, bending him in two. The breath was punched out of him as I began snapping my hips back and forth, fucking him the way I knew he liked, feeling my thighs slap against him. He was red-faced and sweaty, tears tracking down his cheeks as he reached forward, clawing at my wounds and at the same time clinging to me. When I felt my balls draw up against me, I knew it was close to being over.
Folding him in two, I reached between us and began to pump his red and weeping cock. He cried in relief at the contact, back bowed off the bed as he gripped the sheets beneath us. When he came, it was with a mess across his belly and his teeth buried in my shoulder. I felt my own orgasm take me not long after, shuddering down my back as I shot deep within him, continuing to fuck him through the aftershocks.
Afterwards, when both our breathing turned to normal and I felt myself slide out, I looked at him. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide, his body trembling against mine. Grabbing a blanket, I pulled it up and over the two of us, pulling him close as I ran my hands up and down his back.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to him. He curled towards me then, tucking his head beneath my chin. Frowning, I swallowed thickly. “Milo?”
“I’m alright,” he rasped out, his voice raw and broken. “It was just…”
“A lot?”
He laughed, the sound like shattered glass. “Yeah. A lot.”
I felt my heart ache at how small he sounded. “Do you want me to leave?”
There was a long bout of silence before he curled his legs against me, tucking himself close. “I don’t think I could handle it if you did.”
Laying a kiss across his head, I ran my fingers through the sweaty locks of his hair. “Then I’ll stay,” I assured him. And the two of us laid there, on an old mattress on the ground, sweat drying across our skin.
[[Next|Aftercare 2]]I took the familiar paths back towards Hazel’s, the alleys far more silent than they had been the last time I was out. The remnants of the Lantern Festival could still be seen in the furthest corners but the jovial laughter and drunk revelry that had filled the streets was all but gone now.
I thought about Milo as I came to the three-tiered fountain. I thought about what he had said before I had left for the Deep. The pain in his eyes over Hazel and I going down there on a mission he thought foolish. I knew it was more than that. I had known it was more than that from the moment it happened. The Deep was going to represent to him all the things I had a suspicion he had yet to face. He didn’t want the answers that Hazel did, because if they turned out to be true, then he would take that as a personal failure. And now, the closer we got to unveiling certain mysteries of their past, the more distant he was going to become.
Thinking back on it, how many times had he done it before? This man who was quick to love and laugh turned sour at the mention of the Gatekeeper. At the mention of Malcolm. At the mention of finding the Barons. And instead of unpacking the ugliness he had kept close all these years, he pretended like it wasn’t happening. Something that became a lot harder to do with me around.
Hazel had once told me he lived in an abandoned whiskey distillery on the outskirts of the Spice District. It was an alley that was easily missed but was marked by a stack of crates that had empty blue-green bottles sitting dusty just at the opening. I went in search of that now. Part of me knew I should go back to the apothecary, but I wanted to see him. Either before I lost my nerve, or before the next big thing greeted us and sent me spiraling off into the dark once more.
Knowing what I was looking for, the alleyway was not hard to find. It turned in two sharp juts down towards another pile of barrels and crates. I saw a stuffed animal sitting out on one of them. <<if $chapterfour == "ruins">> One he had gotten right before we had gone down to the ruins and talked to Basalt. <</if>> Other than that, there was only a flickering yellow light and a large rusted metal door.
Taking a deep breath, I banged on it loudly, the boom of my fist I imagined echoing throughout the market.
It took a moment before the door rolled back. Milo stood there, hair disheveled and face lined in tension. He was barefoot, wearing soft grey sweatpants and a white shirt. For whatever reason, that shocked me the most. <<if $milosex == "true">> I had seen the man naked and his face twisted in pleasure but for whatever reason, this was more intimate. <</if>>
“$name.” His voice cracked a bit at the end. The last thing I think he had been expecting was me.
“I’m going to say something, and you’re going to listen,” I told him. He looked startled at that but kept his mouth shut. “I know that this is hard for you. I know that what we are doing is not something that is easy for probably a ton of reasons I am not even aware of yet. But anyone that cares about you can see it. They can see that what we are doing is taking a toll. The way I figure it, things ended badly for you last time around. You lost the person you cared for when you messed around with the Barons. And here we are, doing it all over again.”
He said nothing, the pain in his eyes naked at my words.
“You lost Malcolm,” I said bluntly. He flinched away at the sound of his name, but didn’t run. “He died and there was nothing you could do about it. And I don’t think you once stopped to deal with that. I think you were so worried about Hazel and so intent on shoving aside your hurt that you let that sit. You were banking on never having to face your mistakes. And now that they’re here, you are pushing people away. You don’t want to know about Malcolm, so you push Hazel away and make her feel small. You don’t want to see the people you care for get hurt so you push and pull me any time a situation with the Barons comes up. But I’m not running away, Milo. I’m right here. I’m willing to do this with you. I’m willing to help you. To be here for you. To listen and not shy away from whatever is going on in your head. But you have to meet me halfway. You have to be the one to stop running.”
As my words guttered out, I stared at him, my breath coming in ragged pants. I could feel my heart slam against my chest and my stomach flounder as he continued to just stare at me, unblinking. The light from within the distillery haloed around him, softening his edges. But as the moments stretched on, and he refused to say a word, I felt the pit in my stomach begin to grow. I had tried. I had laid myself out there and let it all fall in a broken and ugly mess between us because I needed to know where we stood before moving forward. But he was giving me nothing. Nothing but empty silence.
Head dropping, I made to turn away. It was all the answer I supposed I needed, and I didn’t want to continue standing there like a fool.
When I felt him grab my arm, I shivered. There was no hesitation on his part. When he pulled me in and pressed his lips to mine I felt myself suck in a deep inhalation of breath, wrapping my arms around his neck and grabbing him just as close. His fingers curled against my back, into the torn edges of a shirt still caked with sand, as he slowly backed us into the distillery. The door slammed with a rolling clang, and Milo pushed me against it. I gasped as the cool metal was pressed against my back.
“Why are you like this?” he whispered, his voice broken and eyes shining with something he didn’t wish for me to see.
“Like what?” He was pressing his face into my neck, his body shaking. His skin felt fevered and tight, and I wondered what all had happened while I had been gone. “Like what, Milo?”
“Real,” he stuttered.
[[Next|Stop him]]“I think before we go any further, we should talk.”
She blinked at me with those big, bright eyes of hers. “Did something happen? Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?”
“No. Hazel, no.” Reaching out, I took both her hands in mine. “I just want to have a conversation with you before things go too much further between us. It’s about…” I trailed off, trying to figure out the best way to go about this. It was something I was only recently discovering about myself and the words were hard to grab hold of. “I don’t think I want to have sex,” I told her.
“Oh,” her shoulders slumped in relief. “Is that all? You scared me. I thought you were going to tell me that you didn’t actually like me or that you had changed your mind.”
“Of course not. How could I change my mind about you?”
“$name, if you do not wish to have sex that’s fine,” she assured me. “Whether it's a forever kind of thing or something that we address later is entirely up to you. But I am not going anywhere. No matter what.”
I pressed my head to hers, feeling the adoration for her grow even more.
“Were you really so concerned?” she asked, her hands coming up to press against my side.
“A little.”
“Oh $name,” she laughed. “I have gone most of my life without sex. Not having it is not going to be a dealbreaker for me. Besides, if I really need something, I can take care of myself. It’s what I’ve been doing most of my life.”
“You haven’t had partners before?” I asked.
“A few. Nothing significant. All of them have been over just as quick as they began.” Lacing her fingers in mine, she cuddled close. “What I can tell you is that what we have feels far more important than anything I’ve ever had with anyone else. I’m not going to throw it away over sex.”
I nodded, kissing her gently. “Thank you.”
[[Next|Could we actually just curl up and fall asleep together?]]
<<set $asexual to "true">>I followed her down to the bed, the two of us falling back on a mound of pillows and quilts. Beneath me, her legs spread apart, allowing me to settle between them. I could feel the heat of her body and the way it shifted against me. Her fingers came up to card through my hair, eyes dark in the light of the paper moon and the wisps hovering outside her window. I felt a nervous tremble cord around me as I stared down at her. She was so beautiful. Someone soft and sweet and I suddenly was unable to understand how I had gotten here. How I had even become so lucky.
“Are you okay?” she whispered to me, her hands dancing down the side of my cheek.
“Yeah,” I said back. “Just trying to drink you in.”
The smile that lit up her face wrapped around me in a warm embrace. Slowly, her hands began to move downwards, ghosting over the fabric of my shirt. When her nose wrinkled, and a laugh escaped her, I looked at her curiously.
“You’re a mess,” she whispered. I was still covered in the Deep. Salt and bits of sand clinging to me in a dry crunch “Come on.” Tapping my hip, she pushed me aside, going over to her vanity to get a basin of water. When she came back, she settled against my hip. “Take off your shirt.”
There was a dip in her voice I wasn’t used to. A sweet sort of huskiness that had my cock twitching at the sound of. Slowly, I pulled my tunic up and over my head, hissing as the night air hit my battered skin. Hazel frowned at the sight of me but said nothing more. Instead, she slowly started cleaning me up, running a wet and warm cloth across my body.
Dipping the rag in the water, she rang it out before running it over my chest, swiping it across me in one slow drag, causing my skin to pebble and a shiver to race along my bare arms.
“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed. “Every inch of you.” Leaning down, she pressed her lips against the beads of water that rolled across my ribs, her tongue peeking out to lap them up. I sucked in a harsh breath at the contact, my fingers twisting in the sheets beneath me. When her lips moved upwards to close around the flush of my nipple, I arched beneath her. Her tongue flicked across me, laving at me sweetly while her other hand trailed low down across my belly, teasing the waistband of my pants and running the tip of her finger just under the fabric. When she pulled back, she had the sweetest smile on her lips.
Surging forward, I pressed my mouth to hers, feeling my bare chest scrape against the front of her corset. With deft hands, I began to untie her, pulling the boned material from her body before tugging at her white linen shirt. I moaned as I tossed it aside. She wore nothing beneath her blouse, leaving her breasts heavy and free. Pert brown nipples darkened at each tip, the sight of which elicited a deep moan from me.
Tipping my head forward, I cupped one within my hand, sucking the flesh between my lips and feeling her gasp. Her hands came up to tangle in my hair, petting me softly as I laved at her chest. Heat began to flicker between my thighs as I grew hard, straining against my pants. Next to me, I could see the way she squirmed and as she pushed her own hand up and under her skirt, I groaned wantonly.
Pushing her down upon the bed I tugged her skirt from her. Her sex was wet and glistening, staring up at me. Unashamedly, Hazel moved her fingers back down, slipping them against her slick folds and panting as she stared up at me. Her eyes were darker now, a deep gold that I was not used to seeing. As she began to play with herself, I watched in awe. Slowly, she spread her legs, parting them to show me the swollen bud between she kept hidden between her thighs.
I gasped, feeling my mouth water as I longed to lean forward and taste her. But, as I began to tip forward, she stopped, shaking her head.
“I want to see you too,” she said softly.
Fumbling, I stripped from my own clothes, letting them fall to the side of the bed. She rewarded me by pushing two wet fingers into my mouth, rubbing her juices across my bottom lip. I groaned around the digits and crawled up her body, straddling her hips. When my erection ran up her wet seam, I closed my eyes in pleasure. I could feel her lips flutter against my cock, puffy and slick with her own arousal. She gasped as I dragged myself across her hardened clit, rubbing my head against the hard nub. Her pupils were blown, her lip was sucked between her teeth, and the flush on her face was a deep rose. When I began to roll my hips against her, she arched beneath me, her moan vibrating across my skin.
Dipping my head downwards, I captured her lips, licking into the confines of her mouth as I ground against her. Our arousal mixed, making our thighs slick and I could feel Hazel panting beneath me. When she arched upwards, I stared at her in shock. A fine tremor coursed through her body as she let her release roll across her skin in waves.
“Oh,” she breathed, eyes fluttering closed. She didn’t stop though. If anything, it spurred her on. With one hand, she reached between us, grasping at my length as she pumped her hand up and down. My head fell forward between my shoulders as she swiped her thumb across the slit, gathering precum and wetting my shaft. The pleased giggle she gave me when I let out a wanton groan, nearly had me tipping over the edge.
“You’re so warm,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect that. Is this okay? Do you want me to continue or…”
I nodded.
With her free hand, she cupped my face, all the while stroking me between my thighs and sending a delicious heat licking up my spine. “I have toys,” she said. “I think tonight I want to do things just like this but maybe later we could…”
I felt myself shudder, my mouth falling open with a soft groan as I imagine the things she could do to me. The things I wanted to do to her.
“Just let me know if something is uncomfortable,” she whispered. “I think I can have another one so don’t count me out just yet, okay?”
I laughed a little at that. Her cheeks were a deep crimson that bled down to the top of her chest. “I don’t think I could ever count you out,” I told her.
Pulling her upwards, I twisted her around and positioned her in my lap. Her thick thighs wrapped tightly around me as we began to slowly grind together, our lips locked in a searing kiss while fingers were left free to explore. The room around us became heady and warm. The musky scent of arousal filling the air. From the corner of my eye I could see the waxy candles on her desk flicker before bursting into life, their flame sizzling within the room in a sharp pop of heat. Hazel sucked in a deep breath, her body bowed in my arms as she rocked against me. Her hair had fallen from her scarf, cascading down her back in coiled waves as her mouth was open in one continuous moan.
For a moment, I pulled away, staring down at her. Her thick tan folds and the soft hair that covered her were on display. The swollen bud of her clit shining with both our arousal, and the way she spread herself for me, had me nearly tipping over the edge. When she slipped her own finger inside herself, the digits disappearing up to her knuckles, I couldn’t take it any further.
Grabbing her by the hips, I positioned her over my cock before sinking home. My mouth came down to suck at her chest, nibbling at the skin there as I began to thrust inside her. She let out a gasp of surprise as the light of the room began to flicker, the small kerosene lamps bursting into high flame. My head whipped around to look at them, but she grabbed me roughly by my cheeks, pushing me back down towards her chest. As she began bouncing on my lap, I gripped her hips tight, guiding her up and down my shaft and watching myself disappear inside her greedy folds.
“Oh, $name,” she breathed, her voice hitching up higher and higher. When she began crying out in full I felt the heat explode behind me, my thighs becoming drenched as she rocked herself against me. Her free hand clutched at my shoulder as her orgasm built inside her. When she tipped over the edge it was with a scream, the plants around us vibrating with her cries. As she clenched around me, I let loose, snapping my hips upwards as I fucked into her roughly. It was with three pumps that I spilled inside her, coating her insides and feeling our combined juices leak against our thighs.
Around us, the air began to cool. The fires that flickered high on the flames guttering out. It left us in darkness with nothing but the sound of our own breath filling the room.
“That was…” she trailed off, peeking up from where she had been resting against my thigh. When I locked eyes with her, she ducked her head down again, trying to hide. The woman had gotten herself off in front of me and was someone still able to blush demurely.
Pulling her upwards, I pressed my lips firmly to her own, tasting myself and making sure to lick every last drop of my arousal from her tongue. When I pulled away, she was flushed and panting, chest heaving with the beginning tendrils of another aching arousal.
“We need to get you clean,” she whispered.
“I kind of like being dirty.”
She smacked me lightly on the hip but ducked her head towards me anyway, giving me another searing kiss. “Come on,” she murmured. “Let’s take a bath.” Rising from my lap, she stood before me, stretching in the moonlight. Her generous curves swayed this way and that, her arms stretching over her head as she was put on full display. My mouth went dry as she turned, walking to the on suite bathroom. As she paused at the door, she looked over her shoulder. “Coming?” she asked.
I groaned as I slipped off the bed and followed her inside. I didn’t think I would be sleeping much that night.
[[Chapter Eight|Chapter Eight - Hazel]]I followed her down to the bed, the two of us falling back on a mound of pillows and quilts. Beneath me, her legs spread apart, allowing me to settle between them. I could feel the heat of her body and the way it shifted against me. Her fingers came up to card through my hair, eyes dark in the light of the paper moon and the wisps hovering outside her window. I felt a nervous tremble cord around me as I stared down at her. She was so beautiful. Someone soft and sweet and I suddenly was unable to understand how I had gotten here. How I had even become so lucky.
“Are you okay?” she whispered to me, her hands dancing down the side of my cheek.
“Yeah,” I said back. “Just trying to drink you in.”
The smile that lit up her face wrapped around me in a warm embrace. Slowly, her hands began to move downwards, ghosting over the fabric of my shirt. When her nose wrinkled, and a laugh escaped her, I looked at her curiously.
“You’re a mess,” she whispered. I was still covered in the Deep. Salt and bits of sand clinging to me in a dry crunch “Come on.” Tapping my hip, she pushed me aside, going over to her vanity to get a basin of water. When she came back, she settled against my hip. “Take off your shirt.”
There was a dip in her voice I wasn’t used to. A sweet sort of huskiness that had my thighs clenching together at the sound of. Slowly, I pulled my tunic up and over my head, hissing as the night air hit my battered skin. Hazel frowned at the sight of me but said nothing more. Instead, she slowly started cleaning me up, running a wet and warm cloth across my body. When she got to the bandeau I kept wrapped around my chest, she looked at me for only a second before unwrapping it.
My breast were exposed to the cool air, my nipples pebbling to hard points. Dipping the rag in the water, she rang it out before running it over me again, swiping it across my chest in a slow drag. My lips parted as she rubbed against each hardened tip, sending a shiver across my skin.
“You’re so pretty,” she breathed. “Every inch of you.” Leaning down, she pressed her lips against the beads of water that rolled across my ribs, her tongue peeking out to lap them up. I sucked in a harsh breath at the contact, my fingers twisting in the sheets beneath me. When her lips moved upwards to close around the flush of my nipple, I arched beneath her. Her tongue flicked across me, laving at me sweetly while her other hand came up to fondle the aching heaviness of my breast. She cupped it within her tanned palm, feeling the weight of it. When she pulled back, she had the sweetest smile on her lips.
Surging forward, I pressed my mouth to hers, feeling my bare chest scrape against the front of her corset. With deft hands, I began to untie her, pulling at the boned material before tugging at her white linen shirt. I moaned as I tossed it aside. She wore nothing beneath her blouse, leaving her breasts heavy and free. Pert brown nipples darkened at each tip, eliciting a moan from me at the mere sight of them.
Tipping my head forward, I cupped one within my hand, sucking the flesh between my lips and feeling her gasp. Her hands came up to tangle in my hair, petting me softly as I laved at her chest. Wetness was pooling between my thighs and a fire that I had not expected was beginning to boil. Next to me, I could see the way she squirmed and as she pushed her own hand up and under her skirt, I groaned wantonly.
Pushing her down upon the bed I tugged her skirt from her. Her sex was wet and glistening, staring up at me. Unashamedly, Hazel moved her fingers back down, slipping them against her slick folds and panting as she stared up at me. Her eyes were darker now, a deep gold that I was not used to seeing. As she began to play with herself, I watched in awe. Slowly, she spread her legs, parting them to show me the swollen bud she kept hidden between her thighs.
I gasped, feeling my mouth water as I longed to lean down and taste her. But, as I began to tip forward, she stopped, shaking her head.
“I want to see you too,” she said softly.
Fumbling, I stripped from my own clothes, letting them fall to the side of the bed. She rewarded me by pushing two wet fingers into my mouth, rubbing her juices across my bottom lip. I groaned around the digits and crawled up her body, straddling her hips. When I felt my sex touch her own, my eyes fluttered closed, my entire world suddenly pinpointed on where we were locked together. I could feel her wet lips against my center, puffy and slick with her own arousal, while my own lips opened up to her. She gasped as I dragged myself across her hardened clit. Opening my eyes, I stared at her. Her pupils were blown, her lip was sucked between her teeth, and the flush on her face was a deep rose. When I began to roll my hips against her, she arched beneath me, her moan vibrating across my skin.
Dipping my head downwards, I captured her mouth against mine, licking into the confines as I ground against her. Our arousal mixed, making our thighs slick and I could feel Hazel panting beneath me. When she arched upwards, I stared at her in shock. A fine tremor coursed through her body as she let her release roll across her skin in waves.
“Oh,” she breathed, eyes fluttering closed. She didn’t stop though. If anything, it spurred her on. With one hand, she reached between us, flicking her thumb across me and rubbing in wide, firm circles. I let my forehead fall against her shoulder, my own need curling at my spine. When she flattened her palm and ground the heel against me, I felt a whimper escape me in a silent plea. The soft and sweet giggle she gave me in return nearly sent me over the edge.
“You’re so warm,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect that. Is this okay? Do you want another finger or...”
I nodded.
With her free hand, she cupped my face, all the while crooking two fingers in and out of me. “I have toys,” she said. “I think tonight I want to do things just like this but maybe later we could…”
I felt myself clench around her at the very thought of it, my insides squeezing her tight as I fell over the precipice. When I opened my eyes, her fingers were still inside me, and she was looking at me with the most loving smile.
“You want one more?”
“Do you?” I asked, raising a brow. She blushed, the deep crimson of it reaching across her chest.
“Yes please.”
Pulling her upwards, I twisted her around and positioned her in my lap. Her thick thighs wrapped tightly around me as we began to slowly grind together, our lips locked in a searing kiss while fingers were left free to explore. The room around us became heady and warm. The musky scent of arousal filling the air. From the corner of my eye I could see the waxy candles on her desk flicker before bursting into life, their flame sizzling within the room in a sharp pop of heat. Hazel sucked in a deep breath, her body bowed in my arms as she rocked against me. Her hair had fallen from her scarf, cascading down her back in coiled waves as her mouth was open in one continuous moan.
For a moment, I pulled away, staring down at her. Her thick tan folds and the soft hair that covered her were on display. The swollen bud of her clit shining with both our arousal, and the way she spread herself for me, had me nearly tipping over the edge. When she slipped her own finger inside herself, the digits disappearing up to her knuckles, I couldn’t take it any further.
Grabbing her by the hips, I positioned her to slide the hardened nub of my own sex against her, moving us together as my mouth came down around her nipple in a bruising suck. She let out a gasp of surprise as the light of the room began to flicker, the small kerosene lamps bursting into high flame. My head whipped around to look at them, but she grabbed me roughly by my cheeks, pushing me back down towards her chest. As she began bouncing on my lap, I slipped my own finger in alongside hers and the two of us began fucking her together.
“Oh, $name,” she breathed, her voice hitching up higher and higher. When she began crying out in full I felt the heat explode behind me, my thighs becoming drenched as she rocked herself on our fingers. Her free hand clutched at my shoulder as her orgasm built inside her. When she tipped over the edge it was with a scream, the plants around us vibrating with her cries. Before she had even finished she pulled off me, sliding down to bury her face between my thighs, her tongue swiping over my clit. I was done within a minute, my juices coating her chin, the two of us laying together, panting and spent.
Around us, the air began to cool. The fires that flickered high on the flames guttering out. It left us in darkness with nothing but the sound of our own breath filling the room.
“That was…” she trailed off, peeking up from where she had been resting against my thigh. When I locked eyes with her, she ducked her head down again, trying to hide. The woman had gotten herself off in front of me and was someone still able to blush demurely.
Pulling her upwards, I pressed my lips firmly to her own, tasting myself and making sure to lick every last drop of my arousal from her tongue. When I pulled away, she was flushed and panting, chest heaving with the beginning tendrils of another aching arousal.
“We need to get you clean,” she whispered.
“I kind of like being dirty.”
She smacked me lightly on the hip but ducked her head towards me anyway, giving me another searing kiss. “Come on,” she murmured. “Let’s take a bath.” Rising from my lap, she stood before me, stretching in the moonlight. Her generous curves swayed this way and that, her arms stretching over her head as she was put on full display. My mouth went dry as she turned, walking to the on suite bathroom. As she paused at the door, she looked over her shoulder. “Coming?” she asked.
I groaned as I slipped off the bed and followed her inside. I didn’t think I would be sleeping much that night.
[[Chapter Eight|Chapter Eight - Hazel]]I followed her down to the bed, the two of us falling back on a mound of pillows and quilts. Beneath me, her legs spread apart, allowing me to settle between them. I could feel the heat of her body and the way it shifted against me. Her fingers came up to card through my hair, eyes dark in the light of the paper moon and the wisps hovering outside her window. I felt a nervous tremble cord around me as I stared down at her. She was so beautiful. Someone soft and sweet and I suddenly was unable to understand how I had gotten here. How I had even become so lucky.
“Are you okay?” she whispered to me, her hands dancing down the side of my cheek.
“Yeah,” I said back. “Just trying to drink you in.”
The smile that lit up her face wrapped around me in a warm embrace. Slowly, her hands began to move downwards, ghosting over the fabric of my shirt. When her nose wrinkled, and a laugh escaped her, I looked at her curiously.
“You’re a mess,” she whispered. I was still covered in the Deep. Salt and bits of sand clinging to me in a dry crunch “Come on.” Tapping my hip, she pushed me aside, going over to her vanity to get a basin of water. When she came back, she settled against my hip. “Take off your shirt.”
There was a dip in her voice I wasn’t used to. A sweet sort of huskiness that had my thighs clenching together at the sound of. Slowly, I pulled my tunic up and over my head, hissing
as the night air hit my battered skin. Hazel frowned at the sight of me but said nothing more. Instead, she slowly started cleaning me up, running a wet and warm cloth across my body.
Dipping the rag in the water, she rang it out before running it over my chest, swiping it across me in one slow drag, causing my skin to pebble and a shiver to race along my bare arms.
“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed. “Every inch of you.” Leaning down, she pressed her lips against the beads of water that rolled across my ribs, her tongue peeking out to lap them up. I sucked in a harsh breath at the contact, my fingers twisting in the sheets beneath me. When her lips moved upwards to close around the flush of my nipple, I arched beneath her. Her tongue flicked across me, laving at me sweetly while her other hand trailed low down across my belly, teasing the waistband of my pants and running the tip of her finger just under the fabric. When she pulled back, she had the sweetest smile on her lips.
Surging forward, I pressed my mouth to hers, feeling my bare chest scrape against the front of her corset. With deft hands, I began to untie her, pulling the boned material from her before tugging at her white linen shirt. I moaned as I tossed it aside. She wore nothing beneath her blouse, leaving her breasts heavy and free. Pert brown nipples darkened the tip of each one, eliciting a moan from me at the mere sight of them.
Tipping my head forward, I cupped one within my hand, sucking the flesh between my lips and feeling her gasp. Her hands came up to tangle in my hair, petting me softly as I laved at her chest. Heat began to flicker between my thighs as I grew hard, straining against my pants.Next to me, I could see the way she squirmed and as she pushed her own hand up and under her skirt, I groaned wantonly.
Pushing her down upon the bed I tugged her skirt from her. Her sex was wet and glistening, staring up at me. Unashamedly, Hazel moved her fingers back down, slipping them against her slick folds and panting as she stared up at me. Her eyes were darker now, a deep gold that I was not used to seeing. As she began to play with herself, I watched in awe. Slowly, she spread her legs, parting them to show me the swollen bud between she kept hidden between her thighs.
I gasped, feeling my mouth water as I longed to lean forward and taste her. But, as I began to tip forward, she stopped, shaking her head.
“I want to see you too,” she said softly.
Fumbling, I stripped from my own clothes, letting them fall to the side of the bed. She rewarded me by pushing two wet fingers into my mouth, rubbing her juices across my bottom lip. I groaned around the digits and crawled up her body, straddling her hips. When I felt my sex touch her own, my eyes fluttered closed, my entire world suddenly pinpointed on where we were locked together. I could feel her wet lips against my center, puffy and slick with her own arousal, while my own lips opened up to her. She gasped as I dragged myself across her hardened clit. Opening my eyes, I stared at her. Her pupils were blown, her lip was sucked between her teeth, and the flush on her face was a deep rose. When I began to roll my hips against her, she arched beneath me, her moan vibrating across my skin.
Dipping my head downwards, I captured her lips, licking into the confines of her mouth as I ground against her. Our arousal mixed, making our thighs slick and I could feel Hazel panting beneath me. When she arched upwards, I stared at her in shock. A fine tremor coursed through her body as she let her release roll across her skin in waves.
“Oh,” she breathed, eyes fluttering closed. She didn’t stop though. If anything, it spurred her on. With one hand, she reached between us, flicking her thumb across me and rubbing in wide, firm circles. I let my forehead fall against her shoulder, my own need curling at my spine. When she flattened her palm and ground the heel against me, I felt a whimper escape me in a silent plea. The soft and sweet giggle she gave me in return nearly sent me over the edge.
“You’re so warm,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect that. Is this okay? Do you want me to continue or…”
I nodded.
With her free hand, she cupped my face, all the while stroking me between my thighs and sending a delicious heat licking up my spine. “I have toys,” she said. “I think tonight I want to do things just like this but maybe later we could…”
I felt myself shudder, my mouth falling open with a soft groan as I imagine the things she could do to me. The things I wanted to do to her.
“Just let me know if something is uncomfortable,” she whispered. “I think I can have another one so don’t count me out just yet, okay?”
I laughed a little at that. Her cheeks were a deep crimson that bled down to the top of her chest. “I don’t think I could ever count you out,” I told her.
Pulling her upwards, I twisted her around and positioned her in my lap. Her thick thighs wrapped tightly around me as we began to slowly grind together, our lips locked in a searing kiss while fingers were left free to explore. The room around us became heady and warm. The musky scent of arousal filling the air. From the corner of my eye I could see the waxy candles on her desk flicker before bursting into life, their flame sizzling within the room in a sharp pop of heat. Hazel sucked in a deep breath, her body bowed in my arms as she rocked against me. Her hair had fallen from her scarf, cascading down her back in coiled waves as her mouth was open in one continuous moan.
For a moment, I pulled away, staring down at her. Her thick tan folds and the soft hair that covered her were on display. The swollen bud of her clit shining with both our arousal, and the way she spread herself for me, had me nearly tipping over the edge. When she slipped her own finger inside herself, the digits disappearing up to her knuckles, I couldn’t take it any further.
Grabbing her by the hips, I positioned her to slide the hardened nub of my own sex against her, moving us together as my mouth came down around her nipple in a bruising suck. She let out a gasp of surprise as the light of the room began to flicker, the small kerosene lamps bursting into high flame. My head whipped around to look at them, but she grabbed me roughly by my cheeks, pushing me back down towards her chest. As she began bouncing on my lap, I slipped my own finger in alongside hers and the two of us began fucking her together.
“Oh, $name,” she breathed, her voice hitching up higher and higher. When she began crying out in full I felt the heat explode behind me, my thighs becoming drenched as she rocked herself against me. Her free hand clutched at my shoulder as her orgasm built inside her. When she tipped over the edge it was with a scream, the plants around us vibrating with her cries. As she clenched around me, I let loose, snapping my hips upwards as I fucked into her roughly. It was with three pumps that I spilled inside her, coating her insides and feeling our combined juices leak against our thighs.
Around us, the air began to cool. The fires that flickered high on the flames guttering out. It left us in darkness with nothing but the sound of our own breath filling the room.
“That was…” she trailed off, peeking up from where she had been resting against my thigh. When I locked eyes with her, she ducked her head down again, trying to hide. The woman had gotten herself off in front of me and was someone still able to blush demurely.
Pulling her upwards, I pressed my lips firmly to her own, tasting myself and making sure to lick every last drop of my arousal from her tongue. When I pulled away, she was flushed and panting, chest heaving with the beginning tendrils of another aching arousal.
“We need to get you clean,” she whispered.
“I kind of like being dirty.”
She smacked me lightly on the hip but ducked her head towards me anyway, giving me another searing kiss. “Come on,” she murmured. “Let’s take a bath.” Rising from my lap, she stood before me, stretching in the moonlight. Her generous curves swayed this way and that, her arms stretching over her head as she was put on full display. My mouth went dry as she turned, walking to the on suite bathroom. As she paused at the door, she looked over her shoulder. “Coming?” she asked.
I groaned as I slipped off the bed and followed her inside. I didn’t think I would be sleeping much that night.
[[Chapter Eight|Chapter Eight - Hazel]]I followed her down to the bed, the two of us falling back on a mound of pillows and quilts. Beneath me, her legs spread apart, allowing me to settle between them. I could feel the heat of her body and the way it shifted against me. Her fingers came up to card through my hair, eyes dark in the light of the paper moon and the wisps hovering outside her window. I felt a nervous tremble cord around me as I stared down at her. She was so beautiful. Someone soft and sweet and I suddenly was unable to understand how I had gotten here. How I had even become so lucky.
“Are you okay?” she whispered to me, her hands dancing down the side of my cheek.
“Yeah,” I said back. “Just trying to drink you in.”
The smile that lit up her face wrapped around me in a warm embrace. Slowly, her hands began to move downwards, ghosting over the fabric of my shirt. When her nose wrinkled, and a laugh escaped her, I looked at her curiously.
“You’re a mess,” she whispered. I was still covered in the Deep. Salt and bits of sand clinging to me in a dry crunch “Come on.” Tapping my hip, she pushed me aside, going over to her vanity to get a basin of water. When she came back, she settled against my hip. “Take off your shirt.”
There was a dip in her voice I wasn’t used to. A sweet sort of huskiness that had my thighs clenching together at the sound of. Slowly, I pulled my tunic up and over my head, hissing as the night air hit my battered skin. Hazel frowned at the sight of me but said nothing more. Instead, she slowly started cleaning me up, running a wet and warm cloth across my body. When she got to the bandeau I kept wrapped around my chest, she looked at me for only a second before unwrapping it.
My breast were exposed to the cool air, my nipples pebbling into hard points. Dipping the rag in the water, she rang it out before running it over me again, swiping it across my chest in a slow drag. My lips parted as she rubbed against each hardened tip, sending a shiver across my skin.
“You’re so pretty,” she breathed. “Every inch of you.” Leaning down, she pressed her lips against the beads of water that rolled across my ribs, her tongue peeking out to lap them up. I sucked in a harsh breath at the contact, my fingers twisting in the sheets beneath me. When her lips moved upwards to close around the flush of my nipple, I arched beneath her. Her tongue flicked across me, laving at me sweetly while her other hand came up to fondle the aching heaviness of my breast. She cupped it within her tanned palm, feeling the weight of it. When she pulled back, she had the sweetest smile on her lips.
Surging forward, I pressed my mouth to hers, feeling my bare chest scrape against the front of her corset. With deft hands, I began to untie her, pulling the boned material from her before tugging at her white linen shirt. I moaned as I tossed it aside. She wore nothing beneath her shirt, leaving her breast heavy and free. Pert brown nipples darkened the tip of each one, eliciting a moan from the very sight of them.
Tipping my head forward, I cupped one within my hand, sucking the flesh within my mouth and feeling her gasp. Her hands came up to tangle in my hair, petting me softly as I laved at her chest. Heat began to flicker between my thighs and a fire that I had not expected was beginning to boil. Next to me, I could see the way she squirmed and as she pushed her own hand up and under her skirt, I groaned wantonly.
Pushing her down upon the bed I tugged her skirt from her. Her sex was wet and glistening, staring up at me. Unashamedly, Hazel moved her fingers back down, slipping them against her slick folds and panting as she stared up at me. Her eyes were darker now, a deep gold that I was not used to seeing. As she began to play with herself, I watched in awe. Slowly, she spread her legs, parting them to show me the swollen bud between she kept hidden between her thighs.
I gasped, feeling my mouth water as I longed to lean forward and taste her. But, as I began to tip forward, she stopped, shaking her head.
“I want to see you too,” she said softly.
Fumbling, I stripped from my own clothes, letting them fall to the side of the bed. She rewarded me by pushing two wet fingers into my mouth, rubbing her juices across my bottom lip. I groaned around the digits and crawled up her body, straddling her hips. When I felt my sex touch her own, my eyes fluttered closed, my entire world suddenly pinpointed on where we were locked together. I could feel her wet lips against my center, puffy and slick with her own arousal. She gasped as I dragged myself across her hardened clit. Opening my eyes, I stared at her. Her pupils were blown, her lip was sucked between her teeth, and the flush on her face was a deep rose. When I began to roll my hips against her, she arched beneath me, her moan vibrating across my skin.
Dipping my head downwards, I captured her lips, licking into the confines of her mouth as I ground against her. Our arousal mixed, making our thighs slick and I could feel Hazel panting beneath me. When she arched upwards, I stared at her in shock. A fine tremor coursed through her body as she let her release roll across her skin in waves.
“Oh,” she breathed, eyes fluttering closed. She didn’t stop though. If anything, it spurred her on. With one hand, she reached between us, flicking her thumb across me and rubbing in wide, firm circles. I let my forehead fall against her shoulder, my own need curling at my spine. When she flattened her palm and ground the heel against me, I felt a whimper escape me in a silent plea. The soft and sweet giggle she gave me in return nearly sent me over the edge.
“You’re so warm,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect that. Is this okay? Do you want me to continue or…”
I nodded.
With her free hand, she cupped my face, all the while stroking me between my thighs and sending a delicious heat licking up my spine. “I have toys,” she said. “I think tonight I want to do things just like this but maybe later we could…”
I felt myself shudder, my mouth falling open with a soft groan as I imagine the things she could do to me. The things I wanted to do to her.
“Just let me know if something is uncomfortable,” she whispered. “I think I can have another one so don’t count me out just yet, okay?”
I laughed a little at that. Her cheeks were a deep crimson that bled down to the top of her chest. “I don’t think I could ever count you out,” I told her.
Pulling her upwards, I twisted her around and positioned her in my lap. Her thick thighs wrapped tightly around me as we began to slowly grind together, our lips locked in a searing kiss while fingers were left free to explore. The room around us became heady and warm. The musky scent of arousal filling the air. From the corner of my eye I could see the waxy candles on her desk flicker before bursting into life, their flame sizzling within the room in a sharp pop of heat. Hazel sucked in a deep breath, her body bowed in my arms as she rocked against me. Her hair had fallen from her scarf, cascading down her back in coiled waves as her mouth was open in one continuous moan.
For a moment, I pulled away, staring down at her. Her thick tan folds and the soft hair that covered her were on display. The swollen bud of her clit shining with both our arousal, and the way she spread herself for me, had me nearly tipping over the edge. When she slipped her own finger inside herself, the digits disappearing up to her knuckles, I couldn’t take it any further.
Grabbing her by the hips, I positioned her to slide the hardened nub of my own sex against her, moving us together as my mouth came down around her nipple in a bruising suck. She let out a gasp of surprise as the light of the room began to flicker, the small kerosene lamps bursting into high flame. My head whipped around to look at them, but she grabbed me roughly by my cheeks, pushing me back down towards her chest. As she began bouncing on my lap, I slipped my own finger in alongside hers and the two of us began fucking her together.
“Oh, $name,” she breathed, her voice hitching up higher and higher. When she began crying out in full I felt the heat explode behind me, my thighs becoming drenched as she rocked herself on our fingers. Her free hand clutched at my shoulder as her orgasm built inside her. When she tipped over the edge it was with a scream, the plants around us vibrating with her cries. Before she had even finished she pulled off me, sliding down to bury her face between my thighs, her tongue swiping against me and her lips closing over my sex. I last barely a minute after before I followed her downwards into a pleasure filled moan, spilling against her
Around us, the air began to cool. The fires that flickered high on the flames guttering out. It left us in darkness with nothing but the sound of our own breath filling the room.
“That was…” she trailed off, peeking up from where she had been resting against my thigh. When I locked eyes with her, she ducked her head down again, trying to hide. The woman had gotten herself off in front of me and was someone still able to blush demurely.
Pulling her upwards, I pressed my lips firmly to her own, tasting myself and making sure to lick every last drop of my arousal from her tongue. When I pulled away, she was flushed and panting, chest heaving with the beginning tendrils of another aching arousal.
“We need to get you clean,” she whispered.
“I kind of like being dirty.”
She smacked me lightly on the hip but ducked her head towards me anyway, giving me another searing kiss. “Come on,” she murmured. “Let’s take a bath.” Rising from my lap, she stood before me, stretching in the moonlight. Her generous curves swayed this way and that, her arms stretching over her head as she was put on full display. My mouth went dry as she turned, walking to the on suite bathroom. As she paused at the door, she looked over her shoulder. “Coming?” she asked.
I groaned as I slipped off the bed and followed her inside. I didn’t think I would be sleeping much that night.
[[Chapter Eight|Chapter Eight - Hazel]]
“How about an option four,” I stated.
She looked at me, brows raising in intrigue. “Go on.”
I felt my stomach twist with what I was about to suggest, thinking of the man I had parted ways with not long before. The one who I was entering into something uncertain with. But then I looked at this woman before me. The confidence she exuded and the way she was a force that was unwavering. I couldn’t turn away from her.
“How about you join me,” I suggested.
The slow smile that curled across her lips was predatory, her body swaying as she slinked towards me. “Oh? And how would you like to see that happen?” Before I could answer, she ran her fingers up and down my arm. “Are you suggesting something more intimate perhaps? A way to unwind with pleasure.”
I swallowed, meeting her eye and refusing to turn away. “Yes.”
“The things I could do to your body,” she murmured. “But, what about Gabriel? Is this something you wish to enter into while still courting such a man?”
“Will it be a problem?”
She laughed a little. “It depends, really. Will you make it a problem? Or will you see yourself as your own agent. Someone in control of their lives and body. You explain something like that to Gabriel and I doubt he would have an issue. If you are doing this to hurt him, then he will.”
“I’m not doing this to hurt him,” I said with absolute certainty. For everything Gabriel was and everything he had been, I was not looking to hurt him.
“Good,” Belladonna purred. “Because if you were, I would gut you right here. Now, strip.”
I felt a shiver roll up my spine and lightning hit my gut. Unconsciously, I reached for the ties of my clothes, undoing them one by one. Belladonna began circling me as each strip of fabric slipped from my skin, gliding down arms and legs, leaving me bare to her gaze.
Her lips brushed against my ear. “Such a good listener,” she said. “Pity. I was hoping I’d have to get out the paddle.”
I startled as she walked in front of me, her soft hands brushing up her own body to slip the slinky black straps of her dress down each arm. The lace puddled at her feet, revealing an expanse of unblemished skin, not a strip of underclothing in sight. Her breasts were full and heavy and yet somehow remained pert. A small cross was inked across the side of her breast, a black and binding stream of ink that stood starkly out against her pale skin. Turning, she stepped down into the water, each toe pointed before it disappeared beneath the surface. The rounded curve of her hips lead up into the defined lines of her back, her red locks spilling over her shoulder to brush against the swell of her ass.
“Coming?” she asked, sinking into the water. I knew at that moment I would follow her anywhere.
[[Fade to black|Belladonna FTB]]
[[Full NSFW scene|Belladonna NSFW]]I didn’t know how long I sat there, lost in the pleasure of Belladonna’s arms. But when I came to, she was wrapped around me, the two of us laying on a soft lounge tucked in the corner of the room, fluffy robes wrapped around both our naked bodies.
“You performed so well for me,” Belladonna whispered, tucking the wet strands of hair from my eyes. “Absolutely beautiful. I am so proud of you, my heart. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of taking care of you this evening.”
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even speak. All I could do was lay against her, my body numb.
“Sleep,” she commanded. “The world will be waiting for you tomorrow but tonight you are mine.” I felt the claim slam down around me and burn into my skin. It curled against my bones and seared into the very core of who I was until I was arching upwards, my body trembling with another wave of release.
Above me, Belladonna smiled. “Well done, my dove."
<<if $ever == "true">>[[Go see Ever]]<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>
<<set $belladonnasex to "true">>[[I am female|BNSFW Female]]
[[I am male|BNSFW Male]]
[[I was born female but present male|BNSFW transmasc]]
[[I was born male but present female|BNSFW transfem]]Settling in the water, I couldn’t take my eyes off her, sneaking glances, feeling myself unsteady. Was I invited to look? Was I supposed to look away? Was I to be coy? Shy? Daring? Devious? My head began to spin. When I felt her cool hands on my arms, I blinked back to reality.
“Sit, little muse,” she said. “Let me take care of you.”
The backs of my calves hit the ledge of a heated stone, forcing me to sit and sink deeper beneath the strange liquid as Belladonna advanced towards me. The water pooled just below her navel, her fingers swirling through the murky depths while dripping from her in sparkling gems that burst apart as they hit the surface once more. I felt my thighs squeeze together at the sight of her, rubbing together as I struggled to keep my breaths even. As she leaned forward, I felt her breasts press against my own, the hardened points of her nipples dragging languidly across me as she reached over my shoulder to twist a few of the knobs embedded in the ground. Behind me, I could feel the water pulse, a deep whirring sound rippling through the room. Around us, the murky water began to churn as steaming hot lines of it jetted from small holes throughout the pool. As steam began to fill the room, my head felt light, my eyes dark and trained upon the graceful figure before me.
Sliding behind me, Belladonna began cupping the water in the palms of her hand and pouring it over my skin. I watched it run down the curve of my chest, leaving raised flesh in its wake. Cool trails of water trickled down my arms, causing me to shiver, and chasing each drop, was the sharpened points of Belladonna’s crimson nails as they began scratching up and down my arms.
Pressing flush against my back, she pulled me to rest between the v of her legs. “Your heart is racing,” she whispered. “I bet you taste sweet.” I felt her laugh pleasantly at my back as I unconsciously tilted my head to the side. “Not tonight,” she purred. “Tonight is about you. Not me. Now,” she whispered, “I want you to relax. Let the water encase you in its healing properties. Let the world and today's events, slip away.”
My chest was rising and falling rapidly. I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to do that with the way her hands were wandering. I nearly jumped as her nails raked down my thighs, encircling them as she pulled them apart. The water concealed me but I was spread and on full display and knew that my breath was coming in ragged pants.
“Clear your mind,” she told me gently. Her red hair swirled around us like blood. “Float away.” Her voice was hypnotic, rolling around me and coaxing me to sink into her commands. But I couldn’t get my mind or my heart to stop racing. I was in her arms, spread at her mercy, and yet she was barely touching me.
“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked innocently.
I sucked in a breath. “I–”
“Oh,” she tsked. “Here, you’re so tense. How about a massage?”
I nodded. Mainly because I didn’t know what else to do.
“Now, dear heart, I’m going to need you to do me a favor. You keep those legs wide open for me while I massage each and every muscle. I want you to be a good little pretty. Listen to what I say. Know that you are safe and cared for, alright?”
As she slid away, I took in a deep and calming breath. Somehow, I remained suspended, something supporting my back in Belladonna’s absence. I could hear her rummaging around the room and part of me wished to crane my neck towards her once more, wanting to see the way the water dripped from her skin. But I didn’t dare disobey.
When she came back around, she had a small bottle in her hand. The liquid within looked like fire and swirled like glittering oil. Her hands reached down, brushing against the inside of my thighs as a slow smile curled across her lips. “Very good,” she praised. My entire body was aching with the need for her touch, a tight coil forming in the pit of my belly. And all the while, Belladonna hummed, standing between my legs and pouring the oil onto her hands.
I groaned wantonly as she began kneading the tense muscles of my calves. Her fingers working into each aching knot and easing out the long lines of pain that had been throbbing beneath my skin. When she was done, she lifted my leg over her shoulder and pressed forward so she could begin on the next. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of her, her full breasts flushed with the warmth of the water. When she placed my other leg over her shoulder and began kneading my hips, I closed my eyes tightly.
“Oh, sweetling. You still have so much tension. Open your eyes for me. I want you to see what I’m doing. Watch the stress melt away.” When I opened my eyes, my lips parted in a soft moan. With one last step, she walked towards me, pressing against me beneath the water. She dug her thumbs into my lower back, releasing some of the tension there and arching me upwards. The water sluiced over me and I caught sight of the two of us. Damp red curls were pressed to me, the slick crease of my sex on full display.
“Oh, just look at you, opening right up for me. So pretty.” Her thumbs swirled around until they were pressed into the dip of each hip, running smooth circles and getting closer and closer to where I ached. I gasped in need as her fingers inched closer, my eyes going heavy lidded. “So responsive,” she whispered. “I would much rather see this than all those lines of tension you’ve been carrying. Do you know that most of our tension is held in our core?” I could only nod as her nails dug into my skin, sharp little flicks of pain piercing the soft and delicate skin between my legs. “Most people massage the neck or the shoulders when they are stressed but I find that the core of a person is what really needs that release. So much tightness and rigidity and pressure is built there and if it has nowhere to go it just sets us on edge. Like now, for example. I can tell you need a release. You have for some time. But no one has taken care of you. Would you like me to take care of you, my heart?”
My breath shot from my chest and my legs nearly clamped shut in an effort to squeeze my thighs together and gain some sort of relief. Belladonna held them firm, admonishing the reaction gently.
“Keep yourself open,” she told me firmly. “Don’t you dare take such a pretty sight away from me.”
With a deep breath, I nodded my head once, trying to relax. When I did, I felt myself wet and open. A heated shudder rolled through me as Belladonna stared down at my slick folds and licked her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed. “So much tension is just right there. We simply must do something about that.” Dropping my legs, she walked around me once again until I was in her arms. I didn’t dare shut my thighs as she cradled me close. “Relax,” she breathed. “Let go. Nothing would please me more than to see you fall into such comfort.”
Pulling me off the seat, she turned us in the water until I was practically in her lap. I could feel her against the small of my back as she scooted us closer to the edge of the pool. At first, I didn’t understand what she was doing, her arms holding me, linked beneath my legs. And then I felt it. A pulse of water rushed over my heated center, brushing against my clit in a rhythm that had me gasping. My head tipped back on her shoulder while the rest of my body arched in her arms.
“There you go,” she whispered in my ear. “So beautiful.” The water pulsed against me, suddenly turning on and off in a staccato rhythm before pushing against me full blast and despite knowing that Belladonna was doing nothing more than holding me open, helpless to the whims of her desires, I felt as if she were fucking me. Moving in and out of me. Turning me completely inside out and tearing me apart for her viewing pleasure. And I was happy to let her.
When my body began to shake in her arms I opened my mouth in a silent scream. What rolled through me was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I felt my nipples tighten to nearly painful points as she pushed me further against the stream of water, whispering filthy lines of praise in my ear. And when I was done, when I had shaken apart in her arms, she pushed me even further until the world around me exploded and I knew nothing but the pleasure that coursed through me and the feel of her lips as they brushed against my pulse.
[[Next|Belladonna FTB]]
Settling in the water, I couldn’t take my eyes off her, sneaking glances, feeling myself unsteady. Was I invited to look? Was I supposed to look away? Was I to be coy? Shy? Daring? Devious? My head began to spin. When I felt her cool hands on my arms, I blinked myself back to reality.
“Sit, little muse,” she said. “Let me take care of you.”
The backs of my calves hit the ledge of a heated stone, forcing me to sit and sink deeper beneath the strange liquid as Belladonna advanced towards me. The water pooled just below her navel, her fingers swirling through the murky depths while dripping from her in sparkling gems that burst apart as they hit the surface once more. As she leaned forward, I felt her breasts press against my chest, the hardened points of her nipples dragging lazily across me as she reached over my shoulder to twist a few of the knobs embedded in the ground. Behind me, I could feel the water pulse, a deep whirring sound rippling through the room. Around us, the murky water began to churn as steaming hot lines of it jetted from small holes throughout the pool. As steam began to fill the room, my head felt light, my eyes dark and trained upon the graceful figure before me.
Sliding behind me, Belladonna began cupping the water in the palms of her hand and pouring it over my skin. I watched it run down the planes of my chest, leaving raised flesh in its wake. Cool trails of water trickled down my arms, causing me to shiver. Chasing each drop, was the sharpened points of Belladonna’s crimson nails as they began scratching up and down my arms.
Pressing flush against my back, she pulled me to rest between the v of her legs. “Your heart is racing,” she whispered. “I bet you taste sweet.” I felt her laugh pleasantly at my back as I unconsciously tilted my head to the side. “Not tonight,” she purred. “Tonight is about you. Not me. Now,” she whispered, “I want you to relax. Let the water encase you in its healing properties. Let the world and today's events, slip away.”
My chest was rising and falling rapidly. I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to do that with the way her hands were wandering. I nearly jumped as her nails raked down my thighs, encircling them as she pulled them apart. The water concealed me but I was spread and on full display and knew that my breath was coming in ragged pants.
“Clear your mind,” she told me gently. Her red hair swirled around us like blood. “Float away.” Her voice was hypnotic, rolling around me and coaxing me to sink into her commands. But I couldn’t get my mind or my heart to stop racing. I was in her arms, spread at her mercy, and yet she was barely touching me.
“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked innocently.
I sucked in a breath. “I–”
“Oh,” she tsked. “Here, you’re so tense. How about a massage?”
I nodded. Mainly because I didn’t know what else to do.
“Now, dear heart, I’m going to need you to do me a favor. You keep those legs wide open for me while I massage each and every muscle. I want you to be a good little pretty. Listen to what I say. Know that you are safe and cared for, alright?”
As she slid away, I took in a deep and calming breath. Somehow, I remained suspended, something supporting my back in Belladonna’s absence. I could hear her rummaging around the room and part of me wished to crane my neck towards her once more, wanting to see the way the water dripped from her skin. But I didn’t dare disobey.
When she came back around, she had a small bottle in her hand. The liquid within looked like fire and swirled like glittering oil. Her hands reached down, brushing against the inside of my thighs as a slow smile curled across her lips. “Very good,” she praised. My entire body was aching with the need for her touch, my cock hard and dark, breaching the surface of the water. And all the while, Belladonna hummed, standing between my legs and pouring the oil onto her hands.
I groaned wantonly as she began kneading the tense muscles of my calves. Her fingers working into each aching knot and easing out the long lines of pain that had been throbbing beneath my skin. When she was done, she lifted my leg over her shoulder and pressed forward so she could begin on the next. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of her, her full breasts flushed with the warmth of the water. When she placed my other leg over her shoulder and began kneading my hips, I closed my eyes tightly.
“Oh, sweetling. You still have so much tension. Open your eyes for me. I want you to see what I’m doing. Watch the stress melt away.” When I opened my eyes, my lips parted in a soft moan. With one last step, she walked towards me, pressing against me beneath the water. She dug her thumbs into my lower back, releasing some of the tension there and arching me upwards. The water sluiced over me and I caught sight of the two of us. Damp red curls were pressed against me, the weeping length of my erection now on full display.
“Oh, just look at you, hard and needy for me. So pretty.” Her thumbs swirled around until they were pressed into the dip of each hip, running smooth circles and getting closer and closer to where I ached. I gasped in need as her fingers inched closer, my eyes going heavy lidded. “So responsive,” she whispered. “I would much rather see this than all those lines of tension you’ve been carrying. Do you know that most of our tension is held in our core?” I could only nod as her nails dug into my skin, sharp little flicks of pain piercing the soft and delicate skin between my legs. “Most people massage the neck or the shoulders when they are stressed but I find that the core of a person is what really needs that release. So much tightness and rigidity and pressure is built there and if it has nowhere to go it just sets us on edge. Like now, for example. I can tell you need a release. You have for some time. But no one has taken care of you. Would you like me to take care of you, my heart?”
My breath shot from my chest as my hips ached to roll against her stomach, seeking some sort of relief. Belladonna held my thighs firm, admonishing the reaction gently.
“Keep yourself open,” she told me firmly. “Don’t you dare take such a pretty sight away from me.”
With a deep breath, I nodded my head once, trying to relax. A heated shudder rolled through me as Belladonna stared down at my cock and licked her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed. “So much tension is just right there. We simply must do something about that.” Dropping my legs, she walked around me once again until I was in her arms. I didn’t dare shut my thighs as she cradled me close. “Relax,” she breathed. “Let go. Nothing would please me more than to see you fall into such comfort.”
Pulling me off the seat, she turned us in the water until I was practically in her lap. I could feel her against the small of my back as she scooted us closer to the edge of the pool. At first, I didn’t understand what she was doing, her arms holding me, linked beneath my legs. And then I felt it. A pulse of water rushed over my heated center, brushing against me in a rhythm that had me gasping. My head tipped back on her shoulder while the rest of my body arched in her arms.
“There you go,” she whispered in my ear. “So beautiful.” The water pulsed against me, suddenly turning on and off in a staccato rhythm before pushing against me full blast and despite knowing that Belladonna was doing nothing more than holding me open, helpless to the ministrations, I felt as if she were fucking me. Moving up and down upon my length and clenching around me tight. Tearing me apart for her viewing pleasure. And I was happy to let her.
When my body began to shake in her arms I opened my mouth in a silent scream. What rolled through me was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I felt my nipples tighten to near painful points as she pushed me further against the stream of water, whispering filthy lines of praise in my ear. And when I was done, when I had shaken apart in her arms, she pushed me even further until the world around me exploded and I knew nothing but the pleasure that coursed through me and the feel of her lips as they brushed against my pulse.
[[Next|Belladonna FTB]]
Settling in the water, I couldn’t take my eyes off her, sneaking glances, feeling myself unsteady. Was I invited to look? Was I supposed to look away? Was I to be coy? Shy? Daring? Devious? My head began to spin. When I felt her cool hands on my arms, I blinked at her.
“Sit, little muse,” she said. “Let me take care of you.”
The backs of my calves hit the ledge of a heated stone, forcing me to sit and sink deeper beneath the strange liquid as Belladonna advanced towards me. The water pooled just below her navel, her fingers swirling through the murky depths while dripping from her in sparkling gems that burst apart as they hit the surface once more. I felt my thighs squeeze together at the sight of her, rubbing together as I struggled to keep my breaths even. As she leaned forward, I felt her breasts press against my own, the hardened points of her nipples dragging languidly across me as she reached over my shoulder to twist a few of the knobs embedded in the ground. Behind me, I could feel the water pulse, a deep whirring sound rippling through the room. Around us, the murky water began to churn as steaming hot lines of it jetted from small holes throughout the pool. As steam began to fill the room, my head felt light, my eyes dark and trained upon the graceful figure before me.
Sliding behind me, Belladonna began cupping the water in the palms of her hand and pouring it over my skin. I watched it run down the curve of my chest, leaving raised flesh in its wake. Cool trails of water trickled down my arms, causing me to shiver, and chasing each drop, was the sharpened points of Belladonna’s crimson nails as they began scratching up and down my arms.
Pressing flush against my back, she pulled me to rest between the v of her legs. “Your heart is racing,” she whispered. “I bet you taste sweet.” I felt her laugh pleasantly at my back as I unconsciously tilted my head to the side. “Not tonight,” she purred. “Tonight is about you. Not me. Now,” she whispered, “I want you to relax. Let the water encase you in its healing properties. Let the world and today's events, slip away.”
My chest was rising and falling rapidly. I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to do that with the way her hands were wandering. I nearly jumped as her nails raked down my thighs, encircling them as she pulled them apart. The water concealed me but I was spread and on full display and knew that my breath was coming in ragged pants.
“Clear your mind,” she told me gently. Her red hair swirled around us like blood. “Float away.” Her voice was hypnotic, rolling around me and coaxing me to sink into her commands. But I couldn’t get my mind or my heart to stop racing. I was in her arms, spread at her mercy, and yet she was barely touching me.
“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked innocently.
I sucked in a breath. “I–”
“Oh,” she tsked. “Here, you’re so tense. How about a massage?”
I nodded. Mainly because I didn’t know what else to do.
“Now, dear heart, I’m going to need you to do me a favor. You keep those legs wide open for me while I massage each and every muscle. I want you to be a good little pretty. Listen to what I say. Know that you are safe and cared for, alright?”
As she slid away, I took in a deep and calming breath. Somehow, I remained suspended, something supporting my back in Belladonna’s absence. I could hear her rummaging around the room and part of me wished to crane my neck towards her once more, wanting to see the way the water dripped from her skin. But I didn’t dare disobey her.
When she came back around, she had a small bottle in her hand. The liquid within looked like fire and swirled like glittering oil. Her hands reached down, brushing against the inside of my thighs as a slow smile curled across her lips. “Very good,” she praised. My entire body was aching with the need for her touch, a tight coil forming in the pit of my belly. And all the while, Belladonna hummed, standing between my legs and pouring the oil onto her hands.
I groaned wantonly as she began kneading the tense muscles of my calves. Her fingers working into each aching knot and easing out the long lines of pain that had been throbbing beneath my skin. When she was done, she lifted my leg over her shoulder and pressed forward so she could begin on the next. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of her, her full breasts flushed with the warmth of the water. When she placed my other leg over her shoulder and began kneading my hips, I closed my eyes tightly.
“Oh, sweetling. You still have so much tension. Open your eyes for me. I want you to see what I’m doing. Watch the stress melt away.” When I opened my eyes, my lips parted in a soft moan. With one last step, she walked towards me, pressing against me beneath the water. She dug her thumbs into my lower back, releasing some of the tension there and arching me upwards. The water sluiced over me and I caught sight of the two of us. Damp red curls were pressed to me, the slick crease of my sex on full display.
“Oh, just look at you, opening right up for me, all hard and wet. So pretty.” Her thumbs swirled around until they were pressed into the dip of each hip, running smooth circles and getting closer and closer to where I ached. I gasped in need as her fingers inched closer, my eyes going heavy lidded. “So responsive,” she whispered. “I would much rather see this than all those lines of tension you’ve been carrying. Do you know that most of our tension is held in our core?” I could only nod as her nails dug into my skin, sharp little flicks of pain piercing the soft and delicate skin between my legs. “Most people massage the neck or the shoulders when they are stressed but I find that the core of a person is what really needs that release. So much tightness and rigidity and pressure is built there and if it has nowhere to go it just sets us on edge. Like now, for example. I can tell you need a release. You have for some time. But no one has taken care of you. Would you like me to take care of you, my heart?”
My breath shot from my chest and my legs nearly clamped shut in an effort to squeeze my thighs together and gain some sort of relief. Belladonna held them firm, admonishing the reaction gently.
“Keep yourself open,” she told me firmly. “Don’t you dare take such a pretty sight away from me.”
With a deep breath, I nodded my head once, trying to relax. When I did, I felt myself wet and open. A heated shudder rolled through me as Belladonna stared down at my slick folds and licked her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed. “So much tension is just right there. We simply must do something about that.” Dropping my legs, she walked around me once again until I was in her arms. I didn’t dare shut my thighs as she cradled me close. “Relax,” she breathed. “Let go. Nothing would please me more in this moment than to see you fall into such comfort.”
Pulling me off the seat, she turned us in the water until I was practically in her lap. I could feel her against the small of my back as she scooted us closer to the edge of the pool. At first, I didn’t understand what she was doing, her arms holding me, linked beneath my legs. And then I felt it. A pulse of water rushed over my heated center, brushing against my sex in a rhythm that had me gasping. My head tipped back on her shoulder while the rest of my body arched in her arms.
“There you go,” she whispered in my ear. “So beautiful.” The water pulsed against me, suddenly turning on and off in a staccato rhythm before pushing against me full blast and despite knowing that Belladonna was doing nothing more than holding me open, helpless to the whims of her desires, I felt as if she were fucking me. Moving in and out of me. Turning me completely inside out and tearing me apart for her viewing pleasure. And I was happy to let her.
When my body began to shake in her arms I opened my mouth in a silent scream. What rolled through me was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I felt my nipples tighten to nearly painful points as she pushed me further against the stream of water, whispering filthy lines of praise in my ear. And when I was done, when I had shaken apart in her arms, she pushed me even further until the world around me exploded and I knew nothing but the pleasure that coursed through me and the feel of her lips as they brushed against my pulse.
[[Next|Belladonna FTB]]Settling in the water, I couldn’t take my eyes off her, sneaking glances, feeling myself unsteady. Was I invited to look? Was I supposed to look away? Was I to be coy? Shy? Daring? Devious? My head began to spin. When I felt her cool hands on my arms, I blinked at her.
“Sit, little muse,” she said. “Let me take care of you.”
The backs of my calves hit the ledge of a heated stone, forcing me to sit and sink deeper beneath the strange liquid as Belladonna advanced towards me. The water pooled just below her navel, her fingers swirling through the murky depths while dripping from her in sparkling gems that burst apart as they hit the surface once more. As she leaned forward, I felt her breasts press against my chest, the hardened points of her nipples dragging lazily across me as she reached over my shoulder to twist a few of the knobs embedded in the ground. Behind me, I could feel the water pulse, a deep whirring sound rippling through the room. Around us, the murky water began to churn as steaming hot lines of it jetted from small holes throughout the pool. As steam began to fill the room, my head felt light, my eyes dark and trained upon the graceful figure before me.
Sliding behind me, Belladonna began cupping the water in the palms of her hand and pouring it over my skin. I watched it run down the planes of my chest, leaving raised flesh in its wake. Cool trails of water trickled down my arms, causing me to shiver, and chasing each drop, was the sharpened points of Belladonna’s crimson nails as they began scratching up and down my arms.
Pressing flush against my back, she pulled me to rest between the v of her legs. “Your heart is racing,” she whispered. “I bet you taste sweet.” I felt her laugh pleasantly at my back as I unconsciously tilted my head to the side. “Not tonight,” she purred. “Tonight is about you. Not me. Now,” she whispered, “I want you to relax. Let the water encase you in its healing properties. Let the world and today's events, slip away.”
My chest was rising and falling rapidly. I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to do that with the way her hands were wandering. I nearly jumped as her nails raked down my thighs, encircling them as she pulled them apart. The water concealed me but I was spread and on full display and knew that my breath was coming in ragged pants.
“Clear your mind,” she told me gently. Her red hair swirled around us like blood. “Float away.” Her voice was hypnotic, rolling around me and coaxing me to sink into her commands. But I couldn’t get my mind or my heart to stop racing. I was in her arms, spread at her mercy, and yet she was barely touching me.
“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked innocently.
I sucked in a breath. “I–”
“Oh,” she tsked. “Here, you’re so tense. How about a massage?”
I nodded. Mainly because I didn’t know what else to do.
“Now, dear heart, I’m going to need you to do me a favor. You keep those legs wide open for me while I massage each and every muscle. I want you to be a good little pretty. Listen to what I say. Know that you are safe and cared for, alright?”
As she slid away, I took in a deep and calming breath. Somehow, I remained suspended, something supporting my back in Belladonna’s absence. I could hear her rummaging around the room and part of me wished to crane my neck towards her once more, wanting to see the way the water dripped from her skin. But I didn’t dare disobey.
When she came back around, she had a small bottle in her hand. The liquid within looked like fire and swirled like glittering oil. Her hands reached down, brushing against the inside of my thighs as a slow smile curled across her lips. “Very good,” she praised. My entire body was aching with the need for her touch, my sex hard, breaching the surface of the water. And all the while, Belladonna hummed, standing between my legs and pouring the oil onto her hands.
I groaned wantonly as she began kneading the tense muscles of my calves. Her fingers working into each aching knot and easing out the long lines of pain that had been throbbing beneath my skin. When she was done, she lifted my leg over her shoulder and pressed forward so she could begin on the next. My breath hitched in my throat at the sight of her, her full breasts flushed with the warmth of the water. When she placed my other leg over her shoulder and began kneading my hips, I closed my eyes tightly.
“Oh, sweetling. You still have so much tension. Open your eyes for me. I want you to see what I’m doing. Watch the stress melt away.” When I opened my eyes, my lips parted in a soft moan. With one last step, she walked towards me, pressing against me beneath the water. She dug her thumbs into my lower back, releasing some of the tension there and arching me upwards. The water sluiced over me and I caught sight of the two of us. Damp red curls were pressed against me, my body now on full display.
“Oh, just look at you, nice and needy for me. So pretty.” Her thumbs swirled around until they were pressed into the dip of each hip, running smooth circles and getting closer and closer to where I ached. I gasped in need as her fingers inched closer, my eyes going heavy lidded. “So responsive,” she whispered. “I would much rather see this than all those lines of tension you’ve been carrying. Do you know that most of our tension is held in our core?” I could only nod as her nails dug into my skin, sharp little flicks of pain piercing the soft and delicate skin between my legs. “Most people massage the neck or the shoulders when they are stressed but I find that the core of a person is what really needs that release. So much tightness and rigidity and pressure is built there and if it has nowhere to go it just sets us on edge. Like now, for example. I can tell you need a release. You have for some time. But no one has taken care of you. Would you like me to take care of you, my heart?”
My breath shot from my chest as my hips ached to roll against her stomach, seeking some sort of relief. Belladonna held my thighs firm, admonishing the reaction gently.
“Keep yourself open,” she told me firmly. “Don’t you dare take such a pretty sight away from me.”
With a deep breath, I nodded my head once, trying to relax. A heated shudder rolled through me as Belladonna stared down at my sex and licked her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed. “So much tension is just right there. We simply must do something about that.” Dropping my legs, she walked around me once again until I was in her arms. I didn’t dare shut my thighs as she cradled me close. “Relax,” she breathed. “Let go. Nothing would please me more than to see you fall into such comfort.”
Pulling me off the seat, she turned us in the water until I was practically in her lap. I could feel her against the small of my back as she scooted us closer to the edge of the pool. At first, I didn’t understand what she was doing, her arms holding me, linked beneath my legs. And then I felt it. A pulse of water rushed over my heated center, brushing against me in a rhythm that had me gasping. My head tipped back on her shoulder while the rest of my body arched in her arms.
“There you go,” she whispered in my ear. “So beautiful.” The water pulsed against me, suddenly turning on and off in a staccato rhythm before pushing against me full blast and despite knowing that Belladonna was doing nothing more than holding me open, helpless to the ministrations, I felt as if she were fucking me. Moving up and down upon my length and clenching around me tight, and tearing me apart for her viewing pleasure. And I was happy to let her.
When my body began to shake in her arms I opened my mouth in a silent scream. What rolled through me was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I felt my nipples tighten to near painful points as she pushed me further against the stream of water, whispering filthy lines of praise in my ear. And when I was done, when I had shaken apart in her arms, she pushed me even further until the world around me exploded and I knew nothing but the pleasure that coursed through me and the feel of her lips as they brushed against my pulse.
[[Next|Belladonna FTB]][[I am female|GNSFW Female]]
[[I am male|GNSFW Male]]
[[I was born female but present male|GNSFW transmasc]]
[[I was born male but present female|GNSFW transfem]]“Gabriel,” I began, knowing what he was suggesting. “I’m not exactly interested in sex. Is that going to be a problem?”
He stared at me, puzzling out what I had just said. I could see it pass over his eyes, trying to piece together why this conversation was important and what the right way to respond would be. He opened and closed his mouth several times before settling on nodding curtly at me.
“It will not pose a problem, no.”
I raised a brow at him. “So you are okay with not having sex in a relationship?”
“Technically, celestials are celibate.”
“So you’ve never….?”
“No. I have. But what I am saying is it is not a carnal desire we undergo. I understand for some that it is something they wish to have on a regular basis but I assure you, $name, it is not something I require. The only time I ever think of it is if my partner has those desires and wishes for me to perform. Otherwise, it is merely an activity that I do not really partake in.”
I stared at him, not having known that about celestials. It was a sense of relief however, knowing this about him. Knowing that I didn’t have to worry in the future.
“So, you follow your partner's lead?”
He nodded. “There has only been twice in my life I have desired such a thing.”
“Will you let me know if it becomes something you desire?” If anything was going to work, honestly would be the key.
“I will let you know. But $name, I promise you, you are not depriving me of something. I enjoy your company for you. Not for your body.”
Taking his hand, I maneuvered out from under him, leading him towards the bedroom. It was devoid of anything personal, just like the rest of his place. But the bed was large and covered in the softest satin sheets I had ever seen. Kicking off my shoes, I crawled between the blankets, watching as he dressed down to his shirt and undergarments. When he slipped in behind me, he pulled me close to him, his arm a heavy weight across my belly.
“You are an enigma,” he told me after a moment.
Craning my neck back, I looked at him. “How so?”
Softly, he ran his fingers up under my shirt, callused fingers resting low on my belly. “Because I do not deserve the love you show me every day and yet you still do it. You ask me to be a better man. No one else has asked that of me. Not for a long time. //You// make me want to be better, $name.”
I clasped my hand over his. “You deserve love, Gabriel,” I told him softly. “You’ve just lost your way a bit with what is right and what is wrong.”
He hummed behind me, a slow rumble that I knew I could fall asleep too. “I would like to make you breakfast in the morning,” he whispered.
I smiled against the pillow. “If it gets you to eat, then I would love that.”
Behind me, I felt him sink boneless against my back. Moments later, the room was filled with the gentle sounds of his snoring. His breath puffed against my neck as exhaustion overtook him. Closing my eyes, I smiled. I knew that whatever was to come, I would not change this night for the world.
[[Two weeks later|Chapter Twelve 1]]I could feel the hard line of him against my thigh. As Gabriel loomed over me, eyes tinted silver, I could see the tension within his arms. The way he was holding himself, waiting for my command. Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the strands of it fall forward and out of the hold he put them in every morning. Locking eyes with him, I rolled my hips in way of answer, feeling the way he trembled at the sensation. I surged upwards, taking his lips against mine and feeling the way he opened to me. Grabbing me by the small of the back, he pulled me upwards, situating me until I was in his lap. I shoved at his shirt, wanting to feel the heat of his skin against my own. Meanwhile, he pushed and pulled at my top, discarding it along with his own, his fingers dancing up and down my body.
Dark calloused fingers trailed down my chest and belly, stopping at the hem of my pants. I watched as Gabriel’s eyes focused on the gathered fabric, his tongue coming out to lick at his bottom lip. Slowly, he reached forward, cupping me. I could feel myself pulse in his grip and I rolled my hips against him. Looking up, I saw the eagerness in his eyes, feeling the way his thumb teased the head of my cock through the fabric between us.
“Go ahead,” I told him softly, curious if he was waiting for a command.
Not waiting, he slipped his hand inside, running his fingers along my center. I could see the way his chest hitched with pleasure, his fingers crooking against me. Slowly he began working me, bringing his hand out momentarily to lick his fingers before diving back in. I felt his lips against the side of my neck, sucking bruises against me as he trailed his tongue down across my chest. I gasped as his teeth enclosed around one pert nipple, tongue lapping at it as if to soothe the hurt. When I opened my eyes, I could see the silver glow of his own as he stared down at his own hand and how I fit perfectly against him.
I could feel the desire building within me. Gabriel was a man that threw himself wholeheartedly into what he was doing and this was apparently no different.
“I have a small confession,” he said. I looked at him, panting harshly. “I have not lain with a man before.” He didn’t look fearful and this was obviously something he knew was coming, but I realized then, he didn’t know how to proceed.
Reaching out, I cupped his cheek, the line of his jaw tense against my hand. “Do you want to stop?”
“Absolutely not,” he said with a huffed laugh. “If anything, I am eager to learn. I have come prepared for this day.” Reaching around, he pulled a small box from beneath the sofa. When he opened it, my eyes shot up through my hairline, my lips parted. “It has magical properties. You would be able to feel the sensation as if it were your own.” I could see the hard outline of Gabriel’s cock through his pants. It was a thick line against his thigh and left me salivating with the need to see it. All the while, next to us, was a thick strapon and a bottle of lube. The idea of seeing Gabriel split at the end of it was one that I suddenly couldn’t get out of my head.
As Gabriel continued to nip and suck at my neck, his free hand squeezing my ass, I felt myself gasping, tumbling into the sensations of his lips on mine. When he showed no signs of stopping, I tapped him on the shoulder, having to push his head away from mine. Eagerly, he dove towards my lips, sucking my bottom lip within his mouth, his tongue coming out to lick the seam of my lips.
“Gabriel,” I panted, pushing him back. His eyes were bright silver, casting a soft glow in the room. With a pointed look, I reached between us, slowly undoing the buckle of his belt. It echoed within the room, the sound of it clattering as it slowly came undone. I popped open the line of buttons on his pants and scooted back in his lap as inch by inch I took down his zipper. His cloth covered erection strained against its confines and as I slipped my hand inside, Gabriel’s head tipped back with an anxious groan.
He was hot against the palm of my hand, thick and veiny and something I desperately wanted more of. Slowly, I pulled him out, watching as his erection rested against the muscled wall of his stomach. The tip was already dark with need and glistening with the desire for release. Slowly, I began pumping him up and down, his hips jerking beneath me and his hands coming around to knead my ass slowly. He scooted back so his head could rest against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed as he enjoyed what I was giving him. Swiping my thumb across his slit, he cried out, the sound like music as he panted and twisted beneath me.
“I want more,” he whispered.
“What do you want, Gabriel?” I wanted to hear him say it, suddenly wondering if something filthy could fall from his lips.
“You,” he begged.
“Tell me though. Tell me what it is you want,” I encouraged.
He squirmed beneath me, his cock pulsing in my hand. “I want to taste you,” he whispered. “I want to feel you against my tongue.” I felt a rush of warmth as I began grinding myself down on his thigh. Unconsciously, his hands went to my hips, his leg rising a fraction to encourage the movement. I could feel myself drag across the rough material of his trousers as I fucked myself against the thick muscle of his leg. My grip on his cock tightened.
“I want whatever you wish to give me,” he continued. “I want you to use my body for your pleasure. Please, I–” There was something there then. A struggle within him that I could see. Tugging on him, I leaned forward, capturing his lips in a soft and sweet kiss.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
“I want to bring you pleasure,” he said. “But I want you to deny me my own.”
I felt my belly tighten at his words. His grip on me was intense, and his eyes were bright and shinning. Swallowing thickly, I nodded my head, standing from his lap and undressing the rest of the way. Gabriel watched me like a man starved, each inch of my skin revealed something he was desperate to get his hands on. When I stood before him, naked, my chest rising with the erratic beat of my heart, I held out my hand to him, giving him the silent permission to continue.
Gabriel sunk to his knees in front of me, his fingers gripping my thighs as he licked at my weeping sex. I laced my fingers in his hair, looking down at him. Through the thick of his lashes he stared back up at me, silver yes bright and filled with desire. I gasped as he buried himself closer, his nose nudging against me and my own hand clenching convulsively in his hair. I could feel my thighs trembling with the effort to keep myself standing, my hips rolling against his face as he silently begged me to just fuck him.
I pulled him off of me with a gasp as my orgasm began to coil at the base of my spine. Gabriel was panting, his lips puffy and shiny with spit. Slowly, he kicked his pants off the rest of the way, crawling towards the glass table in front of his leather clad sofa. He rested his arms upon it, looking back over his shoulder.
“I would like you to fuck me now.”
I gave out a huff of laughter at how incredibly insane it was to hear him even say that and yet somehow, made me even harder. “I have to prep you,” I told him. “I can’t just–” My words trailed off into a groan as he slid his own fingers inside himself without warning, something silver and high pitched chiming through the room. I watched as his fingers slid in and out of himself, a grunt falling from his lips. I reached for the toy that he brought out, strapping it on me and feeling the sensation of flesh mold against me. While I had nothing to compare it to, suddenly, it felt as if it were my own. With a curious hand, I reached down to grip the appendage, feeling pleasure course through me. My mouth dropped open and I could only pray to the Knowing or whoever was listening, that this was not the only time I would be using this device.
Coming forward, I draped myself over Gabriel’s back, the scent of magic in the air. He was murmuring something in a language I didn’t understand, and as he pulled his fingers out, he reached around for me, lining me up against his puckered entrance.
“Please,” he whimpered, just before I thrust in. I heard the whine punch from his lungs followed by a heady groan. He was unbelievably tight and I rested my forehead against his sweaty back, feeling my own pleasure skitter up and down my spine. Rolling my hips against him, I slowly pulled out, thrusting back in and feeling the delicious drag of friction. It was not going to last long. Gabriel was panting beneath me, gripping the base of his cock to keep from coming, and my own erection was pushing beautifully inside him, splitting him in two. I could stare at where we were pressed together all day, listening to the sounds erupting from him, filling the room.
Pushing him forward, I felt myself slip deeper. His eyes glowed silver as he looked at me over his shoulder, a desperation there that said he was close. Picking up my speed, I fucked him in earnest then, feeling each inch of his muscled walls. It sent a burning tip of white hot euphoria cascading up my spine and I knew I was not ready for just how could he would feel, clenching around me. Within moments, I was shouting my own release, my fingers leaving bruises into his hips as I held him close to me.
When I pulled out, his cock was still hard. Gabriel stared at me like a wild animal as he turned, gathering me to him while we remained on the floor. I could feel the pound of his heart and the way he buried his face in my neck.
“Thank you,” he whispered. I nearly huffed out a laugh. He was still rock hard, and his cock looked angry with the lack of release. But he was running his lips across me as if I had just given him the most precious gift. “Thank you, thank you thank you….”
I held onto him just as tight then, refusing to let him go until his cock went soft against my thigh.
[[Next|After Sex]]I could feel the hard line of him against my hip. As he loomed over me, eyes tinted silver, I could see the tension within his arms. The way he was holding himself, waiting for my command. Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the strands of it fall forward out of the hold he put them in every morning. Locking eyes with him, I rolled my hips in way of answer, feeling the way he trembled at the sensation. I surged upwards, taking his lips against mine and feeling the way he opened to me. Grabbing me by the small of the back, he pulled me upwards, situating me until I was in his lap. I shoved at his shirt, wanting to feel the heat of his skin against my own. Meanwhile, he pushed and pulled at my top, discarding it along with his own, both hands coming up to cup my breasts.
Looking down, I watched as his thumbs rolled across me, eyes bright with what he saw. I felt him arch up, his cloth covered cock seeking out the wet warmth between my legs. He was enraptured. It was the only word I could think of as he stared at me longingly. As he kneaded my breasts, I could see the way his lips parted, eyes suddenly eager for whatever I was going to allow of him.
“Go ahead,” I told him softly, curious if he was waiting for a command.
With a hand at the small of my back, he bent me backwards, my breast on display for him. Slowly, almost reverently, he leaned forward, flicking his tongue across the hardened point of my nipple, groaning as he dove forward and unabashedly began sucking bruises against my chest, his tongue sneaking out to lave the hurt. My back arched, hand slipping within his hair to encourage him further. He grunted as my own hips came down on him hard, the hand at my back digging into my bare skin.
I could feel the desire building within me. Gabriel was a man that threw himself wholeheartedly into what he was doing and this was apparently no different. As he nipped and sucked, his hand coming up to squeeze each breast, I felt myself gasping, tumbling into the sensations of his lips on mine. When he showed no signs of stopping, I tapped him on the shoulder, having to push his head away from mine. Eagerly, he dove towards my lips, sucking my bottom lip within his mouth, his tongue coming out to lick the seam of my lips.
“Gabriel,” I panted, pushing him back. His eyes were bright silver, casting a soft glow in the room. I could feel the length of his erection and the dampness between my thighs. With a pointed look, I reached between us, slowly undoing the buckle of his belt. It echoed within the room, the sound of it clattering as it slowly came undone. I popped open the line of buttons and scooted back in his lap as inch by inch I took down his zipper. His cloth covered erection strained against its confines and as I slipped my hand inside, Gabriel’s head tipped back with an anxious groan.
He was hot against the palm of my hand, thick and veiny and something I desperately wanted more of. Slowly, I pulled him out, watching as his erection rested against the muscled wall of his stomach. The tip was already dark with need and glistening with the desire for release. Slowly, I began pumping him up and down, his hips jerking beneath me and his hands coming around to knead my ass slowly. He scooted back so his head could rest against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed as he enjoyed what I was giving him. Swiping my thumb across his slit, he cried out, the sound like music as he panted and twisted beneath me.
“I want more,” he whispered.
“What do you want, Gabriel?” I wanted to hear him say it, suddenly wondering if something filthy could fall from his lips.
“You,” he begged.
“Tell me though. Tell me what it is you want,” I encouraged.
He squirmed beneath me, his cock pulsing in my hand. “I want to taste you,” he whispered. “I want to run my tongue across you and bury my face between your legs.” I felt a rush of warmth beneath me as I began grinding myself down on his thigh. Unconsciously, his hands went to my hips, his leg rising a fraction to encourage the movement. I could feel my swollen center as it was dragged across the thick muscle of his leg. My grip on his cock tightened.
“I want whatever you wish to give me,” he continued. “I want you to use my body for your pleasure. Please, I–” There was something there then. A struggle within him that I could see. Tugging on him, I leaned forward, capturing his lips in a soft and sweet kiss.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
“I want to bring you pleasure,” he said. “But I want you to deny me my own.”
I felt my belly tighten at his words. His grip on me was intense, and his eyes were bright and shinning. Swallowing thickly, I nodded, standing from my position on his lap and undressing the rest of the way. Gabriel watched me like a man starved, each inch of my skin revealed something he was desperate to get his hands on. When I stood before him, naked, my chest rising with the erratic beat of my heart, I held out my hand to him, giving him silent permission to continue.
Gabriel pulled me to him then, laying flat on his back on the sofa. With deft hands he maneuvered me until I was hovering above him. The slide of his tongue against me had me gasping as I scrambled to hold onto the back of the sofa. His grip on me was tight as he pulled me down against his mouth, his tongue flicking back and forth over my center until I was squirming above him and I was almost certain he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t stop though, his lips moved against me as he hardened his tongue to a near point, dragging it up and down. I could feel my thighs trembling with the effort to keep myself hovering above him but as he yanked my weight down on top of him completely, I felt myself start to let go. I rocked my hips against his lips, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure he made as he continued to lick and suck. When I felt myself begin to coil in release, I tapped his shoulder. Gabriel let out a lengthy groan, his hands fumbled for something I couldn’t see. When I managed to blink down at him, I saw him slick up his own erection, tossing the bottle aside as he pushed me onto my back.
Holding his cock at the base, he teased it up and down my opening. “May I?” he asked.
My body was trembling as I nodded my head in consent. Gently, he eased himself past the sharp ring of muscles below my sex, opening me slowly. He licked his lips as he slowly began to stretch me, taking his time to ease into my body while holding my legs apart.
Arching, I panted, gripping onto the arm of the couch behind me and trying to push down on his cock. “I want you inside me, Gabriel,” I told him desperately.
He paused, the thick length of him partially inserted. “I will do whatever you want,” he told me and then pushed slowly inside. I gasped as my body adjusted to him, my mouth open in a prolonged moan. He didn’t move, instead pressing soft kisses up and down my neck and chest, waiting for me. When I rolled my hips, giving him permission, he began to move as well. The fluid motion of his hips had me groaning as he pushed into me, pulling himself all the way out before thrusting forward again. Gabriel was loud during sex, grunting and panting, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought his own need. I saw him several times squeeze the base of himself as he pushed and pulled at my hips. But he never stopped. He kept the rhythm, his lips grazing across my body as he began murmuring something in a language I didn’t understand, straight into my skin.
Bending my knees, I felt him slip deeper inside. It wasn’t going to be long now. I wanted to feel the pulse of him, that thick cock playing me until I was left a quivering mess. His eyes glowed silver as I looked at him and he nodded, hair falling in front of his face. Ducking his head, he began fucking me with earnest, the slow roll of his hips picking up speed as he reached between our bodies. I could feel it then. The wind up at the base of my spine. I arched my back as he leaned down, catching one hardened nipple between his teeth. When I felt myself let go, it was with a scream as Gabriel continued to fuck me through it, not letting up his pace until I felt my muscles clench around him once again and I was clinging to him for dear life.
When he pulled out, his cock was hard and shiny, the tip covered in my release. He stared at me like a wild animal as he gathered me to him. I could feel the pound of his heart and the way he buried his face in my neck.
“Thank you,” he whispered. I nearly huffed out a laugh. He was still rock hard, and his cock looked angry with the lack of release. But he was running his lips across me as if I had just given him the most precious gift. “Thank you, thank you thank you….”
I held onto him just as tight, refusing to let him go until his cock went soft against my thigh.
[[Next|After Sex]]I could feel the hard line of him against my thigh. As Gabriel loomed over me, eyes tinted silver, I could see the tension within his arms. The way he was holding himself, waiting for my command. Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the strands of it fall forward and out of the hold he put it in every morning. Locking eyes with him, I rolled my hips in way of answer, feeling the way he trembled at the sensation. I surged upwards, taking his lips against mine and feeling the way he opened to me. Grabbing me by the small of the back, he pulled me upwards, situating me until I was in his lap. I shoved at his shirt, wanting to feel the heat of his skin against my own. Meanwhile, he pushed and pulled at my top, discarding it along with his own, his fingers dancing up and down my body.
Dark calloused fingers trailed down my chest and belly, stopping at the hem of my pants. I watched as Gabriel’s eyes focused in on the bulge there, his tongue coming out to lick at his bottom lip. Slowly, he reached forward, cupping me. I could feel the flesh twitch in his grip and I rolled my hips against him. Looking up, I saw the eagerness in his eyes, feeling the way his thumb teased the head of my cock through the fabric between us.
“Go ahead,” I told him softly, curious if he was waiting for a command.
Not waiting, he slipped me out. Licking his palm, he brought it back downwards, slowly pumping me up and down, the wet slide of his saliva combined with the heat of his hand providing a near mind blanking sensation. I felt his lips against the side of my neck, sucking bruises against me as he trailed his tongue down across my chest. I gasped as his teeth enclosed around one pert nipple, tongue lapping at it as if to soothe the hurt. Meanwhile, his thumb was catching the drop of precum gathering at my tip, sliding it down across me. When I opened my eyes, I could see the silver glow of his own as he stared down at his own hand and how perfectly it fit around my cock.
I could feel the desire building within me. Gabriel was a man that threw himself wholeheartedly into what he was doing and this was apparently no different.
“I have a small confession,” he said. I looked at him, panting harshly. “I have not lain with a man before.” He didn’t look fearful and this was obviously something he knew was coming, but I realized then, he didn’t know how to proceed.
Reaching out, I cupped his cheek, the line of his jaw tense against my hand. “Do you want to stop?”
“Absolutely not,” he said with a huffed laugh. “If anything, I am eager to learn.” He renewed his grip on me, jerking me up and down, apparently fascinated with what he saw. I could see the hard outline of his own cock through his pants. It was a thick line against his thigh and left me salivating with the need to see it. As Gabriel continued to nip and suck at my neck, his free hand squeezing my ass, I felt myself gasping, tumbling into the sensations of his lips on mine. When he showed no signs of stopping, I tapped him on the shoulder, having to push his head away from mine. Eagerly, he dove towards my lips, sucking my bottom lip within his mouth, his tongue coming out to lick the seam of my lips.
“Gabriel,” I panted, pushing him back. His eyes were bright silver, casting a soft glow in the room. With a pointed look, I reached between us, slowly undoing the buckle of his belt. It echoed within the room, the sound of it clattering as it slowly came undone. I popped open the line of buttons on his pants and scooted back in his lap as inch by inch I took down his zipper. His cloth covered erection strained against its confines and as I slipped my hand inside, Gabriel’s head tipped back with an anxious groan.
He was hot against the palm of my hand, thick and veiny and something I desperately wanted more of. Slowly, I pulled him out, watching as his erection rested against the muscled wall of his stomach. The tip was already dark with need and glistening with the desire for release. Slowly, I began pumping him up and down, his hips jerking beneath me and his hands coming around to knead my ass slowly. He scooted back so his head could rest against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed as he enjoyed what I was giving him. Swiping my thumb across his slit, he cried out, the sound like music as he panted and twisted beneath me.
“I want more,” he whispered.
“What do you want, Gabriel?” I wanted to hear him say it, suddenly wondering if something filthy could fall from his lips.
“You,” he begged.
“Tell me though. Tell me what it is you want,” I encouraged.
He squirmed beneath me, his cock pulsing in my hand. “I want to taste you,” he whispered. “I want to feel the weight of you against my tongue.” I felt a rush of warmth as my balls drew up tight and I began grinding myself down on his thigh. Unconsciously, his hands went to my hips, his leg rising a fraction to encourage the movement. I could feel my erection drag across the rough material of his trousers as I fucked myself against the thick muscle of his leg. My grip on his cock tightened.
“I want whatever you wish to give me,” he continued. “I want you to use my body for your pleasure. Please, I–” There was something there then. A struggle within him that I could see. Tugging on him, I leaned forward, capturing his lips in a soft and sweet kiss.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
“I want to bring you pleasure,” he said. “But I want you to deny me my own.”
I felt my belly tighten at his words. His grip on me was intense, and his eyes were bright and shinning. Swallowing thickly, I nodded my head, standing from his lap and undressing the rest of the way. Gabriel watched me like a man starved, each inch of my skin revealed something he was desperate to get his hands on. When I stood before him, naked, my chest rising with the erratic beat of my heart, I held out my hand to him, giving him the silent permission to continue.
Gabriel sunk to his knees in front of me, his fingers gripping my thighs as he licked at the head of my weeping erection. The slide of his tongue against me was firm as he licked up the underside before wrapping his lips around the head and gently bobbing forward. I laced my fingers in his hair, looking down at him. When he looked up at me through the thick of his lashes, silver eyes bright and filled with passion, I felt myself twitch in his mouth. It was all the encouragement he needed as he pressed himself forward, letting me hit the back of his throat, before swallowing me. I gasped as I felt myself push down his throat, my own hand clenching convulsively, encouraging him as he continued to suck me off. I could feel my thighs trembling with the effort to keep myself standing, my hips rolling against his face as he silently begged me to just fuck him.
I pulled out of him with a pop when I felt my orgasm beginning at the base of my spine. Gabriel was panting before me, his lips puffy and shiny with spit. Slowly, he kicked his pants off the rest of the way, crawling towards the glass table in front of his leather clad sofa. He rested his arms upon it, looking back over his shoulder.
“I would like you to fuck me now.”
I gave out a huff of laughter at how incredibly insane it was to hear him even say that and yet somehow, made me even harder. “I have to prep you,” I told him. “I can’t just–” My words trailed off into a groan as he slid his own fingers inside himself without warning, something silver and high-pitched chiming through the room. I watched as his fingers slid in and out of himself, a grunt falling from his lips. Coming forward, I draped myself over his back, the scent of magic in the air. He was murmuring something in a language I didn’t understand, and as he pulled his fingers out, he reached around for me, lining me up against his puckered entrance.
“Please,” he whispered, just before I thrust in. I heard the whine punch from his lungs followed by a heady groan. He was unbelievably tight and I rested my forehead against his sweaty back, feeling my own pleasure skitter up and down my spine. Rolling my hips against him, I slowly pulled out, thrusting back in and feeling the delicious drag of friction. I was not going to last long. Gabriel was panting beneath me, gripping the base of his cock to keep from coming, and my own erection was pushing beautifully inside him, splitting him in two. I could stare at where we were pressed together all day, listening to the sounds erupting from him, filling the room.
Pushing him forward, I felt myself slip deeper. His eyes glowed silver as he looked at me over his shoulder, a desperation there that said he was close. Picking up my speed, I fucked him in earnest then, feeling my balls draw up. Within moments, I was shouting my own release, my fingers leaving bruises into his hips as I held him close to me.
When I pulled out, his cock was still hard. Gabriel stared at me like a wild animal as he turned, gathering me to him while we remained on the floor. I could feel the pound of his heart and the way he buried his face in my neck.
“Thank you,” he whispered. I nearly huffed out a laugh. He was still rock hard, and his cock looked angry with the lack of release. But he was running his lips across me as if I had just given him the most precious gift. “Thank you, thank you thank you….”
I held onto him just as tight, refusing to let him go until his cock went soft against my thigh.
[[Next|After Sex]]I could feel the hard line of him against my hip. As he loomed over me, eyes tinted silver, I could see the tension within his arms. The way he was holding himself, waiting for my command. Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the strands of it fall forward out of the hold he put it in every morning. Locking eyes with him, I rolled my hips in way of answer, feeling the way he trembled at the sensation. I surged upwards, taking his lips against mine and feeling the way he opened to me. Grabbing me by the small of the back, he pulled me upwards, situating me until I was in his lap. I shoved at his shirt, wanting to feel the heat of his skin against my own. Meanwhile, he pushed and pulled at my top, discarding it along with his own, both hands coming up to cup my breasts.
Looking down, I watched as his thumbs rolled across me, eyes bright with what he saw. I felt him arch up, his cloth covered cock seeking out the wet warmth between my legs. He was enraptured. It was the only word I could think of as he stared at me longingly. As he kneaded my breasts, I could see the way his lips parted, eyes suddenly eager for whatever I was going to allow of him.
“Go ahead,” I told him softly, curious if he was waiting for a command.
With a hand at the small of my back, he bent me backwards. Slowly, almost reverently, he leaned forward, flicking his tongue across the hardened point of each nipple, groaning as he dove forward and unabashedly began sucking bruises against my chest, his tongue sneaking out to lave the hurt. My back arched, hand slipping within his hair to encourage him further. He grunted as my own hips ground against him hard, the hand at my back digging into my bare skin.
I could feel the desire building within me. Gabriel was a man that threw himself wholeheartedly into what he was doing and this was apparently no different. As he nipped and sucked, his hand coming up to squeeze each breast, I felt myself gasping, tumbling into the sensations of his lips on mine. When he showed no signs of stopping, I tapped him on the shoulder, having to push his head away from mine. Eagerly, he dove towards my lips, sucking my bottom lip within his mouth, his tongue coming out to lick the seam of my lips.
“Gabriel,” I panted, pushing him back. His eyes were bright silver, casting a soft glow in the room. I could feel the length of his erection and the dampness between my thighs. With a pointed look, I reached between us, slowly undoing the buckle of his belt. It echoed within the room, the sound of it clattering as it slowly came undone. I popped open the line of buttons and scooted back in his lap as inch by inch I took down his zipper. His cloth covered erection strained against its confines and as I slipped my hand inside, Gabriel’s head tipped back with an anxious groan.
He was hot against the palm of my hand, thick and veiny and something I desperately wanted more of. Slowly, I pulled him out, watching as his erection rested against the muscled wall of his stomach. The tip was already dark with need and glistening with the desire for release. Slowly, I began pumping him up and down, his hips jerking beneath me and his hands coming around to knead my ass slowly. He scooted back so his head could rest against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed as he enjoyed what I was giving him. Swiping my thumb across his slit, he cried out, the sound like music as he panted and twisted beneath me.
“I want more,” he whispered.
“What do you want, Gabriel?” I wanted to hear him say it, suddenly wondering if something filthy could fall from his lips.
“You,” he begged.
“Tell me though. Tell me what it is you want,” I encouraged.
He squirmed beneath me, his cock pulsing in my hand. “I want to taste you,” he whispered. “I want to run my tongue across you and bury my face between your legs.” I felt a rush of warmth beneath me as I began grinding myself down on his thigh. Unconsciously, his hands went to my hips, his leg rising a fraction to encourage the movement. I could feel the swollen bud of my clit as it was dragged across the thick muscle of his leg. My grip on his cock tightened.
“I want whatever you wish to give me,” he continued. “I want you to use my body for your pleasure. Please, I–” There was something there then. A struggle within him that I could see. Tugging on him, I leaned forward, capturing his lips in a soft and sweet kiss.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
“I want to bring you pleasure,” he said. “But I want you to deny me my own.”
I felt my belly tighten at his words. His grip on me was intense, and his eyes were bright and shinning. Swallowing thickly, I nodded, standing from my position on his lap and undressing the rest of the way. Gabriel watched me like a man starved, each inch of my skin revealed something he was desperate to get his hands on. When I stood before him, naked, my chest rising with the erratic beat of my heart, I held out my hand to him, giving him silent permission to continue.
Gabriel pulled me to him then, laying flat on his back on the sofa. With deft hands he maneuvered me until I was hovering above him. The slide of his tongue against my wet folds had me gasping as I scrambled to hold onto the back of the sofa. His grip on me was tight as he pulled me down against his mouth, his tongue flicking back and forth over my clit until I was squirming above him and I was almost certain he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t stop though, his lips moved against me as he hardened his tongue to a point, dragging it up and down. I could feel my thighs trembling with the effort to keep myself hovering above him but as he yanked my weight down on top of him completely, I felt myself start to let go. I rocked my hips against his lips, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure he made as he continued to lick and suck, spearing his tongue inside me and teasing the muscled walls. When I felt myself flutter, releasing across him, it was so sudden that I gave him no warning. Gabriel let out a lengthy groan though as I spilled across his chin, before he pushed me forward until I lay on the flat of my back.
Holding his cock at the base, he teased it up and down my wet slit. “May I?” he asked.
My body was still trembling with orgasm as I nodded my head towards him. Gently, he eased himself past my opening, barely inserting himself before pulling back out. I watch the dark head of his cock become shiny with my own need, all the while Gabriel looked down at where I was spread open, licking the taste of me from his lips.
Arching, I panted, gripping onto the arm of the couch behind me and trying to push down on his cock. “I want you inside me, Gabriel,” I told him desperately.
He paused, the thick length of him partially inserted. “Anything you command,” he told me and then thrust inside. I gasped as my body adjusted to him, my mouth open in a prolonged moan. He didn’t move, instead pressing soft kisses up and down my neck and chest, waiting for me. When I rolled my hips, giving him permission, he began to move as well. The fluid motion of his hips had me groaning as he pushed into me, pulling himself all the way out before thrusting forward again. Gabriel was loud during sex, grunting and panting, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought his own need. I saw him several times squeeze the base of himself as he pushed and pulled at my hips. But he never stopped. He kept the rhythm, his lips grazing across my body as he began murmuring something in a language I didn’t understand, straight into my skin.
Bending my knees, I felt him slip deeper, his fingers coming up to play with my clit. It wasn’t going to be long now. I wanted to feel the pulse of him, that thick cock playing me until I was left a quivering mess. His eyes glowed silver as I looked at him and he nodded, hair falling in front of his face. Ducking his head, he began fucking me with earnest, the slow roll of his hips picking up speed as he reached between our bodies and rolled my clit between his calloused fingers. I could feel it then. The wind up at the base of my spine. I arched my back as he leaned down, catching one hardened nipple between his teeth. When I felt myself let go, it was with a scream as Gabriel continued to fuck me through it, not letting up his pace until I felt my muscles clench around him once again and I was clinging to him for dear life.
When he pulled out, his cock was hard and shiny, the tip covered in my release. He stared at me like a wild animal as he gathered me to him. I could feel the pound of his heart and the way he buried his face in my neck.
“Thank you,” he whispered. I nearly huffed out a laugh. He was still rock hard, and his cock looked angry with the lack of release. But he was running his lips across me as if I had just given him the most precious gift. “Thank you, thank you thank you….”
I held onto him just as tight, refusing to let him go until his cock went soft against my thigh.
[[Next|After Sex]]
I woke to the earthy smell of fresh ground wheat. It lingered with a certain heat, curling under my door and waking me for the morning. My window was open from the night before, the wisps chatting in the nearby tree and as I looked out towards the horizon, I could see the lights brightening. The Night Market waking for the duration of the day.
Stretching, I rose from bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes and going about the small morning routine I had adopted since being here. It wasn’t much but it was a bit of expected moments that made me feel normal. Like I wasn’t some lost soul that was now being told I would need to save the market.
It was funny, really.
The events of the day had gone by in a flash, the gate that opened in the Spice District went quiet almost as soon as it appeared. The refugees were safe, and the market was returning to normal. Yet, inside the apothecary walls, it was a different story. A secret had been formed by four very different people with me at the epicenter. How I had fallen into it felt like a rushed series of events that I still didn’t quite understand.
But I couldn’t let the market die. If there was something I could do, I knew I would have to do it. Because really, what kind of person did that make me if I was the type to let the innocent die due to self-serving ideals? There would be no memories for me to recover, no home to return to, if we failed.
Slipping on my boots, I made my way into the front room. Above the hearth, Hazel had a large contraption with various stages of the moon. Each day, it moved, marking the passage of time. The apothecary was not open on the days that the crescent moon hung at the highest point. Instead, Hazel claimed that was a day of rest. To prep for the upcoming days. To catch up on sleep. Even the wisps seemed calmer on these days.
I found Hazel in the small kitchenette, pots bubbling and circling her head while spoons tapped against the walls in a mimicry of song. On the windowsill, dough was rising, the wisps dressing it with sprigs of thyme and lavender. Hazel swayed in the middle of it all, her skirts brushing the floor, painting flour sigils on the chipped tile.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>We had come home from the ruins last night, hand in hand. Milo had spotted the change immediately and ran from the affection as soon as he could. But of course not before kissing Hazel’s cheek and giving me an indiscernible look. I was almost certain there would be a brotherly talking to later.
When we arrived back at the apothecary, the two of us had sat up together, drinking tea and munching on scones. Hazel looked pretty backlit by the light of the wisps. When I had opened my arms for her towards the end of the night, she had scrambled forward, burrowing herself against my side. I felt my body melt as I held onto this woman, my fingers tracing the patches of her skirt, her own walking up and down my arms. When the night had grown cold I had been reluctant to pull away. But the kiss and promise of tomorrow she had given me left a smile on my lips.<</if>>
“Good morning.”
Hazel jumped, the pots quickly returning to the stove and little hot plates, shuttering as they settled. She turned towards me, flour on her cheeks, her eyes wide. “Good morning, $name,” she breathed.
[[You don’t have to hide that you can do magic]]
[[What are you baking?]]
[[Sorry if I scared you]]
“You don’t have to hide it, you know.” Magic was banned within the market. Though the ban felt like a guideline and an excuse for an arrest when the guard felt like meeting a quota. I had seen far too much magic to claim that it was enforced properly. The alleyways themselves were made of magic. It felt silly to ban a thing that the very world was based on.
“Hide what?” she asked innocently.
“Magic.”
Clasping her hands in front of her, she took a deep breath, blinking at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I had seen constructs rise from twigs and leaves. I had seen tonics brewed from simple herbs plucked from the garden. Inanimate objects came to life, the fire roared into existence from nothing, and wounds healed as if they had been mere scratches.
“Right,” I said, with a small smile. “Keep your secrets then.”
She giggled, casting me a knowing look. Not for one second did she actually believe she was hiding anything. She simply liked the deniability.
“Would you like to help me today?” she asked. I looked around at the mess of the kitchen. The home Hazel kept above the shop was far from dirty but it was cluttered. Every surface was packed with bottles of dried herbs, bowls of multiple colors, and various wooden spoons. The hand sewn curtains wafted in the willow branch window and the sink was deep, watering plants most of the time as opposed to washing dishes.
“What are we doing today?” I asked.
“Muffins,” she said with delight. “It’s what I start all my entry level bakers on. Come here.”
I walked over to her, watching as she pulled out an apron. It had limp frills and was made of blue gingham. Reaching forward, she tied it around my waist. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Her hands lingered on my back, a blush rising to the apples of her cheek. Looking at me through the thick of her lashes, she shuffled her feet. “Just got to tie it,” she said, clearing her throat. Her fingers were gentle against my back, her thumb running across the base of my spine. “There,” she said a bit hoarsely.<</if>>
Stepping back, she placed her hands on her hips. “Alright then. First rule of muffin making. What is it?”
[[Wash your hands]]
[[Don’t burn the muffins]]
[[Listen to whatever you say?]]
“What are you baking?” I asked, ignoring the magic we both knew she claimed she did not have. Loudly, in fact. Especially in front of any guards.
“Oh,” she perked up, wiping her hands on her skirt. “I was experimenting, actually. I thought I could take my sourdough starter and infuse in with some of the herbs from the garden.”
“Sounds good,” I told her. Not too hard either for someone like Hazel.
“Yes. If I can get it right, then one slice of bread could be mood altering. I could sell it to people that struggle with anxiety and depression. They say carbs are the best cure for the blues.”
Magic bread then. Leave it to Hazel to infuse her baking with something such as that.
“I’ll be curious to see how it turns out.” I didn’t care about the effects. Hazel’s baking was good enough that I knew I would eat whatever she offered me without question.
“Would you like to help me today?” she asked. I looked around at the mess of the kitchen. The home Hazel kept above the shop was far from dirty but it was cluttered. Every surface was packed with bottles of dried herbs, bowls of multiple colors, and various wooden spoons. The hand sewn curtains wafted in the willow branch window and the sink was deep, watering plants most of the time as opposed to washing dishes.
“What are we doing today?” I asked.
“Muffins,” she said with delight. “It’s what I start all my entry level bakers on. Come here.”
I walked over to her, watching as she pulled out an apron. It had limp frills and was made of blue gingham. Reaching forward, she tied it around my waist. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Her hands lingered on my back, a blush rising to the apples of her cheek. Looking at me through the thick of her lashes, she shuffled her feet. “Just got to tie it,” she said, clearing her throat. Her fingers were gentle against my back, her thumb running across the base of my spine. “There,” she said a bit hoarsely.<</if>>
Stepping back, she placed her hands on her hips. “Alright then. First rule of muffin making. What is it?”
[[Wash your hands]]
[[Don’t burn the muffins]]
[[Listen to whatever you say?]]
“Sorry if I scared you,” I told her quickly. Hazel had lived alone for so long I doubted she was used to the presence of others in the morning. While she claimed she had helped many like me, housing and caring for them, I saw no signs of other life. Aside from the shrine behind her brother's locked door, there were no remnants of anyone living here long. Though, I didn’t know why Hazel would lie about such a thing. It seemed an odd thing to say if it weren’t true.
“No, no. You’re fine. I was just concentrating. I can sometimes get really into my baking and I lose myself a bit.” Her eyes lightened as she talked. They got darker when conducting magic. Sometimes leaving them nearly black. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know if it is early or not.” I had yet to figure out time here.
“Do you feel like it’s early?”
“No.”
“Then it’s not early. Time is just a construct anyway. A day can be as short or as long as you want it.”
“It sounds confusing.”
“Terribly,” she said with a soft sigh. I had learned though that the confusing nature of the market were the very things that Hazel found fascinating.
“Would you like to help me today?” she asked. I looked around at the mess of the kitchen. The home Hazel kept above the shop was far from dirty but it was cluttered. Every surface was packed with bottles of dried herbs, bowls of multiple colors, and various wooden spoons. The hand sewn curtains wafted in the willow branch window and the sink was deep, watering plants most of the time as opposed to washing dishes.
“What are we doing today?” I asked.
“Muffins,” she said with delight. “It’s what I start all my entry level bakers on. Come here.”
I walked over to her, watching as she pulled out an apron. It had limp frills and was made of blue gingham. Reaching forward, she tied it around my waist. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Her hands lingered on my back, a blush rising to the apples of her cheek. Looking at me through the thick of her lashes, she shuffled her feet. “Just got to tie it,” she said, clearing her throat. Her fingers were gentle against my back, her thumb running across the base of my spine. “There,” she said a bit hoarsely.<</if>>
Stepping back, she placed her hands on her hips. “Alright then. First rule of muffin making. What is it?”
[[Wash your hands]]
[[Don’t burn the muffins]]
[[Listen to whatever you say?]]
“Wash your hands,” I said with a firm nod.
“Oh, well, yes. Okay. Yes. What’s the second rule then.” I laughed as she went to the sink, washing her own hands, so caught up in her baking that she had already forgotten to do so.
“I don’t know,” I told her. “What’s the second rule?”
“The most important rule to baking,” she said sternly, “is that we mill our own flour.”
That had not been what I was expecting. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Don’t worry. I already did it.” She reached beneath a curtained shelf and pulled out a bag of flour. The scent that I had awoken to filled the kitchen. “Now, I need you to measure out four cups of it in a large bowl and make a basin. There we will add our other dry ingredients.”
I nodded, washing my hands and getting to work. A cup of tea floated over to my side, sitting on the counter next to me. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye and smiled. She had this coy way about her. There was always a shy impishness that she hid behind her grin.
“Okay, next, we need to mix the wet ingredients.”
“I can do that.”
“Perfect. Melt the butter for me. The secret to any good muffin is melted butter. Not hard.”
“Right,” I said with a nod. Of course it was. Who was I to question that?
[[Melt the butter over the stove]]
[[Melt the butter over the hotplate]]
[[Melt the butter over a candle]]“Don’t burn the muffins.” I knew there was a reason she did not allow Milo in her kitchen anymore. Something about eighteen valiant attempts that all ended with black muffin shaped rocks that Milo and her later took down to the river to skip.
Hazel grinned. “Good rule,” she said. “But not the one I was looking for. The most important rule to baking,” she said sternly, “is that we mill our own flour.”
That had not been what I was expecting. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Don’t worry. I already did it.” She reached beneath a curtained shelf and pulled out a bag of flour. The scent that I had awoken to filled the kitchen. “Now, I need you to measure out four cups of it in a large bowl and make a basin. There we will add our other dry ingredients.”
I nodded, washing my hands and getting to work. A cup of tea floated over to my side, sitting on the counter next to me. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye and smiled. She had this coy way about her. There was always a shy impishness that she hid behind her grin.
“Okay, next, we need to mix the wet ingredients.”
“I can do that.”
“Perfect. Melt the butter for me. The secret to any good muffin is melted butter. Not hard.”
“Right,” I said with a nod. Of course it was. Who was I to question that?
[[Melt the butter over the stove]]
[[Melt the butter over the hotplate]]
[[Melt the butter over a candle]]“Listen to whatever you say?” I asked with a raised brow. I didn’t think I knew the first thing about cooking or baking and I was going to desperately need her help.
“Oh, I like that,” she grinned. “But not what I was looking for.”
“But I should still listen to whatever you say,” I repeated, almost desperate for her to confirm that she would not be leaving breakfast to me. I was going to be no better at this than I was at tonic making downstairs. Something was going to explode.
“The most important rule to baking,” she said sternly, “is that we mill our own flour.”
That had not been what I was expecting. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Don’t worry. I already did it.” She reached beneath a curtained shelf and pulled out a bag of flour. The scent that I had awoken to filled the kitchen. “Now, I need you to measure out four cups of it in a large bowl and make a basin. There we will add our other dry ingredients.”
I nodded, washing my hands and getting to work. A cup of tea floated over to my side, sitting on the counter next to me. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye and smiled. She had this coy way about her. There was always a shy impishness that she hid behind her grin.
“Okay, next, we need to mix the wet ingredients.”
“I can do that.”
“Perfect. Melt the butter for me. The secret to any good muffin is melted butter. Not hard.”
“Right,” I said with a nod. Of course it was. Who was I to question that?
[[Melt the butter over the stove]]
[[Melt the butter over the hotplate]]
[[Melt the butter over a candle]]Taking the butter, I went over to the stove, grabbing one of the pots to melt it over. There were far more dials on Hazel’s stove than I thought was necessary, none of which were marked with anything other than squiggly symbols. Glancing at Hazel, I watched as she contently hummed at the pantry door, grabbing a few things from its depths. Certainly I could do something as easy as melt butter. I shouldn’t have to ask her.
Placing the pot on the stove, I began turning dials. Green flames shot down from the range tucked up above, nearly scorching my hand. I jumped back, looking at the blasting heat.
“Oh,” Hazel squeaked, quickly rushing past me to tap the stove and get it to calm down. The butter was black in the pot now. Melted. But black. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Maybe we should take you off the butter for now. How about you add the berries to the bowl?”
Turning, I looked to where she gestured. The berries were on a thick vine that made up the far side of the wall. Approaching them, I could hear them whispering, and I had a strange feeling they were testing me.
“Any suggestion on how to do this?” I asked.
“Just pick them,” she called over her shoulder, talking sternly under her breath to the flame. “You should be fine.”
“Just pick them,” I repeated.
[[Pick them]]
[[Let the berries know what you are going to do]]
[[Tear off the vine]]The stove was a series of complicated squiggles and dials and I knew that I would send the apothecary up in a blaze if I even touched it. But there was a hotplate nearby that I had seen Hazel heat tea over. Grabbing a pot, I plopped the sticks of butter inside and went over to the little copper round plate near the window. Setting the pot on top of it, I looked for a way to turn it on but it looked to be nothing more than a round disk. Glancing at Hazel, I watched as she contently hummed at the pantry door, grabbing a few things from its depths. Certainly I could do something as easy as melt butter. I shouldn’t have to ask her.
I stared at the plate dumbly though, unsure what to do next. When I heard a snort of laughter behind me, I knew I had been caught.
“You’ll have to ask the wisps to turn it on,” she said.
I looked at the hovering blue wisps hesitantly, feeling slightly like I was the butt of a joke. “Could you turn this on?” I asked them. They giggled at me in return, bobbing out of the way. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Hazel’s hand rested on the small of my back.<</if>>
"Wisps are kind of finicky. You need to start leaving sugar out for them at night. Then they won't leave you alone."
I saw a few little straglers try to edge down to help me, but they seemed shy. Like the bigger wisps were stopping them. Hazel frowned at them, her lips a thin line of disaproval. When two broke away to work on the hotplate, she made sure to get out a small thimble and put some brown sugar inside.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Maybe we should take you off the butter for now. How about you add the berries to the bowl?”
Turning, I looked to where she gestured. The berries were on a thick vine that made up the far side of the wall. Approaching them, I could hear them whispering, and I had a strange feeling they were testing me.
“Any suggestion on how to do this?” I asked.
“Just pick them,” she called over her shoulder, talking sternly under her breath to the flame. “You should be fine.”
“Just pick them,” I repeated.
[[Pick them]]
[[Let the berries know what you are going to do]]
[[Tear off the vine]]The stove was a series of complicated squiggles and dials and I knew that I would send the apothecary up in a blaze if I even touched it. But there were several brightly burning candles that were ever present in the kitchen. Hazel kept them going all hours of the day. When I had first seen them, I thought for certain they would light the walls on fire. The upper floor of Hazel’s home looked as if it had been carved out of a thick tree branch. But, one night, I watched as the candle got low, and the walls reached out, shaping a new candle right next to the old. The wick caught the second the old one guttered to a halt.
Plopping the butter into a pot, I went over to one of the candles, holding it over the flame. I was pleased to see the sticks beginning to melt inside and swished around the contents of the pot so it wouldn’t burn.
Behind me, Hazel snorted in laughter. “That is certainly a new technique,” she said.
“It’s working,” I told her, a bit more excited than I thought I had any right to be.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Stepping up to my back, she wrapped her arms around my waist and peered around me to the contents of the pot. My stomach tightened as her thumb ran small circles across my chest.<</if>> “It may be working,” she said, “but it’s going to taste like tree sap.” It was then that I noticed little bits of the tree dripping down into the bubbling pot of butter, turning the liquid into an almost syrup.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Maybe we should take you off the butter for now. How about you add the berries to the bowl?”
Turning, I looked to where she gestured. The berries were on a thick vine that made up the far side of the wall. Approaching them, I could hear them whispering, and I had a strange feeling they were testing me.
“Any suggestion on how to do this?” I asked.
“Just pick them,” she called over her shoulder, talking sternly under her breath to the flame. “You should be fine.”
“Just pick them,” I repeated.
[[Pick them]]
[[Let the berries know what you are going to do]]
[[Tear off the vine]]
They were eyeing me funny. It was not something I ever thought I would say about a vine of berries, but there was no other way to describe it when I looked at them. The berries had all turned their attention to me, vibrating in place like they were ready to pounce. I was almost certain that if I touched one of them, they would bite me or explode. But I didn’t want to turn and tell Hazel this was a venture into a bit of insanity I didn’t want to partake in.
Besides, they were just berries. I could handle this.
Reaching out, I went to go pick one of the little berries. They hung in clumps on the vine, swaying tantalizingly before my eyes. Wrapping my fingers around the tops of their stem, I made to pull but had to duck as a red dye was spit at my face. Stumbling back, I stared at the plants. They hung there innocently, acting as if they hadn’t done a thing.
Trying again, I reached back out, this time, getting a thimble of juice spat right into my eye. When I wiped it away, more and more came, until shots of juice were pelting me, hitting me with sharp little pricks.
“Hazel,” I called out. “I don’t think your berry plants like me very much.”
“Why would you say– oh!” When she turned and saw me ducking low to the ground to avoid the shots of berry juice, her eyes went wide. Hands coming to her hips, she stared at the plants with narrowed eyes and a stern expression. “Bad berry plants. No! Stop attacking $name!”
They twitched a bit, reluctant to even do so, sending off another warning shot that hit me in the shoulder.
“Don’t make me get the kitchen shears.”
With a sound of disgust, they shriveled up towards the ceiling, curling in a corner to pout. I turned to eye them suspiciously. “I don’t think we’re getting those berries now.”
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Next|Interlude gates]]<<elseif $chapterfour == "ruins">>[[Next|Interlude ruins]]<</if>>
They were eyeing me funny. It was not something I ever thought I would say about a vine of berries, but there was no other way to describe it when I looked at them. The berries had all turned their attention to me, vibrating in place like they were ready to pounce. I was almost certain that if I touched one of them, they would bite me or explode. But I didn’t want to turn and tell Hazel this was a venture into a bit of insanity I didn’t want to partake in.
Besides, they were just berries. I could handle this.
They were gathered in clumps on the vine, hanging tantalizingly low as if offering themselves for harvest. I didn’t trust it for one minute. “Alright,” I started, feeling crazy for talking to the plants. Though, I had seen Hazel do it was success multiple times. “I’m just going to pick a few of you. We need you for muffins.”
They did not move. Probably because they were plants.
Stepping forward, I reached out, curling my fingers around the berries and making to pull. A thimble of sweet smelling juice was spat right in my eye, dripping down my face slowly and leaving a trail of little black seeds.
“Okay,” I whispered, “I get that you may not want this but–” Another shot of juice spurted out, smacking me right across the cheek like a tiny little slap.
“Hazel,” I called out. “I don’t think your berry plants like me very much.”
“Why would you say– oh!” When she turned and saw me ducking low to the ground to avoid the shots of berry juice, her eyes went wide. Hands coming to her hips, she stared at the plants with narrowed eyes and a stern expression. “Bad berry plants. No! Stop attacking $name!”
They twitched a bit, reluctant to even do so, sending off another warning shot that hit me in the shoulder.
“Don’t make me get the kitchen shears.”
With a sound of disgust, they shriveled up towards the ceiling, curling in a corner to pout. I turned to eye them suspiciously. “I don’t think we’re getting those berries now.”
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Next|Interlude gates]]<<elseif $chapterfour == "ruins">>[[Next|Interlude ruins]]<</if>>
They were eyeing me funny. It was not something I ever thought I would say about a vine of berries, but there was no other way to describe it when I looked at them. The berries had all turned their attention to me, vibrating in place like they were ready to pounce. I was almost certain that if I touched one of them, they would bite me or explode. But I didn’t want to turn and tell Hazel this was a venture into a bit of insanity I didn’t want to partake in.
Besides, they were just berries. I could handle this.
I decided to snap off part of the wandering vines. There was one particular branch that was heavy with the little ripe blue and red berries. It would surely be enough for the muffins. Reaching forward, I grasped the vine between my fingers, feeling it shift a little against my palm. And just as I went to snap it off, it wrapped around me, pulling me flat against the wall.
I tried to move away, but the other vines came out, wrapping around both my wrists and ankles, the berries hissing in my ears.
“Hazel,” I called out. “I don’t think your berry plants like me very much.
“Why would you say– oh!” When she turned and saw me pinned supine to the wall, her eyes went wide. Her hands came to her hips as she stared at the plants, her eyes narrowing. “Bad berry plants. No! Let $name go!”
They twitched a bit, reluctant to even do so.
“Don’t make me get the kitchen shears.”
They shoved me off, pushing me to the floor and shriveling up towards the ceiling. I turned to eye them suspiciously. “I don’t think we’re getting those berries now.”
“Good,” she said. “They don’t deserve to be made into delicious food. Maybe they should sit up there for a while and think about what they’ve done.” She pitched her voice higher, admonishing the plant. To my surprise, they drooped in sadness.
Sighing, Hazel sat down next to me on the floor, her skirts spreading out around her. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to cook muffins with you.”
“It’s okay,” I told her. Suddenly, the fact that my food was sentient, was quelling my appetite.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>Reaching out, she rested her hand against my arm. “But it was supposed to be a fun and sexy baking montage,” she said softly, a coy smile playing against her lips. “You dump the flour, I crack the eggs, and we both wind up with batter on our noses. Instead, you nearly got eaten by the plants.”
“They tried to eat me?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to them.” Leaning forward, she rested her head on my shoulder. “Sorry it didn’t work out like I thought it would.”
She was in my arms though. Her body was warm and fit against my side in such a way that made my breath catch. Hazel smelled like basil and fresh spun dirt, the scent of the wheat she milled lingering against her like a perfume.
“I don’t know,” I told her. “I think this actually worked out kind of nice.”
Scooting, she tipped her head up towards me. “Really?”
“Really.”
The smile that spun across her face was bright and she squeezed me a bit tighter. If I had to be attacked my berry plants in order to make this happen each morning, I would gladly do so.<</if>>
<<if $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Next|Interlude gates]]<<elseif $chapterfour == "ruins">>[[Next|Interlude ruins]]<</if>>
We spent the afternoon tidying up the kitchen. Or rather, Hazel did while I focused on doing odd jobs around the living area. I was getting the sense that it wasn’t just the berry plants that didn’t like me, but the kitchen itself. When I suggested this to Hazel she of course told me that I was being silly. But I could hear her talking to the appliances while she cleaned, telling them to be a bit nicer.
As the day stretched on and the two of us had some tea and food, I fidgeted a bit in my seat. The morning to rest was not an unwelcomed one but now that the day was slowing down, I was finding my thoughts cast elsewhere.
“What is it?”
”It’s the gates,” I told her. “The one I was at yesterday. I want to go back to that tear.” I had told her about it upon arriving home, asking her about what I saw in hopes that she could offer me some insight. Like Gabriel and Belladonna, however, Hazel had no explanation.
“Do you think it’s safe?” she asked me. I could see the hesitancy on her face. Not that I blamed her. Given that we knew nothing about these tears and they seemed as if they could not be controlled, I didn’t think going near them was the most intelligent idea. But it was where I came from. And I wanted to get back there before the Velvet Guard swarmed and blocked it off to the rest of the public.
“I don’t know,” I told her honestly. “I just know that it could possibly have answers.”
“Yes but…” Hazel trailed off, her brow furrowing. “I think you were lucky yesterday, $name. Gabriel said he did not know how you got back out. You just did. What if you get sucked in again and this time, nothing pulls you free?”
[[It’s a risk I’m willing to take]]
[[I don’t think it works like that]]
[[You’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t go]]We spent the afternoon tidying up the kitchen. Or rather, Hazel did while I focused on doing odd jobs around the living area. I was getting the sense that it wasn’t just the berry plants that didn’t like me, but the kitchen itself. When I suggested this to Hazel she of course told me that I was being silly. But I could hear her talking to the appliances while she cleaned, telling them to be a bit nicer.
The small plink of rocks hit against the stained-glass window, catching both mine and Hazel’s attention.
“Is it the wisps?” I asked confused.
Hazel rolled her eyes. “No. That would be Milo.” Standing, she went over to the window, flinging it open. “I have a door, you know,” she giggled.
“Do you? I hadn’t noticed.” His voice rang out. I could hear the mischief in his tone.
“We will be down in a minute,” she said, shaking her head. Locking the window, she turned towards me. “Come on. I sent him out early this morning with more supplies for the refugees. He’s probably just returning the basket.”
Standing, I stretched away the laziness of the morning. Despite getting attacked by plants, it was a relaxing way to spend my time. “Why doesn’t he come up here?” I asked.
Hazel was wrapping a shawl around herself but paused at my question. “Oh. He– well. He has. It’s just–” She fastened the shawl with a broach, a pulse of magic filtering through the room at the click of the clasp. “He says that the memories here make him sad. Which, it made me sad too for a while. But, I just didn’t have another place to go and hide.”
I assumed this had to do with Malcolm. Or at least their childhood. It wasn’t my position to pry.
Upon coming downstairs we found Milo sitting on the counter, already eating from the sweets jar. “So,” he said. “The refugees are adjusting just fine. Krin says that this batch seems nomadic so she doesn’t think they are going to have as many problems as the others. Also, there is some talks of groups venturing into the ruins again and trying to settle.”
I thought of the abandoned buildings I had seen on the horizon. The ones that looked as if they were backlit by a setting sun.
Taking the sweet jar from him, Hazel reached behind the counter, tossing him an apple instead. “Did Krin tell them that we don’t know if the others have made it? We don’t know what’s even out there.”
“She did.”
“And they’re still going?” There was a tightness to Hazel’s voice.
Holding up his hands, Milo chewed on his apple. “Don’t shoot the messenger,” he told her. “Besides, from what I can gather, they look like they are playing it smart. Small scouting trips. Lots of supplies. People that are able to fight if need be. Magic users that we are going to pretend aren’t magic users. It’s a solid plan.”
“You’ve always had an obsession with the ruins,” Hazel muttered.
“And you’ve always hated them.” Milo bit into the apple, munching on it happily.
[[When are they planning on doing this?]]
[[What’s wrong with the ruins?]]
[[I want to go back down there and speak to Basalt]]“I have to take risks, Hazel. If I don’t then I’m never going to get my memories back.”
She frowned, clearly not agreeing with the sentiment. “I just think there are other ways.”
“If you could show me what they are I’d be willing to listen.”
But we had nothing. There had been some discussion that once I was able to find the Gatekeeper, I would be able to ask them about my gate but I knew that I was not to be the main goal of this mission. The others needed to find the Gatekeeper to save the market. Not to uncover my memories.
“Are you going to bring anyone with you?” Hazel asked.
I wasn’t. Mainly because I was afraid that someone would stop me. They already had yesterday. Today was going to be no different. But instead of lying to her, I just looked at Hazel instead, letting her come to terms with what was going to happen.
She sighed. “I don’t like this,” she stated. “But, you should be able to make your own decisions and have some agency. Just please, don’t get near it. And if you are not back here by the evening then I am sending someone out there. The entire guard if I have to.”
“That’s fair,” I told her. I could tell she didn’t want me to go. The fact that she was still trying to be supportive meant a lot, however. “I’ll be careful,” I assured her, heading to get ready to traverse the market alone.
Hazel fidgeted, tugging at her skirts. By the time I left, she had still said nothing.
[[Next|Interlude tear]]“I don’t think it works like that,” I told her.
“You got sucked in and pushed back out without doing anything,” she pointed out. “We do not know how it works. Why don’t you just let Gabriel investigate? I’m sure if he finds anything, he’ll let you know.”
The point was to get there before the Velvet Guard blocked it off. I didn’t want anything to be tossed aside as unimportant. There was no telling what could trigger another memory for me. If there was a way to peer through the veil and see where it was I was actually from.
“I just want to take a look around,” I told her. “There could be something there that could jog my memory. Or even give me a hint as to where I came from or where I need to start looking.”
“Are you going to bring anyone with you?” Hazel asked.
I wasn’t. Mainly because I was afraid that someone would stop me. They already had yesterday. Today was going to be no different. But instead of lying to her, I just looked at Hazel instead, letting her come to terms with what was going to happen.
She sighed. “I don’t like this,” she stated. “But, you should be able to make your own decisions and have some agency. Just please, don’t get near it. And if you are not back here by the evening then I am sending someone out there. The entire guard if I have to.”
“That’s fair,” I told her. I could tell she didn’t want me to go. The fact that she was still trying to be supportive meant a lot, however. “I’ll be careful,” I assured her, heading to get ready to traverse the market alone.
Hazel fidgeted, tugging at her skirts. By the time I left, she had still said nothing.
[[Next|Interlude tear]]I looked away. Maybe she was right. Going back to the tear was impulsive and rash. There was no telling if I would come back out of that. Hazel had ever right to be concerned and at the look on her face, I almost felt bad for bringing it back up.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I probably shouldn’t go.”
She smiled softly at me. “I know that this is frustrating. Just know that we are all working to find out who you are. You are not alone in this.”
Slumping back onto the couch, I listened to her words. I didn’t believe the sentiment to be untrue. I really didn’t. But sometimes, it felt like just words. Empty, hollow, words. Hazel and the rest of them were just as lost about my origins as me. We were all blindly stumbling together. Only,I was the one with any sort of investment in this. The others did not need to take this as seriously as I did.
“$name?” Hazel asked, concerned.
“Sorry. I’m getting in my own head.”
She nodded. “I suspect that this waiting around thing is driving you a bit nuts, huh?” It was an understatement. It felt as if there was something on the horizon but I was not allowed to see it. Unaware of the dangers that could arise. I had to just blindly trust.
“It’s an odd feeling,” I told her. “I want to go out there. Uncover who I am. But at the same time, doing so comes with the risk of just further and further pushing me from my goal. Belladonna said to lie low for a reason and I can’t help this nagging fear that if I don’t, then I’m somehow shooting myself in the foot.”
Hazel thought about this for a long moment. There was that furrow between her brows. The one that said she was struggling with her own thoughts as well. “Here’s the thing though. You aren’t lying low. The very nature of what we are asking you to do is you not lying low. So, and I hate that I’m saying this, maybe you should go.”
I blinked at her. “You changed your mind awfully quick there.”
“You presented a good argument. Besides,” she looked at me sheepishly. “I hate leaving the shop. But that doesn’t mean I should be projecting that onto you. Today I’m in the mindset to actually acknowledge that.”
“What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes I don't think clearly. The more magic I use, the more my mind is cast to the ether.”
I wondered what that meant for someone like her. Actively fighting against losing herself within her innate abilities.
“So you think I should go?”
“I think you should be terribly careful,” she said. “And if you are not back here by the evening then I am sending someone out there. The entire guard if I have to.”
“That’s fair,” I told her. I could tell she didn’t want me to go despite her words. The fact that she was still trying to be supportive meant a lot, however. “I’ll be careful,” I assured her, heading to get ready to traverse the market alone.
Hazel fidgeted, tugging at her skirts. By the time I left, she had still said nothing. Obviously questioning her own advice to me. I walked out the door before she could change her mind.
[[Next|Interlude tear]]I made my way back through the market. The path had been winding and yet somehow I still remembered the way. Fingers running across the walls as if I knew them, retracing the path that had been set the day before. I heard the birds before chirping from within the courtyard with the bloody gate. Saw the figure still covered in his shroud, a bone white hand peeking out from beneath long dirty folds of his cloak.
From there, I passed the heat of the lava. It rose like an ocean's tide, stretching further out of the area it had been confined in. Red lines of magma wound their way through the cracks in the cobblestone before cooling into black glass. I stepped over it all, eyeing the area where Belladonna had walked across, breathing in the surrounding scents. I could see the outline of the gate today now that I knew where to look. It shimmered with black soot like dust, just barely forming an archway against the wavering heat. So much blood. The doors were coated in it. As concerning as that knowledge was, however, I felt tugged forward. Like there was something connected right below my middle, reeling me in.
With one last glance at the gate beyond, I continued to walk.
Very little thought went into my next steps. Winding through the maze of alleyways that Gabriel had led us down was second nature. It was as if I was being called home, something from far beyond reaching for me and wishing to wrap me up tight.
The tear was still there, a deep slash against the sky. Jagged around the edges. The wind whipped in the alley, tumbling bits of garbage and forgotten memories around in a deep swirl. The entrance was at least four feet above my head but it hadn’t seemed to matter before. I had been sucked in without even touching it. The only thing that had been on my mind was the desire to find out where my home was. And the Night Market had tried to respond in a way.
“Don’t know if you should be here.”
I jumped, turning to see Milo standing in the alley. He had not been there before and I was almost certain he had not followed me.
“Didn’t the illustrious Gabe give orders not to go back in?”
[[Where did you even come from?]]
[[Gabriel is not my keeper]]
[[I’m not going to let the opportunity for answers pass by]]
“Where did you even come from?” I asked, my eyes looking around to see if there was another alley that I had just not seen. Even the sound of footsteps had been absent upon his approach.
“Well, when a mommy and a daddy love each other–” I gave him a scathing look that only caused him to chuckle. “I mean, technically, it’s when anyone loves each other here. Babies are just created all willy nilly. No one is safe from their conception.”
“You’re not answering the question,” I told him.
“Do you know what I used to do in my wayward youth? Follow people.” He leaned forward, bending at the waist conspiratorially. “I was very good at my job.” Straightening, he looked up towards the tear. “Now that? That may be above a reformed theif’s pay grade.”
“I somehow think you may have been more than a thief.” Petty thievery was far too simple for a man like Milo.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now. What are you doing here?”
“There’s someone in there. He doesn’t have his memories but I’m hoping that he can help,” I told Milo honestly.
“A man with no memories holding the key to your origin? You know how that sounds, right?”
[[I don’t care how it sounds. I need to find answers]]
[[Crazy. Yes]]
[[Would you really not go through it if you were me?]]“Gabriel Caine is not my keeper,” I said.
<<if $fleshpits == "true">> Milo nodded towards the bands on my wrists. Two identical stains that didn’t come off no matter how hard I scrubbed. “Technically,” he said. “He really is.” I balled my fists in response, hating the reminder of just how much control the Warden still had over me.<</if>> Milo looked impressed at my words, giving a small nod of approval. “I’m glad to see that you are not the kind to cower at the Velvet Guard. It will probably serve you well.”
“Aren’t the guard meant to help?” I asked.
“Do you see them doing much of that?” he countered with a raised brow. Unfortunately no. That had not been my experience. I could only hope that their design upon forming had been to do good. That there were still ones out there who wished to. The docks, what happened down at the beach, spoke more of a corrupt system than a corrupt individual.
“Now,” Milo said, looking up towards the tear. He had brought a cigarette out, letting it rest between his lips unlit. “What are you doing here?”
“There’s someone in there. He doesn’t have his memories but I’m hoping that he can help,” I told Milo honestly.
“A man with no memories holding the key to your origin? You know how that sounds, right?”
[[I don’t care how it sounds. I need to find answers]]
[[Crazy. Yes]]
[[Would you really not go through it if you were me?]]“I’m not going to let the opportunity for answers pass me by,” I told him firmly. The man within that tear was someone I had not been able to shake. His soulful eyes had stared right through me, addressing me and yet someone else all at once. As if I were two different people, inhabiting the same body. I wanted answers and I couldn’t help but think he might be the one to give them to me.
“And that is an opportunity for answers?” he asked, pulling his cigarette to his lips. It remained unlit.
“I came from there,” I said. “It’s different from a gate but it's where I appeared. It’s the closest thing we have to providing answers. And I’m sorry, I’m not going to just let that go to waste.”
“Did it provide answers when you got sucked in?” Milo asked.
It had provided more questions. A new face and a sinking sensation that begged the question, what if that really was my world? What if the area that I had entered, that watercolor reflection of the alleys, was where I belonged? The man had been lost though. Unknowing of where he even was. Were all the wandering spirits like that? Or was it just him.
“There’s someone in there. He doesn’t have his memories but I’m hoping that he can help,” I told Milo honestly.
“A man with no memories holding the key to your origin? You know how that sounds, right?”
[[I don’t care how it sounds. I need to find answers]]
[[Crazy. Yes]]
[[Would you really not go through it if you were me?]]“I don’t care how it sounds,” I told him truthfully. “I need to find answers. I will continue to help all of you because it is the right thing to do, but I still need to find out who I am.”
Milo tipped his head to the side. It wasn’t the first time he had given me that look. There was a puzzlement to his expression. Like he either didn’t believe what I said or didn’t believe what he saw.
“What if that up there did provide you with the answers to your home. Would you still help with the Barons?” he asked.
“I would like to say yes.”
“Like to?”
“Milo, I don’t know what kind of person I was before coming here. Would I like to say that I am someone kind? That I am someone who cares? Of course. I want to believe I was a good person. But, the harsh truth is I just don’t know. So no, I don’t know if I suddenly got all my memories snapped back into place, if I would be willing to help.”
He nodded. “Fair enough., but I’m not going to be able to let you do this, darlin’.”
“Why? What do you care about the Warden’s wishes? It’s clear there is no love lost between him and you.”
“I care very little about Gabe Babe. This is not about him. This is about you. You were lucky you got out of there the first time. Going back in? That’s not going to do you any good.”
“How do you know?” I demanded. “You don’t know where that leads. You don’t know who is on the other side.”
He leveled his gaze at me, his body very still. A decision was weighing on him. One that I could see warred within his thoughts. “How did you get out last time?” he asked slowly.
“I just fell out. I didn’t want to.” I had wanted to finish my conversation.
“If you can guarantee me a way that you’ll come back out, I’ll let you go in there,” he told me. “But I am not going to be responsible for losing you through a tear in the sky. Call it selfish but I really don’t want to explain that to the others.”
“You don’t have to tell anyone,” I said.
He hissed a little in displeasure. “Would that I could but the unfortunate truth about me is I cannot lie.”
“I feel like that’s a lie right there.”
Milo laughed. “You and many others.”
[[Dive in without his consent]]
[[Ask if he would come with you]]
[[Tie a rope around my waist but I’m going in]]“Crazy?” I asked. “Yeah. I know it sounds nuts. I feel that way though. I feel out of control. I just wandered through a market that I barely know, guided here by the touch of the walls. There is a man down the way who has bone hands and watches birds. There is an entire lava slag that is somehow being contained inside a courtyard. The world is lit by lanterns. The streets stretch based on gates. There isn’t a single thing here that doesn’t sound crazy and yet it all feels very normal to me. So I think I should just follow that gut instinct and go for it.”
“Through a tear in the sky.”
I nodded, sucking in a deep breath. “Through a tear in the sky.”
“I’m not going to be able to let you do that, darlin’.”
“Why? What do you care about the Warden’s wishes? It’s clear there is no love lost between him and you.”
“I care very little about Gabe Babe. This is not about him. This is about you. You were lucky you got out of there the first time. Going back in? That’s not going to do you any good.”
“How do you know?” I demanded. “You don’t know where that leads. You don’t know who is on the other side.”
He leveled his gaze at me, his body very still. A decision was weighing on him. One that I could see warred within his thoughts. “How did you get out last time?” he asked slowly.
“I just fell out. I didn’t want to.” I had wanted to finish my conversation.
“If you can guarantee me a way that you’ll come back out, I’ll let you go in there,” he told me. “But I am not going to be responsible for losing you through a tear in the sky. Call it selfish but I really don’t want to explain that to the others.”
“You don’t have to tell anyone,” I said.
He hissed a little in displeasure. “Would that I could but the unfortunate truth about me is I cannot lie.”
“I feel like that’s a lie right there.”
Milo laughed. “You and many others.”
[[Dive in without his consent]]
[[Ask if he would come with you]]
[[Tie a rope around my waist but I’m going in]]“Are you telling me if you were in my position, you wouldn’t walk through that tear?” I asked.
He looked upward, where the green cracked against the black night, a flicker of fabric flapping in the wind in such a way that it sounded like distant thunder. “If I was in your position,” he mused. “What position is that exactly?”
“No memories. No directing. But knowing that something dangerous could provide you with answers.”
He thought about it for a long moment, his eyes tracing the lines of the tear above. “If I was in your position, I would probably wash my hands of everything, if we’re being honest. You have done a surprising amount of agreeing. Knowing me, I probably would have woken from Hazel’s and set off into the market and gotten lost. Actually, that’s kind of what I did in the first place. Though, I had my memories upon coming here. Unfortunately.”
“I’m not turning my back on this,” I told him firmly. “I’m going through that tear.”
“I’m not going to be able to let you do that, darlin’.”
“Why? What do you care about the Warden’s wishes? It’s clear there is no love lost between him and you.”
“I care very little about Gabe Babe. This is not about him. This is about you. You were lucky you got out of there the first time. Going back in? That’s not going to do you any good.”
“How do you know?” I demanded. “You don’t know where that leads. You don’t know who is on the other side.”
He leveled his gaze at me, his body very still. A decision was weighing on him. One that I could see warred within his thoughts. “How did you get out last time?” he asked slowly.
“I just fell out. I didn’t want to.” I had wanted to finish my conversation.
“If you can guarantee me a way that you’ll come back out, I’ll let you go in there,” he told me. “But I am not going to be responsible for losing you through a tear in the sky. Call it selfish but I really don’t want to explain that to the others.”
“You don’t have to tell anyone,” I said.
He hissed a little in displeasure. “Would that I could but the unfortunate truth about me is I cannot lie.”
“I feel like that’s a lie right there.”
Milo laughed. “You and many others.”
[[Dive in without his consent]]
[[Ask if he would come with you]]
[[Tie a rope around my waist but I’m going in]]I stared at him, wondering how fast he was. Milo looked to be a lethal kind of spry and I knew that I only had one chance. Head hanging low, I let my shoulders sag. Let him think he had won. I didn’t expect Milo to be so gullible. Or maybe he just didn’t expect it from me. The second his guard was down I turned and leapt, reaching for the scar in the sky. I didn’t see if Milo came after me. I didn’t even hear him yell. I simply fell into a washed out alley, skidding across the cobblestones and watching as they displaced themselves, forming a gap around my hand.
I looked up, peering at the swaying darkness of the lights above. The world around me swam with monochromatic color, shifting like oil, pulling my gaze in every direction. Slowly I rose to my feet, searching for the man from before. The alley was eerily quiet, however. No ghosts to be seen.
I walked forward then, not wanting to waste my moments here. I looked back over my shoulder, still seeing the faint glow of a tear. I hoped that it would be how I would get home. Worried now that I was once again going to be placed in a world that I knew nothing about, expected to navigate through it with confidence.
The alleys were an exact mimicry of the market in which I had already seen. But they were desolate. The stalls were gone. The ornamentation that were strewn across the walls were not even shreds upon the floor. Like before, I reached out, touching the walls and letting them guide me in a way.
I came upon the bird courtyard, the gate there glowing bright. Unlike before, I could see it clearly. It pulsed to life, the snap of electricity popping within its bowed confines. The cage was gone, remnants of its metal swing laying on the floor.
Next to it, sat the shrouded figure from before, their hands resting on their knees, flesh where bone should be.
[[Approach the being]]
[[Look for the sad man from before]]
[[Examine the birds]]My footsteps were purposeful as I approached, trying not to sneak up on them. The shroud that covered their face was dark, blocking any of their features from my gaze.
“Excuse me,” I said, stopping a few feet from them. They didn’t move. Not a rustle of their cloak to even indicate that they were listening. “I– where am I?” I asked.
Again, no answer. I didn’t know if they were stationary. A figure that was only a representation of the one in the real world. Their flesh looked solid though. Far more real than anything else around me. Aside from the gate.
“I’m not supposed to be here,” I said. “I came through a tear. I–”
One hand rose. A single change in the surrounding air. Reaching out, they pointed towards the gate.
“That?” I asked. “Am I supposed to go through it? Will that take me home?” Not to the Night Market, but to my home. Wherever it is that I came from. Their hand did not waver as they held it steady, a sign post for the gate.
The gate crackled against the air and I thought I could hear the sound of birds. They were creatures that had flown in from what we were assuming was a dead world, escaping the hell of their own. Or, they had come here by mistake and had yet to figure out how to get home. There was nothing special about them. Just little birds that hopped around, chirping, never taking flight from the district.
Looking at the shrouded being once more, I knew I had a choice. They were not going to be talking any time soon. I could either go through that gate, go back to Milo, or continue to wander in hopes that I would find something more.
[[Go through the gate]]
[[Go back through the tear]]
[[Continue to explore the market]]“Come with me if you are so worried.”
“Come with you into the random tear in the sky, where we might never come back out of? Nah. That’s the type of crazy that I have a little trouble with. Gives me indigestion.”
“I’m not leaving here without going through that tear.”
Milo sighed, shoulders sagging. “Alright, listen. Come with me. I’ll buy you a pint. We’ll talk. You want to go in there? Fine. I doubt I’d be able to stop someone like you from doing anything without some serious magic. But let's figure out how to do this safely.”
I looked back at the tear, willing myself to just not listen to him. To go through. But I didn’t know how I had even gotten back last time. I didn’t know if it was a fluke or if unknown magics had pulled me back through. And when it came down to it, if Milo Next, the man who didn’t know the meaning of the world caution, was still dubious about such a plan? It probably wasn’t a good idea.
"There's the logic," he said, seeing my crestfallen face "Come on. You want to skip in there hand in hand, singing a jaunty little tune? I'm all for it. But, we should probably figure out a way to get out of there after. Maybe learn how to harmonize together. And maybe duck out of the way of the guards that are coming down the alley now." On cue, I heard them. The marching bootfalls of several men and women, heading this way on patrol.
Stepping to Milo's side, I nodded with a defeated sigh, willing him to lead me away. It probably had been crazy to back here in the first place.
[[Next|Interlude Bar with Milo]]
I stepped up to the gate. It was no bigger than a standard door, this one squared off at the top with bird like carvings against the border. It crackled, the light from this one a mixture of gold green and deep amber. I could feel the magic that emanated from it, tendrils of it reaching out like smoke.
Hesitantly, I reached out, brushing my fingers against the pops and cracks that jumped out at me. They didn’t hurt. If anything, they tickled.
Casting another look towards the shrouded figure, I watched as their hand dropped to their lap, receding into the sleeves of their cloak. With a deep breath, I stepped right through.
And wound back beneath the tear, in the desolate part of the abandoned market where the grey murk swam and dripped down the walls.
Sitting up, I looked around. Back right where I had begun. Nothing had changed. No one was here. I was simply on the other side of the tear like no time had passed.
Standing, I made to march my way back down that alley and try again. Perhaps find another gate. But as I stepped forward I ran right into Milo.
He clutched my shirt, holding me tight as the lights above flickered to life and the alley of the Night Market, the true Night Market, swam into view.
“What the fuck were you trying to do?” he snapped at me.
I looked around. The tear was above me again but I was back to where Milo was. Just like before, I had been spat back out with no warning. I could smell it though. The crack of magic. It hung heavy in the air.
“$name,” Milo barked. I looked up at him, realizing now my legs were weak beneath me, my energy feeling drained. “What did you see?” he asked.
I shook my head. Nothing. That was the problem. Nothing of importance. Nothing that would give me an insight into what I was. Who I was.
I didn’t apologize for my actions. I felt numb, almost. As if whatever journey I had been on had zapped me of all my energy. Once Milo had made sure I was steady on my feet, he eyed the tear above us suspiciously.
“Come on,” he said. “Think it's been enough of a day, yeah? Let’s get you back to Hazel’s.”
I didn’t think it was a request. I was going to be going back to the apothecary whether I wanted to or not. I was too tired to fight. Falling in step behind Milo, I looked back at the tear once. I would be coming back for it. This would not be the last time I stepped through into that world.
[[Next|Interlude Bar with Milo]]I was in over my head. As I stood in the middle of the square, I knew that this was far more than I had anticipated. The shrouded figure that had the bone hands on the other side, made flesh and blood here. The birds that were frozen in flight in the courtyard. The way the magic cracked against the air dangerously. I shouldn’t have jumped through. I hadn’t thought it through but instead had impulsively acted in hopes of seeing the man from before. He felt far safer than whatever I had entered into now.
Without another look at the figure on the bench, I ran from the courtyard, running my hands down the cobbled walls until I reached the tear again. The world around me was unchanged but I suddenly didn’t feel safe. As if the surrounding air was cloying. Trying to push me out.
I shouldn’t be here.
I should never have come here.
Lifting my hand, I reached for the tear, unsure how to get home, and stumbled right into Milo.
“What the fuck were you trying to do?” he snapped at me.
I looked around. The tear was above me again but I was back to where Milo was. Just like before, I had been spat back out with no warning. I could smell it though. The crack of magic. It hung heavy in the air.
“$name,” Milo barked. I looked up at him, realizing now my legs were weak beneath me, my energy feeling drained. “What did you see?” he asked.
I shook my head. Nothing. That was the problem. Nothing of importance. Nothing that would give me an insight into what I was. Who I was.
I didn’t apologize for my actions. I felt numb, almost. As if whatever journey I had been on had zapped me of all my energy. Once Milo had made sure I was steady on my feet, he eyed the tear above us suspiciously.
“Come on,” he said. “Think it's been enough of a day, yeah? Let’s get you back to Hazel’s.”
I didn’t think it was a request. I was going to be going back to the apothecary whether I wanted to or not. I was too tired to fight. Falling in step behind Milo, I looked back at the tear once. I would be coming back for it. This would not be the last time I stepped through into that world.
[[Next|Interlude Bar with Milo]]I did not want to go through the gate. There was a danger in hopping through them. Spat once more into a world that was not mine. Alone. At least in the Night Market I have people who seemed interested in my well-being. Who would probably be upset that I was here to begin with.
Turning, I left the alley behind. While I wouldn’t go through the gate, I wasn’t going to go back through the tear either. Not when I had just gotten here. While the courtyard had offered me no answers, maybe another would. The world around me was just as sprawling as the real one. And somewhere in here, was the answer to who I was. I could just feel it.
As I stepped out into the alleyway, I heard the rumblings around me. They were ones I had heard in the market before. Hazel had told me they were the walls moving. A shift in the cobblestones as they clicked together, providing more space for the ever expanding world. I looked around, trying to see if I could see where the next gate was opening. Or even if one was. But the walls disintegrated before coming back to in a snap.
Suddenly, I was back in the courtyard, standing beneath the tear. I whipped around, looking back into the alley with the frozen birds. It was nothing more than a wall now. No way out of the box that I was now in.
Shifting, I made to march my way back down that alley and try again. Perhaps find another gate. But as I stepped forward I ran right into Milo.
He clutched my shirt, holding me tight as the lights above flickered to life and the alley of the Night Market, the true Night Market, swam into view.
“What the fuck were you trying to do?” he snapped at me.
I looked around. The tear was above me again but I was back to where Milo was. Just like before, I had been spat back out with no warning. I could smell it though. The crack of magic. It hung heavy in the air.
“$name,” Milo barked. I looked up at him, realizing now my legs were weak beneath me, my energy feeling drained. “What did you see?” he asked.
I shook my head. Nothing. That was the problem. Nothing of importance. Nothing that would give me an insight into what I was. Who I was.
I didn’t apologize for my actions. I felt numb, almost. As if whatever journey I had been on had zapped me of all my energy. Once Milo had made sure I was steady on my feet, he eyed the tear above us suspiciously.
“Come on,” he said. “Think it's been enough of a day, yeah? Let’s get you back to Hazel’s.”
I didn’t think it was a request. I was going to be going back to the apothecary whether I wanted to or not. I was too tired to fight. Falling in step behind Milo, I looked back at the tear once. I would be coming back for it. This would not be the last time I stepped through into that world.
[[Next|Interlude Bar with Milo]]“Tie a rope around my waist if you need to but I’m going in there.”
“That’s your solution?” he laughed. “I do like it. Genius, really. But alas. No rope.”
“Milo,” I demanded.
“$name,” he said. “Come on. I’ll buy you a pint. If this is incredibly important to you, we’ll sit down and conspire. I’d way rather you conspire with me than just go off and do something stupid on your own.”
I looked back at the tear, as if walking away would cause it to disappear. Milo was right, though. What was I supposed to do? Just walk on through? Without knowing what I was looking for? Without even knowing how to get home. I tore my gaze away from it, suddenly realizing just how foolish I could have been.
"There's the logic," he said. "Come on. You want to tie a rope around your middle and float free with some nameless guy? I won't stop you. But, we should probably go get a somewhat decent rope. And some liquid courage. And maybe duck out of the way of the guards that are coming down the alley now." On cue, I heard them. The marching bootfalls of several men and women, heading this way on patrol.
Stepping to Milo's side, I nodded with a defeated sigh, willing him to lead me away. It probably had been crazy to back here in the first place.
[[Next|Interlude Bar with Milo]]
We wound up at a bar that night. Not at Hazel’s. At the last moment, Milo turned, leading me down an alley I was unfamiliar with, towards one of the hole in the wall taverns he frequented. The place was beneath an old wooden bridge and down a set of river stone steps. The bar itself was in an old storm drain and was lit with bent pipes that had small lanterns attached. It should have felt cold and damp but for whatever reason the heated copper gave the entire interior a cozy feeling. The tables were large and rustic and the chairs were reclaimed and comfortable. It was exactly the kind of place someone could curl up in for hours. Not quite the raucous setting I expected for someone like Milo.
We sat near the back of the tunnel at a more private table. Milo went to the bar, a structure made from rusted grates, to get us our drinks. Returning, he set two pints in front of me, having one of his own in his other hand, along with a shot of whiskey.
Twisting the chair around, he straddled it, looking at me with a certain amount of curiosity. “Alright, I think we both know the real reason why you want to go back there,” he said. “You don’t actually have amnesia."
[[Why does everyone think that I’m lying?]]
[[If I didn’t have amnesia, don’t you think I would be doing something right now]]
[[What’s your insane theory on what I’m hiding?]]“Why does everyone thinking that I’m lying?” I practically shouted. Someone entered the market with no memories and it was the most unbelievable thing that anyone had seen. With an accusing finger, I pointed across the table at him. “You gonna go down that route too? The idea of me not knowing who I am is obviously a cover for something nefarious?”
Milo sipped at his whiskey.
“I don’t know who I am,” I stated firmly. “I don’t know where my home is. I am scared, alone, and starting to get a little mad. No one would want this, Milo. No one would do this to themselves on purpose. I–” The fight slumped out of me as I slouched back in my seat. “I’m sick of defending myself for this,” I whispered to him. “There is no ulterior motive here. I am just trying to find who I am. Put yourself in my shoes for a moment. Pretend like your entire life was erased. Everyone you knew and loved. And then try and wrap your head around the idea that you don’t even care because you don’t know any better.”
The weight of it simultaneously felt insurmountable and feather-light all at once. It was as if my body was revolting against the idea of never climbing out of this, but my mind didn’t care. Because how could you care about something you didn’t even remember? Helping the Night Market felt far more pressing than my own memories which almost felt like a betrayal to whoever I might have been.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently.
“Just,” I shook my head in frustration. “Don’t accuse me of making this all up. I’m not making it up. I’m just not.”
I was breathing harshly, more than one patron of the bar turning to look at me while my fingers clenched and unclenched around my drink.
“Well fuck,” Milo said, sitting back in his seat like he had just gotten punched. “Were you given anything? Did you have anything on you when you were arrested?"
[[Not that I know of]]
[[Milo, I have nothing]]
[[Pocket lint and some shitty clothes]]
“Don’t you think if I was lying I’d be doing something by now? I’ve been sitting around Hazel’s shop. I’ve been sweeping and sleeping. <<if $beginningroute == "fleshpits">> I work for the Warden filing papers.<</if>> These are not the actions of a deceitful individual with a master plan, Milo.”
He looked at me, his eyes blinking rapidly. It was clear he hadn’t really thought of it like that. “You snuck out today,” he pointed out.
“Because for the first time, I had a lead,” I told him. “Since arriving here, I found a place that might be helpful.” Reaching for my drink, I played with the condensation on the outside of the mug. “But instead, I think it might just be another dead end.”
I didn’t know if it was the defeatist attitude or Milo just thinking logically for a moment. But suspicion bled from his face. "If you really want, I’ll take you back. Maybe there’s a charm we can get to pull you back through.”
I nodded, not really giving him an answer. Maybe. It was always maybes. Life was just one big uncertainty.
“Well fuck,” Milo said, sitting back in his seat like he had just gotten punched. “Were you given anything? Did you have anything on you when you were arrested?"
[[Not that I know of]]
[[Milo, I have nothing]]
[[Pocket lint and some shitty clothes]]I felt a groan of frustration spill from my lips. “What’s your insane theory as to what I’m hiding?” I asked. “Are you like the Warden? Thinking I slipped through with the intent to bring Night Market secrets back to my world? Am I some sort of spy?”
He looked at me curiously. “Was that the explanation he gave you for arrest?”
“That and papers,” I said with a bitter smile. Grabbing at my drink, I played with the condensation upon the glass. It coated my fingers, a bead of dew dripping down my thumb. “So, let’s hear it. Why am I lying?”
“Oh come on,” he said with a grin. Sipping his whiskey, he tipped it towards me in salute. “It’s a good act, I’ll give you that. But seriously. Just you and I right now. Give it up.”
“Give //what// up?” The amount of frustration I was starting to feel over everyone assuming some sort of duplicitous nature was making my skin crawl. I wanted to scream. Lash out. Though, doing so felt as if it would prove their point even further. “Do you want to know what my memory is? My only significant memory?”
“Sure,” he laughed, still clearly not believing a word I said.
“A blanket. Some rusted orange blanket that my grandmother wrapped me up in when I was a child. It has these stupid buttons on it that look like they are two seconds from falling off. I remember that stupid piece of cloth right down to how it smells. But that is it, Milo. If I was some sort of evil mastermind than I wasn’t very good at my job because here I am, trying to defend myself to a man who is clearly more than just a thief, and I don’t even know how to do that because I don’t know what to say to even make me sound believable.”
I was breathing harshly, more than one patron of the bar turning to look at me while my fingers clenched and unclenched around my drink.
“Well fuck,” Milo said, sitting back in his seat like he had just gotten punched. “And you weren’t given anything? You didn’t have anything on you when you were arrested?”
[[Not that I know of]]
[[Milo, I have nothing]]
[[Pocket lint and some shitty clothes]]“Not that I know of or remember.” The initial moments where I was being dragged away, I couldn’t remember receiving anything, nor do I remember the guards taking anything from me. The Warden hadn’t given me anything along the lines of personal effects later and so I had to assume, I came here with nothing.
Milo was looking at me, as if deciding the validity of my statement. His eyes searched my own and I held his gaze. I don’t know what he saw at that moment, or what it was he had even been looking for, but there was a dawning realization in his eyes.
“Alright,” he said. “I believe you. Fuck, I believe you.” He shook his head, taking a large drink of his whiskey. Setting the tumbler down, he looked at me evenly across the table. “I had my suspicions. I’ll be honest about that. Because what Hazel doesn’t know, is that most of these people that have popped through with amnesia, haven’t had actual amnesia.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah. Fun, right? They were here, taking advantage of Hazel’s good will in various ways. Some because I believe them to be pieces of shit, others to try and harm her, and others simply to try and steal her mother’s spells.”
“And Hazel doesn’t know?”
“Hazel doesn’t want to know. She will always try to see the best in people. But the ones Hazel can actually help are the refugees. And they have rarely stayed with her.”
“What happened to the ones that did stay with her?”
“The liars?” Milo asked. “I took care of them.”
There was a weight to those words. One that suddenly made all those looks he gave me and the lingering suspicion I knew he had cast my way, make far more sense.
“So you brought me here tonight, assuming I was lying when I snuck out to the tear. You were going to ‘take care of me’.”
He grimaced as the whiskey went down. “Not my finest moment, yeah? But, I do believe you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Call it intuition.”
Placing my head in my hands, I breathed deeply, just trying to keep the chaos of the world at bay.
“Look, $name, if I can, I’ll try to figure this out.”
[[What are you going to do?]]
[[Belladonna seems to think the answers will just come]]
[[It’s fine. I understand that I’m not the most important task right now]]“Milo, I have nothing,” I told him bluntly. Absolutely nothing to my name. To my person. I had been dropped here through a tear and tumbled to the streets, forgotten. It was a demoralizing feeling in the end. The cobwebbed mind that I was desperately trying to clean out was not one to be trusted, and who was I to even blame anyone for that? Oftentimes, I didn’t even know if I trusted myself.
Milo was looking at me, as if deciding the validity of my statement. His eyes searched my own and I held his gaze. I don’t know what he saw at that moment, or what it was he had even been looking for, but there was a dawning realization in his eyes.
“Alright,” he said. “I believe you. Fuck, I believe you.” He shook his head, taking a large drink of his whiskey. Setting the tumbler down, he looked at me evenly across the table. “I had my suspicions. I’ll be honest about that. Because what Hazel doesn’t know, is that most of these people that have popped through with amnesia, haven’t had actual amnesia.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah. Fun, right? They were here, taking advantage of Hazel’s good will in various ways. Some because I believe them to be pieces of shit, others to try and harm her, and others simply to try and steal her mother’s spells.”
“And Hazel doesn’t know?”
“Hazel doesn’t want to know. She will always try to see the best in people. But the ones Hazel can actually help are the refugees. And they have rarely stayed with her.”
“What happened to the ones that did stay with her?”
“The liars?” Milo asked. “I took care of them.”
There was a weight to those words. One that suddenly made all those looks he gave me and the lingering suspicion I knew he had cast my way, make far more sense.
“So you brought me here tonight, assuming I was lying when I snuck out to the tear. You were going to ‘take care of me’.”
He grimaced as the whiskey went down. “Not my finest moment, yeah? But, I do believe you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Call it intuition.”
Placing my head in my hands, I breathed deeply, just trying to keep the chaos of the world at bay.
“Look, $name, if I can, I’ll try to figure this out.”
[[What are you going to do?]]
[[Belladonna seems to think the answers will just come]]
[[It’s fine. I understand that I’m not the most important task right now]]
“I came here with pocket lint and some shitty clothing,” I snapped at him, fingers tapping the table in irritation. My word wasn’t enough for people. It bothered me but I couldn’t say I would be any less suspicious if the situation was reversed. I had seen enough of this realm now to know that duplicity was within the very nature of the market. The fact that they all claimed the disuse of magic and yet tossed it around was enough to know most people were not saying what they actually meant.
Milo was looking at me, as if deciding the validity of my statement. His eyes searched my own and I held his gaze. I don’t know what he saw at that moment, or what it was he had even been looking for, but there was a dawning realization in his eyes.
“Alright,” he said. “I believe you. Fuck, I believe you.” He shook his head, taking a large drink of his whiskey. Setting the tumbler down, he looked at me evenly across the table. “I had my suspicions. I’ll be honest about that. Because what Hazel doesn’t know, is that most of these people that have popped through with amnesia, haven’t had actual amnesia.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah. Fun, right? They were here, taking advantage of Hazel’s good will in various ways. Some because I believe them to be pieces of shit, others to try and harm her, and others simply to try and steal her mother’s spells.”
“And Hazel doesn’t know?”
“Hazel doesn’t want to know. She will always try to see the best in people. But the ones Hazel can actually help are the refugees. And they have rarely stayed with her.”
“What happened to the ones that did stay with her?”
“The liars?” Milo asked. “I took care of them.”
There was a weight to those words. One that suddenly made all those looks he gave me and the lingering suspicion I knew he had cast my way, make far more sense.
“So you brought me here tonight, assuming I was lying when I snuck out to the tear. You were going to ‘take care of me’.”
He grimaced as the whiskey went down. “Not my finest moment, yeah? But, I do believe you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Call it intuition.”
Placing my head in my hands, I breathed deeply, just trying to keep the chaos of the world at bay.
“Look, $name, if I can, I’ll try to figure this out.”
[[What are you going to do?]]
[[Belladonna seems to think the answers will just come]]
[[It’s fine. I understand that I’m not the most important task right now]]“What are you going to do?” I asked him. I wasn’t sure what Milo had that everyone else could not. At the look on his face, he didn’t either. It was a nice sentiment, I supposed. One maybe he felt like he had to give after taking me here to obviously run me out of the market. Or kill me. I didn’t really want to ask.
“Don’t know yet. The answer to whatever is going on isn’t an easy one. But, the whole point of me having connections in the market is for things like this, yeah?”
The rhythmic sound of a guitar twanged through the room, the lights dimming as a stage lowered from the concrete ceiling above. Milo looked over his shoulder, eyes seeking out the tune, before turning back to me.
“Alright, look, I feel like I did that insert mouth in foot thing. So uh– drinks are on me tonight.”
“It’s fine,” I grumbled.
“$name,” he told me. “You may not remember who you are but I’m going to give you some advice. Whoever it was you were, is not here now. You are you. And you don’t know when those memories are going to come rushing back and ruin everything. So.” He raised his glass to me. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, darlin’ and enjoy the ride, yeah?”
On stage, the band began to play. Some sort of final song to play out the last of my day. Shaking my head, I rested it on my open palm.
“Yeah,” I told him. “Enjoy the ride.”
[[Chapter Five]]“Belladonna seems to think the answers will just be forthcoming,” I told him. Lie low. It was the mantra in my mind. The advice from a woman who operated on a different level of the market. I was beginning to wonder how sound that advice was. After all, it had been free.
“Belladonna thinks you not doing anything is going to flush out some sort of puppeteer,” Milo said. “But that’s all assuming there is a puppeteer.”
“What else could it be?” I asked.
“Several things,” he told me. “Just, don’t get stuck on one woman's opinion alone. Granted, she is an incredibly attractive woman and if I were in your shoes I would do anything she said, but– I don’t know. Lie low, I guess. But I don’t know what it’s going to get you in the end.”
The rhythmic sound of a guitar twanged through the room, the lights dimming as a stage lowered from the concrete ceiling above. Milo looked over his shoulder, eyes seeking out the tune, before turning back to me.
“Alright, look, I feel like I did that insert mouth in foot thing. So uh– drinks are on me tonight.”
“It’s fine,” I grumbled.
“$name,” he told me. “You may not remember who you are but I’m going to give you some advice. Whoever it was you were, is not here now. You are you. And you don’t know when those memories are going to come rushing back and ruin everything. So.” He raised his glass to me. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, darlin’ and enjoy the ride, yeah?”
On stage, the band began to play. Some sort of final song to play out the last of my day. Shaking my head, I rested it on my open palm.
“Yeah,” I told him. “Enjoy the ride.”
[[Chapter Five]]“It’s fine,” I said tiredly. “I understand that I’m not the most important task at hand.” Save the market. Without the market, there wasn’t going to be memories for me to uncover. I didn’t expect everyone to go around, trying to help me, when their home and their very lives were being threatened.
Milo let out a low whistle. “Self preservation and you do not go hand in hand, huh?”
I looked at him across the table, my gaze withering. “Would you rather me demand that you help me and forget about the state of the world?”
“Touche,” he said bitterly. “Believe me, I know a lot about having to choose between something for yourself, and something for others.”
“You don’t seem like a man that is about self-sacrifice.”
He laughed lowly, finishing his drink and moving onto his ale. “Purposeful, darlin’. One hundred percent purposeful.”
The rhythmic sound of a guitar twanged through the room, the lights dimming as a stage lowered from the concrete ceiling above. Milo looked over his shoulder, eyes seeking out the tune, before turning back to me.
“Alright, look, I feel like I did that insert mouth in foot thing. So uh– drinks are on me tonight.”
“It’s fine,” I grumbled.
“$name,” he told me. “You may not remember who you are but I’m going to give you some advice. Whoever it was you were, is not here now. You are you. And you don’t know when those memories are going to come rushing back and ruin everything. So.” He raised his glass to me. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, darlin’ and enjoy the ride, yeah?”
On stage, the band began to play. Some sort of final song to play out the last of my day. Shaking my head, I rested it on my open palm.
“Yeah,” I told him. “Enjoy the ride.”
[[Chapter Five]]“When are they planning on going?” I asked. I wondered if it was the solution to the problems the Night Market was facing. It looked as if there was a wide open stretch of land that no one inhabited. Perfect for anyone new coming in and perhaps providing a band-aid to the fact that the Night Market kept expanding.
Milo shrugged. “Not sure. Krin says it's all very new. But, I’d be curious to see if it’s successful.”
“How big do you think it is down there?”
“I’m pretty sure it stretches beneath the entirety of the market. Just like a ground floor or something. Which means that we could double our space here.”
“We don’t know if it’s even inhabitable,” Hazel said. “It could very well be like the Outlands and be too dangerous to settle.”
“But shouldn’t we try?” Milo asked.
It looked as if it were a conversation they had debated about before. I was coming to learn that on most issues, Hazel and Milo came out on opposite sides.
“Why would they leave and go down there when it is so uncertain?" I asked.
Hazel came up to me, resting her hand against my shoulder. “It’s not unheard of,” she said gently. “We see this often. Despite warnings, they are in a new world. They’re scared. They don’t want to just sit and wait for us to direct them.”
I knew the feeling far more than I wanted to admit. Because that’s all I was doing now. Sitting here and letting others direct me. Basalt felt like the first moment that I might be able to grasp for my own. A clear path to follow. And now she was simply gone, disappearing in history that was far too vast to navigate.
“$name,” Hazel said gently. “I’m so sorry. I know you felt as if Basalt had answers.”
[[Do they ever come back from the ruins?]]
[[Was any of the other refugees like her? Could they help?]]
[[What am I supposed to do now?]]“What’s wrong with the ruins?” I asked, noting Hazel’s concern.
“We just don’t know what’s down there,” she explained. “It’s said to be where the ancients once lived. And the ancients are not here in the Night Market for a reason. The entire unknown of it just gives me the chills.”
At first, it felt like an irrational fear. However, Hazel’s power was beyond what I could comprehend. Sometimes, I wondered if she unconsciously knew things that others did not. As if she sensed the magic surrounding a situation and knew when it was best to avoid it.
“It could easily solve our running out of room problem,” Milo stated. “So yeah, there may be some oogie boogies down there but I think it's still not enough to stop us from exploring. And by us I mean not me,” he smiled. It seemed to give Hazel some relief. “Don’t you worry, Haze. The adventures of Milo Next are left in my youth. These old bones are only meant for dancing now.”
“Why would they leave and go down there when it is so uncertain?" I asked.
Hazel came up to me, resting her hand against my shoulder. “It’s not unheard of,” she said gently. “We see this often. Despite warnings, they are in a new world. They’re scared. They don’t want to just sit and wait for us to direct them.”
I knew the feeling far more than I wanted to admit. Because that’s all I was doing now. Sitting here and letting others direct me. Basalt felt like the first moment that I might be able to grasp for my own. A clear path to follow. And now she was simply gone, disappearing in history that was far too vast to navigate.
“$name,” Hazel said gently. “I’m so sorry. I know you felt as if Basalt had answers.”
[[Do they ever come back from the ruins?]]
[[Was any of the other refugees like her? Could they help?]]
[[What am I supposed to do now?]]“I would like to go down and speak to Basalt again,” I told them. The woman was a seer. I was almost sure of it. I wanted to ask her more questions about me. About my name. She claimed there was significance to it but I had just picked it at random. Though, maybe it was a buried thought in my mind. My true identity popping forward when I needed it the most.
“That’s the other thing,” Milo said, wincing sympathetically at the denial. “Basalts gone.”
“What?” We had just spoken to the woman less than twelve hours ago and Milo was telling me she had already taken off.
“Krin said she took off this morning into the ruins. A few people got sent after her but they can’t venture too far without risking their own lives.”
“Why would she do that?” She didn’t know the ruins. She didn’t even know the market.
“I don’t know,” Milo said. “Other than she might have got wind that there were answers out there. The ruins are said to be the places of the ancients. They hold magic that we can’t even conceive here in the market. If she had people back home she was still trying to save or if she was looking for a way to protect her people…” Milo trailed off in a shrug. “People do desperate things when they feel backed into a corner, $name.”
“But, we were helping her,” I said, feeling a sense of defeat settle over me.
Hazel came up to me, resting her hand against my shoulder. “It’s not unheard of,” she said gently. “We see this often. Despite warnings, they are in a new world. They’re scared. They don’t want to just sit and wait for us to direct them.”
I knew the feeling far more than I wanted to admit. Because that’s all I was doing now. Sitting here and letting others direct me. Basalt felt like the first moment that I might be able to grasp for my own. A clear path to follow. And now she was simply gone, disappearing in history that was far too vast to navigate.
“$name,” Hazel said gently. “I’m so sorry.”
[[Do they ever come back from the ruins?]]
[[Was any of the other refugees like her? Could they help?]]
[[What am I supposed to do now?]]“Do they ever come back from the ruins?” I asked. Maybe she would travel a ways out and realize that there was nothing. Or that it was too dangerous. That she needed help.
Or maybe she would find something and come back for her people. Take them out there to settle among the horizon and the crumbling ruins of old.
“Sometimes,” Hazel said. “I’ve seen it happen once or twice. We just have to have faith.” She squeezed my hand tightly, trying to give me an encouraging smile.
Faith.
It felt like such a silly thing to hold onto when facing down the barren wasteland of my own mind.
“Why don’t you and I go out for a bit,” Milo suggested. “Pick somethin’ up for dinner and bring it back here?”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> “Actually, Milo. I think I would like some time alone with $name. If that’s alright.”
Milo raised a brow towards the two of us, looking back and forth with an indiscernible expression. “So this is a thing now?” he asked.
Before I could answer, Hazel was pushing him out the door. “Thank you for stopping by. I love you. See you soon.”
“Haze–”
She slammed the door in his face. When she turned to me, she was brushing her hands on her apron.
“Wow,” I commented.
“What?” she paused. Then, looking over her shoulder, she blushed a little. “Oh. Was that an overreaction? I mean, if I give Milo an inch he takes a mile. I didn’t want to talk to him about you and I. Especially because you and I are so new. Is that wrong?”
“No,” I laughed. “Just unexpected, I think. Coming from you.”
She swayed a little on the spot, sending her skirts swishing back and forth around her feet. “I just thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together.”
“I would really like that.”
Immediately, her face lit up and she bounced on her heels. I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her, wanting to put a smile on her face for many days to come.
[[Next|Interlude Hazel date]] <<elseif $miloro == "true">> “I think you two should go out to dinner,” Hazel interrupted. The two of us turned to look at her. She was smiling coyly, as if trying to pull one over on us. “I mean, it’s a lovely day and $name hasn’t really gotten to see the market. You should go to that little spot you like, Milo.”
“What little spot?”
“Any of them.” Turning, she headed back towards the door to her apartment. “Okay. Bye! Have fun!” The door clicked shut behind her, leaving us both staring at the wood frame.
“She’s most likely listening,” I said.
“She definitely is.” Shaking his head, Milo rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, uh– would you maybe like to go out with me? For a bit?”
Turning, I noticed the pinkness in his cheeks and the way his freckles stood out when he was embarrassed. “That sounds nice,” I told him.
He cleared his throat. “Good. That’s– yeah. Good.”
“You okay?”
His eyes snapped up to me. “Sorry. I’m rusty at this dating thing.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked on the balls of his feet. “I’d like to give it a go though. If you’d let me.”
Stepping up to him, I bumped my hip against his. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”
[[Next|Interlude Milo date]]<<elseif $relationship == "false">> “That sounds good, actually. I wouldn’t mind exploring the market a bit.”
“Well, darlin’, I am just the man for you then. Because I know this market like the back of my right foot.”
“Why not your left?” I asked curiously.
“Because I’m missing a toe there.” Looping his arm in mine, he tugged me towards the door. “Hazel, we will return with dumplings. Or tacos. Or maybe menudo.”
“Just don’t buy from Dillard down at the metal stall. His stuff taste like coin,” she called after us.
He waved his hand at her, and I had a feeling he wasn’t going to listen. Though, to be honest, I really wanted to know if this Dillard’s food did taste like coin. And how much of it Milo could even stomach.
[[Chapter Five]]<</if>>
“Was there any other refugees like Basalt?” I asked. “Someone who could help me? Maybe her people are seers.”
“Most of them are children,” Milo reminded me. “I’m not sure if they had the sight like Basalt did but I don’t think you should be interrogating a small child.”
“But the adults?”
Hazel shook her head sadly at my side. “I am almost certain they did not have the kind of magic that Basalt did. I only sensed that kind of strength from her.”
My shoulders slumped and my stomach twisted. So that was it then. The one lead I had was suddenly gone. Dashed against the rocks and tossed somewhere twisted and broken within the ruins.
“Why don’t you and I go out for a bit,” Milo suggested. “Pick somethin’ up for dinner and bring it back here?”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> “Actually, Milo. I think I would like some time alone with $name. If that’s alright.”
Milo raised a brow towards the two of us, looking back and forth with an indiscernible expression. “So this is a thing now?” he asked.
Before I could answer, Hazel was pushing him out the door. “Thank you for stopping by. I love you. See you soon.”
“Haze–”
She slammed the door in his face. When she turned to me, she was brushing her hands on her apron.
“Wow,” I commented.
“What?” she paused. Then, looking over her shoulder, she blushed a little. “Oh. Was that an overreaction? I mean, if I give Milo an inch he takes a mile. I didn’t want to talk to him about you and I. Especially because you and I are so new. Is that wrong?”
“No,” I laughed. “Just unexpected, I think. Coming from you.”
She swayed a little on the spot, sending her skirts swishing back and forth around her feet. “I just thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together.”
“I would really like that.”
Immediately, her face lit up and she bounced on her heels. I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her, wanting to put a smile on her face for many days to come.
[[Next|Interlude Hazel date]] <<elseif $miloro == "true">> “I think you two should go out to dinner,” Hazel interrupted. The two of us turned to look at her. She was smiling coyly, as if trying to pull one over on us. “I mean, it’s a lovely day and $name hasn’t really gotten to see the market. You should go to that little spot you like, Milo.”
“What little spot?”
“Any of them.” Turning, she headed back towards the door to her apartment. “Okay. Bye! Have fun!” The door clicked shut behind her, leaving us both staring at the wood frame.
“She’s most likely listening,” I said.
“She definitely is.” Shaking his head, Milo rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, uh– would you maybe like to go out with me? For a bit?”
Turning, I noticed the pinkness in his cheeks and the way his freckles stood out when he was embarrassed. “That sounds nice,” I told him.
He cleared his throat. “Good. That’s– yeah. Good.”
“You okay?”
His eyes snapped up to me. “Sorry. I’m rusty at this dating thing.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked on the balls of his feet. “I’d like to give it a go though. If you’d let me.”
Stepping up to him, I bumped my hip against his. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”
[[Next|Interlude Milo date]]<<elseif $relationship == "false">> “That sounds good, actually. I wouldn’t mind exploring the market a bit.”
“Well, darlin’, I am just the man for you then. Because I know this market like the back of my right foot.”
“Why not your left?” I asked curiously.
“Because I’m missing a toe there.” Looping his arm in mine, he tugged me towards the door. “Hazel, we will return with dumplings. Or tacos. Or maybe menudo.”
“Just don’t buy from Dillard down at the metal stall. His stuff taste like coin,” she called after us.
He waved his hand at her, and I had a feeling he wasn’t going to listen. Though, to be honest, I really wanted to know if this Dillard’s food did taste like coin. And how much of it Milo could even stomach.
[[Chapter Five]]<</if>>
“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked.
It felt like the only lead worth following. The one that had given me a small amount of hope that had been dashed against the rocks again. I hadn’t expected answers from Basalt immediately. I hadn’t even thought to go see her today. But, I had every intention of talking to her again. To know that she had left so quickly made me fearful that something or someone was working against me. Keeping me from who I was.
“Another opportunity will present itself,” Hazel said. “I’m almost sure of it.”
Milo though, didn’t look as convinced.
Hazel began bustling around the shop, doing what she always did when she was at a loss and finding something to clean. Eventually, I was sure it was going to lend itself to her cooking something once more.
“Why don’t you and I go out for a bit,” Milo suggested. “Pick somethin’ up for dinner and bring it back here?”
<<if $hazelro == "true">> “Actually, Milo. I think I would like some time alone with $name. If that’s alright.”
Milo raised a brow towards the two of us, looking back and forth with an indiscernible expression. “So this is a thing now?” he asked.
Before I could answer, Hazel was pushing him out the door. “Thank you for stopping by. I love you. See you soon.”
“Haze–”
She slammed the door in his face. When she turned to me, she was brushing her hands on her apron.
“Wow,” I commented.
“What?” she paused. Then, looking over her shoulder, she blushed a little. “Oh. Was that an overreaction? I mean, if I give Milo an inch he takes a mile. I didn’t want to talk to him about you and I. Especially because you and I are so new. Is that wrong?”
“No,” I laughed. “Just unexpected, I think. Coming from you.”
She swayed a little on the spot, sending her skirts swishing back and forth around her feet. “I just thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together.”
“I would really like that.”
Immediately, her face lit up and she bounced on her heels. I couldn’t help but feel drawn to her, wanting to put a smile on her face for many days to come.
[[Next|Interlude Hazel date]] <<elseif $miloro == "true">> “I think you two should go out to dinner,” Hazel interrupted. The two of us turned to look at her. She was smiling coyly, as if trying to pull one over on us. “I mean, it’s a lovely day and $name hasn’t really gotten to see the market. You should go to that little spot you like, Milo.”
“What little spot?”
“Any of them.” Turning, she headed back towards the door to her apartment. “Okay. Bye! Have fun!” The door clicked shut behind her, leaving us both staring at the wood frame.
“She’s most likely listening,” I said.
“She definitely is.” Shaking his head, Milo rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, uh– would you maybe like to go out with me? For a bit?”
Turning, I noticed the pinkness in his cheeks and the way his freckles stood out when he was embarrassed. “That sounds nice,” I told him.
He cleared his throat. “Good. That’s– yeah. Good.”
“You okay?”
His eyes snapped up to me. “Sorry. I’m rusty at this dating thing.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked on the balls of his feet. “I’d like to give it a go though. If you’d let me.”
Stepping up to him, I bumped my hip against his. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”
[[Next|Interlude Milo date]]<<elseif $relationship == "false">> “That sounds good, actually. I wouldn’t mind exploring the market a bit.”
“Well, darlin’, I am just the man for you then. Because I know this market like the back of my right foot.”
“Why not your left?” I asked curiously.
“Because I’m missing a toe there.” Looping his arm in mine, he tugged me towards the door. “Hazel, we will return with dumplings. Or tacos. Or maybe menudo.”
“Just don’t buy from Dillard down at the metal stall. His stuff taste like coin,” she called after us.
He waved his hand at her, and I had a feeling he wasn’t going to listen. Though, to be honest, I really wanted to know if this Dillard’s food did taste like coin. And how much of it Milo could even stomach.
[[Chapter Five]]<</if>>
“Now that I have you all to myself I really don’t know what to do,” she said with a small laugh.
“It doesn’t have to be anything special,” I assured her. “I know that you are a busy woman. If you just need help around here I’d be more than happy to do just that.”
“No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. “I– I want this to be special. I want there to be something that is between you and me. Something new that I haven’t really shared with anyone else.” The little crease between her eyes was deepening as she racked her brain for something for us to do. She had lived alone for so long that I was coming to realize, Hazel working as a ‘we’ might take some time.
“Hazel, let’s just do what comes naturally.”
“What comes naturally is cooking. Baking bread. Tending the garden and cleaning the apothecary.” She proclaimed with a frantic air. “I’m not a work aholic. I swear. I do know how to unwind. I just– these are all things I like. I take pride in my home and that’s how I spend a lot of my free time.”
I walked up to her side, taking her hands in mine. There was embarrassment coloring her cheeks, her eyes flicking around the room like I was about to make fun of her. Instead, I brought her knuckles to my lips, kissing them softly.
[[I love that you take pride in your home]]
[[Don’t overthink this]]
[[I’m willing to do whatever you want. As long as it is with you]]I stared at him as we stepped out on the front porch. I hadn’t seen him since last night. When the horizon had turned purple and the ruins beneath the market had sprawled into an endless dark. I had taken his hand. He had taken mine. And something shifted. It felt like over romanticized drivel but I felt the world tilt beneath us. As if I was doing something right for the first time. It was a moment that lodged in my chest like a chink in the armor I had tried to wrap myself in. When I had looked at Milo, I wondered if he had felt it too. His eyes had been shut, however. Washed away in the moment.
Now, he stood before me, hair a tangled mess, work pants slightly baggy and shoes stained with the dust he had kicked up on the streets.
“So,” he said, rocking back and forth on his feet.
“So,” I repeated, waiting for him to continue. His hands were in his pockets, shoulders bunched up around his ears. “Fuck. I’m usually a bit more suave than this,” he laughed.
“You’re trying to be suave?”
“Ouch.”
My mouth twitched in a smile as it eased the tension within him.
The distance between us was only a few feet, but he hadn’t moved towards me, nor I him. After a night's sleep, I wondered if things had changed. “Did we move too fast?” I asked, not wanting to hear the answer.
He looked genuinely shocked at the question, however. “Oh, darlin’. Holding hands and sharing a kiss might be the slowest I’ve actually moved.”
“Oh,” I said. It felt like more. Especially given that I had only just met him. I was intimately aware with how Milo kissed, though. Even more aware with the way his hands felt against mine. I was sure he was not desperate for attention within the market.
“That bother you?”
“What?”
His smile was self-deprecating. “That I’m kind of a slut.”
I raised a brow at him. “How much are we talking here?”
“Oof.” Pulling the cigarette from behind his ear, he eyed me carefully. “We may need to have a conversation, darlin’. Which is feelin’ real weird to say since I don’t have them.”
[[Why don't you have them?]]
[[You start that conversation then]]
[[Then let’s not have them. I’m okay with who you are]]“Why don’t you have them?” I asked. The lack of conversations he was willing to have with others versus what he was willing to speak of with me, felt significant.
“This is going to make me sound bad but I haven’t had the conversation with others because one, I don’t stick around long enough to even have them to begin with and two, because a lot of people I’m around are of similar mindset anyway. Waste of breath to speak of it, really.”
“But I’m different.”
“In so many ways.” Looking around the shop, he tapped his boot on the ground. “Let’s not have this conversation here though. Feels weird. Want to go on a walk? There’s a place I know.”
I nodded.
There was a small section of the market with winding cobblestone steps that rounded upwards towards a wall with half shell alcoves. We walked past small balconies strewn with silks and hammocks. Others with teahouses and bakeries. Milo ducked beneath a beaded curtain, holding the strands away for me. We walked four or five more steps upwards until we were on the other side of a stone enclosure. A window seat overlooked the rest of the market, the lanterns bright and high now. They dotted the horizon, bobbing up and down as if in breath.
“This is one of my favorite places,” Milo said, sitting down on the cushioned bench, pulling his leg towards him. “You can see for fucking miles here.” Pointing, he leaned out the window. “There’s Hazel’s. That kind of blue glow is the wisps. Over there is the weird forested section of the market. Some say it’s beautiful, I think it's creepy and requires too much hiking. And there,” he pointed to a dark stretch of land where the lanterns did not touch. “Is the Outlands.”
It was odd how the market lights just disappeared, being swallowed up in a strange blackness that didn’t look real.
“Is there anyone out there?”
“I think there is,” he said. “I haven’t traveled out there myself, but I don’t see how there can’t be. Guard sends people out there when they want to exile them. Others just walk out there themselves. You telling me they never meet up and make a society away from all this bullshit? Nah. I think there are entire civilizations out there. Some of them looking back at us, mocking us for staying in the safety of our little light bubble.”
“Do you not like it here?” I asked.
He thought about that, face pensive. “I wanted to leave when I was younger, actually. Kept taken jobs. Tryin’ to set myself up for a new life. I was going to get the first gate I could, walk away from this place, and start somewhere new.”
“Why?”
“Life got hard,” he said honestly. “And I was young and really didn’t know how to deal with it. I had it in my head that if I went somewhere else that I could start my life. That my problems were due to the market. It was bullshit,” he laughed. “I know that now. But when you are young and trudging through odds and ends that are made to bring you down, you just don’t really think clear.”
“What changed?” I asked.
“I got the opportunity to go and didn’t take it. Because I realized that I had built a life here and I was going to leave it all behind because I was a shithead.”
Hazel, I thought. He would of had to leave behind Hazel. I couldn’t imagine him leaving behind the sister he had claimed.
“Anyway,” he said. “Not why we’re here. We are here because I am a cad and you and I probably need to talk about that a bit more before this goes further.”
Leaning back, his arm resting over his bent knee, he looked at me seriously.
“What are your concerns?”
[[Milo, I genuinely don’t have one]]
[[Are you sleeping with others?]]
[[Is this just a fling?]]“You start,” I told him. We hadn’t asked if we were on the same page. We had gravitated towards each other in a way that felt natural and yet, we had yet to have a serious conversation about each other. Not too odd considering I didn’t know much about myself but still one that felt worth having. But, I wondered what he would say.
“I start. Good. Okay. Uh.” He looked around. “How about not at Hazel’s. Want to go for a walk with me?”
I nodded.
There was a small section of the market with winding cobblestone steps that rounded upwards towards a wall with half shell alcoves. We walked past small balconies strewn with silks and hammocks. Others with teahouses and bakeries. Milo ducked beneath a beaded curtain, holding the strands away for me. We walked four or five more steps upwards until we were on the other side of a stone enclosure. A window seat overlooked the rest of the market, the lanterns bright and high now. They dotted the horizon, bobbing up and down as if in breath.
“This is one of my favorite places,” Milo said, sitting down on the cushioned bench, pulling his leg towards him. “You can see for fucking miles here.” Pointing, he leaned out the window. “There’s Hazel’s. That kind of blue glow is the wisps. Over there is the weird forested section of the market. Some say it’s beautiful, I think it's creepy and requires too much hiking. And there,” he pointed to a dark stretch of land where the lanterns did not touch. “Is the Outlands.”
It was odd how the market lights just disappeared, being swallowed up in a strange blackness that didn’t look real.
“Is there anyone out there?”
“I think there is,” he said. “I haven’t traveled out there myself, but I don’t see how there can’t be. Guard sends people out there when they want to exile them. Others just walk out there themselves. You telling me they never meet up and make a society away from all this bullshit? Nah. I think there are entire civilizations out there. Some of them looking back at us, mocking us for staying in the safety of our little light bubble.”
“Do you not like it here?” I asked.
He thought about that, face pensive. “I wanted to leave when I was younger, actually. Kept taken jobs. Tryin’ to set myself up for a new life. I was going to get the first gate I could, walk away from this place, and start somewhere new.”
“Why?”
“Life got hard,” he said honestly. “And I was young and really didn’t know how to deal with it. I had it in my head that if I went somewhere else that I could start my life. That my problems were due to the market. It was bullshit,” he laughed. “I know that now. But when you are young and trudging through odds and ends that are made to bring you down, you just don’t really think clear.”
“What changed?” I asked.
“I got the opportunity to go and didn’t take it. Because I realized that I had built a life here and I was going to leave it all behind because I was a shithead.”
Hazel, I thought. He would of had to leave behind Hazel. I couldn’t imagine him leaving behind the sister he had claimed.
“Anyway,” he said. “Not why we’re here. We are here because I am a cad and you and I probably need to talk about that a bit more before this goes further.”
Leaning back, his arm resting over his bent knee, he looked at me seriously.
“What are your concerns?”
[[Milo, I genuinely don’t have one]]
[[Are you sleeping with others?]]
[[Is this just a fling?]]“Then let’s not have them.”
He raised a brow at me. “This one of those traps?”
“No,” I told him. “Not a trap. But if you don’t want to have one of these conversations than why should we.”
He stared at me. “Because consent is a real thing, darlin’. Kind of an important one too. Which, I know. I know. I look probably like the kind of fucker that doesn’t care or blurs those boundaries but it’s actually kind of a big one for me.”
I startled a bit at that, not having really thought of it all as a consent. I supposed if we didn’t know each other's pages though, it could become an issue. “All I mean, Milo, is that I am okay with who you are. As long as I’m not held to different expectations.”
The thought looked as if it had never even crossed Milo’s mind. “No. Of course not. I’m not that fucked up.” Looking around the shop, he tapped his boot on the ground. “Let’s not have this conversation here though. Feels weird. Want to go on a walk? There’s a place I know.”
I nodded.
There was a small section of the market with winding cobblestone steps that rounded upwards towards a wall with half shell alcoves. We walked past small balconies strewn with silks and hammocks. Others with teahouses and bakeries. Milo ducked beneath a beaded curtain, holding the strands away for me. We walked four or five more steps upwards until we were on the other side of a stone enclosure. A window seat overlooked the rest of the market, the lanterns bright and high now. They dotted the horizon, bobbing up and down as if in breath.
“This is one of my favorite places,” Milo said, sitting down on the cushioned bench, pulling his leg towards him. “You can see for fucking miles here.” Pointing, he leaned out the window. “There’s Hazel’s. That kind of blue glow is the wisps. Over there is the weird forested section of the market. Some say it’s beautiful, I think it's creepy and requires too much hiking. And there,” he pointed to a dark stretch of land where the lanterns did not touch. “Is the Outlands.”
It was odd how the market lights just disappeared, being swallowed up in a strange blackness that didn’t look real.
“Is there anyone out there?”
“I think there is,” he said. “I haven’t traveled out there myself, but I don’t see how there can’t be. Guard sends people out there when they want to exile them. Others just walk out there themselves. You telling me they never meet up and make a society away from all this bullshit? Nah. I think there are entire civilizations out there. Some of them looking back at us, mocking us for staying in the safety of our little light bubble.”
“Do you not like it here?” I asked.
He thought about that, face pensive. “I wanted to leave when I was younger, actually. Kept taken jobs. Tryin’ to set myself up for a new life. I was going to get the first gate I could, walk away from this place, and start somewhere new.”
“Why?”
“Life got hard,” he said honestly. “And I was young and really didn’t know how to deal with it. I had it in my head that if I went somewhere else that I could start my life. That my problems were due to the market. It was bullshit,” he laughed. “I know that now. But when you are young and trudging through odds and ends that are made to bring you down, you just don’t really think clear.”
“What changed?” I asked.
“I got the opportunity to go and didn’t take it. Because I realized that I had built a life here and I was going to leave it all behind because I was a shithead.”
Hazel, I thought. He would of had to leave behind Hazel. I couldn’t imagine him leaving behind the sister he had claimed.
“Anyway,” he said. “Not why we’re here. We are here because I am a cad and you and I probably need to talk about that a bit more before this goes further.”
Leaning back, his arm resting over his bent knee, he looked at me seriously.
“What are your concerns?”
[[Milo, I genuinely don’t have one]]
[[Are you sleeping with others?]]
[[Is this just a fling?]]“Milo, I genuinely don’t have any. I think you may be more concerned here than I am.”
He nodded his head at me, rubbing at the back of his neck before grabbing his cigarette to twirl between his thumb and forefinger.
“Hey,” I reached across the table to him, taking his hand. “This is all very new. I don’t have a lot of expectations. I think we just need to be honest with each other and things will work out.” I watched his throat work up and down as he swallowed convulsively, his nerves getting the better of him.
“I don’t believe in monogamy. When you are a person that lives for a long time, it’s a bit of a non thing. That all being said, I don’t go out of my way to have one night stands if I’m in a relationship. Not that I’m saying you and I are in one but I’m not just leaving your side to go to a bar.”
“What does it mean when you are in a relationship?”
He laughed a little. “Haven't been in one for a long time and when I was in it, I was a piece of fucking shit to my partner. But, my moral standpoint on that? If I love someone? One-night stands are out. If I want to be with another person for whatever reason, it's not happening behind anyone's back. It’s not happening without discussion. And I’m never using sex as a way to hurt someone. Now, given that I’ve never actually put that in practice, I’m not sure how that actually is going to work. But, there it is.”
I thought about that for a minute.
[[I didn’t think this would work]]
[[It didn’t change how I felt]]
[[I was fine with it as long as I was treated the same]]
“Are you sleeping with other people?” I asked.
“As of right now, I’m not even sleeping with you,” he told me. “Not that I’m opposed to that. But, your answer is, not really?”
“What does not really mean?”
“I don’t believe in monogamy. When you are a person that lives for a long time, it’s a bit of a non thing. That all being said, I don’t go out of my way to have one night stands if I’m in a relationship. Not that I’m saying you and I are in one but I’m not just leaving your side to go to a bar.”
“What does it mean when you are in a relationship?”
He laughed a little. “Haven't been in one for a long time and when I was in it, I was a piece of fucking shit to my partner. But, my moral standpoint on that? If I love someone? One-night stands are out. If I want to be with another person for whatever reason, it's not happening behind anyone's back. It’s not happening without discussion. And I’m never using sex as a way to hurt someone. Now, given that I’ve never actually put that in practice, I’m not sure how that actually is going to work. But, there it is.”
I thought about that for a minute.
[[I didn’t think this would work]]
[[It didn’t change how I felt]]
[[I was fine with it as long as I was treated the same]]
“Is this just a fling?” I asked him. Were we just having fun? The idea of doing anything akin to a relationship felt like such an insane concept. But we kept falling back into each other.
Milo didn’t laugh. He didn’t look at me with sympathy. Instead, he just nodded towards my concerns. “I don’t know what we are,” he said to me. “I don’t think you’re a fling. You also don’t feel like any of the flings I’ve had. Which, if we are being incredibly honest, scares the shit out of me. You, darlin’ came out of fuckin’ nowhere. Quite literally.”
“I’m not trying to push you into anything,” I told him. “I think I just want to know where we stand. If I’m not a fling and we are potentially heading towards a relationship, the things you said earlier I need explained.”
“I don’t believe in monogamy. When you are a person that lives for a long time, it’s a bit of a non thing. That all being said, I don’t go out of my way to have one night stands if I’m in a relationship. Not that I’m saying you and I are in one but I’m not just leaving your side to go to a bar.”
“What does it mean when you are in a relationship?”
He laughed a little. “Haven't been in one for a long time and when I was in it, I was a piece of fucking shit to my partner. But, my moral standpoint on that? If I love someone? One-night stands are out. If I want to be with another person for whatever reason, it's not happening behind anyone's back. It’s not happening without discussion. And I’m never using sex as a way to hurt someone. Now, given that I’ve never actually put that in practice, I’m not sure how that actually is going to work. But, there it is.”
I thought about that for a minute.
[[I didn’t think this would work]]
[[It didn’t change how I felt]]
[[I was fine with it as long as I was treated the same]]
“I don’t think this is actually going to work,” I told him. I wanted more than what he was offering. I wanted someone that was dedicated to me and me alone. And while I could see the hurt in Milo’s eyes, he didn’t get upset. He didn’t even seem that surprised.
“I really hope you find someone that can give you what you want, $name,” he told me. “Really, I do. I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person.”
It bothered me, in the end. That he couldn’t. That he looked hurt and yet wasn’t willing to change. Then again, I supposed asking someone to change after only knowing them for such a short while was a bit of a stretch. Milo and I had only been in each other's lives for less than it took the moon to renew itself. To think he would change something fundamental about himself after so little time was selfish of me to even ask.
“Come on,” he said, hoisting himself up out of the seat. “Let's get some food to go and get back to Hazel’s. This is going to be awkward as fuck if you and I stay out together.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay.”
“Hey.” Stepping forward, he placed a hand on my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, darlin’. You and I are going to have a great night back at the apothecary. And you know I’ll be around for days to come. This just didn’t work. There’s no shame in that. And honestly?” He laughed a little. A self-deprecating tune that cut through us both. “You are probably better off without me.”
When he turned to walk away, I watched him go. Pausing for just a moment to see him weave back into the market. I didn’t know if he was right. I didn’t even know if I was right. I simply wondered about what might have been and whether or not I was a fool for thinking anything could have come from us to begin with.
[[Chapter Five]]
<<set $relationship to "false">>
<<set $miloro to "false">>“It really doesn’t change how I feel,” I told him. “I’m new here, remember? You and I barely even know each other. But I do know that I want to find out more about you. That I think you are incredibly interesting and I want to see where this goes.”
“I– Good. I’m glad.”
There was something about his tone that spoke of so much more, though. “But?” I pressed when he didn’t volunteer the information.
He looked at me, shocked back to reality from whatever thoughts he had been lost in. “Sorry. I just didn’t expect it to go so easy.”
“Most people get mad at you for this?”
“Like I said. I don’t really have this conversation with others. Mainly because I don’t plan to sleep with them more than once to begin with.”
I stretched my own leg out on the bench, watching as it brushed against his thigh, pressed against him toe to hip. He looked down as if he was surprised at the action.
“Why do you look at me like that sometimes?”
“Like what?”
“Like you are surprised to see me sometimes.”
The laugh that escaped him was sharp and somewhat pained. He rubbed a hand down his face, wiping away any mirth that showed. “Ain’t that a question.” Hesitantly, his hand came down to rest on my knee. “Suppose it’s because I am sometimes.”
“Why?”
“I can safely say I’ve never been drawn to someone before. It’s all that bullshit stuff you hear about from young romantics who are caught up in the newness of it all. I used to laugh at that shit. And then you came along. And now I feel like I’m being laughed at.”
“Is this a good or a bad thing?”
“I really don’t know,” he said. “I do know that I like you around.” He sounded pained even saying it. “I’m serious, $name. I do. I just… I don’t know. I’m not good at these things.”
[[Just take it day by day. No rush]]
[[We can be bad at it together then]]
[[You’re doing good so far]]
“I’m not upset,” I told him. “I don’t know what I even want in life or a relationship. It’s all… new. But, what I do know, is I want to be treated the same. I do not want a double standard.”
“Absolutely not.” He almost looked appalled that I would suggest that. “No, darlin’, if I ever hold you to a different standard, hell, if //anyone// holds you to a different standard, you kick them hard and make them feel debased as an individual. Spit on them, too.”
I snorted in laughter. “I don’t think I should go that far.”
“I would.”
“No you wouldn’t.”
He smirked a little. “No. I wouldn’t. Not for that at least.”
I stretched my own leg out on the bench, watching as it brushed against his thigh, pressed against him toe to hip. He looked down as if he was surprised at the action.
“Why do you look at me like that sometimes?”
“Like what?”
“Like you are surprised to see me sometimes.”
The laugh that escaped him was sharp and somewhat pained. He rubbed a hand down his face, wiping away any mirth that showed. “Ain’t that a question.” Hesitantly, his hand came down to rest on my knee. “Suppose it’s because I am sometimes.”
“Why?”
“I can safely say I’ve never been drawn to someone before. It’s all that bullshit stuff you hear about from young romantics who are caught up in the newness of it all. I used to laugh at that shit. And then you came along. And now I feel like I’m being laughed at.”
“Is this a good or a bad thing?”
“I really don’t know,” he said. “I do know that I like you around.” He sounded pained even saying it. “I’m serious, $name. I do. I just… I don’t know. I’m not good at these things.”
[[Just take it day by day. No rush]]
[[We can be bad at it together then]]
[[You’re doing good so far]]
“Let’s just take this day by day, okay? No rush. No big expectations. We just see where this goes and try to have fun.” Part of what had attracted me to Milo was the fact that he was easy going. That he was filled with this sort of joy that shone bright in the dismal corners of the market streets. I didn’t want that light to go away.
He squeezed my knee, looking tiredly out at the market beyond. “I want to be more than I am,” he said.
“What do you want to be?”
There was a distance in his eyes as he stared outwards. “Not a bear.”
“What?”
“Bears are freaky,” he said with a shrug. “Roaming around. Just kind of lurking around corners.”
“There are bears lurking around the corners of the market?”
“I believe there is.”
I nudged him with my foot but he caught it, his smile back, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“I don't want to be maudlin. I came up here to do the adult thing and discuss boundaries. Now I say we either make out or go dancing.”
“No other options, huh?”
“Not with the way the bears are. They’ll rip our faces off for sure.” Pulling me near him, he held me tight to his body. “So what’s it going to be, darlin’? Make out session that will blow your mind or me sweeping you off your feet with my amazing dance skills?”
[[How about just dinner and a conversation]]
[[Both]]
“How about we just be bad at this together then?” I asked. It wasn’t like I knew what I was doing either. I was lucky to even remember my own name. Not that I actually thought I did. I was pretty sure that was just made up as well.
He squeezed my knee, looking tiredly out at the market beyond. “I want to be more than I am,” he said.
“What do you want to be?”
There was a distance in his eyes as he stared outwards. “Not a bear.”
“What?”
“Bears are freaky,” he said with a shrug. “Roaming around. Just kind of lurking around corners.”
“There are bears lurking around the corners of the market?”
“I believe there is.”
I nudged him with my foot but he caught it, his smile back, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“I don't want to be maudlin. I came up here to do the adult thing and discuss boundaries. Now I say we either make out or go dancing.”
“No other options, huh?”
“Not with the way the bears are. They’ll rip our faces off for sure.” Pulling me near him, he held me tight to his body. “So what’s it going to be, darlin’? Make out session that will blow your mind or me sweeping you off your feet with my amazing dance skills?”
[[How about just dinner and a conversation]]
[[Both]]
“I think you’re doing good so far,” I told him. “You’re being honest. You’re stating who you are. That’s all good qualities.”
He squeezed my knee, looking tiredly out at the market beyond. “I want to be more than I am,” he said.
“What do you want to be?”
There was a distance in his eyes as he stared outwards. “Not a bear.”
“What?”
“Bears are freaky,” he said with a shrug. “Roaming around. Just kind of lurking around corners.”
“There are bears lurking around the corners of the market?”
“I believe there is.”
I nudged him with my foot but he caught it, his smile back, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“I don't want to be maudlin. I came up here to do the adult thing and discuss boundaries. Now I say we either make out or go dancing.”
“No other options, huh?”
“Not with the way the bears are. They’ll rip our faces off for sure.” Pulling me near him, he held me tight to his body. “So what’s it going to be, darlin’? Make out session that will blow your mind or me sweeping you off your feet with my amazing dance skills?”
[[How about just dinner and a conversation]]
[[Both]]
I hummed a bit at that, taking in his very typical Milo-like response. “How about,” I suggested. “Dinner and good conversation.”
“As long as the dinner includes something fried and I’m allowed to check you out covertly at least once.”
“Done,” I laughed. I expected for the two of us to rise. Find a little place to go eat. Instead, Milo pulled something out from beneath the bench seat, pushing together four slotted panels that looked like puzzle pieces. “Food will be here soon,” he announced. I wasn’t even going to pretend like I knew what he did or how he did it.
Framed by the window, we sat with the warmth from the lanterns filtering into the small space we occupied. Milo was leaning back, looking far more relaxed, the bustle of the world continuing around us. This was how he was most at home though. An observer, looking in at life and watching how it all played out.
“C’mere,” he said lazily. Opening his legs, he tugged me until I settled between them, my back to his chest. One arm wrapped securely around me. “Look.” He pointed to a large strip of ice below where individuals were skating while others harvested large blocks to pile onto carts. With each block that was set aside, they shifted colors, responding to touch. Children ran up to them, tapping them and giggling just to see the rainbow hues.
I smiled a bit at the display of such simplicity below me.
“It reminds me at times that not everything in this world is doom and gloom,” he whispered against my shoulder. “Thought you might benefit from seeing it too.”
Whether I did or not didn’t matter. I simply just took his hand in mine and leaned further back into him. And around us, life continued to thrive.
[[Chapter Five]]“Why can’t it be both?” I asked him.
Fingers trailing along my cheek and rounding to the back of my skull, he tipped his head towards me, lips hovering. “This,” he said. “This is why I keep getting pulled back in. Damn you.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” I murmured, unapologetic.
Lips brushing against mine, he sighed against me, his heart thumping where it was pressed against my chest. I could feel that familiar tightening in my belly. Each time I kissed Milo felt like the first. Like there was something fated between us that neither of us could quite understand. Hand tangled at the base of my skull, he pulled me forward. When Milo kissed, he kissed with his whole body. Knees bending a little, front flush with my own, and eyes closed as if he were falling into a dream. And each time he pulled away, he held me a little longer than he should, hands warm and secure against my skin. It left me breathless each time and wondering how we had even got here.
“Come on,” he murmured against me, eyes still shut as he breathed me in. “Dancing,” he asserted. Though, his lips were back on mine against and my fingers were tangled in his hair. As the two of us fell against the bench, butted up against the window, the soft lights of the lanterns beyond glowed brightly, casting us in warmth. We stayed there, long after. Both of us becoming lost. Neither of us wanting time to move forward.
[[Chapter Five]]
I stepped foot in the Warden’s office, the morning still early. I had been summoned and under no uncertain circumstances was I able to deny that summons. Not without repercussions at least.
“Close the door behind you.”
The Warden was at his desk, head bent over a mountain of paperwork. His coat and sword hung up near the door. It felt like an oversight, really. So far away from his weapon. Though I supposed not many were brave enough to step into the Warden’s office and take the sword to run him through.
“It’s enchanted,” he told me, as if hearing my thoughts. When I looked at him, he hadn’t even raised his gaze from what he was focusing on. “Take a seat.”
Silently, I went and sat in the same chair I had been in upon first arriving. The rip had gotten deeper. Everything in the office looked shabby. For a Warden of the market, he didn’t seem to work in anything but a carved out hovel.
I stared at him across the desk as he continued to ignore me. The scratching of the quill was an irritating echo throughout the room. Down the hall I could hear cells opening and shutting, the shuffle of boots. I wondered when the next auction would be. Whether it happened weekly or only when they had enough prisoners to sell off.
[[Wait for him to direct me]]
[[Ask if I was brought here to just look pretty]]
[[Clear throat and interrupt him]]I waited. From what I could figure, if he wasn’t going to give me the time of day, I wasn’t going to go out of my way. This transaction between him and I was nothing more than an unfortunate side effect to how I was brought here and I didn’t really feel like being magnanimous and asking him how I could be of service. Due to this, it was several long minutes before he even acknowledged me again. I was trying to decide if he was taking extra time on his report, or if he really was a man that could get sucked into a task as such.
When he finally set aside his quill, he rolled up the piece of parchment and melted a wax seal across it. He placed it inside a deep box with other scrolls, leaned back, and looked at me.
“Do you have any skills?”
I wanted to laugh. Surely, this had to be a joke. “I have no memories. Why would I know if I have any skills?”
“Have you discovered any in the last few weeks?”
“I can hold a broom,” I deadpanned.
“I see. Well.” standing, he rounded the desk, going to a small metal cabinet off to the side. When he opened the top, I realized how much deeper it ran. From what I could spy, there was an accordion well, half of which he pulled out. Thin bits of paper were stacked on top of each other upon the thousands. Gabriel took out a stack that must have contained over four hundred sheets and placed them before me.
“These are requests made by members of the market. Unfulfilled ones.”
I did a double take at them. “Am I supposed to be fulfilling them?”
“Absolutely not. We are short-staffed here at the Guard and I simply need you to go through and mark the ones that are urgent with a red pen and the ones that are not urgent with a blue pen.”
“How do I know what is urgent?”
“They will say urgent across the top.”
A gold embossed lettering glimmered on some of the papers. “Then why would I need to mark it with a red pen?”
“Because it signals the dispatch crew to go and take care of it.”
“So magic.”
“A system,” he stated. He held out two pens, the end of which dotted with dripping ink. “When you are done with that I will have more.”
The monotony ahead of me was daunting. But, I refused to balk at something so simple. So, with my pens, I looked for the gold scrawl of urgency and dotted them. When I did, the ink bled into the parchment and the paper turned blank.
[[The silence in the office was soothing]]
[[The silence in the office was enough to drive me insane]]When he didn’t look up from his work, I felt a small sense of irritation grow. The least he could do was direct me to what exactly he wanted me to do during this bout of servitude. “Did you summon me just to look pretty?” I asked, my voice silky sweet.
“You are not my type,” he replied.
I snorted, crossing my arms and waiting. It was clear we were on his timetable. Not mine.
When he finally set aside his quill, he rolled up the piece of parchment and melted a wax seal across it. He placed it inside a deep box with other scrolls, leaned back, and looked at me.
“Do you have any skills?”
I wanted to laugh. Surely, this had to be a joke. “I have no memories. Why would I know if I have any skills?”
“Have you discovered any in the last few weeks?”
“I can hold a broom,” I deadpanned.
“I see. Well.” standing, he rounded the desk, going to a small metal cabinet off to the side. When he opened the top, I realized how much deeper it ran. From what I could spy, there was an accordion well, half of which he pulled out. Thin bits of paper were stacked on top of each other upon the thousands. Gabriel took out a stack that must have contained over four hundred sheets and placed them before me.
“These are requests made by members of the market. Unfulfilled ones.”
I did a double take at them. “Am I supposed to be fulfilling them?”
“Absolutely not. We are short-staffed here at the Guard and I simply need you to go through and mark the ones that are urgent with a red pen and the ones that are not urgent with a blue pen.”
“How do I know what is urgent?”
“They will say urgent across the top.”
A gold embossed lettering glimmered on some of the papers. “Then why would I need to mark it with a red pen?”
“Because it signals the dispatch crew to go and take care of it.”
“So magic.”
“A system,” he stated. He held out two pens, the end of which dotted with dripping ink. “When you are done with that I will have more.”
The monotony ahead of me was daunting. But, I refused to balk at something so simple. So, with my pens, I looked for the gold scrawl of urgency and dotted them. When I did, the ink bled into the parchment and the paper turned blank.
[[The silence in the office was soothing]]
[[The silence in the office was enough to drive me insane]]
<<set $notmytype to "true">>
When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything, I cleared my throat loudly. His hand jumped, the quill stuttering across the paper. Slowly, he lifted his gaze.
I looked back at him expectantly. “Is there something you wanted me to work on?” I couldn’t work off my bail if I was just sitting here. I doubted the Warden was going to pay by the hour.
“I’ll educate you when I’m done,” he told me. He held my gaze for another long moment before turning back to his paperwork. I swore he made sure to take extra time after that, making sure to dot his i’s with a pointed tap.
When he finally set aside his quill, he rolled up the piece of parchment and melted a wax seal across it. He placed it inside a deep box with other scrolls, leaned back, and looked at me.
“Do you have any skills?”
I wanted to laugh. Surely, this had to be a joke. “I have no memories. Why would I know if I have any skills?”
“Have you discovered any in the last few weeks?”
“I can hold a broom,” I deadpanned.
“I see. Well.” standing, he rounded the desk, going to a small metal cabinet off to the side. When he opened the top, I realized how much deeper it ran. From what I could spy, there was an accordion well, half of which he pulled out. Thin bits of paper were stacked on top of each other upon the thousands. Gabriel took out a stack that must have contained over four hundred sheets and placed them before me.
“These are requests made by members of the market. Unfulfilled ones.”
I did a double take at them. “Am I supposed to be fulfilling them?”
“Absolutely not. We are short-staffed here at the Guard and I simply need you to go through and mark the ones that are urgent with a red pen and the ones that are not urgent with a blue pen.”
“How do I know what is urgent?”
“They will say urgent across the top.”
A gold embossed lettering glimmered on some of the papers. “Then why would I need to mark it with a red pen?”
“Because it signals the dispatch crew to go and take care of it.”
“So magic.”
“A system,” he stated. He held out two pens, the end of which dotted with dripping ink. “When you are done with that I will have more.”
The monotony ahead of me was daunting. But, I refused to balk at something so simple. So, with my pens, I looked for the gold scrawl of urgency and dotted them. When I did, the ink bled into the parchment and the paper turned blank.
[[The silence in the office was soothing]]
[[The silence in the office was enough to drive me insane]]The silence in the office was oddly soothing. Far more than I thought it would be considering my irritation upon entering. But there was peace within the mundane, I was finding. No expectations other than to dot a paper and set it aside. The work I was doing didn’t feel important by any means, but I didn’t have to think. My mind could actually rest as the rest of the world began to bleed away.
It was an odd bit of quiet that I hadn’t realized I wanted until now.
The door opened without a knock, a lieutenant walking in, arms clasped behind his back.
“Report,” Gabriel intoned.
The lieutenant’s eyes strayed down towards me as if questioning whether I should be listening. When the Warden continued to look at him expectantly, he snapped to attention.
“The exile went according to plan,” he said. “We took them an extra few miles out before leaving them due to the terrain allowing it. The horses have returned to the stables. There was a tear in one of their hooves that will have to be mended. Sartin waited seven clicks of the lanterns and he did not see them return.”
“Was there large predators nearby?” The Warden asked.
“Not that we know of.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Gibson.”
The lieutenant shifted on his feet, looking a bit nervous. “It’s Lieutenant Fry, sir. Gibson retired last year.”
“Aw, yes. Thank you. You are dismissed.” It was doubtful he had even listened. Not that there was much this poor lieutenant could do. As he stared at his boss, receiving nothing more, he nodded his head in some form of salute.
The door shut behind Lieutenant Fry, locking us in silence again.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“Nothing that concerns you.”
[[Sorry, I’m just trying to learn the ways of the market]]
[[Just trying to make conversation]]
[[Take your reports in private then]]I was halfway through punching ink onto the papers when I couldn’t take it any longer. I needed some sort of conversation. The silence within the office was enough to drive me insane. “How long am I working for you today?”
“Until you are done.”
“With this stack or the stack that is in that cabinet?”
“The stack in the cabinet is never ending and I would like to go home tonight.”
The scratch of the quill continued again and the Warden kept his head bent, focus intent on his work. “Do you just sit in this silence all day?”
“I find silence to be soothing. Especially after a harder day.”
It was deafening. There was some sort of dampener that was upon the room. The longer I was in it, the more the outside world began to bleed away. “So is this what you do? Day in and day out. Go out there, patrol, come back here and do paper work?”
“It is my job.”
The door opened without a knock, a lieutenant walking in, arms clasped behind his back.
“Report,” Gabriel intoned.
The lieutenant’s eyes strayed down towards me as if questioning whether I should be listening. When the Warden continued to look at him expectantly, he snapped to attention.
“The exile went according to plan,” he said. “We took them an extra few miles out before leaving them due to the terrain allowing it. The horses have returned to the stables. There was a tear in one of their hooves that will have to be mended. Sartin waited seven clicks of the lanterns and he did not see them return.”
“Was there large predators nearby?” The Warden asked.
“Not that we know of.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Gibson.”
The lieutenant shifted on his feet, looking a bit nervous. “It’s Lieutenant Fry, sir. Gibson retired last year.”
“Aw, yes. Thank you. You are dismissed.” It was doubtful he had even listened. Not that there was much this poor lieutenant could do. As he stared at his boss, receiving nothing more, he nodded his head in some form of salute.
The door shut behind Lieutenant Fry, locking us in silence again.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“Nothing that concerns you.”
[[Sorry, I’m just trying to learn the ways of the market]]
[[Just trying to make conversation]]
[[Take your reports in private then]]I should have expected the answer really. I wondered when I would learn not to ask them. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m just trying to learn the ways of the market.”
There was a sigh that escaped Gabriel but I had a feeling his irritation was far more with himself than with me. A nice change of pace, in the end. Setting aside his quill, he folded his hands in front of him, observing me from across the desk.
“The Outlands are where the exiles of the market go. Individuals undeserving of living within our realm. We escort them to the Outlands with a small bit of supplies and send them on their way. Their papers are revoked and it is with an understanding that if they enter into the market again, they will go directly to the flesh pits. Lieutenant Gibson had just escorted four of them out of the market.”
“Fry,” I corrected. Gabriel didn’t look like he cared.
[[What does someone have to do to be exiled?]]
[[Why give them supplies?]]
[[Are there communities in the Outlands that they are traveling to?]]“Just trying to make conversation,” I said sullenly. Why I was trying to make conversation with him was beyond me. Maybe there was an unconscious desire for a connection. To understand why he did what he did. Or maybe I actually just wanted to fill the silence. In the end, I settled on the fact that I thought I might be a more curious soul, collecting information when I could.
When Gabriel set aside his quill, it was with a bit of surprise. Folding his hands in front of him, he observed me from across the desk.
“The Outlands are where the exiles of the market go. Individuals undeserving of living within our realm. We escort them to the Outlands with a small bit of supplies and send them on their way. Their papers are revoked and it is with an understanding that if they enter into the market again, they will go directly to the flesh pits. Lieutenant Gibson had just escorted four of them out of the market.”
“Fry,” I corrected. Gabriel didn’t look like he cared.
[[What does someone have to do to be exiled?]]
[[Why give them supplies?]]
[[Are there communities in the Outlands that they are traveling to?]]“If you don’t want me asking questions you should probably take your reports in private.” They had ignored me. Like I was some discarded plant in a corner.
Gabriel’s lips thinned but I wasn’t sure how he was supposed to refuse that. The lieutenant had even tried to give him an out but he hadn’t even acknowledged my existence.
“The Outlands are where the exiles of the market go. Individuals undeserving of living within our realm. We escort them to the Outlands with a small bit of supplies and send them on their way. Their papers are revoked and it is with an understanding that if they enter into the market again, they will go directly to the flesh pits. Lieutenant Gibson had just escorted four of them out of the market.”
“Fry,” I corrected. Gabriel didn’t look like he cared.
[[What does someone have to do to be exiled?]]
[[Why give them supplies?]]
[[Are there communities in the Outlands that they are traveling to?]]“What exactly does someone have to do to be exiled?” I asked him. If being combative wound me up on the path of the flesh traders, what was done to be tossed out into the dark of the market. And which course was the better path?
“Running out on your bail,” he said. “There is no second chance after that. If someone does not complete their bail, they are not allowed within these walls again.”
“That’s a bit harsh considering how the likelihood of people escaping from their bail are most likely doing so for a good reason.”
“Because you know everyone in the market?” he countered.
“No. I just know what I observe. And anyone who buys the forced service of another individual has dubious morals at best.” I gave him a pointed look but it rolled right off the pressed shoulders of his blue uniform.
He sighed. Looking weary for the first time. “Sometimes individuals are just not the correct fit for the Night Market. It is either exile or the flesh pits, however.”
“I didn’t get that choice.”
“At the time I was far more concerned you were a threat that we could not handle.”
“And now?”
“I remain unsure.”
[[Do you purposefully not learn the names of your lieutenants?]]
[[You mentioned horses but I haven’t seen animals here]]
[[Has anyone ever returned from the Outlands?]]
“Why give them supplies?” I asked. “Exiles are exiles. Doesn’t that typically mean you are washing your hands of them.”
“We may be washing our hands of them but that does not mean we wish for a harsh journey. Or for their death.”
“You are sending them out into the dark,” I protested. “It very much seems like that’s exactly what you mean.”
He sighed. Looking weary for the first time. “Sometimes individuals are just not the correct fit for the Night Market. It is either exile or the flesh pits, however.”
“I didn’t get that choice.”
“At the time I was far more concerned you were a threat that we could not handle.”
“And now?”
“I remain unsure.”
[[Do you purposefully not learn the names of your lieutenants?]]
[[You mentioned horses but I haven’t seen animals here]]
[[Has anyone ever returned from the Outlands?]]
“How common practice is this?” I had visions of people being escorted out in droves to the dark swaths of land where they were forced to scramble through the dark.
“Common enough for us to have a protocol for it,” he said. “We probably escort five or six individuals out every new moon.”
“So are there villages they might be able to stumble across or is it just a game of how far they can actually make it?”
He bristled a bit at that. “We are not in the habit of playing games. Their exile is simply to get them away from our lights. I do hope that it is not as dire as you make it out to be.”
“What is your hope?” The answer he would give felt far more important than what my tone inflected. How merciless was Gabriel Caine.
“I do hope that they find someone out there. That the safe shelter they land upon is adequate and that they can start a new life. Have a second chance.”
“Just not here.”
He sighed. Looking weary for the first time. “Sometimes individuals are just not the correct fit for the Night Market. It is either exile or the flesh pits, however.”
“I didn’t get that choice.”
“At the time I was far more concerned you were a threat that we could not handle.”
“And now?”
“I remain unsure.”
[[Do you purposefully not learn the names of your lieutenants?]]
[[You mentioned horses but I haven’t seen animals here]]
[[Has anyone ever returned from the Outlands?]]
Sitting back in my seat, I thought of the man that had come in here. The nerves he had exuded by having a conversation with the Warden and how Gabriel had barely looked at him. “Do you purposefully not learn the names of your lieutenants?”
“Why would I do that?”
I shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe it’s a power thing. Maybe you’re just incredibly forgetful.”
“That is a terrible way to run any sort of efficient team,” he chided.
“So is forgetting their names so easily.”
He seemed to bristle at the accusation. As if it were far worse than I was actually making it. “I have an abundance of tasks to perform within the Night Market. There are certain things that I do forget but if they are only names then I do not see the value in beating myself up over such a thing.”
“Yet, when I didn’t immediately provide my name, you made a bit deal about it.”
“That was different. Anyone can see that.”
“Uh huh.” I didn’t bother to argue further. There were just some people in life who were not going to see reason, not matter how much logic was laid at their feet.
Near us, there was a small spark. It crackled against a glass orb that sat in the corner of his desk. Gabriel’s eyes ticked towards it as he immediately rose, going to both his sword and cloak. “You are free to go for the rest of the day. I will summon you when I have need of your assistance again.”
I looked down at the unfinished papers, feeling slightly off kilter for the quick dismissal. I rose though, not wanting to press my luck and get locked in this office for who knew how long.
“Where are you wishing to go for the rest of the day?” he asked.
[[I don’t need to answer you]]
[[Head back to Hazel’s|Hazel Interlude]]
<<if $chapterfour == "ruins">>[[Head to the ruins]]<<elseif $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Head to the tear]]<</if>>
“How come I don’t see animals that often? You mentioned horses but I barely even see birds.”
“Animals struggle to survive in the Night Market,” he said with a frown. “Many have come in through open gates but not many survive. There is a lack of ecosystems for them, I suspect. Most of our animals come from paper and are tinted with magic to allow them to roam the realm.”
“Magic,” I said. “The very thing that isn’t supposed to exist.”
“It can exist,” he said. “It just must be regulated. Most paper animals are regulated.”
I thought about Mr. Billows. If he was actually made of paper. If any of the creatures I had seen were folded little bits of pulp that were molded into animals for our enjoyment. It all felt a bit odd. Then again, I didn’t see a lot of districts filled with vegetation. Their survival was probably not well-supported here.
Near us, there was a small spark. It crackled against a glass orb that sat in the corner of his desk. Gabriel’s eyes ticked towards it as he immediately rose, going to both his sword and cloak. “You are free to go for the rest of the day. I will summon you when I have need of your assistance again.”
I looked down at the unfinished papers, feeling slightly off kilter for the quick dismissal. I rose though, not wanting to press my luck and get locked in this office for who knew how long.
“Where are you wishing to go for the rest of the day?” he asked.
[[I don’t need to answer you]]
[[Head back to Hazel’s|Hazel Interlude]]
<<if $chapterfour == "ruins">>[[Head to the ruins]]<<elseif $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Head to the tear]]<</if>>
“Has anyone ever returned from the Outlands?”
“I have.”
My eyes snapped to him. He said it so nonchalantly that I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“I was not exiled. This was before I was a Warden. I had to go there for far separate reasons. I went undercover outside the market walls and fortuitously found my way back due to the Night Market’s intervention.”
“What do you mean?” It was not the first time I had heard someone speak of the Night Market as if they were a sentient being.
“Exactly as it sounds. I believe that the Night Market intervened during a moment that was quite dangerous and opened a chasm beneath me and my companion, washing us back to the beaches of the lantern portion of the market.”
“And did you see communities out there?”
“Extensive ones.”
“But most people of the market think that there is only death out there? That no one exists?”
“There are large predators out there. Beasts that we do not understand. It is only logical to think that most of them die upon exiting the market. But if they can make it far enough, then there is possibly a society they could find solace in.”
Near us, there was a small spark. It crackled against a glass orb that sat in the corner of his desk. Gabriel’s eyes ticked towards it as he immediately rose, going to both his sword and cloak. “You are free to go for the rest of the day. I will summon you when I have need of your assistance again.”
I looked down at the unfinished papers, feeling slightly off kilter for the quick dismissal. I rose though, not wanting to press my luck and get locked in this office for who knew how long.
“Where are you wishing to go for the rest of the day?” he asked.
[[I don’t need to answer you]]
[[Head back to Hazel’s|Hazel Interlude]]
<<if $chapterfour == "ruins">>[[Head to the ruins]]<<elseif $chapterfour == "gates">>[[Head to the tear]]<</if>>
“Job is done for the day?” I asked, just to clarify.
“It is.”
“Then I don’t actually have to answer to you,” I told him. The less this guy knew about my life and my whereabouts, the better. There was a certain amount of control he could have over my life but I wanted to gain as much control as I could. Especially if it meant I could wrestle it from him.
“May I remind you of a few things?” he asked, standing as well. “The Night Market is not your playground. Despite you getting to walk free occasionally, it does not mean that you are not being watched. You are a reflection of this Guard and as such, you should be acting appropriately.”
“A reflection of the Guard? I was not hired.”
“In a way you were.”
“No,” I said firmly. “In several ways, I was not. Now.” Heading towards the door, I didn’t look over my shoulder. “I’ll be back around when you do your summons thing again but here’s to hoping it will be a while.”
“I expect you back here tomorrow.”
I let my head tip back in a groan, but did not answer him. Unless a summons came to Hazel’s door, I didn’t need to do anything he asked. I could just feign ignorant and pretend like I didn’t hear him.
I found Hazel in the small kitchenette, pots bubbling and circling her head while spoons tapped against the walls in a mimicry of song. On the windowsill, dough was rising, the wisps dressing it with sprigs of thyme and lavender. Hazel swayed in the middle of it all, her skirts brushing the floor, painting flour sigils on the chipped tile.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>We had come home from the ruins last night, hand in hand. Milo had spotted the change immediately and ran from the affection as soon as he could. But of course not before kissing Hazel’s cheek and giving me an indiscernible look. I was almost certain there would be a brotherly talking to later.
When we arrived back at the apothecary, the two of us had sat up together, drinking tea and munching on scones. Hazel looked pretty backlit by the light of the wisps. When I had opened my arms for her towards the end of the night, she had scrambled forward, burrowing herself against my side. I felt my body melt as I held onto this woman, my fingers tracing the patches of her skirt, her own walking up and down my arms. When the night had grown cold I had been reluctant to pull away. But the kiss and promise of tomorrow she had given me left a smile on my lips.<</if>>
“Good morning.”
Hazel jumped, the pots quickly returning to the stove and little hot plates, shuttering as they settled. She turned towards me, flour on her cheeks, her eyes wide. “Good morning, $name,” she breathed.
[[You don’t have to hide that you can do magic]]
[[What are you baking?]]
[[Sorry if I scared you]]
“I was going to head back to the ruins I visited with Milo and Hazel the other day. There was a woman there. Basalt. And she seemed to have some insight on who I may be or where I came from.”
Gabriel frowned. “Interesting. Do you believe her to be from the same world as you?”
“No. I don’t get that impression. She’s some sort of seer. I think she can read you after speaking with you.”
There was a brief hum of concern in Gabriel’s voice but he was not stopping me from continuing. “Just be careful, $name. I do not doubt that this Basalt may be a seer but at the same time, they might be offering you visions that you do not wish to see.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said slowly. While the visions may not have the answers I wanted, they offered me far more information than I had now. I didn’t know how I could turn my back on that. With a raise of my hand, I bid Gabriel goodbye, letting the door shut behind me.
The ruins were past the three tiered fountain, down an alley not far from Hazel’s. I vaguely remembered the way and was almost certain that if Krin was working, I’d be able to at the very least talk to them in order to go check on Basalt. I only wished I had something to bring the refugees at the same time. I didn’t like going down there empty handed.
Milo stopped this, however. As I was turning down another alley he appeared on the other side, ambling down towards me with a tip of his head. “Come on. Time to get to Hazel’s.”
I frowned. “I was going to–”
“I can hazard a guess on what you were going to do,” he said. “But I just came from there and I have news.” Turning to me, he winced a little. “Sorry. I know I sound like an ass. Just a bit… pissed? Frusterated? Not sure, actually. Might need to examine these feelings a bit more. But, I know I’m not going to have you waste your time.”
“What is going on?”
He looked at me tiredly. “I’ll explain it when we get to the apothecary. Better to just get it all out at once.”
We walked the rest of the way in a hurry, speeding through the alleys at a clip. When we arrived at the apothecary, I felt out of breath. Milo, however acted as if he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Given how much it was rumored he ran around the market, I supposed he was quite used to this.
Pushing open the door, Milo called for Hazel. She was behind the counter, counting out stacks of dragon eye stones but looked up at our entrance. Milo glided across the room in a mockery of dance before hopping up on the counter by her side. “So,” he began. “The refugees are adjusting just fine. Krin says that this batch seems nomadic so she doesn’t think they are going to have as many problems as the others. Also, there are some talks of groups venturing into the ruins again and trying to settle.”
I thought of the abandoned buildings I had seen on the horizon. The ones that looked as if they were backlit by a setting sun.
Taking the sweet jar from him, Hazel reached behind the counter, tossing him an apple instead. “Did Krin tell them that we don’t know if the others have made it? We don’t know what’s even out there.”
“She did.”
“And they’re still going?” There was a tightness to Hazel’s voice.
Holding up his hands, Milo chewed on his apple. “Don’t shoot the messenger,” he told her. “Besides, from what I can gather, they look like they are playing it smart. Small scouting trips. Lots of supplies. People that are able to fight if need be. Magic users that we are going to pretend aren’t magic users. It’s a solid plan.”
“You’ve always had an obsession with the ruins,” Hazel muttered.
“And you’ve always hated them.” Milo bit into the apple, munching on it happily. “But,” and he looked at me with his next words. “Might not be the right time to go bother them. They might be leaving rather soon, in fact.”
[[When are they planning on doing this?]]
[[What’s wrong with the ruins?]]
[[I want to go back down there and speak to Basalt]]“Actually, I was going to head back to the tear. See if I can recreate that moment and get in contact with that man again.”
Gabriel was on his feet and moving towards me instantly, making sure to block my path to the door. I nearly stumbled backwards. “You absolutely will not be,” he said firmly.
“That is one of the only places where we have gotten even an inkling of who I am. Yes, I will.”
“By order of the guard, I forbid it,” he said. “That place holds secrets we do not understand and the last thing we need right now is for you to be sucked back into that tear with no knowledge of how to get back out.”
“I am not just going to sit back and pretend it does not exist.”
“I would advise that you do.”
There were a few options I had at my feet. I could argue with him and in the end, not get what I want. Or, I could agree with him, walk out the door, and still go to the tear anyway. The latter of the options felt far more the route that I needed to be taking.
Sighing, I rubbed a hand across my face. “No, you’re right,” I said through gritted teeth. “If you find out that it’s safe, however, I would like to return.”
The softening of his expression surprised me. I didn’t think he would care. “Of course,” he said. “I promise you that I do wish to find out where you are from and who you are. And you are right. That is a lead. I just do not believe you should be going there alone. But, perhaps I could make the time later.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’d be great. Thank you.”
When I slipped out the door and back into the market I could only think I one thing. Gabriel Caine was awfully gullible for being the Warden of the Night Market.
[[Next|Interlude tear]]“I was just going to head back to Hazel’s. See if she needs help or what she is up to for the day.”
“That sounds as if it is the wisest decision. You must remember that the market, while friendly, is still foreign to you. We would not want you wandering and getting into more trouble.”
I looked at him tiredly. I was almost certain that it was said with the best intentions but at the same time, there was something slightly off feeling about it all. I was too exhausted to dismantle it though and instead just raised a hand in way of saying goodbye, before heading out the door.
I made quick haste back to the apothecary, feeling tired from my early rise to go work at the prison. The further away I got from it, the more tired I felt. As if I had been holding myself together the entire time and now the stress of the day was melting away.
I found Hazel in the small kitchenette, pots bubbling and circling her head while spoons tapped against the walls in a mimicry of song. On the windowsill, dough was rising, the wisps dressing it with sprigs of thyme and lavender. Hazel swayed in the middle of it all, her skirts brushing the floor, painting flour sigils on the chipped tile.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>We had come home from the ruins last night, hand in hand. Milo had spotted the change immediately and ran from the affection as soon as he could. But of course not before kissing Hazel’s cheek and giving me an indiscernible look. I was almost certain there would be a brotherly talking to later.
When we arrived back at the apothecary, the two of us had sat up together, drinking tea and munching on scones. Hazel looked pretty backlit by the light of the wisps. When I had opened my arms for her towards the end of the night, she had scrambled forward, burrowing herself against my side. I felt my body melt as I held onto this woman, my fingers tracing the patches of her skirt, her own walking up and down my arms. When the night had grown cold I had been reluctant to pull away. But the kiss and promise of tomorrow she had given me left a smile on my lips.<</if>>
“Good morning.”
Hazel jumped, the pots quickly returning to the stove and little hot plates, shuttering as they settled. She turned towards me, flour on her cheeks, her eyes wide. “Good morning, $name,” she breathed.
[[You don’t have to hide that you can do magic]]
[[What are you baking?]]
[[Sorry if I scared you]]
The quiet that settled around the market was eerie. I noticed it one morning as I gathered wood for the fire. The wind that rustled the leaves of the garden was absent, leaving a stillness that edged on the side of terse disquiet. Each clack of the wood I stacked in the sling creaked through the air, sending the gate shuddering. And even the wisps were still. Looking out from the tree in observation. I eyed them cautiously as I went back inside, giving them one last look before I shut the door to the apothecary slipping inside the equally quiet shop.
Hazel was at the counter, filling small bags with a pink herb that dissolved into mist. I set the wood gathered down by the fire, pausing for a second to warm my hands. “Does the world seem off to you?” I asked.
She glanced up at me with a small frown. “How so?”
“I don’t know. It feels different. Like something significant has changed.” There was a possibility that it was just me. That something within myself had changed for me to look at the world in a different light.
The stained-glass window that Hazel kept eyeing offered no answers, but I could see the way Hazel’s movement’s slowed, as if she too was looking for the change at hand. “The market gets like this sometimes. I used to play a game, when I was little. Assign emotion to the world. This would have been one of the more apprehensive days.”
“The market has anxiety?”
Hazel smirked a little. “From time to time.”
“How long does it usually last?” I wasn’t sure I really liked the feeling that filtered through the air. It tasted bitter. Like overripe lemons dipped in salt.
“I’ve never really noticed before,” she said. “A lot of the time I just look up and things are different. I’ve gotten used to that form of change, I suppose.” Setting aside her orders, she looked at me curiously. “It’s bothering you?”
[[A little|Interlude 2 a little]]
[[No, just something I’ve observed]]
[[It feels like an itch under my skin]]
“A little,” I told her, shifting from foot to foot. There was no reason it should be affecting me. Nothing physically in the world had changed that would incite such a response. But I could feel it. A nagging sense of worry that was at the back of my skull, tugging at my spine.
“We should do something.” The shuffle of supplies being pushed under the counter felt far too loud. Hazel was tossing a few jars and a couple sachets beneath the counter while piling the filled orders into the done box at her side. “Maybe we’re getting too caught up. We should do something fun.”
“Aren’t we supposed to have a game night soon.”
“Yes, but sometimes, when the world gets like this, it requires something different to shake everything up.” Hands on her hips, she looked around. “I have a construct brewing. I could fortify it against water and we could go down to see the selkies. We did promise them a tea party, after all.”
I paused. Bardle and Kai. We had promised the two of them that we could come back and see them. The idea of going down to the Deep again was not incredibly appealing, but the selkies had done nothing wrong. They were guards of a world that they couldn’t quite be a part of, frolicking in white capped waves in the misty fog out on the horizon.
“You sure you’re okay with leaving again?” It was not like Hazel to step foot outside her gates often. I knew she occasionally used a construct to travel the world but it was at great cost to her. Most of the time it left her exhausted well into the next morning.
“I have my orders done,” she said in way of answer. “Besides, it's sometimes a bit easier to go out when I know I won’t be around a lot of people. Two selkie children are somehow far more appealing.”
“You really think they’re children?”
“They’re probably older than you or I combined,” she said with a laugh. “But age comes with experience and I think the only experience they are receiving out there is one of play.”
And carnage. I had seen the bones in the corner. They were the guardians to the world below for a reason.
“Alright,” I said slowly. “Let’s go have a tea party with the selkies.”
The smile that crossed her face made me feel as if this was the correct decision. Her shelf of teapots in the backroom was a clear indicator that Hazel may also just want to be that little girl, playing dress up and pouring tea.
[[Next|To Bardle and Kai]]
“Not really,” I said with a shrug. “It’s just something I observed.” There was an oddity to the world around me. I could see the change. Feel it through the pressure in the air. Maybe it should have worried me but in the end, it was just a strange observation but nothing more.
“We should do something.” The shuffle of supplies being pushed under the counter felt far too loud. Hazel was tossing a few jars and a couple sachets beneath the counter while piling the filled orders into the done box at her side. “Maybe we’re getting too caught up. We should do something fun.”
“Aren’t we supposed to have a game night soon.”
“Yes, but sometimes, when the world gets like this, it requires something different to shake everything up.” Hands on her hips, she looked around. “I have a construct brewing. I could fortify it against water and we could go down to see the selkies. We did promise them a tea party, after all.”
I paused. Bardle and Kai. We had promised the two of them that we could come back and see them. The idea of going down to the Deep again was not incredibly appealing, but the selkies had done nothing wrong. They were guards of a world that they couldn’t quite be a part of, frolicking in white capped waves in the misty fog out on the horizon.
“You sure you’re okay with leaving again?” It was not like Hazel to step foot outside her gates often. I knew she occasionally used a construct to travel the world but it was at great cost to her. Most of the time it left her exhausted well into the next morning.
“I have my orders done,” she said in way of answer. “Besides, it's sometimes a bit easier to go out when I know I won’t be around a lot of people. Two selkie children are somehow far more appealing.”
“You really think they’re children?”
“They’re probably older than you or I combined,” she said with a laugh. “But age comes with experience and I think the only experience they are receiving out there is one of play.”
And carnage. I had seen the bones in the corner. They were the guardians to the world below for a reason.
“Alright,” I said slowly. “Let’s go have a tea party with the selkies.”
The smile that crossed her face made me feel as if this was the correct decision. Her shelf of teapots in the backroom was a clear indicator that Hazel may also just want to be that little girl, playing dress up and pouring tea.
[[Next|To Bardle and Kai]]
“It feels a bit like an itch under my skin. There’s something uncomfortable about it all.” I hadn’t thought myself a person who would pick up the intricacies of whatever emotions were floating in the air. It was an odd thing to think about and even odder to experience. I didn’t want it to get to me though and derail my day. There was a new kind of sensation that had taken over as of late. One that pressured me to keep moving. To keep acting. To just try my hardest to keep living each day despite everything that was threatening to beat me down.
“We should do something.” The shuffle of supplies being pushed under the counter felt far too loud. Hazel was tossing a few jars and a couple sachets beneath the counter while piling the filled orders into the done box at her side. “Maybe we’re getting too caught up. We should do something fun.”
“Aren’t we supposed to have a game night soon.”
“Yes, but sometimes, when the world gets like this, it requires something different to shake everything up.” Hands on her hips, she looked around. “I have a construct brewing. I could fortify it against water and we could go down to see the selkies. We did promise them a tea party, after all.”
I paused. Bardle and Kai. We had promised the two of them that we could come back and see them. The idea of going down to the Deep again was not incredibly appealing, but the selkies had done nothing wrong. They were guards of a world that they couldn’t quite be a part of, frolicking in white capped waves in the misty fog out on the horizon.
“You sure you’re okay with leaving again?” It was not like Hazel to step foot outside her gates often. I knew she occasionally used a construct to travel the world but it was at great cost to her. Most of the time it left her exhausted well into the next morning.
“I have my orders done,” she said in way of answer. “Besides, it's sometimes a bit easier to go out when I know I won’t be around a lot of people. Two selkie children are somehow far more appealing.”
“You really think they’re children?”
“They’re probably older than you or I combined,” she said with a laugh. “But age comes with experience and I think the only experience they are receiving out there is one of play.”
And carnage. I had seen the bones in the corner. They were the guardians to the world below for a reason.
“Alright,” I said slowly. “Let’s go have a tea party with the selkies.”
The smile that crossed her face made me feel as if this was the correct decision. Her shelf of teapots in the backroom was a clear indicator that Hazel may also just want to be that little girl, playing dress up and pouring tea.
[[Next|To Bardle and Kai]]
The fog was not as bad as it had been when we had first come here. It was thinner now. Less like the soup like consistency that felt heavy against our lungs. I could see the cave that loomed in the distance. A rock where birds perched, knocked back by the wind.
“What’s out there?” I asked curiously. A construct stood by my side. They were a dead ringer for Hazel, piloted by the witch back at the apothecary. Unless I had seen her actually do this, I wouldn’t have known this body was made from twigs and stuffed with herbs.
“In the ocean?” she asked. “I’m not sure if anyone knows. There are ships that sail the seas. A few think that this world just bleeds into one big gate out there. But as far as exploration goes, we market goers don’t seem to take a lot of interest in it.”
“Why not?” It felt like an odd thing really. To have an ever expanding world and no desire to see where it ended.
“Maybe we just don’t want to know what’s out there.” Her voice was distant, her eyes unfocused. Not for the first time did I wonder what all Hazel’s powers pertained.
Her head twitched as she turned to me with a smile. “Shall we?”
The path out there was the same as before. A long dock that dead ended into the ocean but continued on with trust alone. The water was far calmer than it had been before and I could see part way down. The angler fish and the beasts that I knew lurked far below could not be seen. Instead, beautiful shelves made of kelp and chipped shells sat placidly below.
“Friend.”
I looked around, searching for the voice that filtered through on the wind. Hazel had heard it too, holding her picnic basket a little closer as she also searched for the voice.
[[Call out for the voice]]
[[Wait for the voice to approach]]
[[Ask Hazel what she wants to do]]
<<set $teawithselkies to "true">>I froze, looking out at the white caps and the murky depths of the ocean. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Keeping Hazel close, I clutched her hand in mine, ready to pull her from the clutches of anything that tried to take her from my side.<</if>> Shadows loomed beneath the waves, darting in and out of sight and under the bridge we walked on. Splashing echoed from somewhere over the horizon as a siren's song called out to the ghostly outline of a ship at sea.
“Bardle? Kai?” I called out for the selkies, looking to find them somewhere within the ocean. Shadows dove beneath the bridge we were on, while tails whipped up to splash more brine at our feet. “We came back to play,” I said.
Two heads popped up from beneath the waves, barking in glee. Next to me, Hazel giggled, tugging me to continue inside to the cave.
“They are just the cutest little things,” she said. “I know they can bite our face off but they just have such pretty eyes.”
Not that I was excited about her face biting comment but it did amuse me that Hazel said it so readily. The life she had led was far different from the one I had. Or the one I thought I had.
Stepping inside the cave, I spied the stairs down to the Deep. They glistened with crushed shells and salt but the corridor was dark. Behind us, the telling smack of fins sounded as the selkies came up to greet us.
“We thought we would have a tea party,” Hazel said with a smile, holding up her basket.
The two of them dove back down into the watery depths without a word, leaving Hazel and I standing there with a damp basket. The salty spray had formed thick, opaque crystals on the walls and ceiling, dampening the sound of the roaring waves beyond.
“Do we just wait?” Hazel asked. “Or should I set up tea?”
“I really don’t know what to do in this situation,” I told her.
We didn’t have to wait for long as two wet plops sounded as twin selkies emerged from the water, flopping onto the wet rock. They wore hats with floppy rims, adorned with little trinkets they had found beneath the depths. While their smiles were jagged and revealed a set of crooked teeth, they bounded towards us happily, their hats bouncing along with them.
[[Why the hats?]]
[[Your hats are lovely]]
[[Now I feel underdressed]]I froze, looking out at the white caps and the murky depths of the ocean. <<if $hazelro == "true">> Keeping Hazel close, I clutched her hand in mine, ready to pull her from the clutches of anything that tried to take her from my side.<</if>> Shadows loomed beneath the waves, darting in and out of sight and under the bridge we walked on. Splashing echoed from somewhere over the horizon as a siren's song called out to the ghostly outline of a ship at sea.
“Friends,” the voice repeated. “Come inside, friends.”
Glancing at Hazel, I watched her nod. Though I noticed the hesitation and the desire to flee back to her home.
Walking the rest of the way across the bridge we stepped across to the opening of the cave. Candles flickered on the walls, beautiful shell conches coated in wax and lit in warm flame. Barks of greeting sounded from right behind us, sending us further into the cave. I could see the steps that led down to the Deep. They were wet and glistening with crushed shells.
Turning, we saw wet eyes peering back at us from the opening. In a strange version of a stand-off, they sat, their heads submerged beneath the water, blinking at us. After a moment where no one moved, they pushed their way inside, bounding to the center of the room.
“Are you here to play?” they asked in unison. “Play as friends?”
I nodded my head. “Yes. We promised.”
“We brought tea,” Hazel said, holding up the basket. “We thought we could have a tea party.”
The two of them dove back down into the watery depths without a word, leaving Hazel and I standing there with a damp basket. The salty spray had formed thick, opaque crystals on the walls and ceiling, dampening the sound of the roaring waves beyond.
“Do we just wait?” Hazel asked. “Or should I set up tea?”
“I really don’t know what to do in this situation,” I told her.
We didn’t have to wait for long as two wet plops sounded as twin selkies emerged from the water, flopping onto the wet rock. They wore hats with floppy rims, adorned with little trinkets they had found beneath the depths. While their smiles were jagged and revealed a set of crooked teeth, they bounded towards us happily, their hats bouncing along with them.
[[Why the hats?]]
[[Your hats are lovely]]
[[Now I feel underdressed]]“You know the creatures in this market better than me,” I whispered to Hazel. “Suggestions?”
“A toy,” Hazel said with a firm nod. “It will be a nice offering.”
“Did we bring any toys?”
“No. Just a lot of food and different colored teacups.”
I looked around, searching for something that could be considered a toy. The splashing in the water was getting closer and while I was less afraid than I had been before, I wasn’t entirely at ease either.
“Do you have a round teapot in your basket?”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “Yes.” Digging into the wicker depths, she grabbed out a circular teapot of the brightest pink. “Here.” She ran her fingers across the spout and the seams, sealing the openings with a bit of green tinged smoke. “So it will float better.”
Taking the item, I tossed it into the water, watching it bob. Almost instantly, a flipper came up, knocking it down. When it popped up on the other side of the invisible path, a tail came out to flick it back.
Hazel giggled next to my side as we continued towards the cave, the teapot sailing over our head as splashes and small barks surrounded us. When we finally stepped foot onto the rocky ledge, wet eyes peered up from the water, shining in amusement.
“You can keep it,” Hazel assured them.
It was as if they were waiting for that, not wanting to give up their treasure.
“We brought tea,” I told them. “As promised. You said you wished to have a tea party.”
The two of them dove back down into the watery depths without a word, leaving Hazel and I standing there with a damp basket. The salty spray had formed thick, opaque crystals on the walls and ceiling, dampening the sound of the roaring waves beyond.
“Do we just wait?” Hazel asked. “Or should I set up tea?”
“I really don’t know what to do in this situation,” I told her.
We didn’t have to wait for long as two wet plops sounded as twin selkies emerged from the water, flopping onto the wet rock. They wore hats with floppy rims, adorned with little trinkets they had found beneath the depths. While their smiles were jagged and revealed a set of crooked teeth, they bounded towards us happily, their hats bouncing along with them.
[[Why the hats?]]
[[Your hats are lovely]]
[[Now I feel underdressed]]I laughed a little. “Why the hats?”
Their eyes rolled up to the floppy hats with the wide brims and adornments. “You cannot have a tea party without a fancy hat,” Bardle said.
Kai bounced in place, fins slapping against the ground with a bang. “Fancy hats lost at the bottom of the sea.”
“You dove for those hats?” I asked.
They nodded. “Ship wrecks leave all sorts of interesting things.”
I suddenly really wanted to know the others things they found deep in the ocean and what kind of horde they were keeping.
Hazel was taking out the tea, setting everything up on a raised piece of stone in the middle of the room. “I didn’t know what you two enjoyed so I brought a bit of everything.” Several teapots with various florals and animal patterns adorned the pots. Mismatched cups encircled them and somehow, from the depths of the wicker basket, Hazel was pulling out large plates of cucumber sandwiches and raw bits of fish. Kai licked their lips.
“Do you take one lump of sugar or two?” I asked, preparing the two creatures a cup of tea. I had no idea how they were supposed to hold it but they were sitting back, clapping their flippers excitedly.
“Eight,” Kai responded.
“Three and a half,” said Bardle.
And really, who was I to pass judgement on such requests.
Tea was placed all around the table and I tried not to show a strong reaction to the humanoid hands that slipped from beneath the flippers to grab the cups.
“A lovely vintage, ma’am witch,” Kai was saying.
“Wonderful brew. Nutty and fishy all at once.”
Hazel snorted into her own cup of tea. I knew the description didn’t match her tea whatsoever, but she was willing to play along.
“I got it from the depths of the Apollonian nests. The berries were stolen from a deer bird with a crown of laurels.”
“Here here!” Bardle said loudly, his voice echoing in a way that sounded both deep and childlike all at once.
Kai turned to me, nostrils flaring. “Do you prefer your tea to have a full-bodied bone depth or a curious nature of whimsy?”
[[A curious nature of whimsy]]
[[A full-bodied bone depth]]
[[A manic state of char]]
[[What are we even talking about?]]“Your hats are lovely,” I told them. Small bits of the ocean floor clung to them, jewels dripping from the sides of the hat while live anemones breathed against the sodden fabric.
“Thank you,” they both crooned, turning their heads left and right so Hazel and I could get a better look. “We have several.”
Hazel was taking out the tea, setting everything up on a raised piece of stone in the middle of the room. “I didn’t know what you two enjoyed so I brought a bit of everything.” Several teapots with various florals and animal patterns adorned the pots. Mismatched cups encircled them and somehow, from the depths of the wicker basket, Hazel was pulling out large plates of cucumber sandwiches and raw bits of fish. Kai licked their lips.
“Do you take one lump of sugar or two?” I asked, preparing the two creatures a cup of tea. I had no idea how they were supposed to hold it but they were sitting back, clapping their flippers excitedly.
“Eight,” Kai responded.
“Three and a half,” said Bardle.
And really, who was I to pass judgement on such requests.
Tea was placed all around the table and I tried not to show a strong reaction to the humanoid hands that slipped from beneath the flippers to grab the cups.
“A lovely vintage, ma’am witch,” Kai was saying.
“Wonderful brew. Nutty and fishy all at once.”
Hazel snorted into her own cup of tea. I knew the description didn’t match her tea whatsoever, but she was willing to play along.
“I got it from the depths of the Apollonian nests. The berries were stolen from a deer bird with a crown of laurels.”
“Here here!” Bardle said loudly, his voice echoing in a way that sounded both deep and childlike all at once.
Kai turned to me, nostrils flaring. “Do you prefer your tea to have a full-bodied bone depth or a curious nature of whimsy?”
[[A curious nature of whimsy]]
[[A full-bodied bone depth]]
[[A manic state of char]]
[[What are we even talking about?]]I looked between Hazel and I. “Well, now I feel entirely underdressed.”
The bigger of the selkies, Bardle, tipped his head to the side. “We can find a hat for you. Many treasures in the Deep.”
I laughed a little. “Maybe next time?” They both seemed eager and pleased that there was already plans for another play date.
Hazel was taking out the tea, setting everything up on a raised piece of stone in the middle of the room. “I didn’t know what you two enjoyed so I brought a bit of everything.” Several teapots with various florals and animal patterns adorned the pots. Mismatched cups encircled them and somehow, from the depths of the wicker basket, Hazel was pulling out large plates of cucumber sandwiches and raw bits of fish. Kai licked their lips.
“Do you take one lump of sugar or two?” I asked, preparing the two creatures a cup of tea. I had no idea how they were supposed to hold it but they were sitting back, clapping their flippers excitedly.
“Eight,” Kai responded.
“Three and a half,” said Bardle.
And really, who was I to pass judgement on such requests.
Tea was placed all around the table and I tried not to show a strong reaction to the humanoid hands that slipped from beneath the flippers to grab the cups.
“A lovely vintage, ma’am witch,” Kai was saying.
“Wonderful brew. Nutty and fishy all at once.”
Hazel snorted into her own cup of tea. I knew the description didn’t match her tea whatsoever, but she was willing to play along.
“I got it from the depths of the Apollonian nests. The berries were stolen from a deer bird with a crown of laurels.”
“Here here!” Bardle said loudly, his voice echoing in a way that sounded both deep and childlike all at once.
Kai turned to me, nostrils flaring. “Do you prefer your tea to have a full-bodied bone depth or a curious nature of whimsy?”
[[A curious nature of whimsy]]
[[A full-bodied bone depth]]
[[A manic state of char]]
[[What are we even talking about?]]“A curious nature of whimsy,” I said, unsure but excited to see what it was they would come up with.
Kai clapped their hands together, the outline of small humanoid fingers etched beneath the smooth skin of the seal. Reaching out, they began to pour me a cup of tea. Pink, iridescent bubbles floating up from the teapot itself to pop near the ceilings cave and rain down on us in a spray of sweet smelling daisies.
Bardle produced a small rubber duck from a coiled pile of sea glass and popped it in his own cup so it floated against the rose colored liquid. “The weather is rather ducky, lately,” he said in his best posh voice. “I am excited to hear the squeaks of quacking thunder tonight.”
Hazel nodded her head in agreement. “And the clouds of spun kitten fur have been a nice addition to the market. Though the hairballs are getting out of hand.”
“Oh, I do agree,” Bardle said, rocking back and forth.
I sipped at my bubble tea, feeling the liquid tickle my nose. “Do not worry,” I said playfully. “Queen Kitty of Cream Tree High is conducting a coup with the clouds above to put an end to it all.”
Both Bardle and Kai looked at me in pure delight. Someone was playing with them. For the first time in a long time, someone was playing with them.
The tea party went like that. Nonsense being traded back and forth and laughter ringing through the room. By the end of our meal, my belly ached, and my face felt numb from amusement. Bardle and Kai were lively sorts with voices that ranged from squeaky to deep to softly feminine. Their big, brown eyes were wet as if they were on the verge of tears but the mischief that flickered behind their gaze was near constant.
“Do you not have many who come down to see you?” Hazel asked as she was cleaning up the teapots.
Bardle shook his head. “We are scary. Gnashing teeth keeps most away.” Kai clicked their teeth together in response.
I had seen it though. Occasionally when they opened their mouth to eat a sandwich. The skin they wore, including the teeth they fended off others with, was not real. Not in the way it should have been at least.
“I’m sorry if this is rude to ask,” I began. “But, are you both actually seals or are you wearing a suit?” I didn’t even know if suit was the right way to phrase it. But it was the best I could come up with, without calling it a costume.
The two of them looked at each other cautiously.
[[It’s okay. You don’t have to show me]]
[[It’s okay. We’re safe people]]
[[I’m sorry. I am just a very curious person]]“A full-bodied bone depth,” I said quite seriously. The room changed in tone, the cave walls darkening and the candles flickering to a deep lavender green.
“Oh, a full-bodied bone depth,” Bardle shivered. “The fates are weaving faster and faster now, casting shadows along the market walls. You are a brave soul for such a decision.”
“A brave soul,” Kai repeated.
Bardle poured me tea, the outlines of fingers impressed beneath his fin. The tea came out thick and plum colored, speckled with a crackling fire of the deepest silver. I took it with a serious nod, taking a deep breath before sipping at the tea. Both Bardle and Kai held their breath while I remained amazingly still.
“Oh,” Hazel gasped. “No! $name, you musn’t. Quick, Kai. Get the maroon pancakes. It is the only thing to save someone from such a dreadful poison.”
I heard the clattering inside the picnic basket and tried to keep my laughter close to chest. <<if $hazelro == "true">> I felt Hazel’s hand cross over my own, squeezing it lightly in thanks, her thumb hooking with mine.<</if>>
“If the fates can hear us,” Hazel called out. “I demand you let this soul free from your web. Let them open their mouth and accept the pancake of purification.”
I made a show of struggling to open my mouth before letting it crack open with a pop. Delicately, Hazel put a bite of pancake on my tongue and immediately my eyes snapped open. I gasped, taking in deep breaths, the sound thunderous in the room. Swallowing, I looked at the three of them with saucer wide eyes. When I gave them a thumbs up, Hazel burst into laughter and Bardle and Kai whooped in joy. Someone was playing with them. For the first time in a long time, someone was playing with them.
The tea party went like that. Nonsense being traded back and forth and laughter ringing through the room. By the end of our meal, my belly ached, and my face felt numb from amusement. Bardle and Kai were lively sorts with voices that ranged from squeaky to deep to softly feminine. Their big, brown eyes were wet as if they were on the verge of tears but the mischief that flickered behind their gaze was near constant.
“Do you not have many who come down to see you?” Hazel asked as she was cleaning up the teapots.
Bardle shook his head. “We are scary. Gnashing teeth keeps most away.” Kai clicked their teeth together in response.
I had seen it though. Occasionally when they opened their mouth to eat a sandwich. The skin they wore, including the teeth they fended off others with, was not real. Not in the way it should have been at least.
“I’m sorry if this is rude to ask,” I began. “But, are you both actually seals or are you wearing a suit?” I didn’t even know if suit was the right way to phrase it. But it was the best I could come up with, without calling it a costume.
The two of them looked at each other cautiously.
[[It’s okay. You don’t have to show me]]
[[It’s okay. We’re safe people]]
[[I’m sorry. I am just a very curious person]]“I prefer a manic state of char,” I told them. Did I have any idea of what I was saying? Of course not. But, I was happy to play along. The two selkies in front of me felt far more childlike than anything else. They just wanted to live in a land of make believe and play instead of guarding the gates to an underground world that was filled with large monsters that loomed in the shadows.
“A ashen vintage or a smokey undertone?” Bardle asked.
“Ashen, of course.”
Reaching forward, Bardle took the tea pot and began pouring. Grey ash slipped from within the teapot to fill my cup, smoke rising from the powdery residue. Kai then reached out and sprinkled little flecks of rounded beans on top. They jumped out and down, all escaping the cup.
“The manic portion,” Kaie said solemnly. Hazel hid a small laugh behind her hand.
Taking the cup, I tipped it to my lips. It turned to sweet liquid the second it touched my skin, tasting almost like a strawberry milk. I sucked it all down but coughed for good measure, patting my chest. I gathered the manic beans and whispered my thanks to them.
“Lovely,” I told them seriously.
Both Bardle and Kai looked at me in pure delight. Someone was playing with them. For the first time in a long time, someone was playing with them.
The tea party went like that. Nonsense being traded back and forth and laughter ringing through the room. By the end of our meal, my belly ached, and my face felt numb from amusement. Bardle and Kai were lively sorts with voices that ranged from squeaky to deep to softly feminine. Their big, brown eyes were wet as if they were on the verge of tears but the mischief that flickered behind their gaze was near constant.
“Do you not have many who come down to see you?” Hazel asked as she was cleaning up the teapots.
Bardle shook his head. “We are scary. Gnashing teeth keeps most away.” Kai clicked their teeth together in response.
I had seen it though. Occasionally when they opened their mouth to eat a sandwich. The skin they wore, including the teeth they fended off others with, was not real. Not in the way it should have been at least.
“I’m sorry if this is rude to ask,” I began. “But, are you both actually seals or are you wearing a suit?” I didn’t even know if suit was the right way to phrase it. But it was the best I could come up with, without calling it a costume.
The two of them looked at each other cautiously.
[[It’s okay. You don’t have to show me]]
[[It’s okay. We’re safe people]]
[[I’m sorry. I am just a very curious person]]I couldn’t tell if there was something I was missing or if everyone was in on the same joke I just had not gotten yet. “What are we even talking about?” I asked, looking at them all in turn.
The bark of seal laughter was loud and abrupt, tea splashing across their bodies as they rolled with whatever joke I had just told. Hazel was smiling at my side, trying to keep her amusement low.
“We’re playing,” she whispered to me.
I didn’t know how to play. A childhood may not have been something I ever had. A lone memory of a grandmother who was disappearing from my thoughts the longer the days got, did not indicate any sort of adolescence. I shifted uncomfortably, promising myself that I would at least try. Though, even the effort I had given was one that seemed to amuse the selkies so I couldn’t have been too bad at it.
“I uh– enjoy the marmalade toast. It was baked by small beetles.”
Hazel winced at the attempt, hiding her face. I had no idea how I was supposed to do this and felt my face growing hot from embarrassment. Kai looked excited at the prospect, however.
“Beetles with jelly bellies?” they asked.
Hesitantly, I nodded.
“The finest delicacy,” Bardle proclaimed.
The tea party went like that. Nonsense being traded back and forth and laughter ringing through the room. By the end of our meal, my belly ached, and my face felt numb from amusement. Bardle and Kai were lively sorts with voices that ranged from squeaky to deep to softly feminine. Their big, brown eyes were wet as if they were on the verge of tears but the mischief that flickered behind their gaze was near constant.
“Do you not have many who come down to see you?” Hazel asked as she was cleaning up the teapots.
Bardle shook his head. “We are scary. Gnashing teeth keeps most away.” Kai clicked their teeth together in response.
I had seen it though. Occasionally when they opened their mouth to eat a sandwich. The skin they wore, including the teeth they fended off others with, was not real. Not in the way it should have been at least.
“I’m sorry if this is rude to ask,” I began. “But, are you both actually seals or are you wearing a suit?” I didn’t even know if suit was the right way to phrase it. But it was the best I could come up with, without calling it a costume.
The two of them looked at each other cautiously.
[[It’s okay. You don’t have to show me]]
[[It’s okay. We’re safe people]]
[[I’m sorry. I am just a very curious person]]“It’s okay. You don’t have to show me.” I suddenly didn’t know if I was causing offense. I knew very little of selkies and with the way Kai shifted, I knew I had made them uncomfortable.
Kai scooted closer to Bardle but nodded all the same. The webbed hands I had been spying came up as Bardle grabbed the ridge of his mouth, pulling upwards. Before my eyes, the silky flesh crumbled into fabric before it flopped back like a hood against his back. A round face stared back at me, eyes dark brown and lips thin and bloodless. His skin was greyer in tone and his features spoke of both masculine and feminine qualities with the hint of youth at each corner.
Hazel gasped at the sight. “You are lovely,” she spoke.
Bardle blushed, fingers itching to pull back up the cloak. I nodded my head, watching the clear discomfort flitting across his eyes. Quickly, he pulled the hood back up, becoming a seal once more.
“Kai does not remember before,” Bardle said. “They do not wish to reveal their form.”
“That’s okay,” I assured. “Thank you for showing me. It helps me understand a bit more.”
Bardle nodded, securing his floppy hat back on and righting the starfish that had fallen off the folds.
[[How did you come to guard the Deep?]]
[[Why act mean when you both are so nice?]]
[[How long have you been doing this?]]“It’s okay,” I told them. “We’re safe people.” I wanted to prove that to them. To show the two of them that there were others in the world that would love to play. That they didn’t have to be the scary guards they claimed to be. I had a feeling they were not often met with kindness from the people who wandered down to the Deep.
Kai scooted closer to Bardle but nodded all the same. The webbed hands I had been spying came up as Bardle grabbed the ridge of his mouth, pulling upwards. Before my eyes, the silky flesh crumbled into fabric before it flopped back like a hood against his back. A round face stared back at me, eyes dark brown and lips thin and bloodless. His skin was greyer in tone and his features spoke of both masculine and feminine qualities with the hint of youth at each corner.
Hazel gasped at the sight. “You are lovely,” she spoke.
Bardle blushed, fingers itching to pull back up the cloak. I nodded my head, watching the clear discomfort flitting across his eyes. Quickly, he pulled the hood back up, becoming a seal once more.
“Kai does not remember before,” Bardle said. “They do not wish to reveal their form.”
“That’s okay,” I assured. “Thank you for showing me. It helps me understand a bit more.”
Bardle nodded, securing his floppy hat back on and righting the starfish that had fallen off the folds.
[[How did you come to guard the Deep?]]
[[Why act mean when you both are so nice?]]
[[How long have you been doing this?]]“I’m sorry. I am new to the market. I’m just a curious person. You don’t have to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”
Kai scooted closer to Bardle but nodded all the same. The webbed hands I had been spying came up as Bardle grabbed the ridge of his mouth, pulling upwards. Before my eyes, the silky flesh crumbled into fabric before it flopped back like a hood against his back. A round face stared back at me, eyes dark brown and lips thin and bloodless. His skin was greyer in tone and his features spoke of both masculine and feminine qualities with the hint of youth at each corner.
Hazel gasped at the sight. “You are lovely,” she spoke.
Bardle blushed, fingers itching to pull back up the cloak. I nodded my head, watching the clear discomfort flitting across his eyes. Quickly, he pulled the hood back up, becoming a seal once more.
“Kai does not remember before,” Bardle said. “They do not wish to reveal their form.”
“That’s okay,” I assured. “Thank you for showing me. It helps me understand a bit more.”
Bardle nodded, securing his floppy hat back on and righting the starfish that had fallen off the folds.
[[How did you come to guard the Deep?]]
[[Why act mean when you both are so nice?]]
[[How long have you been doing this?]]“How did you come to guard the Deep?” I asked them. It seemed like an odd job for two young souls like them to enter into. I couldn’t even fathom who would even hire them.
“Mistake,” Kai whispered.
Bardle nodded. “We swam through a gate and could not get home. So, we stay here, guarding the gate in the waters. Waiting for it to open again.”
“So no one actually put you in charge of this passageway?” Hazel asked. They both shook their head. The gate they spoke of wasn’t even the one at my back. It was something else. Down beneath the white capped waters. I wondered if anyone could see it from the surface.
“We were playing when we came through. A game that mama instructed us to do,” Bardle said seriously. “Now we wait for her to finish the game. We will not stop playing until she tells us it's time for bed.”
The gates were closed. Families separated, trapped on either side. I wanted to promise them that I would fix it. The Gatekeeper would be held responsible. But I didn’t want to give them hope I may not be able to deliver.
“Mama will find us,” Kai affirmed. “Mama always finds us.”
I swallowed thickly, giving them an encouraging smile. “And until then?”
“Until then we guard the fishes from enemies beyond,” they shouted in unison.
[[Next|Bardle and Kai end]]
“Why do you act the way you do?” I asked curiously. “The two of you act as if you are a threat. You are known as the guardians of the Deep who collect bones. But both of you are so nice. Don’t you want others to come here and play with you?”
Kai nodded enthusiastically but Bardle shook his head no. “Only the worthy. Only the ones who will look past what we give them and still love us. Those are who we will play with. Pirates shall be sunk.”
Kai looked slightly disappointed. They were the softer of the two. Most likely the younger as well. “Mama always said to be nice,” Kai whispered. “She’ll not be happy if we sink too many ships.”
Bardle sighed, rolling their eyes. “We of course don't actually sink ships. Only threaten.”
“You two haven’t hurt anyone,” Hazel said with dawning realization. Her eyes were coal black as she looked at them, magic swirling. “You only want to get home.”
The gates were closed. Families separated, trapped on either side. I wanted to promise them that I would fix it. The Gatekeeper would be held responsible. But I didn’t want to give them hope I may not be able to deliver.
“Mama will find us,” Kai affirmed. “Mama always finds us.”
I swallowed thickly, giving them an encouraging smile. “And until then?”
“Until then we guard the fishes from enemies beyond,” they shouted in unison.
[[Next|Bardle and Kai end]]
“How long have you been doing all of this?” I asked. “Guarding the Deep.” They seemed young. Far too young to have the responsibility of guarding the realm. But, as Hazel said, there was a very real possibility that they were older than her or I combined.
“Years are long and unnecessary,” Kai said. “We were pups when we started.”
Bardle nodded solemnly. “Mama will be following us soon.”
I felt my heart ache. Their mother. For however long they had been here, they had expected their mother to follow, and yet there was no one. At my side, Hazel looked how I felt. Her face crumpling into sadness.
“Your mother?” I asked.
“We swam to the gate,” Bardle said. “The glow is gone.”
The gates were closed. Families separated, trapped on either side. I wanted to promise them that I would fix it. The Gatekeeper would be held responsible. But I didn’t want to give them hope I may not be able to deliver.
“Mama will find us,” Kai affirmed. “Mama always finds us.”
I swallowed thickly, giving them an encouraging smile. “And until then?”
“Until then we guard the fishes from enemies beyond,” they shouted in unison.
[[Next|Bardle and Kai end]]
We left the entrance to the Deep much lighter than we came. Hazel ended up leaving the tea sets there with a promise to bring more in the upcoming months. Bardle and Kai looked longingly at us when we said it was time to go but were buoyed with the idea of being visited again. I didn’t think I could go long without checking on the two of them. And I doubted Hazel could either.
“I like them,” Hazel said.
“I like them, too.” They had been terrifying creatures that I had not understood on first meeting but they were ones that I now felt oddly protective of. I wanted to go back and play with them. Bring them little bits and bobs. Get them both new hats that were not waterlogged.
“Do you think that their mother is still looking for them?” Hazel asked hesitantly.
We stepped onto the sandy beaches, walking back towards the apothecary. Hazel moved closer to my side as we began to see people. Even as a construct, old habits died hard.
“I hope so,” I said quietly. “I’m really hopeful that one day we’ll be able to figure out the mystery of the gates. I doubted those two are the first to have been separated from their family.”
“It must not have been a trade gate they came through,” Hazel said. “Just one that opened and closed at random.” It went without saying that their world could ultimately be gone. Looking back behind me, I knew I wouldn’t be able to see the selkies. I couldn’t even see the ocean now. But I could imagine it. The two of them playing in the waves.
For their sake, I really hoped we figured this gate situation out soon. If only so they could see their mother again.
[[Chapter Nine]]The question of what to get a small ghost girl was something that had been on my mind since meeting Ever. I promised I would come back and visit and honestly, nights that I spent alone, the idea of the girl sitting outside on a box doing the same, haunted me. Ironic, really. The situation with Caliban had left my mind disquiet and while there was nothing I could do when it came to him, I could at the very least keep my promise to a little girl.
I had gathered a few little things with the intent to ask her what it was she liked. Other than a stuffed cow, I knew nothing of her interests. Why she was hanging out outside of Milo’s front door was even more disturbing if I thought too hard on it.
Taking what was now becoming a familiar set of alley’s, I navigated myself down towards Milo’s distillery. The faint smell of barley still clung to the porous surfaces, a phantom memory of a time when the building had actually been in use.
I heard laughter before anything else. Deep belly laughs from a little girl who was highly amused. And then, another sound as well. Milo’s familiar tone of mischief filtered through the empty alleyway. It gave me pause. I knew that he spent time with Ever but I hadn’t thought it to be anything more than an obligation. This sounded like something so much different.
Rounding the corner I spotted the two of them perched on the old pile of crates. Ever was standing on top of one while Milo lounged on another, knees crooked towards his chest and back pressed to the wall.
“$name,” Ever shouted. “You came back. Milo, look, this is my friend $name.”
He smirked, looking at me coming down the alley. If my presence was a surprise, he didn’t show it. “Never seen this person in my life, Ever. You talkin’ to strangers?”
She giggled. “You know who ?them, Milo. Don’t be silly.”
“I am the most serious person you’ll ever meet.”
It sent Ever into a peal of giggles again as she plopped herself back down on her box. “Did you bring presents, $name?”
I looked down at the bag in my hand. “I did, actually.” Approaching the two of them, I lifted my bag of goodies. “I wasn’t really sure what you would like so I brought a few things.”
Ever clapped her hands. “Multiple pressies!” She made grabby hands towards the bag, opening it up in delight and cooing at the contents. With each item she pulled out, she seemed more and more excited and I was starting to get the idea that she just liked receiving gifts more than the gifts themselves.
“What’s this?” she asked, pulling out a book.
Milo frowned at her. “What do you mean, what’s that? It’s a book.”
“It’s a weird book.”
I reached forward, grabbing a pack of colors. “You can draw in it,” I told her. “You fill in between the lines. A coloring book is what they told me in the market.” I had gotten it from the section of the market where the children ran free.
Ever’s eyes went wide. “I can color in it?” She looked at Milo for permission. He just gestured towards her to have fun.
I watched as Ever tore into the package of colors, humming as she opened up the book.
[[If you don’t like it I can always get something else]]
[[If you like those I can get you paints next]]
[[So spirits can still touch and manipulate objects?]]“If you don’t like it, I can go back to the market to get something else,” I told her. Though, she was ignoring me for the package of colors, eyeing them all discerningly and holding them up to the light.
“You will not,” Milo said. “Ever, say thank you.”
“Thank you,” she parroted, diving into the coloring pages with gusto.
Milo rolled his eyes. “Great job, kid. Way to really sell it.”
“Technically,” I pointed out, “the fact that she is ignoring me for what I brought means she likes it. I’ll take it as a thanks.”
“Doesn’t do much in teaching her manners.” I hid a snort of laughter as I saw her mock him, mouthing his words under her breath. Milo caught it and threw one of the coloring sticks at her. She faded from existence for a pop to dodge it before rematerializing and going right back to the book.
“Ever just got back from the Inbetween place so we were going to spend time together if she can tear herself away from her new toy that she owes a better sense of gratitude to you for. Was there something that you needed, $name?”
“Honestly, I was also coming to look for Ever. I promised her I would bring her toys.”
Milo did a double take as he looked at me, a softness entering his eyes. “Want to join us?”
“Oh, yes. Please join us! Milo cooks my favorite!”
“You cook?” I asked with a raised brow.
“Of course I cook. It’s inside now. Simmering on the stove.” <<if $miloro == "true">> I had been inside that house of his. There was no kitchen. Just a hot plate that sparked with old magic he had stolen from someone.<<elseif $miloro == "false">>I had never been inside Milo’s home but I had heard from Hazel that it wasn’t much. I had also heard from Hazel that he was an irredeemable cook.<</if>>
“Interesting,” I told him.
“Isn’t it?” He hopped off the crate and looked at Ever. “I’ll go check on the food. Give you and $name some alone time. Don’t talk about anything interesting while I’m gone.” He paused at the door. “And mind your manners.”
Ever didn’t look up at his assertion, but Milo stared her down for a moment longer, hoping she would feel his gaze. When he stepped inside, the door shut with a clang.
“Dork,” she laughed to herself.
[[You two seem to have a lot of fun]]
[[Anything exciting been happening?]]
[[Can I color with you?]]“If you like those I can get you paints next.” I had almost bought her different pots of pigment she could dilute with water. The alley itself was so drab that I wanted to encourage her to paint the little bits of stone to something far brighter.
“What are paints again?” she asked, looking at Milo curiously. She did that from time to time. Looked at him for confirmation. Almost like she was using him as her link to the market.
“The stuff you got in your hair that one time,” Milo responded.
She broke out into a grin. “I liked my pink hair. It added character.”
Milo shook his head but was smiling none the less. “Ever just got back from the Inbetween so we were going to be spending some time together tonight. Was there something that you needed, $name?”
“Honestly, I was also coming to look for Ever. I promised her I would bring her toys.”
Milo did a double take as he looked at me, a softness entering his eyes. “Want to join us?”
“Oh, yes. Please join us! Milo cooks my favorite!”
“You cook?” I asked with a raised brow.
“Of course I cook. It’s inside now. Simmering on the stove.” <<if $miloro == "true">> I had been inside that house of his. There was no kitchen. Just a hot plate that sparked with old magic he had stolen from someone.<<elseif $miloro == "false">>I had never been inside Milo’s home but I had heard from Hazel that it wasn’t much. I had also heard from Hazel that he was an irredeemable cook.<</if>>
“Interesting,” I told him.
“Isn’t it?” He hopped off the crate and looked at Ever. “I’ll go check on the food. Give you and $name some alone time. Don’t talk about anything interesting while I’m gone.” He paused at the door. “And mind your manners.”
Ever didn’t look up at his assertion, but Milo stared her down for a moment longer, hoping she would feel his gaze. When he stepped inside, the door shut with a clang.
“Dork,” she laughed to herself.
[[You two seem to have a lot of fun]]
[[Anything exciting been happening?]]
[[Can I color with you?]]“Spirits can still manipulate objects?” For some reason I thought that they wouldn’t be able to touch anything. That they were destined to live an existence where they merely existed with their conscious but nothing more.
Milo shrugged. “I think it might depend on the spirit but Ever has always been able to touch things. Spirits in Hazel’s alley can as well. The thing that kind of defines the spirits is that they can’t leave their spot and they aren’t always here.”
“The Inbetween place,” Ever confirmed with a nod.
“Ever just got back from there so we were going to be spending some time together tonight. Was there something that you needed, $name?”
“Honestly, I was also coming to look for Ever. I promised her I would bring her toys.”
Milo did a double take as he looked at me, a softness entering his eyes. “Want to join us?”
“Oh, yes. Please join us! Milo cooks my favorite!”
“You cook?” I asked with a raised brow.
“Of course I cook. It’s inside now. Simmering on the stove.” <<if $miloro == "true">> I had been inside that house of his. There was no kitchen. Just a hot plate that sparked with old magic he had stolen from someone. <<elseif $miloro == "false">> I had never been inside Milo’s home but I had heard from Hazel that it wasn’t much. I had also heard from Hazel that he was an irredeemable cook.<</if>>
“Interesting,” I told him.
“Isn’t it?” He hopped off the crate and looked at Ever. “I’ll go check on the food. Give you and $name some alone time. Don’t talk about anything interesting while I’m gone.” He paused at the door. “And mind your manners.”
Ever didn’t look up at his assertion, but Milo stared her down for a moment longer, hoping she would feel his gaze. When he stepped inside, the door shut with a clang.
“Dork,” she laughed to herself.
[[You two seem to have a lot of fun]]
[[Anything exciting been happening?]]
[[Can I color with you?]]“You two seem to have a lot of fun together,” I commented. They had a close rapport. One that said they were both obviously comfortable with each other Milo was far more at ease with her than I saw hm with others. Not that he was tense around strangers, but there was an air about him. Like he was rummaging through the weaknesses of everyone he met. With Ever, he just //was//.
“I keep Milo young,” Ever said with a resolute nod.
“I don’t even know how old I am,” he said. “Technically, I might be younger than you. Maybe I’m a baby.”
“You are a baby,” she snorted. “I heard you crying when you stubbed your toe.”
“I was not crying,” he protested quickly. Then, turning to me, he pointed a finger at his door. “You try kicking your foot into nine inches of steel and see how you handle it.”
“I would probably cry too,” I said.
“Manly tears,” he said. “They smelled of musk.”
Ever tipped her head to the side, looking at the picture she was working on. “I wonder why my daddy never allowed these in the house,” she said. “They make such pretty markings.” Milo’s lips were thinned at her query. Instead of answering, he picked up one of the color sticks and began coloring with her.
“So you remember your life before?” I asked.
“A bit. Just my dad. He smelled like piped tobacco and old leather. And some sort of thing he put on his face after he shaved off his whiskers.” Grabbing another color, she started on another page. “Did you know that pigs are super smart? Smarter than people.”
“I did not know that.” Nor did I know it was true but I wasn't about to argue with the little girl.
[[How far down the alley can you go?]]
[[How long do you get to stay?]]
[[Do you get to choose when you come back?]]“Anything exciting been happening?” I asked, sitting down next to the two of them. “Or are you two just out here chatting.”
“Milo was telling me about his adventures,” Ever said. “He said he was going to the deepest darkest corners of the market, searching out the secrets of the universe.”
“Exploring,” Milo said. “I was exploring.” I raised a brow at him. A brow he raised back towards me.
<<if $miloro == "true">> “Meeting someone beautiful and full of life is what he told me. Romantic intentions abound.”
“Oh, is that so?” I laughed, keeping eye contact with him.
“Yes. He says he is going to find the greatest gift and give it to his one true love in a spectacular gesture of passion.”
“I did not say that,” he smirked. “I said I was looking for a gift. Something special.”
“Not true,” Ever protested.
“You’re lying,” Milo said.
“Bending the truth.”
I grinned at the two of them, noticing the way Milo’s cheeks went a little red at the discussion.<<elseif $miloro == "false">> “He was telling me tales of saviors. Of evil goblins and noble heroes trying to save the innocent and kind.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “And how do these noble heroes plan to save the innocent and kind.”
“By being truthful,” she said with a smirk. “Milo’s tales often have a moral to them. He likes to instill lessons.”
Milo rolled his eyes. “Someone's got to.”
“Worry wort.” She picked out two color sticks at the same time and drew several circles in a row. “I wish I had these back home.”<</if>>
“Do you remember anything about where you came from?” I asked curiously.
“A bit. Just my dad. He smelled like piped tobacco and old leather. And some sort of thing he put on his face after he shaved off his whiskers.” Grabbing another color, she started on another page. “Did you know that pigs are super smart? Smarter than people.”
“I did not know that.” Nor did I know it was true but I wasn't about to argue with the little girl.
[[How far down the alley can you go?]]
[[How long do you get to stay?]]
[[Do you get to choose when you come back?]]“Do you mind if I color with you?” I asked. Immediately, she scooted aside, making room for me. I picked up the bit of colored wax and began filling in the designs on the page. I had picked something with farm animals since I knew she liked cows.
“I never knew you could color in books,” she said in concentration.
“They have different kinds out there. I’ll bring you a few more.”
Looking up at me through her lashes, she frowned. “So you do plan to come back then?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think the people who promise me things are lying. I just think adults get busy and forget about me.”
Hazel didn’t come down to the alley anymore. Milo was off doing whatever it was that he did for a job. I didn’t know if others came around but it was clear she was lonely.
“I’m busy with adult things,” I told her slowly. “But, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t make the time to come and color.”
“I like coloring. I tried to do it once in my daddy’s books but he got made at me for it and threw out my colors. I thought coloring inside books wasn’t allowed because of that.”
“No, you can still color. Just in special books.” It was the second time she had mentioned a father to me. No mother. “So you remember your family?”
“A bit. Just my dad. He smelled like piped tobacco and old leather. And some sort of thing he put on his face after he shaved off his whiskers.” Grabbing another color, she started on another page. “Did you know that pigs are super smart? Smarter than people.”
“I did not know that.” Nor did I know it was true but I wasn't about to argue with the little girl.
[[How far down the alley can you go?]]
[[How long do you get to stay?]]
[[Do you get to choose when you come back?]]
<<set $colorwithever to "true">>“How far down the alley can you go?” I asked curiously. I had yet to see her off the boxes and I wondered if she was contained to just here or if she could at least run and play down the stretch of street. If she could, there were other games I could bring her.
She eyed the alley discerningly, tipping her head to the side and sticking her tongue out. “Not to the opening,” she said. “But close.”
It was too small of a place. Not enough room at all for someone as young as her. “Can you ever go inside Milo’s home?”
“Sometimes I can walk through the door but I don’t like it in there. It’s cold. And not very homey. My box is far homier than his place.”
The door to the distillery opened again with a creek as Milo came stumbling out, a large tray in hand. “Here we are. Homemade mac and cheese.”
Three bowls heaped high with cheesy noodles sat on the tray. Along with a single daisy. Ever tossed aside her coloring book quietly, her eyes on the food. There was a small comfort in the idea that she could eat.
“Here you are my Never Ever,” Milo proclaimed with a bow. He handed her the biggest bowl with a serving size spoon in it. Then, to me, another bowl, steam billowing off of it, piping hot. “Darlin’.”
I took the bowl, looking at it curiously. It was gooey and smelled amazing, with crumbles of bacon on top. Ever was already halfway through her bowl by the time I took the first bite, and I looked at Milo, dubiously.
He was avoiding my gaze entirely, however.
“Milo, $name says there are other books like this. Can I have some?”
“Yeah. If you read the book I got you.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“Cool. Not getting that coloring book then,” he said around a mouthful of his mac and cheese. “World sucks, kid. Don’t know what to tell you.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, stabbing at her bowl with a loud clank of her spoon. “Malcolm would have just gotten me the coloring book.”
I froze. Any time Malcolm was mentioned, Milo got cagey. He ran or his demeanor tensed. The mere mention of the dead man sent him into a spiral from what I had observed. But instead, his laughter rang out through the market.
“You are lucky Mal is not here. You think he would let you get away with that? That man would be out here making you write lines on the alley walls.” His eyes were bright as he said the man's name with ease. Such a difference from how he was around Hazel. “And don’t you go pitting $name against me like you used to try to do with me and him,” Milo warned. “I’m older and smarter now.”
“Doubt Malcolm would think so,” she snorted.
“Probably not,” Milo grinned. He caught my expression, his head tipping to the side in confusion.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just don’t hear you talk about him all that much.
“What?” Ever interrupted. “What’s that supposed to mean? You told me we got to keep talking about him. It’s how we remember him.”
Milo nodded. “$name didn’t mean anything by it, Ever. The things I talk about around others is a bit different from here.”
“Why?” she asked curiously. I was wondering the same thing.
Milo shrugged. “Just comfortable, I guess. And it doesn’t hurt you to talk about Malcolm. Sometimes it makes Hazel sad though. Now finish your food.”
We ate together, the three of us laughing while Ever chatted about her knowledge of farm animals.
<<if $miloro == "false">> [[Next|Ever non milo]] <<elseif $miloro == "true">> [[Next|Ever milo]]<</if>>“How long do you get to stay?” I asked her. I kept my tone casual, because while the situation was terrifying to me, it may not have been for her.
“I feel strong today,” she said. “At least a seven. We rate my days,” she explained. “It was something Milo came up with so he could figure out how I was feeling. He tries to stick around more if I’m below a four. That way I don’t disappear on my own.” I couldn’t imagine that. Living with that kind of uncertainty. To be a young girl like Ever and not know when she would be lucid enough to participate in life. And to be someone like Milo, knowing that when he walked away at night, she might not be there the next morning.
“How long does a seven last?” I asked.
“At least a full day,” she said excitedly. It only made my own heart ache. Her life was lived in small intervals. The time between varying with each journey.
The door to the distillery opened again with a creek as Milo came stumbling out, a large tray in hand. “Here we are. Homemade mac and cheese.”
Three bowls heaped high with cheesy noodles sat on the tray. Along with a single daisy. Ever tossed aside her coloring book quietly, her eyes on the food. There was a small comfort in the idea that she could eat.
“Here you are my Never Ever,” Milo proclaimed with a bow. He handed her the biggest bowl with a serving size spoon in it. Then, to me, another bowl, steam billowing off of it, piping hot. “Darlin’.”
I took the bowl, looking at it curiously. It was gooey and smelled amazing, with crumbles of bacon on top. Ever was already halfway through her bowl by the time I took the first bite, and I looked at Milo, dubiously.
He was avoiding my gaze entirely, however.
“Milo, $name says there are other books like this. Can I have some?”
“Yeah. If you read the book I got you.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“Cool. Not getting that coloring book then,” he said around a mouthful of his mac and cheese. “World sucks, kid. Don’t know what to tell you.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, stabbing at her bowl with a loud clank of her spoon. “Malcolm would have just gotten me the coloring book.”
I froze. Any time Malcolm was mentioned, Milo got cagey. He ran or his demeanor tensed. The mere mention of the dead man sent him into a spiral from what I had observed. But instead, his laughter rang out through the market.
“You are lucky Mal is not here. You think he would let you get away with that? That man would be out here making you write lines on the alley walls.” His eyes were bright as he said the man's name with ease. Such a difference from how he was around Hazel. “And don’t you go pitting $name against me like you used to try to do with me and him,” Milo warned. “I’m older and smarter now.”
“Doubt Malcolm would think so,” she snorted.
“Probably not,” Milo grinned. He caught my expression, his head tipping to the side in confusion.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just don’t hear you talk about him all that much.
“What?” Ever interrupted. “What’s that supposed to mean? You told me we got to keep talking about him. It’s how we remember him.”
Milo nodded. “$name didn’t mean anything by it, Ever. The things I talk about around others is a bit different from here.”
“Why?” she asked curiously. I was wondering the same thing.
Milo shrugged. “Just comfortable, I guess. And it doesn’t hurt you to talk about Malcolm. Sometimes it makes Hazel sad though. Now finish your food.”
We ate together, the three of us laughing while Ever chatted about her knowledge of farm animals.
<<if $miloro == "false">> [[Next|Ever non milo]] <<elseif $miloro == "true">> [[Next|Ever milo]]<</if>>“Do you get to choose when you come back here?” I asked her. I kept my tone casual, the two of us contemplating the pictures and the colors she was putting on the page.
“No. I sometimes don’t even know I’m gone.”
“Oh. That’s sounds kind of scary.”
“I hate it.” There was venom in her voice, her color pressed hard into the paper and leaving a waxy streak. “I just wish I could stay here all the time. Not even move from here, although that would be nice. I just want to not go back there.”
“Are there things there that can hurt you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Milo told me to hide if I could. I try to stay low and quiet when I can. But sometimes, I just fall asleep and don’t know where I am.”
She was young. Ever looked barely seven and yet she was hiding somewhere in a desolate world where only spirits wandered, hoping she could come back to her existence upon a crate. It was not a life to live.
“I made friends there once,” she said. “But I don’t know where they went. Milo says they may have moved on to the spirit well. Or they decide they didn’t want to come back at all. Or they may have even been reborn at the graveyard at the edge of town. It sounds like there are a lot of ways someone can come back here but I just don’t know of any of them. And I don’t have a grave at the graveyard so I know I wasn’t born here. And Milo says I won’t be reborn back home. Says it doesn’t work that way.”
Milo and her apparently had extensive conversations about this. It probably was not something they were able to put off after a while.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “None of that sounds fun.”
“Not as fun as coloring.”
The door to the distillery opened again with a creek as Milo came stumbling out, a large tray in hand. “Here we are. Homemade mac and cheese.”
Three bowls heaped high with cheesy noodles sat on the tray. Along with a single daisy. Ever tossed aside her coloring book quietly, her eyes on the food. There was a small comfort in the idea that she could eat.
“Here you are my Never Ever,” Milo proclaimed with a bow. He handed her the biggest bowl with a serving size spoon in it. Then, to me, another bowl, steam billowing off of it, piping hot. “Darlin’.”
I took the bowl, looking at it curiously. It was gooey and smelled amazing, with crumbles of bacon on top. Ever was already halfway through her bowl by the time I took the first bite, and I looked at Milo, dubiously.
He was avoiding my gaze entirely, however.
“Milo, $name says there are other books like this. Can I have some?”
“Yeah. If you read the book I got you.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“Cool. Not getting that coloring book then,” he said around a mouthful of his mac and cheese. “World sucks, kid. Don’t know what to tell you.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, stabbing at her bowl with a loud clank of her spoon. “Malcolm would have just gotten me the coloring book.”
I froze. Any time Malcolm was mentioned, Milo got cagey. He ran or his demeanor tensed. The mere mention of the dead man sent him into a spiral from what I had observed. But instead, his laughter rang out through the market.
“You are lucky Mal is not here. You think he would let you get away with that? That man would be out here making you write lines on the alley walls.” His eyes were bright as he said the man's name with ease. Such a difference from how he was around Hazel. “And don’t you go pitting $name against me like you used to try to do with me and him,” Milo warned. “I’m older and smarter now.”
“Doubt Malcolm would think so,” she snorted.
“Probably not,” Milo grinned. He caught my expression, his head tipping to the side in confusion.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just don’t hear you talk about him all that much.
“What?” Ever interrupted. “What’s that supposed to mean? You told me we got to keep talking about him. It’s how we remember him.”
Milo nodded. “$name didn’t mean anything by it, Ever. The things I talk about around others is a bit different from here.”
“Why?” she asked curiously. I was wondering the same thing.
Milo shrugged. “Just comfortable, I guess. And it doesn’t hurt you to talk about Malcolm. Sometimes it makes Hazel sad though. Now finish your food.”
We ate together, the three of us laughing while Ever chatted about her knowledge of farm animals.
<<if $miloro == "false">> [[Next|Ever non milo]] <<elseif $miloro == "true">> [[Next|Ever milo]]<</if>>After, as Milo gathered the dishes, I turned to Ever. “What would you like me to bring next time?”
She thought about this carefully, tapping her fingers against her chin. “Is there a way to grow things here?”
Even Milo seemed to give pause to her request. “What do you mean, Never Ever?”
“I want to grow apples. Like mama.”
I glanced towards Milo, not sure how we should continue. The girl was looking at the two of us with such a happy gleam to her eyes. She suddenly looked far more human than the spectral visage that she had to take most of the night.
“You remember your mom?” Milo asked carefully.
“Oh yes. She had a big apple orchard that I used to lie in. The apples were big and made of so many colors and the leaves of the tree were crimson red. The air smelled sweetest right before sunset. Mama used to wander the orchard, singing and humming all day. Chasing after me and my brother.”
There was such sadness to Milo’s face. As he stared at Ever, his mouth parted, I could tell he was at a loss for words. Trying to smile at Ever encouragingly, I stepped forward. “What was her name?” I asked. “Do you remember?”
“Whose name?”
“Your mom.”
Ever looked at me confused. “I don’t remember my mom. Were we talking about mom?”
Milo gathered himself quickly, the dishes still balanced in his hands. “Nah. We were talking about cows. And how good my cooking is.”
“I love cows,” Ever said, clapping.
“$name, it’s been fun. But I think it’s time you go. I got to start winding this one down for the evening.”
I wanted to ask Milo what had just happened. If this was a common occurrence. Maybe Ever’s mother was still out there, in fact. And shouldn’t she know that her baby girl was living outside a man's distillery, stuck? But the look on Milo’s face said there would be no more discussion of it tonight. At least not while Ever was present.
Coming up, I placed my hand on the chilly outline of Ever’s shoulder. “I’ll be back soon,” I told her.
“Bye, $name! Thank you for the pressies!”
When I turned to walk down the alley, I felt sadness curl around me. Ever deserved better. So many of the spirits did.
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>Afterward, when Milo was gathering the bowls, he looked at me. “Want to come inside for a minute?”
I looked at Ever. She was already invested in her coloring book again, having found a pack of stickers to decorate it.
“Sure.”
Helping Milo gather the empty bowls, the two of us headed inside, going downstairs to his non-existent kitchen. “You absolutely did not cook that,” I told him.
“Rude,” he shot back at me. He was heading towards a ladder. One that led to an open window. “True. But terribly rude.”
Someone was waiting just outside with an empty box. Milo was piling a few things in there and handing the man a few coins.
“Did you just pay someone to take away your dirty dishes?”
“And bring the food,” he said hopping down. “Mac and Cheese is her favorite. I get it from a cart over in Canary Isle. It’s a bitch to get delivered but it's the one thing that she eats without disappearing right afterward. I’m not sure why food affects her like that.”
“She’s sweet.”
“She can be.”
[[You care for her a lot]]
[[It must be hard having something like that right outside your door]]
[[What was with the reading thing?]]
“You care for her a lot.” The two of them had an ease with each other. A soft bond that made Milo’s smile easier. And Ever looked at him with absolute love and adoration. Each time she looked at Milo she brightened, her body becoming more opaque, the lines of her body firmer.
“I do,” he said softly.
“It sounds like she needs someone to care for her.” With no parents and no family around, she needed companionship. The little bit of life she managed to keep a hold of was hard enough as it was. Milo was the bright spot that she needed.
“She deserves more,” he said. “Living the life she does just doesn’t seem right.”
“But is there anything you can do?” I asked. Whether it was right or wrong wasn’t up for debate if there wasn’t even a choice to be made.
Milo shook his head. “No. Not that I have found at least. Maybe as the market changes or we learn more about the spirits but I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” He shrugged. “But hey, who knows what the future will bring, yeah? And I don’t plan to leave this place. Not while she’s here. Not for a long time at least."
“Have you talked to Hazel?”
“A few times. Death is just tricky in the Night Market. Follows different rules for different people. And honestly, I don’t know how much I really want to put Ever through? Maybe it’s kinder just to let her be.”
[[I think you’re doing the best you can]]
[[What does letting her be do?]]
[[Is there a possibility she could be alive again?]]“That must be hard, having that situation right outside your door.” I couldn’t imagine walking out the door every day with a reminder of how brutal and short some peoples lives could be.
Milo shrugged. “I guess. What’s the alternative though? Ignoring her is just fucking cruel. Especially if I’m just doing it for my own comfort.”
“No. I think you are doing the right thing. It still doesn’t make it any easier though.” <<if $miloro == "true">> Reaching out, I ran my hand down his arm, tangling my fingers within his own. I squeezed them tightly, letting him know I was here.<</if>>
“It’s just one of those things,” he said, trying to shrug off the sentiment. The more I got to know Milo, the more I came to realize he didn’t do great with compliments. He needed to hear them more. Especially when he was doing something as selfless as this.
“Well, either way, she seems happy. With what little she can appear, it does look like you provide what you can.”
“I worry about her, sometimes. I don’t like when she’s here all alone. I don’t know how to fix it though.” There was true frustration in his tone and I didn’t doubt that this weighed heavily on his mind.
“Have you talked to Hazel?”
“A few times. Death is just tricky in the Night Market. Follows different rules for different people. And honestly, I don’t know how much I really want to put Ever through? Maybe it’s kinder just to let her be.”
[[I think you’re doing the best you can]]
[[What does letting her be do?]]
[[Is there a possibility she could be alive again?]]“Can I ask why she doesn’t get another coloring book until she finishes a book?”
“Oh,” he laughed. “That. Yeah. I’ve been trying to teach her. Just small things. I don’t know. Books have lots of stories and stuff in them. Ways to pass the time. I don’t want her to feel lonely if I’m not around. Plus, she can’t see the world. But I still want her to experience it.”
It was touching. The fact that he gave so much consideration to that. Stepping up close, I laced my fingers within his own. “That’s oddly out of character of you,” I laughed. “And yet so incredibly thoughtful.”
“I can be thoughtful,” he protested. “Sometimes.” He ducked his head. “She just got a shitty hand dealt to her. Felt like easing it a bit.” Brining our hands up, he pressed his lips to my knuckles. “Thank you for taking the time to come see her.”
“I promised her. I couldn’t go back on that.”
“I worry about her, sometimes. I don’t like when she’s here all alone. I don’t know how to fix it though.” There was true frustration in his tone and I didn’t doubt that this weighed heavily on his mind.
“Have you talked to Hazel?”
“A few times. Death is just tricky in the Night Market. Follows different rules for different people. And honestly, I don’t know how much I really want to put Ever through? Maybe it’s kinder just to let her be.”
[[I think you’re doing the best you can]]
[[What does letting her be do?]]
[[Is there a possibility she could be alive again?]]“I think you’re doing the best that you can,” I told him.
“I’m not,” he snorted in mirthless laughter.
“What else could you possibly do?”
Leaning against the counter, he buzzed his lips in frustration. Ankles crossing, he shoved his hands in his pocket, putting his weight against the unused kitchen. A kitchen that I couldn’t even understand why he put in given that he didn’t cook.
“I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of things, if you haven’t noticed. I’m more of the live in the moment and let future me deal with the consequences of my actions.”
“Milo, focus. Ever. What could you possibly do about Ever that you haven’t been?”
His shoulder slumped. “Nothing, I guess. Nothing that I can think of. There might be some people I could contact but–” he rubbed a hand across his face. “Maybe when this entire Night Market thing is fixed. Maybe that’s the next step.”
“I could help you,” I offered.
He smiled sadly, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re like one of those really good people, huh.”
Stepping forward, I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling him encircle me in his embrace. “I don’t know,” I told him honestly. “But I want to be.” I laced my fingers through the curls of his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp. “You are good to her,” I told him.
“Can I be good to you tonight?” he murmured.
I snorted in laughter. “We are spending the evening with Ever.”
“She’s coloring.” I smacked his shoulder and watched as he stepped away with a slight smile. “Alright. Fair. Let’s go color with the girl. But I want you here tonight, darlin’. Miss havin’ you in my bed.”
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I kissed the spot between his shoulder blades. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to, Milo. Just say the word.”
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>“What does letting her be do?” I asked. It was in the way he said it. Like there was a decision to be made.
“It could make it so she finally moves on. Goes to the well of souls or whatever it is that is in the Deep.”
He couldn’t look at me as he said it. Feet shuffling against the ground, kicking at the dirty floor, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Is that what you want?”
“It’s not about what I want,” he said quickly. I stayed silent, letting him process what he had said, wondering if the words were spoken far more out of frustration than out of truth. “It’s just fucking unfair,” he said, tipping his head back and letting out a breath. “She’s a kid.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“I keep thinking if she can move on she might be happier but she’s not from here and the entire death system is a convoluted mess. How am I supposed to advise her on any of it?”
“Has she asked?” He shook his head no. “Does she seem unhappy?”
“Sometimes.”
I leaned against the counter, looking at him. I certainly did not have the answers that he was searching for. Milo looked almost lost, his eyes continuing to tick towards the door, feet ready to carry him back there. Sighing, I stepped up to him, pressing myself close for comfort. He tipped his head down, resting it on my shoulder.
I laced my fingers through the curls of his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp. “You are good to her,” I told him.
“Can I be good to you tonight?” he murmured.
I snorted in laughter. “We are spending the evening with Ever.”
“She’s coloring.” I smacked his shoulder and watched as he stepped away with a slight smile. “Alright. Fair. Let’s go color with the girl. But I want you here tonight, darlin’. Miss havin’ you in my bed.”
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I kissed the spot between his shoulder blades. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to, Milo. Just say the word.”
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>The way he said it struck me differently. “Is there a possibility that she could be alive again? Be reborn?”
Milo’s eyes flickered away. “I think so. But like I said. The rules of death are never quite so cut and dry. Ever isn’t from here so I wouldn’t even know how to go about figuring out what rules her afterlife would go by.”
“Do you know where she's from?”
He nodded. “The world I am. But, I left that world so long ago that I don’t really remember it. So I don’t know how much help I’ll really be there.”
“It’s a start.”
“Dead end,” he said disappointed. “I have tried. I just…”
“You don’t want to hurt her,” I said as he trailed off.
Tipping his head to my shoulder, he nodded. “I don’t really like hurting anyone. Despite what my job sometimes entails.”
I laced my fingers through the curls of his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp. “You are good to her,” I told him.
“Can I be good to you tonight?” he murmured.
I snorted in laughter. “We are spending the evening with Ever.”
“She’s coloring.” I smacked his shoulder and watched as he stepped away with a slight smile. “Alright. Fair. Let’s go color with the girl. But I want you here tonight, darlin’. Miss havin’ you in my bed.”
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I kissed the spot between his shoulder blades. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to, Milo. Just say the word.”
<<if $freecaliban == "true">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Free Caliban]]<<elseif $freecaliban == "false">>[[Chapter Ten|Chapter Ten - Betray Caliban]]<</if>>The lights were low in Hazel’s living room. A small string of lights brightened a corner of the kitchen before trailing along a lone vine into the living room. It provided a soft glow but nothing more. The house itself was quiet, holding its breath. Malcolm Albright was asleep in the other room, Hazel at his side. I had settled on the couch in front of a doused fire, waiting if I was needed.
“Dear heart, you should eat.”
Belladonna set a small plate of cheese and crackers in front of me, lowering herself down at my side. With black painted nails, she reached out, brushing her fingers against my temple.
“So many thoughts swirling in your head,” she whispered.
I leaned into the touch.
“I would like you to eat,” she said softly. “Replenish what you lost tonight.”
Everything had happened so quick. The smell of Kavatii’s blood still congealed in my nose, mingling with Hazel’s.
“Why didn’t she wait?” I asked.
Belladonna sighed. Leaning forward, she placed a square of cheese on the cracker and held it to my mouth. Dutifully, I ate. “Because Hazel Alright is the type of woman who does not get many opportunities in life. And tonight, she was done with that. So, she took what was presented to her.”
“She bled herself,” I protested around a mouthful of cracker. Belladonna looked at me disapprovingly but said nothing. It was clear it was the only pass I would receive on the matter.
“She brought back her brother,” she corrected. “There is a difference. Now eat.”
Belladonna sat, making sure that I ate the entire plate before going and getting me a warm mug of tea. It was odd to see her in Hazel’s inner sanctum. The patterned fabric that hung from the ceiling and the mismatched tile that lined her kitchen floor. It was the exact opposite of everything Belladonna was. The vibrant colors standing out starkly to the black she often wore and the crimson of her hair.
“What now?” I asked her.
“I suppose now we must wait for dear Malcolm to wake up. Perhaps he can shed light on our current situation.”
“No, I meant…” My words fell flat, my mind going blank. How did someone even address everything we had been through in the last twenty-four hours?
It wasn’t a problem, apparently, if you were Belladonna Malady. “Spit it out, dear heart.”
“I’m just still processing everything with the Kavatti incident,” I told her. It was a lot. A shift in power so suddenly, me blacking out after the dust settled, only to come home and find Hazel nearly dead downstairs. Flashes of the old Baron of the Mists being torn in two still flickered through my mind.
Belladonna sighed through her teeth. “I am sorry that you had to be involved. And I am sorry I did not try harder to keep you uninvolved. But, that is far easier for me to say now that we are on the other side of it and I have gotten what I wanted.”
“It’s just surreal,” I told her.
“Does it make you look at me any differently?”
[[No. Not really]]
[[I think you are a bit more unhinged than you have presented]]
[[I’m a bit more afraid of you]]“No. Not really.” I didn’t know why it would. Belladonna did not get to where she was without doing some underhanded things. I had not once thought her to be a morally upstanding individual. Not that I was really mourning the death of Kavatti as it was.
“Good,” she said. “It means you have a good head on your shoulders. That you don’t believe so readily everything you’ve been told.”
“Given the kind of world we live in, I think that might be dangerous.”
She arched a brow towards me. “We? You plan on staying then?”
“For the moment,” I told her honestly. “Maybe something could change but right now, I have no leads on who I was or where I was from and I’m starting to think it might be more likely that I lived here and just lost my memory somehow.”
“Possibly,” she said, though she sounded less than convinced.
[[Is there any way you can help now that you’re a Baron?]]
[[What does it mean now that you’re a Baron?]]
[[I thought Barons kept their secrets?]]“I think you might be a bit more unhinged than you have presented before,” I told her. For someone to sit back and plan a woman's death so meticulously like that, indicated a level of crazy that I hadn’t thought Belladonna to possess
“Thank you,” she said, preening a little.
“Is this what I should expect of you from now on or was this a one time thing?”
“I can tell you that I do not have anyone else waiting in the wings that I need to kill.” She paused, tipping her head to the side as if to cycle through her memories. “Not to the extent of Kavatti at least.”
"And your newfound role in the market?" I asked her. "Is there anything we should expect from that?"
"You do not need to expect anything," she told me. "I will handle this."
[[Is there any way you can help now that you’re a Baron?]]
[[What does it mean now that you’re a Baron?]]
[[I thought Barons kept their secrets?]]“I’m a bit more afraid of you now,” I told her. Knowing what she could potentially do and seeing what she was capable of, were suddenly two very different things. For years, she had planned this. She had sat back and meticulously orchestrated a death of a woman and then, when the opportunity presented itself, she threw herself on a path she knew would dead end with her and Kavatti in that chapel.
“I am a bit disheartened you think that,” she said seriously.
I lifted my gaze to hers. “How can I not? You tore someone apart in front of my eyes. You looked as if you were being torn apart yourself moments after.”
“The transfer of Baron power is not pleasant,” she said calmly.
“It’s just going to take some time,” I told her. “I’m sure things are about to change for you as well. What with the new Baron power.”
[[Is there any way you can help now that you’re a Baron?]]
[[What does it mean now that you’re a Baron?]]
[[I thought Barons kept their secrets?]]“Is there any way you can help all of this? Now that you’re a Baron, will it open up some new avenues?”
“There is a potential,” she said. “I will admit, that in all my research into Baronhood, there has really been no one Baron similar to another. And what they have access to vs. what the public has access to varies based on who you talk to.”
“But it might open some other avenues for us.” How could it not? We had been on a mission to find all the Barons, face them down and demand better of them. And now Belladonna was one.
“It will take time, dear heart. This is not a process that will simply happen overnight.” A fact that looked as if it vexed her. While Belladonna gave the illusion that she was a patient person, I was learning she was far from that, in fact. The line she must have had to walk in recent years with Kavatti must have irritated her to no end. Ever since the woman's blood spilled across the floor, I had been seeing a softness to Belladonna. As if the tension she had held so close for so long, was finally starting to bleed away.
[[Are you going to change how things are done?]]
[[Why the desire to be a Baron anyway?]]
[[Are you keeping your old job?]]
“What does it mean now that you’re a Baron?”
She tipped her head to the side, her hair failing like wine over the pale curve of her shoulder. “Does it have to mean anything different?”
I shrugged, unsure of how tonight even happened. It felt like the longest day of my life and yet I knew that these altering events took place in the span of a few minutes. “Will you sit with me?” I asked. “Just for a bit?”
“I’m already doing that,” she reminded me gently.
Her shoes were kicked off somewhere in the room, her feet curled beneath her. I realized then that Belladonna wasn’t going anywhere.
“There are a ton of rules that are in place for a Baron,” I said. “Isn’t that going to change your life?”
“Some things,” she said honestly. “There will be a shift in responsibility I suppose but none that I’m too concerned about. Really, my dealings will all stay the same, but perhaps just be in the public eye a bit more.”
[[Are you going to change how things are done?]]
[[Why the desire to be a Baron anyway?]]
[[Are you keeping your old job?]]“I thought Barons kept their secrets? How are you going to continue being in the public eye?”
“Barons keep their secrets because they are afraid,” she said. “I do not plan to live in the shadows or high above the populace, looking down upon the world. You think I’m in any more danger now than I was before? No, dear heart. If anything, the people trying to assassinate me now will be less adept. At least when it was subterfuge I knew only the individuals who were educated in the art of death would be at my door.”
“The fact that you say that so easily is a bit concerning.”
She shrugged, more relaxed than I had ever seen her. I wondered just how much the Kavatti situation had been hanging over her head. “It is the reality of my life, dear heart. Long ago I accepted it as one of the challenges I would have to face.”
[[Are you going to change how things are done?]]
[[Why the desire to be a Baron anyway?]]
“What’s the plan now?” I asked. “Are you going to change how things are done?”
“How do you mean?”
“With the Barons. With how things are conducted in the market. You should know above everyone else how messed up these so-called rules are.”
She blinked at me. It was something slow and assessing. Like she was unsure of how to even go about what I was proposing. Or at least, telling me about it. “I have often thought before how I would like to do things differently,” she said. “Though, I confess, now that I’m here, I don’t know where to begin. Though, perhaps it will be a show of trial and error.”
“I think you could change a lot of things.” Belladonna was a woman that people listened to. If given the chance, I had no doubt that she could make an actual difference within the market.
Reaching out, she coaxed me towards her until my head lay in her lap. I felt my heart thud in my chest as my cheek rested against the curve of her thigh.
“Does this excite you, my muse?” she asked. She leaned over me, fingers scratching against my scalp as her hair fell around us in a sweet smelling curtain. "Being with a woman such as me? Being with a Baron? The power it all holds."
[[I’d much rather find out what excites you]]
[[Everything you do excites me]]
[[Can I even lie to you?]]“Why did you want to become a Baron anyway? It sounds like a horrible position to hold.” I remembered her once saying she had wanted it before Kavatti. That Kavattii had stolen it from her somehow. I wondered who the previous Baron as and the events that surrounded the death they both apparently fought over. In the end, Kavatti had still lost. The two women were playing the same game, Belladonna had just been far more patient with it.
“Power,” she said simply. “I know that most probably have a reason. Some story or caveat to tell that explains why they would take someone's life or why they wish to lord over individuals. I am afraid mine is not that interesting, however. I simply wanted power.”
“What kind of power?”
“A silly kind,” she said with a sigh. Her smile was soft and bitter. “If I had power back when I was a girl, running from the burning depths of my home, then I could have saved so many others. Instead, my father had power. And it influenced others greatly. So, I want power, to prove that just because you have it, does not mean you have to use it.”
I frowned. “So you want power to not use power?”
“In a way,” she laughed.
“Sounds like there is a story to it after all.”
“Yes. I suppose there is.”
Reaching out, she coaxed me towards her until my head lay in her lap. I felt my heart thud in my chest as my cheek rested against the curve of her thigh.
“Does this excite you, my muse?” she asked. She leaned over me, fingers scratching against my scalp as her hair fell around us in a sweet smelling curtain. "Being with a woman such as me? Being with a Baron? The power it all holds."
[[I’d much rather find out what excites you]]
[[Everything you do excites me]]
[[Can I even lie to you?]]Belladonna was constantly in control. She played her clients like a fine-tuned instrument. Every move, every syllable she uttered, all of it was designed to provide pleasure and trust. To entrap. But I wanted to know how to do it all back to her. To twist her in such knots that she not only wanted me, but needed me. I wanted to see what Belladonna was like when the control slipped away and I was in charge.
“I would much rather find out what excites you,” I said.
Her lips curled at that, her gaze admonishing. “Oh, dear heart. That is adorable. But you excite me. Your pleasure brings me passion. You know this.”
“I think there is more,” I told her. She didn’t answer.
Walking her fingers down my chest, they stopped right at my navel, seeking out skin. “I don’t have time to take care of you tonight like I want to. Being a Baron is going to pull me away. At least for a bit while I prove to everyone that I am their rightful ruler over the likes of Kavatti. But I do have a little bit of time tonight. Is there anything you would like?”
The things that ran through my head all felt far too inappropriate given how our night was. I couldn’t imagine taking Bella back to my room and the idea itself felt almost childish. Like we were sneaking around beneath our parents roofs. But, I had a feeling it was just the suggestion that Belladonna wanted to implement. A way to get my mind spiraling elsewhere.
“How about,” she said softly. “We sit and talk. You can tell me the things that are spilling from your mind.”
“I was thinking more like a kiss,” I told her.
“Oh, $name. No. I will be holding that from you a bit longer.”
“Why?” I wanted to pretend it didn’t come out a whine.
“Because I enjoy the way you squirm. Now. Talk to me, my heart. Tell me what all is ailing you.”
[[Was showing me any kind of affection all a game to get to Kavatti?]]
[[What are we?]]
<<if $intervention == "true">>[[We need to talk about me intervening with Kavatti]]<</if>>“Everything you do excites me,” I told her in a breathless gasp. The smell of her, being surrounded by every inch of her, had me twisted in ways I couldn’t describe. I wanted to leave the world behind and let her wring every inch of pleasure from my body. I wanted to lie boneless on her bed and know only her touch.
“Well, then I will have to make a bit more time for you soon. See all the ways I can make you scream.”
I caught the groan that threatened to thrum through my body, amazed that she could do such a thing with a few simple words.
Walking her fingers down my chest, they stopped right at my navel, seeking out skin. “I don’t have time to take care of you tonight like I want to. Being a Baron is going to pull me away. At least for a bit while I prove to everyone that I am their rightful ruler over the likes of Kavatti. But I do have a little bit of time tonight. Is there anything you would like?”
The things that ran through my head all felt far too inappropriate given how our night was. I couldn’t imagine taking Bella back to my room and the idea itself felt almost childish. Like we were sneaking around beneath our parents roofs. But, I had a feeling it was just the suggestion that Belladonna wanted to implement. A way to get my mind spiraling elsewhere.
“How about,” she said softly. “We sit and talk. You can tell me the things that are spilling from your mind.”
“I was thinking more like a kiss,” I told her.
“Oh, $name. No. I will be holding that from you a bit longer.”
“Why?” I wanted to pretend it didn’t come out a whine.
“Because I enjoy the way you squirm. Now. Talk to me, my heart. Tell me what all is ailing you.”
[[Was showing me any kind of affection all a game to get to Kavatti?]]
[[What are we?]]
<<if $intervention == "true">>[[We need to talk about me intervening with Kavatti]]<</if>>“Is it possible to even lie to you?” I asked.
Her lips curled in pleasure. “I assure you it is very difficult for someone to do. You are certainly not adept at it, if that is what you are wondering. Now,” walking her fingers down my chest, they stopped right at my navel, seeking out skin. “I don’t have time to take care of you tonight like I want to. Being a Baron is going to pull me away. At least for a bit while I prove to everyone that I am their rightful ruler over the likes of Kavatti. But I do have a little bit of time tonight. Is there anything you would like?”
The things that ran through my head all felt far too inappropriate given how our night was. I couldn’t imagine taking Bella back to my room and the idea itself felt almost childish. Like we were sneaking around beneath our parents roofs. But, I had a feeling it was just the suggestion that Belladonna wanted to implement. A way to get my mind spiraling elsewhere.
“How about,” she said softly. “We sit and talk. You can tell me the things that are spilling from your mind.”
“I was thinking more like a kiss,” I told her.
“Oh, $name. No. I will be holding that from you a bit longer.”
“Why?” I wanted to pretend it didn’t come out a whine.
“Because I enjoy the way you squirm. Now. Talk to me, my heart. Tell me what all is ailing you.”
[[Was showing me any kind of affection all a game to get to Kavatti?]]
[[What are we?]]
<<if $intervention == "true">>[[We need to talk about me intervening with Kavatti]]<</if>>“Were you only showing me affection to get to Kavatti?”
She froze, my words taking her off guard. It wasn't often that I saw Belladonna at a loss. The only other time I had seen her come close to it was when dealing with Elias. But this left her motionless. Her face sculpting into the mask of poise. But I could see in her eyes how the words hurt.
“No, my heart. No. Of course not.”
“You needed me to get to her,” I pointed out. “You–”
“Hated that you had to come,” she snapped. “There was not a single moment where I thought to myself, ‘let me use this sweet soul’. In matters of Kavatti, I would have preferred no one be involved. I did not want you there, $name. Having you there made me weaker in her eyes. She looked at me and saw not a woman to be feared but someone compromising her own morals in order to do what you wanted.”
I startled at that, pulling away from her. “Who cares if she saw you as weak?”
“I care,” she nearly shouted. “Whether her opinion matters or not, I care.”
“Mattered.”
“What?”
I reached out, running my hand down her arm. “Mattered. Past tense. She’s dead.”
Something shifted in her gaze. It had been said out loud at least a dozen times but she had been in control of those moments. She had been the one to design them. This one had caught her off guard.
“She was your friend,” I told her gently. “And now she’s dead.”
Her head dipped down, lashes sweeping the tops of her cheeks. “Sometimes, even if you care for someone, their life is still a waste of breath.”
I felt my heart beat wildly, pounding against my chest. She was so close. Despite being in Hazel's home and a nearly dead man in the other room, my fingers itched to pull her to me.
"Now, I really must be going," she said, a wicked smile curling against her lips.
[[Next|Bella Interlude end]]“What exactly are we now? You tell me I need to pay for your time and yet my head is in your lap.” Her breasts were also spilling from her top and her fingers were running suggestively over my skin. “You told me your heart, the one capable of love, had burned with your people and yet you act as if you wish for me to care for you. That you care for me. Am I misreading things? I don’t understand.”
“No,” she said softly. “I don’t suppose you would.” Shifting until she was a bit more comfortable, she angled her body so it leaned into the corner of the couch, pulling me upwards until my head rested against her breast.
“I said what I said to you because at the time I had shut myself off from everything and everyone. Not because I felt as if I was undeserving or I didn’t have the required capacity for what was asked of me. But because I didn’t feel it. Then you came along. And your blood burned. It called to me. But there was nothing that was going to get in the way of my plans with Kavatti. Dear heart, when I say tonight was more than a decade in the making, I do mean more than a decade. Kavatti humiliated me. Degraded me. She twisted me into something that I hated and I barely made it out of her service. But on top of that, she took what was rightfully mine.”
“I understand.”
“The moment you entered my office, I knew you were mine. But, I could not afford to tell you such. Not at the cost that would come from it.”
“Were you afraid that Kavatti would use me?”
“She would have. There is no fear in knowledge. Only the ability to change course. Which is what I did.”
“So you pushed me away for protection.”
“I pushed you away because I did not wish to be distracted. And you,” she leaned down, her lips whispered against my own. “Are very distracting.”
I inched forward unconsciously but she curled her fingers around my neck, pushing me back down. “No, my heart. I already told you. Not tonight.”
My heart was pounding. “So I’m no longer a distraction because a distraction isn’t a thing anymore,” I said. “So what does that makes me?”
She cupped my cheek before grabbing my chin and craning my neck backwards to meet her eyes. “Mine.”
I melted.
"Now, I really must be going," she said, a wicked smile curling against her lips.
[[Next|Bella Interlude end]]“We are going to have to talk about what happened there,” I started quietly. So much had happened in that moment. She almost had not come back to me. As time had passed, I was becoming very aware that I had almost lost her. The magic that had passed through her had nearly shredded her apart. I had felt it pulse through the room and lash at my own body.
“We should,” she said simply. “Don’t undermine me like that again.”
“Wait. What?”
“Undermine me,” she repeated. “I told you before even entering that room that you needed to follow my lead. Yet, you caved at the first provocation from Kavatti.”
“You were going to go back to her,” I said slowly, finding myself in a state of disbelief. “I was not about to let that happen.”
“And I wasn’t about to let that happen either,” Belladonna huffed. “I would rather die than kneel at her feet again. I thought I made that clear.”
[[I’m sorry|Belladonna interlude I'm sorry]]
[[I would not have allowed you to kneel]]
[[You don’t make much clear, Belladonna]]“I was not going to allow you to kneel,” I told her firmly. “I don’t care that it was all a part of your plan. I really don’t care if you thought it was a good idea. I care about you and the last thing I was going to do was have you demoralize yourself.”
“That,” she hissed, “was not your choice.”
I nodded in agreement, refusing to rise to her tone. “Respectfully, I did make a decision without your knowledge. Just as you took me to the Baron and into a situation I did not understand.”
“Those two things are not mutually exclusive.”
“To you,” I said simply. Reaching forward, I placed my hand on her own. “We can argue about this if you want, but in the end, it did all work out in the way you needed it to. In the way I needed it to. It may not have been perfect but we are here. We are both relatively safe.”
“Of course you are safe,” she said.
“But you are as well,” I commented. Belladonna rarely talked about herself. She did not allow others to care for her. I was beginning to realize that if we were about to move forward with our feelings, she was about to enter territory that was far too unfamiliar.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. I knew the amount of danger I could have put the two of us in with my actions. Seeing her that way, however, knowing that she was sacrificing herself for me. It was just not something I could stand. I should have known that it wasn’t the truth of the matter and that she had more up her sleeve. But the last thing I had wanted was to take the risk and let Belladonna go back to Kavatti’s side. The very idea of it made my stomach twist in revulsion.
“You should be sorry,” she said, an edge to her voice.
“I am. I really am. At the time I thought– well, I’m not sure what I thought. But your words weren’t what was going through my mind. The only thing I could think about was keeping you safe.”
The fierceness that had clouded her voice all but faded at that. I could see it in the way her body slumped and she took in the remorse of my words. Sighing, she closed her eyes and I thought for certain she was counting to ten.
“I understand. I do not appreciate it, but I do understand.”
“You don’t make a lot of things clear, Belladonna.” For a woman who prided herself on knowledge, she guarded it close to her chest. Refusing to share what she knew until she was absolutely certain that she was speaking the full truth. Kavatti was a good example of that.
“I told you,” she said. “I told you that it could get complicated. That Kavatti manipulates. But what did you do? Fall for it. Immediately. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book and yet you acted as if the world was ending after a few minutes of pressure. Excuse the irony.”
I sighed, taking a deep breath and holding it in my lungs for a few beats. “It would have helped to have more information going into that,” I told her. Not for the first time either. “All that happens when these secrets are kept, is misinformation. I’m going to act if I think it's necessary. And at that moment, it looked necessary. You looked defeated.”
Belladonna rolled her eyes. “Please, I am not going to let such a little bottom feeder defeat me. I was playing the part. A game, dear heart. That is what I do and I am quite good at it.”
I had seen that first hand.
[[Doesn’t matter. I will always step in the way if I think you’re going to get hurt]]
[[I panicked. I didn’t want that happening to you]]
[[I’m sorry but I’m not at the same time]]
“It doesn’t matter,” I told her. “When it comes to you I will always step in the way if I think you’re going to get hurt. I’ll be that wall if I have to.”
“I must insist that you don’t,” she said drolly, though I could see the panic behind her eyes. At least she believed that I would do it.
“Belladonna, you are many things. Capable. Strong. More beautiful than I could ever have imagined. But I am many things as well. And I am coming to learn that one of those things is that I can not stand by while the people I care for are being hurt. I know you don’t like it, but it’s not up for discussion between you and I. I will always try to protect you.”
Her eyes remained sharp but I could tell they were threatening to soften around the edges. She would never admit it, but someone standing up for her touched her in a way that she didn’t often receive.
“Well, it is not a point to discuss further, I suppose. We will not be in that situation ever again.”
<<if $bite == "true">> I cleared my throat a little. “There’s some parts of that I wouldn’t mind repeating.”
For a moment, she looked at me confused. Out of the chaos that had surrounded us in that moment, there was not a lot that either of us wanted to repeat. Except for that moment. Where her lips pulled at my pulse and her hand clenched at my chest.
“Did you enjoy that?” she asked, eyes dark and heated.
“It was not what I was expecting,” I told her.
Slowly, she stepped forward, hips swaying. “Because I liked it,” she said. “I nearly couldn’t stop. I felt my desire pushing me further and further, wanting nothing more than to sip at your neck.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Kavatti was not going to be witness to that. When I bite you, I want to lay next to you. I want us to be free of the trappings of our clothes, curled together while I suck from you. When I take a sip of you, my heart, I want it to last forever.”
I didn’t know when I had leaned forward. When her fingers curled against my throat, feeling my pulse. At some point, my lips were close to hers, breathing in her words and drinking them like wine.
“Do you want that $name?” she asked. “Do you want me?”
“Yes.”
Leaning down, she licked at the seam of my lips, her own brushing against mine. “Then we shall make that happen. Soon.”
Pushing away, she brushed her hair over her shoulder, looking around the room and waving the bits of vines that had come closer in speculation. I sat there numbly, feeling my heart begin to calm.<</if>>
“Now,” she said, “I really must be going.”
[[Next|Bella Interlude end]]“I panicked,” I admitted. “The entire situation seems like some sort of fever dream now but I do know that at that moment, I couldn’t imagine you being in service to her. The actual idea of it made me so angry that I thought I might just fight her myself.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” she said with a bit of shock. Most people Belladonna surrounded herself with didn’t tend to go against her wishes. Walking up and fighting Kavatti on Belladonna’s behalf would have gotten me killed. But it certainly would have been unexpected.
“I just don’t like seeing you like that,” I told her. “I don’t like people trying to take advantage of you or manipulating you. You deserve more.”
Her eyes remained sharp but I could tell they were threatening to soften around the edges. She would never admit it, but someone standing up for her touched her in a way that she didn’t often receive.
“Well, it is not a point to discuss further, I suppose. We will not be in that situation ever again.”
<<if $bite == "true">> I cleared my throat a little. “There’s some parts of that I wouldn’t mind repeating.”
For a moment, she looked at me confused. Out of the chaos that had surrounded us in that moment, there was not a lot that either of us wanted to repeat. Except for that moment. Where her lips pulled at my pulse and her hand clenched at my chest.
“Did you enjoy that?” she asked, eyes dark and heated.
“It was not what I was expecting,” I told her.
Slowly, she stepped forward, hips swaying. “Because I liked it,” she said. “I nearly couldn’t stop. I felt my desire pushing me further and further, wanting nothing more than to sip at your neck.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Kavatti was not going to be witness to that. When I bite you, I want to lay next to you. I want us to be free of the trappings of our clothes, curled together while I suck from you. When I take a sip of you, my heart, I want it to last forever.”
I didn’t know when I had leaned forward. When her fingers curled against my throat, feeling my pulse. At some point, my lips were close to hers, breathing in her words and drinking them like wine.
“Do you want that $name?” she asked. “Do you want me?”
“Yes.”
Leaning down, she licked at the seam of my lips, her own brushing against mine. “Then we shall make that happen. Soon.”
Pushing away, she brushed her hair over her shoulder, looking around the room and waving the bits of vines that had come closer in speculation. I sat there numbly, feeling my heart begin to calm.<</if>>
“Now,” she said, “I really must be going.”
[[Next|Bella Interlude end]]“I’m sorry that you felt like I stepped on your toes,” I started. “And I know that I probably risked your plan–”
“You most definitely risks my plan.”
“But I will not apologize for standing up for you,” I said firmly. “You are a powerful woman and you have handled most of your life by yourself. I think you are used to people not standing up for you. But I wasn’t going to stand by like a doormat and let that woman continue on the way she was.”
Her eyes remained sharp but I could tell they were threatening to soften around the edges. She would never admit it, but someone standing up for her touched her in a way that she didn’t often receive.
“Well, it is not a point to discuss further, I suppose. We will not be in that situation ever again.”
<<if $bite == "true">> I cleared my throat a little. “There’s some parts of that I wouldn’t mind repeating.”
For a moment, she looked at me confused. Out of the chaos that had surrounded us in that moment, there was not a lot that either of us wanted to repeat. Except for that moment. Where her lips pulled at my pulse and her hand clenched at my chest.
“Did you enjoy that?” she asked, eyes dark and heated.
“It was not what I was expecting,” I told her.
Slowly, she stepped forward, hips swaying. “Because I liked it,” she said. “I nearly couldn’t stop. I felt my desire pushing me further and further, wanting nothing more than to sip at your neck.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Kavatti was not going to be witness to that. When I bite you, I want to lay next to you. I want us to be free of the trappings of our clothes, curled together while I suck from you. When I take a sip of you, my heart, I want it to last forever.”
I didn’t know when I had leaned forward. When her fingers curled against my throat, feeling my pulse. At some point, my lips were close to hers, breathing in her words and drinking them like wine.
“Do you want that $name?” she asked. “Do you want me?”
“Yes.”
Leaning down, she licked at the seam of my lips, her own brushing against mine. “Then we shall make that happen. Soon.”
Pushing away, she brushed her hair over her shoulder, looking around the room and waving the bits of vines that had come closer in speculation. I sat there numbly, feeling my heart begin to calm.<</if>>
“Now,” she said, “I really must be going.”
[[Next|Bella Interlude end]]Reese was far better a cook than he had any right to be. After dinner, I sat in the living room, leaning back on a black leather sofa with my eyes half closed. Gabriel was in the kitchen washing the dishes, leaving the virtual stranger to sit with me. During dinner, he had been loud and boisterous, clapping Gabriel on the back and smiling jovially. I could see the way his fingers twitched towards his side. As if he were trying to reach for a weapon. And now, he sat, booted feet propped up on the table, staring at me.
“So you and my son, huh. Didn’t think that would be a thing.”
I raised a brow towards him. “I’m not sure we’re really a //thing//.”
“You are,” he said. “Or you will be. He mentioned you by name and everything the last time I saw him. Means he likes you.”
That sounded like Gabriel. The meager mentioning of who I was, was odd enough for someone to take note of. I didn’t know whether the notion endeared me to the man or if I just pitied how uneventful his life was.
Then again, if someone like the dollmaker was my adoptive father, uneventful might be exactly what I strive for too.
“How do you feel about him?”
[[I’m coming to care for him]]
[[Him and I have had our differences]]
[[I might be insane because I’m sticking around]]“I’m coming to care for him,” I said honestly. “I can’t say it’s been the easiest beginning but I am trying to see more than what he presents to the world.”
Reese snorted in laughter. “Boy do I remember that. Celestials are something else. Understand next to nothing. Take everything quite literal. And get confused in the face of almost any emotion. You got your work cut out for you if you are going to be with that man in there.” He looked over his shoulder, however, eyes lingering on Gabriel’s broad form. “He’ll be worth it though. He’s a good man. Loyal man.” The pride was clear in his voice.
I felt myself sink further back into the leather of Gabriel’s couch, in the home of a man who made me come and file paperwork to work off some sort of bail. By all intents and purposes, I should have hated him. The first opportunity I had, I should have found the nearest blunt instrument, and stabbed him.
But I hadn’t.
Instead, I had watched the horror show of his life play out before me and wandered back to his house with him to eat a meal cooked by his other father. The one that was supposed to be dead.
I pressed my fingers into my eyes, feeling the headache start all over again.
[[How did you get Mr. Billows to work for you]]
[[You’re a Baron]]
[[Why aren’t you dead?]]“We’ve had our differences,” I said. As one of the very first people I had met in the market, the start to whatever was growing between us had not exactly been ideal. <<if $pits == "true">>The man had looked at me with no compassion as we had walked down to the pits. He hadn’t even blinked when I had expressed my horror.<</if>>
“Differences. That’s a kind word.”
It really was, considering. But I saw no point in airing our disagreements over the market to a man I barely knew.
I felt myself sink further back into the leather of Gabriel’s couch, in the home of a man who made me come and file paperwork to work off some sort of bail. By all intents and purposes, I should have hated him. The first opportunity I had, I should have found the nearest blunt instrument, and stabbed him.
But I hadn’t.
Instead, I had watched the horror show of his life play out before me and wandered back to his house with him to eat a meal cooked by his other father. The one that was supposed to be dead.
I pressed my fingers into my eyes, feeling the headache start all over again.
[[How did you get Mr. Billows to work for you]]
[[You’re a Baron]]
[[Why aren’t you dead?]]“I think I might be a bit mad,” I confessed. “I mean, who even hangs around the guy that stained your wrists with magical manacles and tried to pawn you off to flesh traders?”
Reese hissed in sympathy. “Rocky start. Kind of romantic though.”
“How?”
“I’d say it’s romantic because normally, my boy doesn’t fail. If he wanted to pawn you off to the flesh traders, as you say, he would have done so. But with you, he failed. Bit interesting, that.”
I felt myself sink further back into the leather of Gabriel’s couch, in the home of a man who made me come and file paperwork to work off some sort of bail. By all intents and purposes, I should have hated him. The first opportunity I had, I should have found the nearest blunt instrument, and stabbed him.
But I hadn’t.
Instead, I had watched the horror show of his life play out before me and wandered back to his house with him to eat a meal cooked by his other father. The one that was supposed to be dead.
I pressed my fingers into my eyes, feeling the headache start all over again.
[[How did you get Mr. Billows to work for you]]
[[You’re a Baron]]
[[Why aren’t you dead?]]“How did you do it?” I asked as I continued to stare at him. I kept my voice low, as if trying to hide our conversation from anyone lurking outside these walls. “How did you get Mr. Billows to work for you?”
The roar of laughter from Reese was enough for Gabriel to peek his head out from inside the kitchen. “I forgot that I put the ring on Billows.” The Baron ring. The one that Billows had woken me up with one morning with no explanation. I was sitting in front of a Baron, like I had a dozen times before, and yet this one felt far different from all the others.
“Sorry about that,” he said with a small chuckle. “I’m not really one to advertise any of this stuff and I really didn’t want the questions, so I thought it best to put it on Billows.”
“You thought it best to attach a powerful ring to a cat? A ring you haven’t even gotten back?”
“Keep it,” he said. “I don’t want it. And as for the cat thing? The cats do a lot in this market. Far more than anyone gives them credit for.”
“They are your spies,” Gabriel said from the kitchen.
Amusement colored Reese’s cheek. “No. Of course they’re not. That would be crazy talk, Gabriel.” Leaning forward, he nodded. “They are absolutely my spies. Watch the alley cats. They’re always observing. Never share a secret around them.”
I really had no clue if the man was having me on at this point but I knew without a doubt, I’d be watching Billows closer.
Standing, Reese smiled before hollering out towards the kitchen. “Gabriel, gonna head home now. You need me to kill anything on the way?”
“If you dare kill anything, I will arrest you.”
“Funny how you won't be able to do that, actually.” Grabbing his jacket, he tipped his head towards me. “Nice to meet you, $name. Don’t repeat my name in the market.”
And with that he was gone.
I sat on the sofa alone for a few minutes before pushing myself upwards and going to Gabriel in the kitchen. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands dipped in the water. The tension had bled from his shoulders as the night when on but I knew what he had seen was still weighing on him.
“Do you want to talk?” I asked. Grabbing a towel, I began drying the plates. Reese somehow made a mess, despite only cooking steak and vegetables.
“Is there something particular you would like to talk about?”
[[Reese]]
[[What we witnessed]]
[[How this all affects him]]“You’re a Baron.” It was a statement I had been contemplating saying out loud from the moment I made the connection. Gabriel must have known. The ring had come to me so simply and as far as I knew, was still in Hazel’s possession.
“We don’t really say that one out loud,” he said. While he was smiling at me, the picture of relaxation, I could hear the tightness in his voice.
“So, Gabriel’s two adoptive fathers are both Barons?”
“Guess I never thought of it that way,” Reese said with a shrug. “Greatness rises from greatness. Or some shitty thing like that.”
“If you’re a Baron–”
“You really like saying that word.”
“Can’t you help us? Do something about the market dying?”
“I did it,” he stated. “About all I can do. Otherwise, I’m going to take care of me and my own. It’s up to you all now.”
“Yes, but–”
Standing, Reese smiled before hollering out towards the kitchen. “Gabriel, gonna head home now. You need me to kill anything on the way?”
“If you dare kill anything, I will arrest you.”
“Funny how you won't be able to do that, actually.” Grabbing his jacket, he tipped his head towards me. “Nice to meet you, $name. Don’t repeat my name in the market.”
And with that he was gone.
I sat on the sofa alone for a few minutes before pushing myself upwards and going to Gabriel in the kitchen. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands dipped in the water. The tension had bled from his shoulders as the night when on but I knew what he had seen was still weighing on him.
“Do you want to talk?” I asked. Grabbing a towel, I began drying the plates. Reese somehow made a mess, despite only cooking steak and vegetables.
“Is there something particular you would like to talk about?”
[[Reese]]
[[What we witnessed]]
[[How this all affects him]]“Why aren’t you dead?” I asked. It was blurted out before I could even stop myself.
“Because I’m not,” he said.
“But that man, Elias, he thinks you are dead. He has an entire painting, a //human// painting, dedicated to you.”
If Reese knew or not, he didn’t say. Just stared at me steady. “And that’s exactly the way that he will continue to remember me,” he said tightly. Standing, he smiled very thinly before hollering out towards the kitchen. “Gabriel, gonna head home now. You need me to kill anything on the way?”
“If you dare kill anything, I will arrest you.”
“Funny how you won't be able to do that, actually.” Grabbing his jacket, he tipped his head towards me. “Nice to meet you, $name. Don’t repeat my name in the market.”
And with that he was gone.
I sat on the sofa alone for a few minutes before pushing myself upwards and going to Gabriel in the kitchen. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands dipped in the water. The tension had bled from his shoulders as the night when on but I knew what he had seen was still weighing on him.
“Do you want to talk?” I asked. Grabbing a towel, I began drying the plates. Reese somehow made a mess, despite only cooking steak and vegetables.
“Is there something particular you would like to talk about?”
[[Reese]]
[[What we witnessed]]
[[How this all affects him]]“Reese,” I said plainly.
Gabriel’s shoulders tensed. “There is not a lot I wish to share about Reese.”
His words were chosen carefully while his eyes remained suspiciously forward. “Why?” I asked. If I could just understand his relationship with both Elias and Reese, maybe this would make sense. But what I had seen today was disturbing at best and to then have Reese here, a Baron that was also connected to Gabriel, felt like a revelation that needed more than just a passing note.
“I should rephrase. There is not a lot I //can// share about Reese. He is a Baron but more than that, he is a man that has a right to his own privacy. I have known him for many years now and I can safely say he has never been an individual that has been easy to get to know.”
I nodded. “And I’m assuming that you didn’t tell me that the ring we received from Mr. Billows was his because you couldn’t.”
Shifting his weight from foot to foot, the discomfort he felt over the situation with Reese showed in every line of his body. It was different from the discomfort he had with Elias. This one was harder to talk about, for some reason. He seemed far more closed lipped when it came to the subject of the Harbormaster. “I didn’t know he was going to go about it in such a way. I came to him and let him know we would be seeking out the Barons because I knew he would not want to be found. I thought it would be kinder to give him the opportunity to meet on his own terms. Or at least hand over what we needed without the fanfare.”
“You could have said something,” I told him.
<<if $pits == "true">>”Not without compromising his position,” Gabriel said. “You and I have not been on friendly terms until recently, $name. Please forgive my misgivings on the entirety of the matter.”
I guess I really couldn’t fault him there. I don’t know how much of an explanation I would have listened to coming from him.<</if>>
“I need you to understand something.” Setting aside the dishes, Gabriel dried his hands. “Reese and Elias were all I knew when I came to the market. They were the family that kept me from falling into the madness. I owe them my life, $name. And I do wish to protect them. Sometimes, that protection comes with a cost.”
“Is that cost the compromise of your morals?” I asked.
“Reese has not done anything to compromise my morals.”
“You know he is not who I am referring to.”
“But we are talking on the subject of Reese.”
I sighed. I couldn’t tell if he was being purposefully obtuse or not. Either way, I geared myself back to the subject we had agreed upon. “Why is he pretending to be dead?”
“Because it is safer that way.” Closing his eyes, Gabriel tightened his hands in fists. “Please, $name. I don’t think I can talk about this. Not after tonight.” Not after Elias was what he really meant to say.
[[You cannot let that continue]]
[[Have you tried talking to Elias about what he is doing?]]
[[Is this what the Knowing has taught you and him?]]
“I want to talk about what we saw,” I told him. There was not a single moment at that estate that I didn’t feel uncomfortable. That Gabriel was not entirely on edge. The things going on behind those pristine gates was fuel for nightmares. To know that they were all there willingly made my gut twist. Somehow that man had manipulated people into thinking that what he could offer was a better life. When it was clear, the repentance he claimed to give them was nothing more than glorified torture.
“I do not wish to speak of it,” he told me firmly.
“Gabriel, you are the Warden. How can you stand by what is being done there?”
“He is a Baron, in case you have forgotten. What am I supposed to do? I cannot arrest him.”
“But would you if you could?” His hands were paused in the water, his expression stern. “Because I’m really not sure you would, even though you speak about upholding the safety of the market.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” he whispered.
Drying my hands, I pulled his out of the water and ran the towel across his fingers. “I’m sure it is,” I told him softly. “But that doesn’t mean you can just ignore what is going on there.”
His eyes closed, blocking the pain that he so desperately wanted to ignore. “I need a minute,” he said. “Just give me a minute to think.” I nodded, pulling away. His fingers twitched anxiously upon separation. Closing his eyes, Gabriel tightened his hands in fists. “Please, $name. I don’t think I can talk about this. Not after tonight.” Not after Elias was what he really meant to say.
[[You cannot let that continue]]
[[Have you tried talking to Elias about what he is doing?]]
[[Is this what the Knowing has taught you and him?]]
“How this is all effecting you?” Pushing him was not what I wanted to do after tonight. I couldn’t imagine being connected to such heinous actions. Especially given that he was the Warden of the market, meant to protect the world at large from evil. But at the end of the day, Gabriel was also just a man. One who had seen his father spiral into the pits of insanity with no control over his actions.
“I’m not unused to this, $name,” he said after a long moment. “Elias has been this way for a time.”
“Is it the madness?”
“Yes. He was able to stave it off for a lot of years but after Reese’s death it became too much.”
“But–”
“I know,” he said. “It is a very long story $name. I don’t think it is one I am ready to go into tonight.”
“That’s alright. I really am more concerned about you.”
“I am–”
“I urge you not to say that you are alright.”
His mouth snapped shut.
Finishing up the dishes, I dried and put them away upon his direction. He cleaned up the sink, draining the water and hanging up a few hand towels. Gabriel’s kitchen was like the rest of his place. Devoid of personality and ridiculously tidy. The countertops had nothing on it and if I were to just walk into his place, I would think no one lived here. It was far more a showroom than it was a place of residence.
“I’m unsure how to feel after seeing all of that. I avoid Elias’s estate as much as I can. I have not gone to visit for some time. And while I see Reese, I see him only occasionally as he prefers to live a solitary existence.”
[[You cannot let that continue]]
[[Have you tried talking to Elias about what he is doing?]]
[[Is this what the Knowing has taught you and him?]]
“You cannot let what is happening at Elias’s continue,” I told him firmly. “Elias may be able to spin that those people are there on their own free will but you know that they are not.”
“They walked into that estate, $name. They signed a contract with him.”
“Even the ones in the flesh pits? The ones he had bought?”
I could see the uncomfortable shift in him. His mind wished to come up with a way to justify those actions but as of late, they had started to sound weak even to his own ears.
“Gabriel,” I urged. “It is not free will if a person has nowhere else to turn in life. Elias should not be the answer to someone's survival. This purification thing he is doing makes no one happy. It is making them scared and complacent because they are so lost in life that they feel they either deserve to be punished, or punishment is the only way to their salvation.”
“You do not know of what you speak,” he growled softly.
“Don’t I?” I asked with a raised brow. “You don’t think I have felt lost? That I haven’t been willing to throw myself at anything because staying stagnant felt far scarier? <<if $pits == "true">> Do you really think that I cannot identify with the ones that thought they would die in that pit? Or how about the people so desperate to get out that they made any deal they could not to go back to that place?<</if>> I know at least some of what those people are going through, Gabriel. And even if you don’t, as someone meant to protect the market, you cannot just turn your back on this.”
The room grew quiet. Despite the rows of houses outside, the street Gabriel lived on was deathly quiet.
“I apologize,” he said softly. “I know that what you saw today was a shock. And I am not condoning it. I am concerned about you in this moment and would rather speak of that than me.”
[[Eventually you are going to have to speak of you]]
[[I want to put a stop to what is happening|Gabriel interlude I want to put a stop]]
[[Our hands are tied. For now]]“Have you ever tried talking to Elias? About what he is doing?” I broached the subject carefully, aware that I was playing with fire to even bring up such a thing. Gabriel didn’t look combative tonight, however. If anything, he just looked exhausted.
“A few times,” he confessed. “Especially during the early years of him being Baron. It was far worse then. In ways that I will not be going into. And I was able to tone him down after his power settled. It was rooted in a lot of old beliefs and compounded by what he perceived as Reese’s death.” Leaning forward, he buried his face in his hand, nails digging into the side of his scalp. “It has been so hard to reach him, $name. The man he was compared to the man he is now is just– I don’t even recognize him, to be honest.”
“Hurting people in the name of a deity is not right.”
The bitterness that I could see lace through Gabriel’s shoulders told me that it wasn’t an excuse. It was simply how things had always been done. That, on its own, was far worse.
“I can try to speak with him again,” he said quietly. “For you. For them. Perhaps I need to make my presence known at the estate more. Elias has been alone for a long time. I just couldn’t stomach to sit at that table with him. Not only because I didn’t want to see how far he had fallen but also because I felt like a hypocrite when comforting him about Reese.”
The room grew quiet. Despite the rows of houses outside, the street Gabriel lived on was deathly quiet.
“I apologize,” he said softly. “I know that what you saw today was a shock. And I am not condoning it. I am concerned about you in this moment and would rather speak of that than me.”
[[Eventually you are going to have to speak of you]]
[[I want to put a stop to what is happening|Gabriel interlude I want to put a stop]]
[[Our hands are tied. For now]]“Is this the work of the Knowing?” There were similarities with the two of them. Ways in which both Gabriel and Elias did not seem to realize how skewed their morality was. I knew nothing about the Knowing but I did have to wonder if this was a byproduct of such teachings. Especially given that the two of them had been cast aside due to imperfection.
“No,” Gabriel said firmly, shutting the line of questioning down. “The Knowing is love and comfort. It is the ability to do good in the world. It requires loyalty and respect and does hold all the brethren to a high standard. But what Elias is doing is not because of the Knowing. For the Knowing perhaps, but not because of the Knowing.”
“And you?” I asked him. “What about the things you do in the market? The things you uphold?” The flesh trade, the auction blocks, the papers used as an excuse for ‘order’.
He looked at me in mild irritation. “I have had this conversation with you before. I am trying to keep the market safe, but there are various types of people here. There are–”
I held up my hand, stopping him. “I was simply curious about the Knowing. I am trying to understand.” I also knew that no conversation where Gabriel began on the defensive, was going to be productive. And after the day we both had, I wasn’t sure how much I could expect out of him.
The room grew quiet. Despite the rows of houses outside, the street Gabriel lived on was deathly quiet.
“I apologize,” he said softly. “I know that what you saw today was a shock. And I am not condoning it. I am concerned about you in this moment and would rather speak of that than me.”
[[Eventually you are going to have to speak of you]]
[[I want to put a stop to what is happening|Gabriel interlude I want to put a stop]]
[[Our hands are tied. For now]]“Eventually, you are going to have to speak of you,” I told him. Unpacking the family dynamics that I wasn’t sure I even understood was going to be a process that I was almost certain he did not know how to face. I wouldn’t push him tonight, but there would be a day that he would have to step forward and look his demons in the eye. I only hoped it would not break him in the end.
“I am unaccustomed to that,” he confessed. “Where I am from, our thoughts and feelings are not ones that we take into consideration. I did not even know I could have an individual thought or feeling until I was here.”
“That’s horrible,” I told him. And it was certainly something we would need to address much later. It also explained a lot about Elias.
“I will have to take your word on that,” he told me sadly.
When his arm wrapped around my shoulder, I felt a shudder of surprise. It hadn’t been what I expected, especially after today. But Gabriel’s arm wrapped around me and with a gentle pressure, he pulled me near.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly. “You had many opportunities to not be here with me tonight. Yet, you are. I appreciate that.”
Reaching up, I put my hand upon his. “I’m glad I came.” Not for what I saw, but so he didn’t have to do it alone. “And I’m glad I got the opportunity to meet Reese.”
“I’m not.”
“He is a good cook,” I laughed.
“He’s a know-it-all that is detrimental to society and has far too many cats.”
I craned my head upwards, raising a brow at him. Gabriel sighed.
“But he is a good man.”
“There is that.” Leaning into him, I felt myself begin to relax. “Do you want me to stay here tonight?”
“More than anything,” he said in a quick rush. “If only to sit here for the night.”
“The bed would be more comfortable.”
“I do not have a bed,” he said. “When I am here I sleep on the couch.”
I twisted in his arms. “Okay, we are going shopping for necessities the first chance we get. How do you not even have a bed? That’s like the most basic–” A smile was twisted his lips. “You’re messing with me.”
“I am,” he said rather pleased with himself.
Rolling my eyes, I leaned back into him, feeling my face hot. Though, I was finding I liked this side of him. I wanted to know more of it. And after tonight, I didn’t think there was much more that could surprise me.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]“I can’t just pretend like I didn’t see what I did today,” I told him. Going back to Hazel’s and forgetting about Elias’s was not an option. Thinking of the woman with the bleeding feet. Hearing the way she cried. Every inch of me wanted to go back there and steal her and the rest of them away. Leave the broken celestial crying and alone in his marble house, the picture of his dead lover dismantled.
“He is a Baron,” Gabriel repeated for what felt like the dozenth time.
“So you can’t arrest him. I certainly can do something though.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, I saw the muscle in his jaw twitch. “I would appreciate it if you would not do anything rash.”
“Why?”
“Because you could get hurt,” he growled. “You think a man like that doesn’t have measures in place? Do you think today would have ended the same if I had not been there to stop it? He doesn’t listen to anyone. The only one that could have done anything in this situation would have been Reese but–”
But that was a story he was refusing to tell.
“Gabriel, there are people there that are being tortured. Hurt. I can’t just sit back like that is normal.”
“Elias is not our mission for the moment. Our job is saving the market first. We do not need to divert our attentions.”
There was a part of me that wished to argue. The life that I saw in tatters today was more immediate. I wanted to help them because I knew how. I didn’t know how to help the market. But I could save them.
At the same time, Gabriel was right. Saving them would be a moot point if the market cracked in two.
When his arm wrapped around my shoulder, I felt a shudder of surprise. It hadn’t been what I expected, especially after today. But Gabriel’s arm wrapped around me and with a gentle pressure, he pulled me near.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly. “You had many opportunities to not be here with me tonight. Yet, you are. I appreciate that.”
Reaching up, I put my hand upon his. “I’m glad I came.” Not for what I saw, but so he didn’t have to do it alone. “And I’m glad I got the opportunity to meet Reese.”
“I’m not.”
“He is a good cook,” I laughed.
“He’s a know-it-all that is detrimental to society and has far too many cats.”
I craned my head upwards, raising a brow at him. Gabriel sighed.
“But he is a good man.”
“There is that.” Leaning into him, I felt myself begin to relax. “Do you want me to stay here tonight?”
“More than anything,” he said in a quick rush. “If only to sit here for the night.”
“The bed would be more comfortable.”
“I do not have a bed,” he said. “When I am here I sleep on the couch.”
I twisted in his arms. “Okay, we are going shopping for necessities the first chance we get. How do you not even have a bed? That’s like the most basic–” A smile was twisted his lips. “You’re messing with me.”
“I am,” he said rather pleased with himself.
Rolling my eyes, I leaned back into him, feeling my face hot. Though, I was finding I liked this side of him. I wanted to know more of it. And after tonight, I didn’t think there was much more that could surprise me.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]
I looked helplessly at the floor. Pristine. Perfect. Minimal. Just like everything in Gabriel’s house. Nothing here was without a purpose and most of the walls were devoid of anything personal. Gabriel’s office showed far more personality than the place he laid his head at night.
“Our hands are tied,” I said, partially resigned. “For now. I get it. But we cannot let what happened today continue.”
“I do not know what you are hoping to dismantle.”
I laughed bitterly. “Gabriel, if I had my choice, I would dismantle absolutely all of it. The way the market functions. The way people treat each other. The Barons. There is so much about this world that is messed up and needs to be broken down, piece by piece. But, none of that is going to be able to happen if this world splits in two. So, like I said, for now, our hands are tied. But this is not a subject we can just drop.”
He stared ahead, eyes resolute and cold. “Then that is a day for the future. But not one for tonight.”
“No,” I said. “It’s not.”
When his arm wrapped around my shoulder, I felt a shudder of surprise. It hadn’t been what I expected, especially after today. But Gabriel’s arm wrapped around me and with a gentle pressure, he pulled me near.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly. “You had many opportunities to not be here with me tonight. Yet, you are. I appreciate that.”
Reaching up, I put my hand upon his. “I’m glad I came.” Not for what I saw, but so he didn’t have to do it alone. “And I’m glad I got the opportunity to meet Reese.”
“I’m not.”
“He is a good cook,” I laughed.
“He’s a know-it-all that is detrimental to society and has far too many cats.”
I craned my head upwards, raising a brow at him. Gabriel sighed.
“But he is a good man.”
“There is that.” Leaning into him, I felt myself begin to relax. “Do you want me to stay here tonight?”
“More than anything,” he said in a quick rush. “If only to sit here for the night.”
“The bed would be more comfortable.”
“I do not have a bed,” he said. “When I am here I sleep on the couch.”
I twisted in his arms. “Okay, we are going shopping for necessities the first chance we get. How do you not even have a bed? That’s like the most basic–” A smile was twisted his lips. “You’re messing with me.”
“I am,” he said rather pleased with himself.
Rolling my eyes, I leaned back into him, feeling my face hot. Though, I was finding I liked this side of him. I wanted to know more of it. And after tonight, I didn’t think there was much more that could surprise me.
<<if $selkies == "true">>[[Go visit the selkies]]<</if>>
[[Chapter Nine]]“What is it going to mean for you if you can get him back?” I asked. Life had gone on without him. I wondered if his return would change her. Hazel acted as if her life hinged on Malcolm’s existence and yet, he hadn’t been here for nearly a decade and the life she had created had not fallen apart. Though, she seemed stagnant. Like she was punishing herself and refusing to move on until he was by her side again.
“I’ll get to be happy again,” she said.
There was not a single part of me that could imagine what Hazel had been through. But to hear that she felt as if her happiness had been put on hold, made my heart sink a little. Because what if we failed? Or, what if Malcolm came back but was not what she remembered.
<<if $hazelro == "true">> “That’s not to say you don’t make me happy,” she said quickly, squeezing my hand. “I don’t mean that at all. I just… I miss him so much. He was family. He always knew what to do. I want him back.”
“I know,” I said with as much understanding as I could muster.<</if>>
“You must think it silly for me to go to these lengths,” she said, looking at me out of the corner of her eye.
“I think you loved your brother very much and I think the circumstances around his death were tragic.” Death in the Night Market did not seem easy. Here, death was not a finality. Which in a way, made grieving so much worse.
“I’m going to set out some cream for Mr. Billows,” she said softly. “Hopefully we won’t be gone for long but I don’t want him thinking that I abandoned him.” When she shuffled away, I watched her go, ducking down behind the counter to pull out a fresh bottle of cream. The glass clinked against Mr. Billows bowl as she shook. But when she looked back up at me and took a deep breath, I knew there was no convincing her to stay behind.
“Ready?” she asked, coming back to my side.
“Here we go,” I said softly. And together, we set off towards a stretch of beach with crashing waves, containing an entire world below the chaos of the sea above.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]“Hazel,” I began hesitantly. “What if we fail?” Not just here. But what if we failed in general. What if there was no spirit to call home and what if this brother that she was banking so much on, was not a viable option to solve all her problems? There was a small part of me that felt sorry for the guy. I wondered if he knew the amount of responsibility that had been heaped on his shoulder’s during his death.
“We won’t fail,” she said firmly. “All failure is, is a lack of trying. And $name, when it comes to Malcolm, I will never give up.”
It didn’t bode well. There was always a time and a place when things needed to end. It was the natural order of things. Yet, I was afraid that Hazel looked at this situation as above it all. And while I wanted nothing more than to help her get her brother back, I did not want it to be at the expense of her.
“I’m going to set out some cream for Mr. Billows,” she said softly. “Hopefully we won’t be gone for long but I don’t want him thinking that I abandoned him.” When she shuffled away, I watched her go, ducking down behind the counter to pull out a fresh bottle of cream. The glass clinked against Mr. Billows bowl as she shook. But when she looked back up at me and took a deep breath, I knew there was no convincing her to stay behind.
“Ready?” she asked, coming back to my side.
“Here we go,” I said softly. And together, we set off towards a stretch of beach with crashing waves, containing an entire world below the chaos of the sea above.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]“Are you going to be able o handle leaving the shop?” I asked her under my breath.
“There’s no construct I can use,” she said, shuffling her feet back and forth. “The water would disintegrate it. And, given that we are contacting a medium, I probably need to be me. She might be able to use my connection to Malcolm to form a stronger signal.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
She looked pale. The road set before her was already one that was wrought with unknowns sending the path into something shaky and unmanageable. But for a woman who didn’t even like leaving her own home, I couldn’t imagine the type of anxiety she was feeling now. All I could see was the way her lips went bloodless and her hands trembled.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, mustering a brave smile.
“You don’t have to pretend,” I told her.
“I’ll be fine,” she repeated. Mainly because for Hazel, there was no other option. And the lengths she would go for Malcolm knew no bounds.
“I’m going to set out some cream for Mr. Billows,” she said softly. “Hopefully we won’t be gone for long but I don’t want him thinking that I abandoned him.” When she shuffled away, I watched her go, ducking down behind the counter to pull out a fresh bottle of cream. The glass clinked against Mr. Billows bowl as she shook. But when she looked back up at me and took a deep breath, I knew there was no convincing her to stay behind.
“Ready?” she asked, coming back to my side.
“Here we go,” I said softly. And together, we set off towards a stretch of beach with crashing waves, containing an entire world below the chaos of the sea above.
[[Next|Chapter Six 2]]“I love that you take pride in your home,” I told her. Hazel made her home hers. Every inch of it spoke of the person she was. Her garden showed how hardworking she could be. The herbal tonics and comforting smell of bubbling stew over the hearth denoted her care. And Billows and the dust bunnies in each corner, spoke to her quirkiness. That, coupled with the strange little talking plants that I swore sang show tunes when I was not looking at them. I would catch them one day.
“I think I have an idea,” she said, her voice taking on less of the manic worry and more of the normal, soft tones of the woman I was coming to care for. “Would you mind helping me bottle some wine?”
“As long as you can teach me.”
Taking my hand, she led me out back and down into a small gorge that was on the other side of the garden but away from the creek. She kicked off her feet, going to a small spigot hidden among the variegated leaves of boxwood and tucked behind a bushel of flowering petunias. “Take off your shoes,” she said. “We need to wash our feet.”
I followed her instructions without questions, kicking off my boots and dipping my toes in the frigid water that came from the rusted spout. Sticking her feet beneath the stream as well, Hazel wiggled her feet against mine, mock fighting me with the tips of her toes.
“You don’t mind getting dirty, right?” Her head was tilted up towards me, her body ducked down as she swished her bare feet around the small puddle that was beginning to form a basin around our ankles. I noticed the way her hand hovered over what should have turned into a mud puddle. The water remained clear and pristine, the grass beneath us tickling as it swayed gently back and forth.
“What exactly are we doing?”
“Smashing grapes,” she said with a grin. “Just stay right here while I get everything ready. Keep your feet under the water,” she ordered.
I watched as she padded off towards a deep trench. It ran along the stone fence line of her property as if some sort of mote to keep predators at bay. My eyes followed the line of it, watching how it dipped in small hills, delicate yellow daisies growing along the rim. There was a slatted piece of wood at one end of the trench that was connected to a large pipe. The pipe ran down from a banana leaf canopy that took up most of the back part of the property, keeping the area cool and moist.
“This might take a second,” she called back to me, fingers running within the trench and doing something I could not see. “You can talk to me though. I won’t be distracted.”
[[Do you take all your first dates to work on your farm?]]
[[Is there anything you can’t do here?]]
[[Why were you so nervous before?]]“Don’t overthink this,” I told her gently, making sure to keep my tone teasing instead of patronizing. She was trying so hard and I had a feeling that Hazel was often shot down for her efforts. I didn’t want to become one of the statistics in her life.
“I think I have an idea,” she said, her voice taking on less of the manic worry and more of the normal, soft tones of the woman I was coming to care for. “Would you mind helping me bottle some wine?”
“As long as you can teach me.”
Taking my hand, she led me out back and down into a small gorge that was on the other side of the garden but away from the creek. She kicked off her feet, going to a small spigot hidden among the variegated leaves of boxwood and tucked behind a bushel of flowering petunias. “Take off your shoes,” she said. “We need to wash our feet.”
I followed her instructions without questions, kicking off my boots and dipping my toes in the frigid water that came from the rusted spout. Sticking her feet beneath the stream as well, Hazel wiggled her feet against mine, mock fighting me with the tips of her toes.
“You don’t mind getting dirty, right?” Her head was tilted up towards me, her body ducked down as she swished her bare feet around the small puddle that was beginning to form a basin around our ankles. I noticed the way her hand hovered over what should have turned into a mud puddle. The water remained clear and pristine, the grass beneath us tickling as it swayed gently back and forth.
“What exactly are we doing?”
“Smashing grapes,” she said with a grin. “Just stay right here while I get everything ready. Keep your feet under the water,” she ordered.
I watched as she padded off towards a deep trench. It ran along the stone fence line of her property as if some sort of mote to keep predators at bay. My eyes followed the line of it, watching how it dipped in small hills, delicate yellow daisies growing along the rim. There was a slatted piece of wood at one end of the trench that was connected to a large pipe. The pipe ran down from a banana leaf canopy that took up most of the back part of the property, keeping the area cool and moist.
“This might take a second,” she called back to me, fingers running within the trench and doing something I could not see. “You can talk to me though. I won’t be distracted.”
[[Do you take all your first dates to work on your farm?]]
[[Is there anything you can’t do here?]]
[[Why were you so nervous before?]]“I am willing to do whatever you want to do. As long as it is with you.” I could see the way in which she wanted to get this right. Hazel was navigating territory that she didn’t fully understand and I wanted to assure her that I was right there with her. That more than anything, I just wanted to //be// with her. Even if that meant spending my days doing menial tasks.
“I think I have an idea,” she said, her voice taking on less of the manic worry and more of the normal, soft tones of the woman I was coming to care for. “Would you mind helping me bottle some wine?”
“As long as you can teach me.”
Taking my hand, she led me out back and down into a small gorge that was on the other side of the garden but away from the creek. She kicked off her feet, going to a small spigot hidden among the variegated leaves of boxwood and tucked behind a bushel of flowering petunias. “Take off your shoes,” she said. “We need to wash our feet.”
I followed her instructions without questions, kicking off my boots and dipping my toes in the frigid water that came from the rusted spout. Sticking her feet beneath the stream as well, Hazel wiggled her feet against mine, mock fighting me with the tips of her toes.
“You don’t mind getting dirty, right?” Her head was tilted up towards me, her body ducked down as she swished her bare feet around the small puddle that was beginning to form a basin around our ankles. I noticed the way her hand hovered over what should have turned into a mud puddle. The water remained clear and pristine, the grass beneath us tickling as it swayed gently back and forth.
“What exactly are we doing?”
“Smashing grapes,” she said with a grin. “Just stay right here while I get everything ready. Keep your feet under the water,” she ordered.
I watched as she padded off towards a deep trench. It ran along the stone fence line of her property as if some sort of mote to keep predators at bay. My eyes followed the line of it, watching how it dipped in small hills, delicate yellow daisies growing along the rim. There was a slatted piece of wood at one end of the trench that was connected to a large pipe. The pipe ran down from a banana leaf canopy that took up most of the back part of the property, keeping the area cool and moist.
“This might take a second,” she called back to me, fingers running within the trench and doing something I could not see. “You can talk to me though. I won’t be distracted.”
[[Do you take all your first dates to work on your farm?]]
[[Is there anything you can’t do here?]]
[[Why were you so nervous before?]]“So do you take all your first dates to work on your farm?” I asked her. There was a small part of me that was amused at the idea of someone coming to pick her up for a date and her taking them out back to weed her garden instead.
“No,” she said with a shaky laugh. “Mainly because you are my first date. Ever.”
It brought me up short. “What?” I found it hard to believe that someone as pretty, kind and resourceful as her, had never had someone in her life.
“Yeah. I– I haven’t really had a lot of time for relationships. When my mother was alive I was helping her with a lot of things. Trying to learn the craft. Especially after Malcolm moved out. She needed a lot more help. Then, after she… passed, I started running this place predominantly on my own. I just haven’t really had a lot of time to cultivate relationships.”
“Oh.”
Turning to me with wide eyes, she shifted from foot to foot, her hands fluttering around the chutes connected to the trench. “That’s not to say I haven’t– I have…” she huffed a curl out of her eyes. “I’ve been with people,” she said slowly. “But the entire romance thing is not something I’ve done. And especially one on a long term basis.” She bit her lower lip, swallowing thickly. “Does that bother you?”
[[Why would that bother me?]]
[[I’m not one to talk on this matter]]
[[Hazel, nothing you really do bothers me]]“Is there anything you can’t do here?” I asked. Hazel ran a shop, stocked by herbs and tonics she brewed herself with ingredients from her own garden. The food she cooked each evening was from out her back door. The flour she used from baking was milled herself. Now, the wine that she poured during an evening of dinner, I was finding, came from here as well.
“Keep animals,” she responded, her lips twisted in irritation. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve tried. But Mr. Billows is the only animal that seems to like me. Or at least he is the only one that sticks around. I tried to keep chickens once. For eggs. They all hopped the fence.”
“I haven’t seen a lot of animals around, but this seems like the place that they would want to be.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” she said. “I even built a beautiful coop for them.” She gestured towards a structure a little ways away. Still standing in hopes of a second chicken attempt one day. “I wanted this place to be a little sanctuary. Animals struggle within the market proper but they sometimes come through the gates. I thought this would be perfect. But I have a terrible track record with them.”
“Who knows,” I told her. “Maybe one day I could help you with that.” I was teasing of course. I didn’t know the first thing about animals. But the thought was nice.
“That would be new,” she said. “Not the helping thing but a relationship actually lasting.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve never been with anyone long term. And I’ve certainly never coexisted with someone I liked. Not like you.” Looking at me over her shoulder, she bit her lip. “Does that bother you?”
[[Why would that bother me?]]
[[I’m not one to talk on this matter]]
[[Hazel, nothing you really do bothers me]]“Why were you so nervous before?” I asked her. Mainly, I wanted to make sure I was not making her uncomfortable or putting unnecessary pressure on her.
“Oh,” she said. “I don’t know if I’m nervous. I mean, I’m a little nervous. //You// make me feel nervous.”
“I do?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. But she looked over her shoulder in alarm. “Not in a bad way. In a fluttering kind of way. The kind of way that makes my belly twist into butterflies. But that’s not what that was earlier.”
“Then what was it?”
“I just don’t know how to be a girlfriend, really. I hear all these things all the time about the romantic overtures. The perfect first dates. Or the really sexy ones. I’m friends with Milo and believe me, the stories he has to tell are sometimes unbelievable.” I couldn’t help but think that was probably because most of them were.
“I am with you,” I reminded her. “Not Milo.”
“No. I know. I just–” she said, hooking up a few of the pipes before taking a long stick and poking at the canopy above. Little rivulets of plumb water dripped down the stone wall that bordered that side of her property. “I work here,” she said. “My life is very intricately made up of doing these chores. Cooking. Making sure that my plants are happy. It makes me sometimes wonder if I’m not offering enough to someone. That maybe, this isn’t what my partner wants in a life with me.”
“Have you not had supportive partners before?”
“I haven’t had a partner before,” she said. “I mean, I’ve been with a few people. But I’ve never actually cohabited a space with someone I care for. Not like that. This is all kind of new.” Standing, she looked at me, chewing her bottom lip. “Does that bother you?”
[[Why would that bother me?]]
[[I’m not one to talk on this matter]]
[[Hazel, nothing you really do bothers me]]“Why would that bother me?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make me look too young? Like a child or something?”
“Hazel, you single-handed run this place pretty much on your own. I don’t know how I could look at you like a child. Besides, your experience in a relationship doesn't to define you. You’ve just been busy. Or maybe haven’t found the right person.”
She shuffled her feet a bit. “Maybe I’ve found the right person now.” Quickly, she covered it though by beckoning me over. “Come here. Your feet should be enchanted enough to keep the dirt off them.”
I stepped out of the water, making my way towards her. I stopped however as I watched the way she hiked up each side of her skirt, tying them to her hips. Long expanses of brown skin were suddenly exposed to me. Meanwhile, Hazel was untying her apron and loosening the corset she normally wore. It left the neckline of her blouse gaping a bit. I felt myself swallow.
“Well come on,” she said.
<<if $bottoms == "pants">> I rolled up my pants, cuffing them just under my knee. <<elseif $bottoms == "skirts">> I hiked up my skirts, tying them like hers to keep the moisture off the hem. <<elseif $bottoms == "pants and a skirt">> I shucked my pants off before tying up my skirt, watching as Hazel snuck a look in my direction.<</if>> Her eyes lingered along the lines of my body for a moment before she turned away, trying to hide a small blush.
As Hazel released the mechanism at the end of the trench, I watched as the canopy above us began to roll. Small grapes and plums came tumbling down the half pipe chute to begin filling the mote. Without hesitation, Hazel stepped inside and began stomping.
“The trick is to kind of dance a little,” she said. “When you step down, making sure to give a small twist of your heel.”
I stepped in, feeling the fruit squish between my toes, the bottom of the chute feeling smooth unlike the surrounding ground. Hazel obviously had some sort of enchantment on it.
She began jumping, the juice splattering against her legs and dripping down her thighs. Her smile was bright, teeth flashing my way. The sound of squelching sounded wetly around us, the pulp from the fruit beginning to break down. The edge of Hazel’s skirts were getting stained with a dark plumb color, her legs streaked with dark red and lavender.
“Am I doing it right?” I asked her, grinding my feet down.
She giggled, stepping over to me. “You are. Just not very efficiently. Here.” Sauntering behind me, she placed her hands delicately on my hips. “Okay, I’m going to steady you. Jump.”
[[Jump like she asked]]
[[I will slip if I jump]]
[[Jump with me to show me]]“I’m really not the one to talk on the matter,” I told her. “You need to remember that I have no memory of whether or not I’ve even had a relationship.”
Her nose wrinkled, like she hadn’t thought of that. Almost as if she had forgotten how I had gotten here to begin with. “That’s right,” she murmured. She brushed past it quickly as she beckoned me over. “Come here. Your feet should be enchanted enough to keep the dirt off them.”
I stepped out of the water, making my way towards her. I stopped however as I watched the way she hiked up each side of her skirt, tying them to her hips. Long expanses of brown skin were suddenly exposed to me. Meanwhile, Hazel was untying her apron and loosening the corset she normally wore. It left the neckline of her blouse gaping a bit. I felt myself swallow.
“Well come on,” she said.
<<if $bottoms == "pants">> I rolled up my pants, cuffing them just under my knee. <<elseif $bottoms == "skirts">> I hiked up my skirts, tying them like hers to keep the moisture off the hem. <<elseif $bottoms == "pants and a skirt">> I shucked my pants off before tying up my skirt, watching as Hazel snuck a look in my direction.<</if>> Her eyes lingered along the lines of my body for a moment before she turned away, trying to hide a small blush.
As Hazel released the mechanism at the end of the trench, I watched as the canopy above us began to roll. Small grapes and plums came tumbling down the half pipe chute to begin filling the mote. Without hesitation, Hazel stepped inside and began stomping.
“The trick is to kind of dance a little,” she said. “When you step down, making sure to give a small twist of your heel.”
I stepped in, feeling the fruit squish between my toes, the bottom of the chute feeling smooth unlike the surrounding ground. Hazel obviously had some sort of enchantment on it.
She began jumping, the juice splattering against her legs and dripping down her thighs. Her smile was bright, teeth flashing my way. The sound of squelching sounded wetly around us, the pulp from the fruit beginning to break down. The edge of Hazel’s skirts were getting stained with a dark plumb color, her legs streaked with dark red and lavender.
“Am I doing it right?” I asked her, grinding my feet down.
She giggled, stepping over to me. “You are. Just not very efficiently. Here.” Sauntering behind me, she placed her hands delicately on my hips. “Okay, I’m going to steady you. Jump.”
[[Jump like she asked]]
[[I will slip if I jump]]
[[Jump with me to show me]]“Hazel, I have yet to find something you do that actually bothers me,” I told her. She was kind and caring and went out of her way for so many. If anything, it appeared that Hazel was far too concerned with what others thought.
“Give it time,” she said with a small little laugh. “Now, come here. Your feet should be enchanted enough now to keep the dirt off them.”
I stepped out of the water, making my way towards her. I stopped however as I watched the way she hiked up each side of her skirt, tying them to her hips. Long expanses of brown skin were suddenly exposed to me. Meanwhile, Hazel was untying her apron and loosening the corset she normally wore. It left the neckline of her blouse gaping a bit. I felt myself swallow.
“Well come on,” she said.
<<if $bottoms == "pants">> I rolled up my pants, cuffing them just under my knee. <<elseif $bottoms == "skirts">> I hiked up my skirts, tying them like hers to keep the moisture off the hem. <<elseif $bottoms == "pants and a skirt">> I shucked my pants off before tying up my skirt, watching as Hazel snuck a look in my direction.<</if>> Her eyes lingered along the lines of my body for a moment before she turned away, trying to hide a small blush.
As Hazel released the mechanism at the end of the trench, I watched as the canopy above us began to roll. Small grapes and plums came tumbling down the half pipe chute to begin filling the mote. Without hesitation, Hazel stepped inside and began stomping.
“The trick is to kind of dance a little,” she said. “When you step down, making sure to give a small twist of your heel.”
I stepped in, feeling the fruit squish between my toes, the bottom of the chute feeling smooth unlike the surrounding ground. Hazel obviously had some sort of enchantment on it.
She began jumping, the juice splattering against her legs and dripping down her thighs. Her smile was bright, teeth flashing my way. The sound of squelching sounded wetly around us, the pulp from the fruit beginning to break down. The edge of Hazel’s skirts were getting stained with a dark plumb color, her legs streaked with dark red and lavender.
“Am I doing it right?” I asked her, grinding my feet down.
She giggled, stepping over to me. “You are. Just not very efficiently. Here.” Sauntering behind me, she placed her hands delicately on my hips. “Okay, I’m going to steady you. Jump.”
[[Jump like she asked]]
[[I will slip if I jump]]
[[Jump with me to show me]]Immediately I began jumping with abandon, pulling my knees to my chest before stomping them down with a squelch. Hazel clapped her hands in glee, letting go of me momentarily and causing me to nearly slip. Her grip returned firmly to my waist, righting me again as she gasped against my back.
“Isn’t it invigorating?” she asked breathlessly. “I do this when I’m stressed.”
I found myself stomping the fruit, pouring my fears and frustrations into each step. Secure in the knowledge that Hazel was not going to let me go.
And it wasn’t as if she let me go in the end. In fact, she held onto me, refusing to loosen her hold. It was why when I slipped, my foot rolling on a ripe and juicy plum, she went down with me. The two of us went crashing into a puddle of fruit and pulpy juice, the likes of which cascaded around us in a brief shower of sweet smelling rain.
Afterward, we lay on the grassy banks, our feet and legs sticky. There was a vat of liquid near us, ready to be bottled in a few days. Turning my head, I looked at Hazel, her cheeks flushed and her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat. She looked languid. Relaxed and happy. I felt the same.
“Thank you for helping me today,” she said.
“I like spending time with you.”
“And I like spending time with you.” Her chest was dappled with the sweet nectar and her white blouse now stained a deep maroon. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she rolled over to me, hovering above as the dappled light from the wisps filtered down through the banana leaves. Her eyes were dark and she smelled of sugar and berries. When her hand cupped my cheek, it was sticky. “I’m going to kiss you now,” she whispered to me, nose brushing against my own.
“I’d like that.”
When her lips met mine I sighed, my tongue seeking out the taste of wine heavy on her lips. As I tangled my fingers in her hair, I could feel the dried pulp. Her thighs slid against mine in a sticky drag while beneath us, half squished fruit squelched messily. Hazel was the first to break away, laughing as she dipped her head onto my shoulder. I couldn’t help but join her.
“We should go get cleaned up,” I told her.
Peering at me, her eyes lit up with something far brighter than I had seen from her before, she pecked another kiss on my nose. “Good first date?” she asked.
Gently, I swiped my thumb across her bottom lip before leaning in to claim her mouth as my own. “The best,” I murmured.
[[Chapter Five]]
“I will slip if I jump,” I told her, already feeling precarious on my feet.
“Where is your sense of adventure,” she giggled. But she tucked her face against my back, kissing me between the shoulder blades. “Just stomp then. One foot at a time. I’m right here with you.”
I lifted my foot, stomping the pulp down and grinding it beneath my heel. There was no possible way this was going to produce anything sanitary but I had seen the bottles of wine Hazel kept in the cellar. I knew they were not just for alcohol consumption and that a lot of times she added them to her cooking or used them in her potions. There was one afternoon a woman with pointed ears and a gown that flowed like water had drifted into the shop. She had bought all the wine Hazel had in stock, carrying them home in a satchel she attached to a landlocked fish who swam in the stream of her skirts.
“There you go,” Hazel whispered approvingly. “You got it.”
A sense of pride bloomed in my chest. Something so unbelievably simple somehow meaning the world when uttered from her. She didn’t move away from me either. Keeping her chest pressed to my back, she stomped the grapes with me. I could feel her heartbeat through my own clothes and the way her blouse slid against me.
Afterward, we lay on the grassy banks, our feet and legs sticky. There was a vat of liquid near us, ready to be bottled in a few days. Turning my head, I looked at Hazel, her cheeks flushed and her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat. She looked languid. Relaxed and happy. I felt the same.
“Thank you for helping me today,” she said.
“I like spending time with you.”
“And I like spending time with you.” Her chest was dappled with the sweet nectar and her white blouse now stained a deep maroon. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she rolled over to me, hovering above as the dappled light from the wisps filtered down through the banana leaves. Her eyes were dark and she smelled of sugar and berries. When her hand cupped my cheek, it was sticky. “I’m going to kiss you now,” she whispered to me, nose brushing against my own.
“I’d like that.”
When her lips met mine I sighed, my tongue seeking out the taste of wine heavy on her lips. As I tangled my fingers in her hair, I could feel the dried pulp. Her thighs slid against mine in a sticky drag while beneath us, half squished fruit squelched messily. Hazel was the first to break away, laughing as she dipped her head onto my shoulder. I couldn’t help but join her.
“We should go get cleaned up,” I told her.
Peering at me, her eyes lit up with something far brighter than I had seen from her before, she pecked another kiss on my nose. “Good first date?” she asked.
Gently, I swiped my thumb across her bottom lip before leaning in to claim her mouth as my own. “The best,” I murmured.
[[Chapter Five]]“Jump with me,” I told her. “Show me.” I twisted in her arms, taking her hands in mine. At first, Hazel’s jumps were small. Little baby hops that were meant to encourage me to follow. I held her hands tight, looking down at our feet covered in pulp. As I gained more confidence, we began jumping higher and higher until the two of us were laughing, sliding within the slick juices and clinging to each other for purchase. It was a situation that was never going to last and eventually we jumped too high and came down with a wet thud that had us both sliding before falling on our butts.
I looked at Hazel, wiping the grapes from my eyes. She burst out into a series of giggles, her fingers squeezing at her side as she continued to knead the wine. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”
I reached out, pulling a solid grape from her hair and squishing it between my thumb and forefinger. “This wine is doomed.”
Flopping backwards, Hazel began flinging her arms within our work, bathing in the wine. “Yup,” she laughed. “I’ll just do some purification later though.” She rolled onto her stomach, pretending to swim, splashing around. I felt her hand curl around my wrist as she pulled me forward with a splash.
I picked up a handful of grapes in retaliation, throwing them at her. She shrieked loudly, delighted at the turn of events before chucking her own fistful my way. It went on and on like this for the better part of the afternoon. There was not much wine that was filtering down into the vats below. But I couldn’t help but think how good of a first date this had turned out to be.
Afterward, we lay on the grassy banks, our feet and legs sticky. There was a vat of liquid near us, ready to be bottled in a few days. Turning my head, I looked at Hazel, her cheeks flushed and her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat. She looked languid. Relaxed and happy. I felt the same.
“Thank you for helping me today,” she said.
“I like spending time with you.”
“And I like spending time with you.” Her chest was dappled with the sweet nectar and her white blouse now stained a deep maroon. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she rolled over to me, hovering above as the dappled light from the wisps filtered down through the banana leaves. Her eyes were dark and she smelled of sugar and berries. When her hand cupped my cheek, it was sticky. “I’m going to kiss you now,” she whispered to me, nose brushing against my own.
“I’d like that.”
When her lips met mine I sighed, my tongue seeking out the taste of wine heavy on her lips. As I tangled my fingers in her hair, I could feel the dried pulp. Her thighs slid against mine in a sticky drag while beneath us, half squished fruit squelched messily. Hazel was the first to break away, laughing as she dipped her head onto my shoulder. I couldn’t help but join her.
“We should go get cleaned up,” I told her.
Peering at me, her eyes lit up with something far brighter than I had seen from her before, she pecked another kiss on my nose. “Good first date?” she asked.
Gently, I swiped my thumb across her bottom lip before leaning in to claim her mouth as my own. “The best,” I murmured.
[[Chapter Five]]“We don’t have to end, Milo,” I told him gently. “Bad things happen in relationships. Relationships are also messy. It’s how you respond when it gets tough that defines everything.”
“How do you know?”
It was a legitimate question, given who I was and the shape of my own memories. But I could feel it. My words were a truth that wrapped around me tightly and I just wished to extend it to him as well.
“I don’t believe you can ever know anything for certain,” I began slowly. “But, I also think that nothing is set in stone. That you can change your so-called fate. That you can choose kindness. You can choose love. You can also choose to walk away. Nothing is a hard line when it comes to emotions unless we choose it. We are far more in control of all that than I think a lot of individuals give themselves credit for.
He was quiet for a moment, rolling towards me to bury himself close. “How are you feeling?” It was a clear change in subject and one that I knew I would have to allow. Because it was the dead of night and both of us were not at our best. Besides, I had gotten the cogs moving for him. It was how Milo needed to be approached. Give him something to think on for a bit and then let it turn in his head until the final thoughts burst from his lips.
“I’m sore. A little shaken. Mostly just tired.”
<<if $deepwounds == "true">> “Given the state of those wounds I think you might be more than a little sore. Gonna need to get you something from Hazel’s.”
“Not now,” I murmured. The thought of going back out there and walking the streets half asleep, was less than appealing.<</if>>
“There anything I can do for you?” he asked, running his nose up the line of my neck. “You hungry?”
“Not really.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Why?” I laughed.
“Because you are always up for food,” he told me, poking at my side. “I like it. Makes me feel less like a bottomless pit.”
Curling against him, I hummed a bit in response, feeling my eyes already grow heavy. “In the morning,” I told him.
“‘Kay.”
As the distillery went quiet and the two of us began to doze, I felt the icy claws of the Deep trying to creep forward. As if they were an entity all on their own, ready to drag me back. “Milo?” I whispered.
“Hm?”
“Will you hold me tonight? In case it's my turn for a nightmare?”
His grip tightened around me in response, the blanket pulled up over our shoulders. “I’ll battle them off personally,” he said sleepily. Falling asleep, I felt my mind begin to drift, my thoughts turning to warm amber lights and the feeling of comfort.
[[Chapter Eight|Chapter Eight - Milo]]“I am pretty positive cheating fate never got anyone anywhere good,” I told him softly.
“Those people were not Milo Next,” he said, overly confident like usual. “Though, I suppose I’m not technically Milo Next either.”
Shifting, I looked at him with a frown. “Your name isn’t Milo?”
“No. That’s true. I think. But my last name was not originally Next. But, seeing how I didn’t want to carry my father's name with me, I had to choose something different. So when I was in line for the registration office, getting some papers so I could forge my age, I had to come up with a last name. The guy yelled out next, calling me up in line and I panicked. It just kind of stuck after that.”
“That is a very you story,” I told him.
“Isn’t it?”
He was quiet for a moment, rolling towards me to bury himself close. “How are you feeling?” It was a clear change in subject and one that I knew I would have to allow. Because it was the dead of night and both of us were not at our best. Besides, I had gotten the cogs moving for him. It was how Milo needed to be approached. Give him something to think on for a bit and then let it turn in his head until the final thoughts burst from his lips.
“I’m sore. A little shaken. Mostly just tired.”
<<if $deepwounds == "true">> “Given the state of those wounds I think you might be more than a little sore. Gonna need to get you something from Hazel’s.”
“Not now,” I murmured. The thought of going back out there and walking the streets half asleep, was less than appealing.<</if>>
“There anything I can do for you?” he asked, running his nose up the line of my neck. “You hungry?”
“Not really.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Why?” I laughed.
“Because you are always up for food,” he told me, poking at my side. “I like it. Makes me feel less like a bottomless pit.”
Curling against him, I hummed a bit in response, feeling my eyes already grow heavy. “In the morning,” I told him.
“‘Kay.”
As the distillery went quiet and the two of us began to doze, I felt the icy claws of the Deep trying to creep forward. As if they were an entity all on their own, ready to drag me back. “Milo?” I whispered.
“Hm?”
“Will you hold me tonight? In case it's my turn for a nightmare?”
His grip tightened around me in response, the blanket pulled up over our shoulders. “I’ll battle them off personally,” he said sleepily. Falling asleep, I felt my mind begin to drift, my thoughts turning to warm amber lights and the feeling of comfort.
[[Chapter Eight|Chapter Eight - Milo]]“I’m going to say this in one of the nicest ways that I know how,” I started. “But you need to work on your self-esteem. You don’t deserve bad things, Milo. Bad things keep happening because you assume it is what //should// happen to someone like you.”
He snorted a little, running his fingers along my back. “Thanks, darlin’.”
“I’m serious.”
“I am too. Look, I get it. I probably come off as a self-deprecating prick at times. But…” his face twisted up. “Have you ever thought that maybe you deserve something and then //bam// it happens? Or that you might be cursed to repeat something over and over? Like maybe someone out there is saying ‘hey, you need to learn a lesson’?”
“No, not really,” I told him.
He was quiet for a moment, rolling towards me to bury himself close. “How are you feeling?” It was a clear change in subject and one that I knew I would have to allow. Because it was the dead of night and both of us were not at our best. Besides, I had gotten the cogs moving for him. It was how Milo needed to be approached. Give him something to think on for a bit and then let it turn in his head until the final thoughts burst from his lips.
“I’m sore. A little shaken. Mostly just tired.”
<<if $deepwounds == "true">> “Given the state of those wounds I think you might be more than a little sore. Gonna need to get you something from Hazel’s.”
“Not now,” I murmured. The thought of going back out there and walking the streets half asleep, was less than appealing.<</if>>
“There anything I can do for you?” he asked, running his nose up the line of my neck. “You hungry?”
“Not really.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Why?” I laughed.
“Because you are always up for food,” he told me, poking at my side. “I like it. Makes me feel less like a bottomless pit.”
Curling against him, I hummed a bit in response, feeling my eyes already grow heavy. “In the morning,” I told him.
“‘Kay.”
As the distillery went quiet and the two of us began to doze, I felt the icy claws of the Deep trying to creep forward. As if they were an entity all on their own, ready to drag me back. “Milo?” I whispered.
“Hm?”
“Will you hold me tonight? In case it's my turn for a nightmare?”
His grip tightened around me in response, the blanket pulled up over our shoulders. “I’ll battle them off personally,” he said sleepily. Falling asleep, I felt my mind begin to drift, my thoughts turning to warm amber lights and the feeling of comfort.
[[Chapter Eight|Chapter Eight - Milo]]I was not here for death, no matter how fitting my actions were to the situation. I was here to find the man from before. The one with the sad eyes and the curious smile. I couldn’t explain why I wanted to see him or why there was a certain hunch that lived in the pit of my stomach, telling me he would provide answers. But I had been torn from him too soon. Not only that, but I had felt a kinship with him. The kind that came from not knowing who you were or why you were here.
Turning, I moved to exit the alley but the gate behind me began to glow brighter. Somewhere in the market, music began to play, a haunting melody that worked its way through the shifting corridors. Looking around, I tried to find the source of it but only found a small alcove beginning to form on the far side of the garden. As I approached, the music got louder and inside, shadows danced together in a stuttered version of a waltz. Each time the music cut out, they disappeared from view, before bursting back into life and continuing their steps.
I placed my hand up against the alcove, uncertain if I should try to step through and join them. The music was inviting and spoke of a ball long ago. I could see a watery cage off in the distance. A woman inside banging to get out.
The wall snapped shut before I could step through, however, an unseen force shoving me away and causing me to stumble back towards the shrouded man and the crackling gate.
Looking at the shrouded being once more, I knew I had a choice. They were not going to be talking any time soon. I could either go through that gate, go back to Milo, or continue to wander in hopes that I would find something more.
[[Go through the gate]]
[[Go back through the tear]]
[[Continue to explore the market]]I stepped up to the birds frozen in flight. A faint buzz could be heard from them and as I peered at their wings, I realized they were not frozen, but just moving at a minute rate. Somehow still staying suspended in air. I could feel them, however. The way their tiny hearts still beat beneath their breast. The confusion they felt as they tried to pulse their wings. I could even hear whispered thoughts as if they were my own. A cacophony of small little voices all combining to ask where exactly they even were and where were the trees.
I stepped back, feeling a sort of loneliness at that. I could see them but they could not see me. I could hear them, but their thoughts were not meant for me. I was an observer in this small courtyard. Someone meant to see but never to touch. The life that would have made up anyone else beat in an erratic pulse all around me but I knew without a doubt it was not mine. It never would be mine.
But why?
Gasping, I forced myself away from the birds, nearly stumbling into the shrouded man. I had a choice. The guardian of this gate or whatever he was, was not going to be talking any time soon. I could either go through that gate, go back to Milo, or continue to wander in hopes that I would find something more.
[[Go through the gate]]
[[Go back through the tear]]
[[Continue to explore the market]]“Are you planning on keeping your old job?” There was probably a bit of contention between being a courtesan and a Baron of the market. I couldn’t see how she could possibly do both. Not safely at least. Belladonna looked entirely unconcerned with the thought, however.
“Why would I give something up I’ve worked years to obtain?” she asked.
“Because it is another way for people to get to you,” I said. “Because Barons are supposed to be protected since there are apparently people out there vying for the position and having no qualms about killing someone to get it.”
“Oh,” she said. “I see. And you think if I am naked on my back somewhere I would be easier to kill?” Her lip stuck out in a small pout. “Oh, dear heart. Please. They are not going to pay that much money to kill me.”
“I think you underestimate people,” I told her. I think she also underestimated how some would do it just out of sheer principle. A night with Belladonna Malady and a way to best her. The thought made my stomach churn.
"Calm yourself," she soothed. "Your thoughts are running in a direction you do not need to concern yourself wit."
"I will always concern myself with you."
Reaching out, she coaxed me towards her until my head lay in her lap. I felt my heart thud in my chest as my cheek rested against the curve of her thigh.
“But doesn't this excite you, my muse?” she asked. She leaned over me, fingers scratching against my scalp as her hair fell around us in a sweet smelling curtain. "Being with a woman such as me? Being with a Baron? The power it all holds."
[[I’d much rather find out what excites you]]
[[Everything you do excites me]]
[[Can I even lie to you?]]Rising from the couch she took me by the hands and pulled me up towards her. Her eyes were a deep gold once more, little flecks of fire swimming within them. “Will you be alright here?” It was the first time I felt like there was genuine concern in her voice. The type that came because she actually wanted to know the answer. Part of me wanted to say no just to see what she would say.
“I’m more worried about you,” I told her.
Cupping my cheek, she ran her thumb across the bottom swell of my lip, nail coming down to slice the skin there open. I gasped at the pleasure that rolled through me as she gathered my blood and sucked the bead of red from her thumb.
“I will be fine, my heart,” she told me. “And I promise to return soon.”
My mouth was dry. I wanted her to stay now. To watch her cheek hollow once more and see her lips painted with my own juices.
She smirked. “Try to be good for me, hm? Keep those hands to yourself for now.” Kissing me on the cheek, she turned, sauntering out of the room. The moment she left I felt my stomach drop. Being away from Belladonna was starting to feel unbearable.
And more than anything, I wanted her fangs to sink into my skin and send me tumbling towards the safety of her embrace.
[[Chapter Eleven]]''Character Details''
<<if $nameself == "false">> You have not discovered your name yet<<elseif $nameself == "true">> Name: $name<</if>>
<<if $details == "true">>Eyes: $eyecolor
Hair: $haircolor
Complexion: $skincolor<</if>>
<<if $facialdetails == "true">>
Mouth type: $mouth
Hair Type: $hairtype hair<</if>>
<<if $freckles == "true">>Freckles
<<elseif $freckles == "false">>No Freckles<</if>>
<<if $facialhair == "true">>Facial Hair
<<elseif $facialhair == "false">>No Facial Hair <</if>>
''Daily Attire''
<<if $dailyattire == "true">> Bottoms: $bottoms
Outer Layer: $vest
Overskirt: $overskirt
Jacket: $jacket
Headpiece: $headpiece
Type: $modesty<</if>>
<<if $balldress == "true">> ''Formal Attire''
Dress Style: $dress
<<elseif $suit == "true">> ''Formal Attire''
Suit Style: $suit<</if>>
''Romance Option''
<<if $miloro == "true">> Milo <<elseif $belladonnaro == "true">> Belladonna <<elseif $gabrielro == "true">> Gabriel <<elseif $hazelro == "true">> Hazel <<elseif $gbpoly == "true">> Belladonna and Gabriel (intention to poly)<</if>>
''The Barons of the Night Market''
The Book Baron: <<if $bookbaron == "true">>Noctine/Chrysanthemum<</if>>
The Harbor Master<<if $harbormaster == "false">>Unknown <<elseif $harbormaster == "true">> Reese <</if>>
Baron of the Deep: <<if $deepbaron == "true">> Kamille<</if>>
The Dollmaker: <<if $dollmaker == "true">> Elias<</if>>
The Iron Baron: <<if $ironbaron == "true">> Odin<</if>>
Baron of the Mists: <<if $endmists == "false">> Kavatti <<elseif $endmists == "true">> Baron of the Mists: Belladonna<</if>>
The Sisters of Fate: <<if $fates == "true">>Neve, Areil and Unknown<</if>>
The Gem Baron:<<if $gembaron == "true">> Taliesan<</if>>
The Gatekeeper: <<if $gatekeeper == "true">> Milo <</if>>
''Written by''
Zinnia Demitasse
''Art by''
Mooreaux
''Edited by''
Sadie
Faith
kicks
Poppy
shiv
cherry
''Coding by''
Idrelle Games
''Publishing Help''
Chillstudios
Arcadie & Utopie
''A special thanks'' to Shawn and our children. Thank you for putting up with my crazy work days. Thank you for loving me through my anxiety over fictional chracters. Thank you for being the inspiration to do this for a living.
And thank you to Mooreaux, my creative partner in crime, who has helped with so many of these ideas. Who has opened their home to me for every work day. And who yelled at me to do this to begin with.
I love you all.
''A special thank you to all the people who donated to the Night Market''
Madison B
Samuel L.
Katelyn T
FutureGrave
Anitha Aadireddy
Arty
Aster
Matilde
DarlingNoct
VickyPink
Lizzy Tinker
Nakel Marissa
Mothermayhem
Peter Hofman
Kingsfoil
Mandi Ward
HaliaArtisan
Jaime Ford
Alexus Carrillo
Smudjygirl
Sekinat Adekanbi
Giselle Ferguson
Charis
Hunter Colquhoun
Jesse Jay
Erica Tigchelaar
Hushibe
Rue
Shivaun Wakefield
Kathy L
Lizzy Cruz
Lola
Laura P.
Mansym
Twigy
Birbycakes
Faith
Natalie Bonilla
Cassie Dizy
Falon'Fen
Amante
Anny Lemyre
Kaylene Isbel
Sophia Madura
Janelle Utheim
Suwariish
W. Lee
Teddie
Dymon Cheeks
Amelia Amador
Sandra Perger
Sinnamon
Scott Cox (the gnomish bard)
Jasmine Sunderlage
Kendra De Nike
Dassah Kaplan
Dana V
Cloudling
Miindli
Brenda Miranda
Miriam A.
Alys
Robyn W
Richard Von Jordon
Krissy A.
Caitlin Docwra
Kris. S.
Miriam B.
Cory
C O'Malley
Usuimi
genginger
And to all the donators that wished to be anonymous
''Notable Achievements''
<<if $freedonkies == "true">> Free the Donkies<</if>>
<<if $tunneloflove == "true">> Tunnel of Purrrrfect Love<</if>>
<<if $teawithselkies == "true">> Have tea with the selkies <</if>>
<<if $colorwithever == "true">> Color with a ghost<</if>>
<<if $defykavatti == "true">> Intervene with Kavatti<</if>>
<<if $freecaliban == "true">> Free a friend<</if>>
<<if $defyelias == "true">> Stand up to a fallen<</if>>
<<if $bite == "true">> Experience the perfection of the bite<</if>>"Yeah," I said miserably. "Wouldn't want to let that bail money go to waste. Need to work of that debt, right? Can't do it if I'm at the bottom of the ocean."
Confusion crossed Gabriel's face as he looked at me, full of concern. "What do you even mean by that?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes I just wonder if this," I geastured between us, "is all because I'm an investment."
Gabriel, however, looked upset by my phrasing. Sitting down at the edge of the desk in front of me, he shook his head no. “You know you are so much more than that.”
“Do I?” It felt petty to ask. Or perhaps I just didn’t like the vulnerability that was coming with this moment. But I didn’t regret that the words left my lips. <<if $pits == "true">> “How am I supposed to know that, Gabriel? Because sometimes I still worry this is all a ruse and one wrong step, you’ll throw me in the pits."<</if>>
He didn’t look startled by my question. Just merely ashamed. “Let me rephrase. I had hoped you knew you mean more to me. That you are becoming so much more to me. But perhaps I am remiss in thinking so.” Leaning forward, Gabriel caught my eye. There was a finality to his gaze. One that demanded I pay attention. “$name,” he said firmly. “You are not an asset. You are a member of this team. But more importantly, I would not have stormed the Deep because I was concerned about our plight with the Barons. I would have sent the entirety of the Velvet Guard down there to find you because I could not bear the thought of you down there alone. I regretted sending you there the moment you left my side. I should have followed.”
Clearly my throat, I shifted a little in my seat. It was as if my feet had carried me here without a plan. And now that I was sitting before him, the adrenaline beginning to fade, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do.
“I came here for a much different reason than to just tell you what happened in the Deep,” I started, clinging to the events down below than any of my own feelings. <<if $mirror == "safe">>“Though, I did get Baron Kamille’s favor.”
A soft smile appeared over his features. The likes of which I didn’t know if I had really seen before. “I knew you would.” <<elseif $mirror == "broken">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important.” <<elseif $deepwounds == "true">>”I didn’t get Baron Kamille’s favor. I failed the mission and…”
“Shh,” he gently hushed. “We can discuss that later. Right now, it is not important. I am far more concerned with the wounds you have obviously received.”<</if>>
<<if $pits == "false">>Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “You said,” I continued, “that if anything was to happen between the two of us, we would need to be sound of mind. No drink. Just the two of us making a decision together.”
“I did.” Leaning back, he sat up straight, his eyes beginning to sweep over me hungrily. It caused me to swallow a nervous breath, my hands tapping on the side of the chair.
“Did you mean it?”
“I generally mean what I say,” he confirmed.
He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, I could see. Gabriel sat against his desk, legs firmly planted on the ground and hands resting on his knees. His posture was straight, his uniform crisp and clean, and his hair slicked back to expose the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones.
“Neither of us have drank tonight,” I tried pointing out.
“I had a ginger ale with dinner,” he said sadly.
[[Reach out and playfully smack him on the leg]]
[[Wait. What? What does that have to do with me wanting to kiss you]]
[[Can you please just make a move?]]<<elseif $pits == "true">> Ducking my head, I gathered my thoughts. “There's something going on between us." I told him. It had been an annoyance at the base of my skull. Something that just continued to linger no matter how deplorable I thought he sometimes was.
“There is.”
“I’m not sure I understand why.”
He frowned a little, looking uncertain himself. “No. I agree. I am uncertain of it as well.”
“I don’t particularly like you still.” That was the thing. While I wasn’t repulsed by our time together, I didn’t know if I actually could like the man. The things he stood by. The rules I watched him carry out. As someone who had been on the receiving end of that, I wasn’t sure how I could sit here and consider him anything more than the enemy.
“You are a special brand of irritating I’m not sure I enjoy either,” he told me honestly.
I laughed a little at that. “Not your type, right?”
“Not my type,” he confirmed.
I nodded, letting the silence surround us for one long and agonizing moment.[[Can you please just make a move?|Can you please just make a move pits]]
[[Kiss him|Gabriel kiss him]]<</if>>
"Only when he's not trying to throw me in a pit," I said, my lips twisted into a smile that felt more like a grimace at times.
"Fuck, Gabe. You still implementing that shit? It's what's making the entire coastline stink, you know. Needs to go just due to the fuckin' smell alone."
"And, you know, the blatant torture of people," I pointed out.
Reese’s bark of laughter in response was one that filled me with warmth. “Oh, you got a spine. I like it. Now, what do you all say to drinking.”
“No drinking in my home,” Gabriel said. “You break things when you do.”
“Aw, come on. I’m an old man. Shouldn’t you be more lenient by now?”
“No.”
I watched as the two of them stood there, Gabriel getting out a bottle of wine, Reese demanding whiskey, the room being filled with a familial warmth. It was a different side to Gabriel but one that I was finding he slipped into with ease once the shroud of the Warden was gone.
“Alright, you two look like you’ve been through it tonight so I’ll cook. My treat. Plus, I fucking hate Gabriel’s cooking. Don’t let him cook for you, $name. Not worth it. Not even in the slightest.” Gabriel shook his head but the smile that was upon him at the ribbing was priceless. As Reese rolled up the sleeves of his coat, heading to Gabriel’s kitchen, I spied the black ink, faded upon his arm.
It was of an anchor, lightening cracking above and through the twisted iron. The same sigil that was on the ring Billows had given us already.
“$name,” Gabriel said, drawing my eyes to him. “Would you like to sit with me on the sofa while we make Reese actually do something with his life?” There was a half smile there, waiting for me. I glanced at Reese’s tattoo once more, but decided to keep my mouth shut.
“Yes,” I told him. “Just take a break, okay? No matter what he does, just sit with me.”
Stepping forward, Gabriel folded me into his arms, breathing in the scent of me. I held him tightly, feeling myself melt against him as well, my heart matching with the beat buried beneath his own chest.
In the kitchen, Reese began to bang pots and pans, demanding whiskey once more. But Gabriel didn’t move. Instead, he stayed, curled against my warmth, as the two of us banished the horrors of the day with the comfort and love that filled his home. It was the only way I wanted to end my day.
[[Interlude - Continue to talk to Gabriel]]
or
[[Chapter Nine]]Zinnia DemitasseThe Night Market<<link "The Barons">>
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<</link>><img src="images/logo.jpg">The knock sounded early in the morning. Or what I thought might be early in the morning. Night was eternal here and sleep had come in a stagnant pattern for the last few evenings. Peeling my eyes open, I stared out the window at the blue orbs of light knocking around through the boughs of the birch tree. At first, I thought they were the ones making the noise. That they were somehow cracking across the sky like boulders.
“$name?”
I blinked. The voice was soft and carried through on the wind. It sounded as if it had traveled through the alleys, seeking me out in the depths of my slumber. Trying to remind me of who I used to be. It was all followed by an insistent meow.
Sitting up, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. The webs of the dreamworld began to dissipate as I looked towards my door, watching it creak open. Hazel poked her head inside, a stray curl getting caught on a splintered portion of the wood.
“Hi. Sorry. I really hate to do this to you. But the Warden is here.” She was biting her lower lip nervously, rocking back and forth.
I flopped back down on my bed, pulling the pillow over my face and groaning. “Why?”
“He said that you needed to report for work today.”
He had never sent me anything. No summons. No formal request. I wasn’t going to report for anything.
I could hear Hazel shifting. “$name, I think if you don’t come downstairs he isn’t going to leave and– well, he’s going to end up making my customers a bit nervous, I think. And, I’m running out of small talk.”
I suppressed a groan. “I’ll be down in a minute.” While I didn’t think Hazel would ever let the man upstairs, I also believed her when she said he wouldn’t leave. Besides, Gabriel Caine was not her problem. He was mine.
Dressing, I headed downstairs to find the Warden standing by the door, hands clasped behind him, legs braced and at attention. Hazel was behind the counter, trying to put together the morning orders, but her gaze kept shifting nervously to him.
“Ah,” he said when he saw me walk through the door. “Yes. Good to see you this morning. I am sorry or having Ms. Albright wake you. I assumed you would be awake at this hour. Most people do not while away their time in bed.”
[[Is it even morning?]]
[[You never told me I would need to work today]]
[[I'm rethinking our deal]]“How is a person even supposed to tell it is morning?” I stared at the stained-glass window. It hadn’t changed from what I could tell. Most of the light came from swaying strings of light Hazel had hung within the rafters.
“Oh,” Hazel perked up at that. “I can help with that. There is a subtle shift in the light of the lanterns outside. I kind of just know it by feel now but I can always get a lantern for the shop and teach you how to tell time with it.”
She looked incredibly excited about the prospect.
“Another time, perhaps,” The Warden said, his eyes never turning from me. “Are you ready?”
It was a clear dismissal and one that said he would not be continuing this conversation even if I tried. This man was more than irritating.
Heading over, I pushed past him, ready to head out into the forever dark sky. It was probably best to just get this over with so I could get back to figuring out just what exactly was really going on with me.
“Warden?” Hazel called out, just as we were to leave. “You’ll think about what we talked about, right?”
The Warden nodded. “Of course, Ms. Albright.”
“Warden?” she called out again, halting him in his tracks. “By, you’ll think about what we talked about, you mean you’ll do it, correct?”
Warden Caine did not look at her as he ushered me out of the apothecary. He did pause at the door, however, his hand gripping the frame, before nodding. I saw Hazel’s satisfied look as he shut the door.
“Follow me,” he said, maneuvering himself through the front gate and down the alley without waiting for me. I thought about turning and heading back inside but heard the lock click behind me. Hazel was peeking out from the window, giving me a thumbs up and absolutely not letting me back inside.
Catching up to Gabriel, I fell in step beside him. “So what is it I will be doing for you today in my indentured servitude?” I asked.
“I was going to have you start at the office but it turns out I am needed elsewhere and I do not trust you enough to be alone within the prison. So, you will be attending this current problem with me.”
“Are you going to tell me what the current problem is?”
He wasn’t. Instead, we made it through the burnt out alley and stopped at the three-tiered fountain. The water was not running like it should have and the soft comforting trickle that I had first heard when making my way to the apothecary was suddenly no more.
“The children of the market come here to buy wishes,” he said. There were bits of metal and coin in the bottom basin of the fountain. Some of which was coated with algae and blooming pearlescent mushrooms. “Their offerings have clogged the pump and I need you to clean it.”
I turned to him slowly. “Are you serious?”
He blinked. “Are we supposed to just leave the fountain to fall into disrepair?”
“Why is this a task that they would call a Warden out for?”
“They didn’t. A service order came across my desk and I decided it was the perfect job to start you on.”
[[I’m not doing this]]
[[And if I refuse?]]
[[Where are the cleaning supplies?]]“You never even told me I would need to work today,” I said to him. There was a twitch of irritation that sparked across his jaw, but his tone was the same deep, monotone rumble it always seemed to be.
“I did.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. Now, are you ready to go?”
It was a clear dismissal and one that said he would not be continuing this conversation even if I tried. This man was more than irritating.
Heading over, I pushed past him, ready to head out into the forever dark sky. It was probably best to just get this over with so I could get back to figuring out just what exactly was really going on with me.
“Warden?” Hazel called out, just as we were to leave. “You’ll think about what we talked about, right?”
The Warden nodded. “Of course, Ms. Albright.”
“Warden?” she called out again, halting him in his tracks. “By, you’ll think about what we talked about, you mean you’ll do it, correct?”
Warden Caine did not look at her as he ushered me out of the apothecary. He did pause at the door, however, his hand gripping the frame, before nodding. I saw Hazel’s satisfied look as he shut the door.
“Follow me,” he said, maneuvering himself through the front gate and down the alley without waiting for me. I thought about turning and heading back inside but heard the lock click behind me. Hazel was peeking out from the window, giving me a thumbs up and absolutely not letting me back inside.
Catching up to Gabriel, I fell in step beside him. “So what is it I will be doing for you today in my indentured servitude?” I asked.
“I was going to have you start at the office but it turns out I am needed elsewhere and I do not trust you enough to be alone within the prison. So, you will be attending this current problem with me.”
“Are you going to tell me what the current problem is?”
He wasn’t. Instead, we made it through the burnt out alley and stopped at the three-tiered fountain. The water was not running like it should have and the soft comforting trickle that I had first heard when making my way to the apothecary was suddenly no more.
“The children of the market come here to buy wishes,” he said. There were bits of metal and coin in the bottom basin of the fountain. Some of which was coated with algae and blooming pearlescent mushrooms. “Their offerings have clogged the pump and I need you to clean it.”
I turned to him slowly. “Are you serious?”
He blinked. “Are we supposed to just leave the fountain to fall into disrepair?”
“Why is this a task that they would call a Warden out for?”
“They didn’t. A service order came across my desk and I decided it was the perfect job to start you on.”
[[I’m not doing this]]
[[And if I refuse?]]
[[Where are the cleaning supplies?]]“I’ve thought about it and I think I would rather not work for you. I’d rather work for Hazel.” Or really anyone other than the guy that coerced this decision under duress.
“I am sorry you feel that way,” he told me, his expression never changing. “Are you ready?”
It was a clear dismissal and one that said he would not be continuing this conversation even if I tried. This man was more than irritating.
Heading over, I pushed past him, ready to head out into the forever dark sky. It was probably best to just get this over with so I could get back to figuring out just what exactly was really going on with me.
“Warden?” Hazel called out, just as we were to leave. “You’ll think about what we talked about, right?”
The Warden nodded. “Of course, Ms. Albright.”
“Warden?” she called out again, halting him in his tracks. “By, you’ll think about what we talked about, you mean you’ll do it, correct?”
Warden Caine did not look at her as he ushered me out of the apothecary. He did pause at the door, however, his hand gripping the frame, before nodding. I saw Hazel’s satisfied look as he shut the door.
“Follow me,” he said, maneuvering himself through the front gate and down the alley without waiting for me. I thought about turning and heading back inside but heard the lock click behind me. Hazel was peeking out from the window, giving me a thumbs up and absolutely not letting me back inside.
Catching up to Gabriel, I fell in step beside him. “So what is it I will be doing for you today in my indentured servitude?” I asked.
“I was going to have you start at the office but it turns out I am needed elsewhere and I do not trust you enough to be alone within the prison. So, you will be attending this current problem with me.”
“Are you going to tell me what the current problem is?”
He wasn’t. Instead, we made it through the burnt out alley and stopped at the three-tiered fountain. The water was not running like it should have and the soft comforting trickle that I had first heard when making my way to the apothecary was suddenly no more.
“The children of the market come here to buy wishes,” he said. There were bits of metal and coin in the bottom basin of the fountain. Some of which was coated with algae and blooming pearlescent mushrooms. “Their offerings have clogged the pump and I need you to clean it.”
I turned to him slowly. “Are you serious?”
He blinked. “Are we supposed to just leave the fountain to fall into disrepair?”
“Why is this a task that they would call a Warden out for?”
“They didn’t. A service order came across my desk and I decided it was the perfect job to start you on.”
[[I’m not doing this]]
[[And if I refuse?]]
[[Where are the cleaning supplies?]]“I’m not doing this,” I told him, taking a full step back from the fountain.
“That is a shame,” he said with a nod. “Will you come quietly back to the prison or will I have to make a formal arrest?”
“That’s all it took? One refusal and you are ready to arrest me again?”
While he did not look as if he was going to attack, I could feel the way he filled the courtyard. Gabriel Caine was a large man. His shoulders broad and muscles corded. I could run, but eventually, he would catch me, and I had little doubt that he would end up taking me down.
“You are working off a debt. A debt I paid in order to keep you out of the flesh pits.”
“The flesh pits you put me in to begin with.”
“This is not a point I will be arguing with you,” he said sternly. “Either clean out the fountain, or follow me back to the prison. It makes very little difference to me but I am hoping that you see reason for your own sake.”
I had no options. He made sure I had no options. With a sneer on my lips I stomped over to the nearby bucket and began scooping out the bottom of the fountain.
“While we are here, I would like to discuss your payment.”
“I thought I was working for free to work off this debt you personally have assigned me.”
“Yes. Normally, that is how it would work. However, Ms. Albright has pointed a few things out to me. I do not think she will be letting go of her concerns anytime soon.” I thought back to Hazel’s words before we left and wondered just how long her and the Warden had made small talk that morning. “I will be paying you a lump sum every two weeks in order to cover costs for your food and your clothing situation.”
[[Does this prolong my debt?]]
[[That’s very generous of you]]
[[You can keep your blood money]]“And if I refuse?” I asked, crossing my arms in front of me.
“It is within your right to do so. I will have to take you back to the prison of course and we will have to go through the ordeal of processing once again, but the course of your future is entirely up to you.”
Shaking my head, I walked towards the bucket that I saw near the fountain, bending down to start scooping out the bits of metal that the children had tossed in. “When you say things like that, do you actually believe them?”
“Why would I not?”
“I guess believing them isn’t the problem,” I said. “Maybe it’s the fact that you don’t see what’s wrong with them.”
“And you do not see the value in the opportunity you have been given now. I supposed we all have our faults.” He gestured towards the fountain, motioning for me to continue cleaning.
“While we are here, I would like to discuss your payment.”
“I thought I was working for free to work off this debt you personally have assigned me.”
“Yes. Normally, that is how it would work. However, Ms. Albright has pointed a few things out to me. I do not think she will be letting go of her concerns anytime soon.” I thought back to Hazel’s words before we left and wondered just how long her and the Warden had made small talk that morning. “I will be paying you a lump sum every two weeks in order to cover costs for your food and your clothing situation.”
[[Does this prolong my debt?]]
[[That’s very generous of you]]
[[You can keep your blood money]]“Where are the cleaning supplies?” I asked with a sigh. There was really no point in arguing with him. Until this man was done with me, he technically owned me. I didn’t have to like it, I didn’t have to agree with it, but if I wanted to walk free of this, I needed to do what he said.
Gabriel motioned to a bucket off to the right and some gloves. They were just waiting for me, having been positioned there before we had even arrived. I wondered if he had walked from the prison with the pail in his hands or if he had used the magic that they all claimed was forbidden, to summon it here.
“While we are here, I would like to discuss your payment.”
“I thought I was working for free to work off this debt you personally have assigned me.”
“Yes. Normally, that is how it would work. However, Ms. Albright has pointed a few things out to me. I do not think she will be letting go of her concerns anytime soon.” I thought back to Hazel’s words before we left and wondered just how long her and the Warden had made small talk that morning. “I will be paying you a lump sum every two weeks in order to cover costs for your food and your clothing situation.”
[[Does this prolong my debt?]]
[[That’s very generous of you]]
[[You can keep your blood money]]“Is this going to prolong my debt?” I would rather have no collected anything if it meant that I would have to work for him longer. Then again, I couldn’t rely on Hazel’s hospitality forever.
“No.” Though the way he said it, it was clear that he was not happy with that decision. I had a feeling that was more of Hazel’s doing than his. “That being said, I will not be paying you much. You will be getting a fraction of what you would at a legitimate job. But, I can see the merit in you needing to have money. Enough to feed yourself.”
The fact that such a basic need had to be a discussion was mind-boggling to me. I didn’t know what to even say to that.
“What exactly is expected of me to pay off this bail? Am I at your beck and call for the next year?”
“Of course not. I told you a few days ago that you would need to report for work. You never showed.”
I glanced at him. “I didn’t know where to show or what time.”
Hands still clasped and his stature still stony, he tracked the way I pulled the metal from the water. “It is known within the Night Market that work starts at the first brightening of the lanterns.”
“That’s great,” I told him, dropping more coins in the bucket. “But I don’t remember anything, so why would I know that? Or do you still think I am lying?”
“I will admit, you not showing this morning does lend credence to your amnesia.”
I shook my head, muttering to myself. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I will require you to attend work once a week with me. We can discuss which days would be best. You will be on call at least two days a week. I may or may not need you during those days. Hours will always vary. Your contract will end after the duration of three consecutive moons.”
“Great,” I said.
The water began to trickle. Slowly at first but with more force as I pulled out bits of coin and crumpled gems.
With the amount of coin that was in the basin, it was going to take me most of the day to clean. With each handful of coin I pulled from the water, more took their place, trickling down from the upper tiers. I didn’t know where they even came from. Not wanting to spend that much time with the Warden, I sighed, looking around for a way to hurry this entire thing up.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” I called out to him. “I don’t need a chaperone to clean a fountain.”
“I wish to know that you are doing it right.”
“And what is right, exactly?”
“With your hands. Not some implement that will muddy up the water. I wish for you to feel the labors of this, Prisoner 47b. Bending over and working with your hands will be beneficial to your rehabilitation. Because it is through hard labor that we only learn.”
[[Continue to clean the fountain out with your hands]]
[[(flirt) You want to see me bend over and work with my hands]]
[[Get in the fountain and go straight for the drain]]“That is generous of you,” I said, somewhat surprised. I had been racking my brain for ways to repay Hazel. Already she was giving me free room and board and while she said she would receive a small stipend from the Velvet Guard, it didn’t sit right with me. I wanted to repay the kindness she showed me. Being able to at least pay for my own food would be a start.
“Yes, well, we do not wish for you to starve,” he said succinctly. I couldn’t tell if he was irritated by the notion or not.
“What exactly is expected of me to pay off this bail? Am I at your beck and call for the next year?”
“Of course not. I told you a few days ago that you would need to report for work. You never showed.”
I glanced at him. “I didn’t know where to show or what time.”
Hands still clasped and his stature still stony, he tracked the way I pulled the metal from the water. “It is known within the Night Market that work starts at the first brightening of the lanterns.”
“That’s great,” I told him, dropping more coins in the bucket. “But I don’t remember anything, so why would I know that? Or do you still think I am lying?”
“I will admit, you not showing this morning does lend credence to your amnesia.”
I shook my head, muttering to myself. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I will require you to attend work once a week with me. We can discuss which days would be best. You will be on call at least two days a week. I may or may not need you during those days. Hours will always vary. Your contract will end after the duration of three consecutive moons.”
“Great,” I said.
The water began to trickle. Slowly at first but with more force as I pulled out bits of coin and crumpled gems.
With the amount of coin that was in the basin, it was going to take me most of the day to clean. With each handful of coin I pulled from the water, more took their place, trickling down from the upper tiers. I didn’t know where they even came from. Not wanting to spend that much time with the Warden, I sighed, looking around for a way to hurry this entire thing up.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” I called out to him. “I don’t need a chaperone to clean a fountain.”
“I wish to know that you are doing it right.”
“And what is right, exactly?”
“With your hands. Not some implement that will muddy up the water. I wish for you to feel the labors of this, Prisoner 47b. Bending over and working with your hands will be beneficial to your rehabilitation. Because it is through hard labor that we only learn.”
[[Continue to clean the fountain out with your hands]]
[[(flirt) You want to see me bend over and work with my hands]]
[[Get in the fountain and go straight for the drain]]“Keep it,” I told him. “I don’t want your blood money.”
“It is not blood money. It is money for you to survive on so you do not take advantage of Ms. Albright’s hospitality.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Is that what she said?” Hazel didn’t strike me as an individual who would complain about helping someone. If she had her way, she would dedicate her life to doing unto others.
“No. It is what I said. She merely suggested that I could not simply make you work without any sort of compensation because it would not be good for rehabilitation.”
Grabbing the bucket, I went to the edge of the fountain, seeing the bits of floating metal at the bottom. I began scooping it from the concrete basin and dropping it into the bucket.
“Again, I want nothing from you. I want to get through this job and be done with it.”
“Then I will just send it to Ms. Albright and she can decide what will be done with the compensation.”
I ignored him. Caine was going to do whatever it was he was going to do. I doubted I would ever be able to get through to him. Or even care enough to try.
“What exactly is expected of me to pay off this bail? Am I at your beck and call for the next year?”
“Of course not. I told you a few days ago that you would need to report for work. You never showed.”
I glanced at him. “I didn’t know where to show or what time.”
Hands still clasped and his stature still stony, he tracked the way I pulled the metal from the water. “It is known within the Night Market that work starts at the first brightening of the lanterns.”
“That’s great,” I told him, dropping more coins in the bucket. “But I don’t remember anything, so why would I know that? Or do you still think I am lying?”
“I will admit, you not showing this morning does lend credence to your amnesia.”
I shook my head, muttering to myself. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I will require you to attend work once a week with me. We can discuss which days would be best. You will be on call at least two days a week. I may or may not need you during those days. Hours will always vary. Your contract will end after the duration of three consecutive moons.”
“Great,” I said.
The water began to trickle. Slowly at first but with more force as I pulled out bits of coin and crumpled gems.
With the amount of coin that was in the basin, it was going to take me most of the day to clean. With each handful of coin I pulled from the water, more took their place, trickling down from the upper tiers. I didn’t know where they even came from. Not wanting to spend that much time with the Warden, I sighed, looking around for a way to hurry this entire thing up.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” I called out to him. “I don’t need a chaperone to clean a fountain.”
“I wish to know that you are doing it right.”
“And what is right, exactly?”
“With your hands. Not some implement that will muddy up the water. I wish for you to feel the labors of this, Prisoner 47b. Bending over and working with your hands will be beneficial to your rehabilitation. Because it is through hard labor that we only learn.”
[[Continue to clean the fountain out with your hands]]
[[(flirt) You want to see me bend over and work with my hands]]
[[Get in the fountain and go straight for the drain]]
<<set $bloodmoney to "true">>Reaching into the water, I grabbed another handful of coin. With the amount that was in here, I wondered just how many children ran through this juncture. So far, no one had passed us but it was of course so early in the morning that the birds weren’t even singing. Though, now that I thought about it, I hadn’t really heard the bird song in the market at all.
Resigning myself to the task, I began scooping out the coin, listening to the wet plunk as I began filling the bucket. I truly hoped that he didn’t expect me to carry this across the market for him.
“What do you do with all these coins?” I asked.
“They go into the guards' treasury.”
“But they aren’t yours.”
“Technically,” he said. “They are not anyone's.”
They were thrown here by children to collect wishes for their dreams and yet the Velvet Guard was collecting them to fund their operation. “The Guard that underfunded?”
“We are funded just fine. Now. I prefer we work in silence.”
“I’m working. You are not.”
He ignored me, staring off down the various alleys, as if he were patrolling them with his eyes.
When I was done, my shirt was mostly soaked through and my hands felt numb from the chill of the water.
“Can you walk yourself home?” The Warden asked, looking anxious to go. I wondered if the man had ever stayed still for so long.
“Yup.”
I didn’t wait for him. Nor did I offer to haul the bucket back to the prison. Instead, I flicked the water from my hands and wrung out my dirty tunic. I didn’t look back as I left his side and I doubted he cared enough to watch me go.
[[Next|Chapter Three]]“Bending over, huh? Is that what this really is about?”
“Yes. Exertion does an individual good. The free flow of blood I find makes an individual far more amenable to following orders presented to them.”
I stared at him. The context had gone over his head. It was then that I realized that this man was far more literal than I had thought previously. I would have to keep that in mind.
Resigning myself to the task, I began scooping out the coin, listening to the wet plunk as I began filling the bucket. I truly hoped that he didn’t expect me to carry this across the market for him.
“What do you do with all these coins?” I asked.
“They go into the guards' treasury.”
“But they aren’t yours.”
“Technically,” he said. “They are not anyone's.”
They were thrown here by children to collect wishes for their dreams and yet the Velvet Guard was collecting them to fund their operation. “The Guard that underfunded?”
“We are funded just fine. Now. I prefer we work in silence.”
“I’m working. You are not.”
He ignored me, staring off down the various alleys, as if he were patrolling them with his eyes.
When I was done, my shirt was mostly soaked through and my hands felt numb from the chill of the water.
“Can you walk yourself home?” The Warden asked, looking anxious to go. I wondered if the man had ever stayed still for so long.
“Yup.”
I didn’t wait for him. Nor did I offer to haul the bucket back to the prison. Instead, I flicked the water from my hands and wrung out my dirty tunic. I didn’t look back as I left his side and I doubted he cared enough to watch me go.
[[Next|Chapter Three]]No implements to clean up the water. Because he didn’t want it to get dirty. There was a process to things for Gabriel Caine. A certain way of doing a task. Fine. Good.
So I was definitely going to climb right in.
Looking him right in the eye, I climbed up over the edge of the basin, sticking my still sand covered shoes inside and beginning to kick around the bits of copper and brass that were down at the bottom.
He looked at me. “Cute,” he muttered.
Inside, I was able to scoop up the coins far better and plop them in the bucket. It was uncouth and outside of protocol and it made me feel so much better than if I had just listened to him.
“Are you going to be a problem, $name?”
“I think you have already made up your mind about that,” I told him.
He was silent while I continued to clean. When I was done, I was dripping wet, the water was murky, and Gabriel looked irritated. I climbed out of the fountain, a wet shadow forming around me.
“Can you walk yourself home?” he asked, voice tight.
“Yup.”
I didn’t wait for him. My shoes squelched as I walked down the alleyway back to Hazel’s. I was cold. Wet. I kind of smelled. But the irritation on his face had been worth it. For today, that was enough.
[[Next|Chapter Three]]Stepping forward, I tipped my head towards him, feeling the anger cry through me. I could hear the faint pop of the lanterns somewhere within the alleys that led here. Bursting with sporadic sparks before reforming.
“I don’t believe you are a bad person,” I told him quietly. It caught him off guard. He blinked at me in surprise, catching himself too late to put the mask back on effectively. But I saw it. The soft glimmer that said he wanted to believe me. He so desperately wanted to believe me. “I believe there is something else going on, and your hands are tied.” Taking another step forward, I held my hands out in surrender, trying to show him that I was not his enemy. “Let me help you,” I said. “Come back to Hazel’s with me. Let me–”
“Oh, Milo.” The familiar sound of bells jangled across the courtyard, echoing across the gemstone expanse that surrounded us and bouncing back to us in a cacophony of noise that drowned out the ball within. Taliesin stepped from the other side of the fountain, running his fingers through the sparkling water, looking up at the mermaid fondly. He stopped a few feet from us, a pout on his lips. “Time is ticking, Milo.”
Stepping in front of me, Milo moved me back behind him, one arm coming up to block me from Taliesin’s view. I could see the goblin over his shoulder. His glass grin growing wider and wider.
“Oh, are we changing our mind?” Taliesin cooed. “Tsk tsk. You can’t do that.”
“I’ll take care of it, Taliesin,” Milo said, his voice even. I could see his hand though as it pressed me firmly out of the way. It held a slight tremor. “You can go.”
“No, see, I don’t think I can. I’ve got too much wrapped up in this moment, Milo, dear boy. I want to make sure you do what you’re supposed to.”
“I’ll fucking do it, Taliesin. You can take your jangly ass and leave. Our partnership ends here.”
Taliesin laughed loudly, his hand coming out of his pocket, holding up something that I couldn’t quite see. It was small but I could feel Milo’s shoulders tense at the sight of it. When I looked over Milo’s shoulder though, I saw it. It was the picture Malcolm had drawn of me. Taken right from the apothecary. Right from the one place we all considered safe.
Taliesin didn’t move. He looked frozen in time, Malcolm’s charcoal drawing tight in his grip, catching in the light of the peeling moon above.
Turning, Milo looked at me. <<if $miloro == "true">>He stepped close, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.<<elseif $miloro == "false">>He stepped close, one hand curling against my shoulder.<</if>> I couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was a mixture of panic and determination, but there was something else there. The truth. The truth was tumbling against him in a desperate plea to just tell me. I didn’t know what I had said to bring it there or if it was the threat of Taliesin being able to get to Hazel so easily. But, something had shifted. Something had frightened him. If I could just…
I took in a sharp gasp of breath, my eyes going wide as a bright light swelled between us.
Looking down, I saw Milo’s hand on my chest. When he pulled away, I saw a key.
I looked up at him with shock, hands coming up to clutch at my chest but feeling nothing. Inside, I heard the screams of the party goers. The windows cracking outwards as a roar blasted through the cold night air.
“No, eyes on me,” Milo gently turned my chin so I looked at him. “It’ll be over in a moment,” He told me. "It’ll be okay. This will save you.” <<if $miloro == "true">>Tears filled his eyes as he let his features crumple. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he whispered. “I wanted to explain it. Give you time. I– I don’t know where I went wrong.<</if>>
My mouth opened but nothing came out, my voice suddenly sucked from my lungs, bleeding back into the market in a distant song. When my knees began to shake, Milo grabbed a hold of me, keeping me upright.
“This is what I needed to do,” he said urgently. “I needed to take a part of the market and sacrifice it to close the gates. You’ll still exist. You will still live,” he whispered. “Just not in this form.”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. Tears of pain and betrayal, every scream, every protest and every fear of death rolling through me, suffocating me as the light swelled from my throat.
“This will save you,” Milo said. I no longer knew if he was convincing me or himself. <<if $miloro == "true">> “I will save you…”<</if>>
“Actually,” Taliesin came into view over Milo’s shoulder. “I’m going to have to take this one, Milo, dear. See, I could have probably done this on my own but I really just wanted to see how this would play out with you. Should have known you’d try to let them go gentle into this dear night.”
A blade was pulled from Milo’s boot before I hit the ground. He let me go, pulling the hidden dagger before turning on his heel and burying it deep within Taliesin’s shoulder. The goblin sucked in a deep breath of pain, laughing in shock as Milo twisted the knife. I could see it in Milo’s eyes. The intent to kill the man. The bloodlust that took over him. Blood splashed against his cheeks, mingling with his freckles. With surprising strength, Taliesin shoved him free, taking the knife with him. Stumbling over to me, the goblin straddled my hips, looming over me.
My chest felt wide open, split in two as light rose with each ragged breath, blurring the world around me. “Thank you,” Taliesin whispered. “You are exactly what I needed.” I arched in pain as the Baron tipped into my chest. Pushing his way inside of me and pulling my ribs apart as inchy by inch he disapeared. A burst of light illuminated the sky as my body began to fade into nothing. From the balcony above I could hear my name being cried out. I thought it was Gabriel. Maybe it was Belladonna. I could hear Hazel weeping softly somewhere.
And then there was Milo, dragging himself forward.
I stared up into the burnt orbs of his amber eyes, feeling myself fading from the night, slipping through his hands.
“Fuck,” Milo hissed. “Fuck! Why isn’t this working. Why are you… $name. Let go. Fight him. Don’t let him….”
<<if $miloro == "true">>I opened my mouth to ask him just what he meant but forgot the words the second I did. The world felt cold and warm all at once and I could feel the wetness on my cheeks. Not from my own tears, but from the man above me. “No,” he whispered. “No, this wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t. //Fuck//! $name, please, hold on, okay? I’ll fix this. I lo…”<</if>>
Milo’s words became garbled as my eyes rolled up towards the night sky. The paper moon was peeling, bits of it falling like snow. It blinded my vision, blotting out the stars above. The warm blanket that used to cover me as I was tucked in at night.
And all across the market, the lanterns went dark.
[[End|NM TU]]“No,” I said softly. “I don’t think I am.” He shifted uncomfortably, my words forcing light upon what we had just done. My beginning was here. Right over the dunes. I had been scared and alone and Caliban had been the first person that had even attempted to calm me while I was huddled in that cell. Not Gabriel. Not Milo or Belladonna or Hazel. But Caliban. And today, I entertained the thought of sending him back to the person he feared most, all because I wanted to do good. Morality was such a slippery slope that was far too easy to bend to your own gains.
Turning to Gabriel, I shook my head. “Things have to change,” I told him. “The market cannot continue this way.”
“What do you mean?”
<<if $pits == "false">>Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You locked me in a cage upon arriving here. Because you thought I had caused some sort of infraction, you put me in a cell. Not the one inside the prison itself. Not the one where I would have the chance to explain myself, or express my need for help. But you walked me down to that beach and you were willing to sell me to the highest bidder. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but what you did was unnecessary and cruel.” <<elseif $pit == "true">> Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You were ready to sell me for parts, for //parts//, Gabriel, because I would not comply with the arbitrary rules of a world I didn’t even know. I was dropped into this world and instead of giving me a chance to explain, you escorted me down towards a body pit. My wrists,” I said, holding up the stained cuffs. “My wrists are stained gray because of you. Because you wanted to control me. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.”<</if>>
His jaw tightened. “$name, it is simply how things are done. There are just so many cultures within the Night Market that…”
“No,” I said. “That is not allowed to be the excuse for the guards behavior. The people here should be considered but not to this extent. They chose to come here and they are choosing to stay. And now, there needs to be a stand that is taken. And that stand absolutely cannot be one of murky waters where you deem it okay to punish people to such extremes because they did something that whoever was on duty that evening, thought might be wrong. <<if $pits == "false">>For crying out loud, Gabriel, you have a pit on that beach. A pit where you toss bodies and allow others to come buy them, use them as slaves or simply chop them up and sell them for parts. How is that okay to you?” <<elseif $pits == "true">> There is nothing, //nothing//, that someone can do, to make shoving them in a body pit justifiable.<</if>>
“It’s how it's always been,” he said firmly. “I did not make the rules but I am the one who will abide by them and see them followed through."
“You are the Warden of this market. There are no other higher authorities other than the Barons who are all enmeshed in their own selfish gains. You make the rules now and you have every right to change them. Why are you continuing to follow some outdated mandate that is //harming// individuals. You are helping no one like this."
Anger flit across his face as I challenged him. I wanted to believe Gabriel to be better than this. But maybe I was wrong.
“Last week I sat at a dinner table with you where a woman was nearly murdered for spilling water upon your sleeve," I continued. "I watched as people wandered that estate for Elias’s entertainment, cut up, broken, bruised, all in the name of perfection and they couldn’t say or do anything because this world has beaten them down so much that they actually thought that that shit show was the only way out. The self proclaimed protector of the Night Market should not just sit by and watch that happen."
I could see the way his mind rebelled against what I was saying. When it came to Elias, he looked as if he put up his blinders, just as he did to many other situations in the market.
"Would you like to make a point?" Gabriel asked. "Or are you going to continue to berate a job you know nothing about?"
“Tonight we had to make a decision,” I said. “Let Caliban go and risk everything, or decide that hurting someone else was entirely okay when done in the name of others. The reason I chose to let him go, Gabriel, is not only because it would be wrong not to. But because I refuse to keep moving my line. I will not do it anymore. Not for you and not for the sake of the market. Because if that’s what the people in this market stand for, then maybe this world should perish.”
His eyes turned sharply to me. “You do not mean that.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “But, I also don’t wish to live in a world where we consider this kind of behavior as okay.”
He stepped back at that. To challenge the Warden often meant death. But I was telling him that I would gladly accept it if this was the world we had to walk. It didn't sit well with him. That alone gave me a small kernal of hope that something might change.
[[I'm going to head back to Hazel's]]
[[Come with me to Hazel's]]
[[I think you should be with a friend tonight (send him to Belladonna)]]“I’m being maudlin,” I told him, freely admitting to how caught in my own head I was at this moment. Not that I felt anyone could blame me.
As we stepped over a raised bit of the street, I turned to where I could hear the crashing waves. Just beyond the flickering eels and down the mouth of a winding cave, was where I had met Caliban. Where he had peered at me with one eye and regaled me with a story until I felt my panic calm.
Turning to Gabriel, I shook my head. “Things have to change,” I told him. “The market cannot continue this way.”
“What do you mean?”
<<if $pits == "false">>Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You locked me in a cage upon arriving here. Because you thought I had caused some sort of infraction, you put me in a cell. Not the one inside the prison itself. Not the one where I would have the chance to explain myself, or express my need for help. But you walked me down to that beach and you were willing to sell me to the highest bidder. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but what you did was unnecessary and cruel.” <<elseif $pit == "true">> Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You were ready to sell me for parts, for //parts//, Gabriel, because I would not comply with the arbitrary rules of a world I didn’t even know. I was dropped into this world and instead of giving me a chance to explain, you escorted me down towards a body pit. My wrists,” I said, holding up the stained cuffs. “My wrists are stained gray because of you. Because you wanted to control me. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.”<</if>>
His jaw tightened. “$name, it is simply how things are done. There are just so many cultures within the Night Market that…”
“No,” I said. “That is not allowed to be the excuse for the guards behavior. The people here should be considered but not to this extent. They chose to come here and they are choosing to stay. And now, there needs to be a stand that is taken. And that stand absolutely cannot be one of murky waters where you deem it okay to punish people to such extremes because they did something that whoever was on duty that evening, thought might be wrong. <<if $pits == "false">>For crying out loud, Gabriel, you have a pit on that beach. A pit where you toss bodies and allow others to come buy them, use them as slaves or simply chop them up and sell them for parts. How is that okay to you?” <<elseif $pits == "true">> There is nothing, //nothing//, that someone can do, to make shoving them in a body pit justifiable.<</if>>
“It’s how it's always been,” he said firmly. “I did not make the rules but I am the one who will abide by them and see them followed through."
“You are the Warden of this market. There are no other higher authorities other than the Barons who are all enmeshed in their own selfish gains. You make the rules now and you have every right to change them. Why are you continuing to follow some outdated mandate that is //harming// individuals. You are helping no one like this."
Anger flit across his face as I challenged him. I wanted to believe Gabriel to be better than this. But maybe I was wrong.
“Last week I sat at a dinner table with you where a woman was nearly murdered for spilling water upon your sleeve," I continued. "I watched as people wandered that estate for Elias’s entertainment, cut up, broken, bruised, all in the name of perfection and they couldn’t say or do anything because this world has beaten them down so much that they actually thought that that shit show was the only way out. The self proclaimed protector of the Night Market should not just sit by and watch that happen."
I could see the way his mind rebelled against what I was saying. When it came to Elias, he looked as if he put up his blinders, just as he did to many other situations in the market.
"Would you like to make a point?" Gabriel asked. "Or are you going to continue to berate a job you know nothing about?"
“Tonight we had to make a decision,” I said. “Let Caliban go and risk everything, or decide that hurting someone else was entirely okay when done in the name of others. The reason I chose to let him go, Gabriel, is not only because it would be wrong not to. But because I refuse to keep moving my line. I will not do it anymore. Not for you and not for the sake of the market. Because if that’s what the people in this market stand for, then maybe this world should perish.”
His eyes turned sharply to me. “You do not mean that.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “But, I also don’t wish to live in a world where we consider this kind of behavior as okay.”
He stepped back at that. To challenge the Warden often meant death. But I was telling him that I would gladly accept it if this was the world we had to walk. It didn't sit well with him. That alone gave me a small kernal of hope that something might change.
[[I'm going to head back to Hazel's]]
[[Come with me to Hazel's]]
[[I think you should be with a friend tonight (send him to Belladonna)]]“I will be.” The smile I gave him was weak as we continued on, our hands clasped within each others. I thought of the Book Barons. The way they had clung to each other in the face of a challenge. Offering each other strength as they continued through the world.
As we stepped over a raised bit of street, I stared out at the pitch of night. I couldn’t see the ocean but I could hear the waves. Beyond that was the cell. The very place I had started this journey in where Caliban had peeked through a crack in the wall and regaled me with a tale so wild that it couldn’t possibly be true. It left a sad smile on my lips as I wondered if I would ever see him again. If this market would ever truly be safe for him to come back to.
Turning to Gabriel, I shook my head. “Things have to change,” I told him. “The market cannot continue this way.”
“What do you mean?”
<<if $pits == "false">>Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You locked me in a cage upon arriving here. Because you thought I had caused some sort of infraction, you put me in a cell. Not the one inside the prison itself. Not the one where I would have the chance to explain myself, or express my need for help. But you walked me down to that beach and you were willing to sell me to the highest bidder. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but what you did was unnecessary and cruel.” <<elseif $pit == "true">> Without looking, I pointed to the beach. The access I knew laid between the buildings and brightly lit taverns. “You were ready to sell me for parts, for //parts//, Gabriel, because I would not comply with the arbitrary rules of a world I didn’t even know. I was dropped into this world and instead of giving me a chance to explain, you escorted me down towards a body pit. My wrists,” I said, holding up the stained cuffs. “My wrists are stained gray because of you. Because you wanted to control me. Every last detail of that situation was wrong. It was unnecessarily cruel. You can try to spin it any way you want, but that was wrong and you know it.”<</if>>
His jaw tightened. “$name, it is simply how things are done. There are just so many cultures within the Night Market that…”
“No,” I said. “That is not allowed to be the excuse for the guards behavior. The people here should be considered but not to this extent. They chose to come here and they are choosing to stay. And now, there needs to be a stand that is taken. And that stand absolutely cannot be one of murky waters where you deem it okay to punish people to such extremes because they did something that whoever was on duty that evening, thought might be wrong. <<if $pits == "false">>For crying out loud, Gabriel, you have a pit on that beach. A pit where you toss bodies and allow others to come buy them, use them as slaves or simply chop them up and sell them for parts. How is that okay to you?” <<elseif $pits == "true">> There is nothing, //nothing//, that someone can do, to make shoving them in a body pit justifiable.<</if>>
“It’s how it's always been,” he said firmly. “I did not make the rules but I am the one who will abide by them and see them followed through."
“You are the Warden of this market. There are no other higher authorities other than the Barons who are all enmeshed in their own selfish gains. You make the rules now and you have every right to change them. Why are you continuing to follow some outdated mandate that is //harming// individuals. You are helping no one like this."
Anger flit across his face as I challenged him. I wanted to believe Gabriel to be better than this. But maybe I was wrong.
“Last week I sat at a dinner table with you where a woman was nearly murdered for spilling water upon your sleeve," I continued. "I watched as people wandered that estate for Elias’s entertainment, cut up, broken, bruised, all in the name of perfection and they couldn’t say or do anything because this world has beaten them down so much that they actually thought that that shit show was the only way out. The self proclaimed protector of the Night Market should not just sit by and watch that happen."
I could see the way his mind rebelled against what I was saying. When it came to Elias, he looked as if he put up his blinders, just as he did to many other situations in the market.
"Would you like to make a point?" Gabriel asked. "Or are you going to continue to berate a job you know nothing about?"
“Tonight we had to make a decision,” I said. “Let Caliban go and risk everything, or decide that hurting someone else was entirely okay when done in the name of others. The reason I chose to let him go, Gabriel, is not only because it would be wrong not to. But because I refuse to keep moving my line. I will not do it anymore. Not for you and not for the sake of the market. Because if that’s what the people in this market stand for, then maybe this world should perish.”
His eyes turned sharply to me. “You do not mean that.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “But, I also don’t wish to live in a world where we consider this kind of behavior as okay.”
He stepped back at that. To challenge the Warden often meant death. But I was telling him that I would gladly accept it if this was the world we had to walk. It didn't sit well with him. That alone gave me a small kernal of hope that something might change.
[[I'm going to head back to Hazel's]]
[[Come with me to Hazel's]]
[[I think you should be with a friend tonight (send him to Belladonna)]]The night was darker somehow. The light of the lanterns dim, their heat distant from the streets. The stars were further away than they had seemed before, and the wind did not carry the music from the local taverns. The market was in mourning.
“I’m going to head back to Hazel’s,” I told him. “It’s been a long day and I think we need a bit of a break.”
Gabriel nodded his head, taking a step back from me. I could see his walls beginning to rise. Armor against the world I had painted for him.
“Think about what I’ve said, Gabriel. I think you really need to sit and consider how you are running the market. And if that’s really the legacy you want to leave in your wake.”
I turned before he could say anything or before the one-sided argument could continue. I simply hoped that he listened. That the change that was so desperately needed would begin here and now. Otherwise, I didn’t know what kind of world we would be facing.
Turning, I walked away from the start of my journey and headlong into my future. I had an odd sensation that despite a certain raven who was now gone from our sights, that he would never truly be gone from the market. Not forever.
I wanted to make sure he had a home he was happy to come back to.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Hazel Odin False]]<<elseif $hazelro == "false">>[[Next|Hazel Odin platonic]]<</if>>The night was darker somehow. The light of the lanterns dim, their heat distant from the streets. The stars were further away than they had seemed before, and the wind did not carry the music from the local taverns. The market was in mourning.
“Do you want to come back to Hazel’s with me?” I asked. Being alone after a night like tonight was not a moment I wished on anyone. At least with the light of Hazel’s fire and the warmth of the apothecary, the world may not feel as harsh as it did now.
“No, that will not be necessary,” he said.
“Gabriel,” I intoned, “just come back with me. For an hour. Take the night off after all this.”
He looked like he was going to reject the notion. A dismissal was on his lips, but something in my eyes stopped him.
“For an hour,” he said with a slump of his shoulders. “If only to make sure that you and Ms. Albright are alright for the evening.”
It was an excuse but I didn’t call him on it. If it was what he needed to get through this, then I would go along with it. At least for tonight.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Hazel Odin False]]<<elseif $hazelro == "false">>[[Next|Hazel Odin platonic]]<</if>>
<<set $gabetohazel to "true">>The night was darker somehow. The light of the lanterns dim, their heat distant from the streets. The stars were further away than they had seemed before, and the wind did not carry the music from the local taverns. The market was in mourning.
“You should be with a friend tonight,” I told him. “Don’t go home alone after all this.”
“I was going to go back to my office,” he said. “There is a certain amount of paperwork that I need to get done.”
I sighed. Of course he would default to work. Because that was what Gabriel always defaulted to. “Or, you could go see Belladonna,” I suggested.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because at some point, you two were friends,” I tried. “I don’t know all of what happened to you two but after tonight? Maybe it’s time to put all this to rest.”
He seemed to consider my words for a moment. Between this and Elias, Gabriel needed someone. Belladonna was uniquely qualified to handle Gabriel’s stoicism. I only hoped it would bring him some comfort.
“Goodnight, $name,” he said with a clear dismissal.
“Goodnight, Gabriel.”
As I turned and walked away, heading towards the alley that would take me to Hazel’s, I looked back. The shadowed form of Gabriel was slipping off towards another alley. Not towards the office. I smiled. Maybe there would be something good from this night. And despit it all, I had an odd sensation that a certain raven who was now gone from our sights, would never truly be gone from the market. Not forever.
I wanted to make sure he had a home he was happy to come back to.
<<if $hazelro == "true">>[[Next|Hazel Odin False]]<<elseif $hazelro == "false">>[[Next|Hazel Odin platonic]]<</if>>Walking back into the apothecary, I felt the heat of the fire first, and saw Hazel second. She was standing near the table in back, near the patchwork sofas. Either she heard me come through the gate or Mr. Billows had warned her. I long ago suspected that Billows and her had a secret language that I was not privy to. The cat and her seemed to know things that others did not.
<<if $gabrieltohazel == "true">>She went to rush towards me but stopped short as she saw Gabriel come in behind me. Having the Warden here at this time of night was never a good sign.
"I thought Gabriel could spend the evening with us," I explained.
She blinked in surprise but rolled with the adjustment. "That would be wonderful. I was just about to get more wood for the fire."
Gabriel nodded resolutely. "Allow me. Is it out back?"
"Just in the woodshed," she explained.
Unbuckling his sword, Gabriel leaned it against the wall and set off back out of the apothecary and to the back of the property. If Hazel was distrubed by this change of events, or concerned, she didn't let it show. Instead, she turned her attention fully to me.<</if>>
“How’d it go?” She stood, the light from the fire glowing softly around her. One look at me and she must have known it hadn’t gone well because she was across the room, pulling me in her arms before I could even breath. "Oh, $name," she sighed.
I slumped against her, allowing her to lead me towards the fire. A small pot of tea was steaming on the table, along with fresh baked biscuits.
“What happened?” she asked.
I shook my head, feeling the pain behind my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I told her. “Not right this second.”
She didn't push. I didn't realize how much I needed someone like Hazel until these moments. When she offered comfort freely, wanting to take care of me because I was her friend. Everyone needed a Hazel in their life.
Everyone should have had a Caliban in their life.
“Let's get something warm in your stomach," she was saying.
We sat, nibbling on biscuits and drinking tea. I felt the warmth in my belly and the shakiness of my hands subside. Next to me, Hazel looked at me worriedly.
”I let him go,” I told her after a minute, when I felt more myself and less like the Baron of the Iron district had a grip on me. “I don’t know what that’s going to mean for the market but I just couldn’t send him back to the Baron."
"Of course you couldn't," she said. "He's your friend."
"He was so scared." Did friends do that to each other? Evoke that much fear?
Pouring me tea, Hazel shook her head. “It’s okay,” she said. “You did the right thing.”
Exhaustion washed over me. “I wish today had never happened,” I confessed. I knew that there was going to be ups and downs in what we were doing. I knew that what I had gone through so far was relatively calm compared to what could have taken place. But still… More often than not with these Baron meetings, they were leaving me incapacitated at night. Slumped over somewhere, wondering how I was supposed to greet the next day.
[[I feel like the world is resting completely on me and I’m scared]]
[[I feel like I can’t make any right decisions]]
[[What do we even do next?]]
I stared after the man. All this because I didn't tell him my name. A name I literally didn't even know. As I stood there, feeling the cage around my lungs loosen, I couldn't help but wonder how many people had been put to death for such a simple thing. I didn't know who I was. Where I was. And I was being punished for it.
Looking down at my body, I tried my hardest to call forth whatever person I had been before falling into that alley and being drug to the prison. I stared at my hands, the way my fingers flexed as I moved them. Looking down at my body, I tried to take stock of me and me alone. Because while I had not wanted to answer the Warden, I still wanted to know who I was.
[[I identify as Male|Gabe end][$pgen to "0"]]
[[I identify as Female|Gabe end][$pgen to "1"]]
[[I identify as Non binary|Gabe end][$pgen to "2"]]